Where the hell did they keep them?
He tried to think where they were usually kept at the doctor's surgery. In little drawers. He could picture it. Shiny white cabinets with lots of little drawers.
There was a rumble beneath him. Groaning noises rose through the ship. The steel was buckling.
Anawak hurried into the compartment across the way. Much of the equipment had been smashed, but the room contained several white cabinets, which seemed to have been bolted into place. He opened them, searched inside and finally found what he was looking for. He grabbed a dozen syringes in sterile packaging and shoved them into his jacket.
Their plan was crazy.
Either Karen was right, and it was a stroke of genius, or they had no idea of the reality of the situation. On the one hand it seemed plausible, but on the other impracticable and naive, especially compared to the sophisticated messages that Crowe had been sending into the depths…
Where was Crowe?
There was a deafening clanging noise as though a bell had exploded. The deck tilted further. He could hear a muffled sloshing.
Anawak wondered whether he had time to get out. Then he stopped wondering and started running.
Lab
Weaver didn't know what lay ahead. Just the thought of opening the door to the laboratory made her stomach churn. But if they were to go through with the plan, it was their only hope.
The floor shook. From under the deck they heard gurgling. Johanson leaned against her, breathing heavily. 'Well, go on, then,' he said.
The red light was flashing above the keypad. The lab was sealed. Weaver tapped in the code and the door slid open. Water rushed towards them, swirling round their feet, but instead of flowing down the ramp, it collected round their ankles. The level rose. In a flash Weaver saw why: the ship was tilting at such an angle that it couldn't run down to the well deck. This section of the ramp wasn't a ramp any more: it was level.
She took a step back. 'Careful,' she said. 'The jelly might have got out.'
Johanson looked inside. Two lifeless bodies floated next to the wreckage of the chamber. He waded into the streaming water, and advanced through the door. Weaver followed. Her eyes shot over to the two large containers that made up the biohazard lab. They appeared intact, and she felt a wave of relief. This wasn't the time to be poisoned by Pfiesteria.
Aft, the deck sloped out of the water, most of which had formed a deep pool at the opposite end of the lab. 'They're all dead,' she whispered.
Johanson squinted over the water. Look!'
There was a third body – Rubin's.
Weaver fought back revulsion and fear. 'We're going to have to take one,' she said. 'It doesn't matter which.'
'That means wading in deeper.'
'It can't be helped.' She set off.
'Karen, watch out!'
She tried to turn, but something collided with her from behind and her feet skidded out from under her. Yelping, she landed in the water, and rose, spluttering, to the surface. She struggled on to her back.
A soldier was standing in front of her, training an enormous black weapon on them both.
'Oh, no,' he said slowly. 'Ooooh, no.'
In his eyes she could see panic and incipient madness. She got up slowly and raised her hands, showing her palms.
'Oh, no,' he repeated.
He was very young, no more than nineteen, and the weapon trembled in his hands. He took a step back and glanced from Weaver to Johanson, then back again.
'It's OK,' said Johanson. 'We're trying to help you.'
'You locked us in,' said the soldier. His voice sounded whiny, as though he were about to scream.
'That wasn't us,' said Weaver.
'You locked us in with that – that – you left us alone with it.'
This was all they needed – the Independence was sinking, they were racing against time to stop Li, they still had to get hold of a corpse and now they had to deal with a hysterical boy.
'What's your name?' Johanson asked abruptly.
'What?' The soldier's gaze wobbled. Then he raised his gun and pointed it at Johanson.
'No!' screamed Weaver.
Johanson looked into the barrel of the gun and spoke softly: 'Could you tell us your name, please?'
The soldier hesitated.
'We need to know your name,' said Johanson, in the tone of a friendly parish priest.
'MacMillan. I'm… My name is MacMillan.'
Weaver realised what Johanson was up to. The best way to bring someone back to normality was to remind them of who they were.
'Thank you, MacMillan. Good. Now, listen, we need your help. This vessel is sinking. It's imperative that we go through with our last experiment. It could save us all.'
'All of us?'
'Do you have family, MacMillan?'
'Why do you need to know?'
'Tell me where they live, MacMillan.'
'Boston.' The boy's face crumpled. He started to cry. 'But Boston's-'
'I know,' Johanson said urgently. 'Listen, there's something we can do to stop all this. To stop everything – even in Boston. But we need your help. And we need it now. Your family's lives could be hanging in the balance with every second we waste.'
'Please help us,' said Weaver. 'Please.'
The soldier looked from one to the other. He snuffled and lowered his gun. 'Will you get us out of here?' he asked.
'Yes.' Weaver nodded. 'I promise.' What the hell are you talking about? she thought. You can't promise anything. Not a thing.
The secret laboratory seemed unscathed. The floor was covered with broken glass, but otherwise everything seemed to be in its rightful place. A few monitors flickered in the background.
'Now, where would he have put those cylinders?' Li wondered aloud.
She slid her gun back into its holster. The room was deserted. She'd expected to see a blue glow emanating from the miniature tank, but then she remembered that Rubin had tested the toxin – very success fully, as he'd assured her. She peered through one of the portholes. Nothing. No organism. No glow.
Peak wandered among the benches and cabinets. 'Over here,' he called.
Li hurried over. A stand had toppled over, leaving a collection of slim, torpedo-shaped cylinders in a heap, each just under a metre long. They picked them up one by one. Two were noticeably heavier than the others, and Li spotted the markings on their sides. Rubin had drawn on them in permanent ink. Look, Sal,' she said, mesmerised. 'I'm holding the new world order in my hands.'
'I see.' A test-tube rolled off the side of one of the benches and shattered with a tinkle. 'In that case let's get the new world order out of here.'
Li let out a peal of laughter. She passed a cylinder to Peak and walked out of the lab with the other. 'In five minutes' time I'm going to send the yrr into the underworld forever, you can depend on it.'
'Who're you going to take down with you? Is Mick still alive, do you think?'
'I don't give a shit about Mick.'
'I could come.'
'Well, that's incredibly generous of you, Sal, but exactly how were you planning to help? The last thing I need is you bawling your eyes out because you can't stand the thought of me killing a lump of blue slime.'
'That's different and you know it. There's a hell of a difference between-'
They were almost at the companionway. Someone was approaching from the opposite direction, running with his head down.
'Leon!'
Anawak stopped abruptly. They were very close. Only the entrance to the companionway lay between them.
'Jude, Sal…' Anawak stared at them. 'What a surprise.'