I put in a call to Noakes, but got rerouted to ID Hsieh, A. It was picked up immediately.
Who is this? I asked.
Agent Alice Hsieh, she said. I’ll be filling Agent Pu’s position. Can I help you, Agent Wachalowski?
Yes. I need the alarm system deactivated at this address.
She didn’t answer, but a few seconds later, I saw the display on the alarm system go dark.
Okay, you’re clear, she said.
I put my badge to the scanner, and it overrode the security code. I pushed open the door and went inside.
The main entry opened into a small waiting area. Wooden chairs were arranged there, facing a wall with a sliding window and next to that, a door. Old magazines with curled edges were stacked on a wall-mounted shelf.
I pulled up a blueprint of the facility. The sliding window opened into a small office or reception area, and the door next to it led to a hallway that gave access to it, along with three small examination rooms. The hallway formed an L and led to a restroom, two large storage rooms, then continued to a fire exit that opened into the back alley.
The door was unlocked. I went through, then took a left into the office behind the sliding window. A desk faced out into the waiting area. I turned on the computer and set up a ’bot to break through security.
I gave the desk drawer a tug, but it was locked. Touching the phone’s screen, I pulled up the address book and recorded the contacts there. One name jumped out at me.
BUCKSTER, LEON.
I knew that name. Calliope had mentioned him. He was her Second Chance contact. There was no other information except his contact number and work address.
Alice, pull the phone records, please. I need all calls placed to and from this location, starting at the date of the Concrete Falls attack.
She was fast. After a short pause, the data began streaming in. I filtered out anyone on the patient list or the employee directory. Only a handful of the numbers were unaccounted for. One in particular was tied to an organization called CCO: Charitable Contribution Organization. The number was leased under its name, maybe to hide the owner’s identity. I saved it aside.
The ’bot continued to work on opening a connection to the computer, but something was blocking it. The security there was a lot tougher than it should have been.
Something’s not right.
I backed out of the office and continued down the hallway. The examination rooms were open, and they were all empty. I continued on to the storage rooms. At the bend in the hall, I saw the storage room door in front of me. Down at the end of the corridor to my right was the metal fire door.
Nico. This is Sean. I’m here. Help me. I switched off the connection, cutting off the message.
The storage room was crowded with stacks of cardboard boxes containing medical equipment. To my right, a wooden door led to a closet. Inside there were shelves of sample drugs, along with a locked metal cabinet that covered the far wall. Peering through the side, I saw what looked like pill bottles and other pharmaceuticals.
Sweeping the main storage area with the backscatter, I noticed a metal door behind one of the stacks of boxes. There was a scanner mounted next to it.
Closing the door to the storage closet, I approached the metal door and pushed the boxes aside. Unlike the rest of the place, the door looked modern and new. The scanner next to it was fitted with a lens for performing retinal scans. A retinal scan wasn’t even required to get into the FBI building.
Putting my forehead to the surface of the door, I turned the backscatter up to full intensity. The metal was thick, but I could make out images on the other side. The edges of the room were lined with what looked like computer equipment. The middle of the room was dominated by what I guessed was a large reclining chair, like you might see at a dentist’s office. Several IV racks stood next to it.
Scanning along the edges of the door, I could see it was secured with magnetic bolts. I was trying to decide the best way to tap into it when the red light shining above the mechanism’s lens flickered and turned green. The bolts retracted with a dull thump.
I stepped back into the shadows as the heavy door opened, revealing a dark room behind it. A revivor stepped through the doorway, and the faint smell of sweat and decomposition drifted out behind it. Inside, I saw several sets of glowing eyes.
Before it could spot me, I slipped toward the wall next to the doorway and took the EMP wand from my belt. The revivor was male, with a heavy frame. Its head turned as it scanned the dark in front of it, trying to pinpoint my heartbeat.
I touched the wand to the back of its neck and the metal filament slipped through the skin and up its spinal column. Its body went rigid, and I caught it under one arm as it fell back. Quietly, I eased it onto the floor.
Before it could send out an alarm, I recorded its signature, then triggered the EMP. The light faded from its eyes. Using an old war trick, I looped the recorded signature through a custom transponder I’d installed back in Bontang. Revivors didn’t rely on signatures for identification purposes, and they would still detect my heartbeat, but it would keep them from attacking as long as I didn’t attack first.
I stepped through the doorway and looked around. Three revivors stood inside, each with their backs to one wall. Their eyes shifted ceaselessly, moving rapidly, almost like they were dreaming. They didn’t seem to see me or hear me as I moved into the room.
The light was low enough that even with the enhancements, it was hard to pick out details inside. I shined a flashlight beam, and swept it across the room. Shelving had been set up, stocked with towels. I saw several rolling trays that held surgical instruments, and empty vials for taking blood samples.
There was a faint thermal trace on the chair. There was no other indication that anyone else—anyone living, at any rate—had been inside.
A tent of plastic sheeting hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. I could see dark shapes inside, and a series of flashing red lights. There was a gap in the curtain near the middle, and I pushed through.
On the other side of the curtain were five gurneys, and each one had a nude male corpse on it. From behind each of their heads, a thick wire trailed across the floor. I followed them behind a bank of electronics where the red lights flashed. The skin on each body was rigid. Dark veins were visible underneath the surface from head to toe.
Revivors. A scan didn’t produce a signature from any of them. They were dormant.
Back in the office, the ’bot broke through security and a connection opened to the main computer system. I accessed the link and began scanning the files. Most of them were innocuous—medical records of patients coming and going, payroll, ordering and inventory—but one section was isolated from the rest. A list of names and dates had been recorded there. The last four were displayed:
Subject: Harris, Erica. Female. 42. 23042091.Subject: Janai, Ryu. Male. 30. 10052091.Subject: Uris, Henry. Male. 32. 13052091.Subject: Takanawa, Hiro. Male. 28. 14052091.Subject: Pu, Sean. Male. 41. 15052091. Sean.
The connection to the computer broke, and the stream of data stopped. When I tried to reconnect, I found it was completely offline. The power to the system had been cut.
“Gathering for iteration six-three-two,” a metallic voice said softly from behind me. I turned suddenly, aiming the gun, and saw that the bank of red lights on the electronic equipment had turned amber. As I watched, they began to flicker and turn green.
A loud snap issued from the back of the room, loud enough to make me jump. One of the bodies moved on its gurney, then another. The toes arched back slightly, and I saw the fingers flex. Information began streaming by on one of the screens.