Dawn of the Mad (6 page)

“This is the key,” he stated. “This solution will change the tide of the war and bring victory to our side.” He placed the vial back onto a shelf in the refrigeration unit and closed the door. “Can you imagine life without war, and the end of disease? We’re on the cusp of performing miracles!”

The assistant leaned on the edge of an examination table and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “That solution wasn’t even engineered by us. Its secrets were revealed by enemy agents pulling some sort of double cross. Yes, I concur that our results are incredible, but we cannot control or influence the solution. You know as well as I do that it has been resistant to our attempts. And as for disease, we have never attempted to utilize the solution as a cure for anything. It serves one dark purpose, the resurrection of the dead. Don’t you know what that means?” he asked in exasperation.

“Don’t lecture me! With the proper methods, we can control what we have created, mark my words. We just need more time.” The elderly scientist thought back to six months ago, when he was approached by a strange man who offered the missing link to his genetic research. He at first dismissed it, but changed his mind as he performed preliminary tests on his own. The solution was unlike anything he had ever seen before. As he experimented, without government knowledge, with his newfound solution, thoughts of treason often ran through his mind. He believed that his research could have a profound impact, but he did not yet want to share his results. He wanted to be the one performing the miracles that the solution promised.

The mysterious man had given him one vial, with simple instructions on how to synthesize more for his research. He was unable to identify the compounds contained in the solution, but after almost six months of trial and error and many failed attempts, he finally made the solution work. The delay was in the application. Once applied to dead tissue, the solution revealed its true purpose. The research and experimentation had progressed quickly from there, to the recent experiments with revitalizing the dead. Of course there were setbacks. The adjacent testing room was full of them, volunteers who gave their lives in the name of science. His primary concern now was prolonging the revitalizing effect. It was far from permanent, with the host requiring periodic injections to continue to function. Replacing some of the organs with synthetic ones seemed to prolong the effects.

He felt close to a final breakthrough, but now he faced the attack on the genetics lab. The mysterious man had told him to expect an assault on the lab, but he had put it out of his mind. Now, facing the reality of the predicted attack, he recalled that the man told him he would leave for a destination he did not know, and it was there he could find the answers he was seeking.

Suddenly, the officer in charge of security’s voice blared on the loudspeaker drowning out all the activity in the laboratory. The voice said in a monotonous tone, “We are under attack; enemy forces have breached the main doors. All non-security personnel must evacuate.” The loudspeaker fell silent, and lights flickered as the power was interrupted. The technicians stared at the loudspeaker box on the wall. “Main power lines will be shut down in five minutes,” the voice blared again.

“Why don’t you contact the home planet?” the young assistant asked. “Couldn’t they send a relief force?” The attack had rattled him, and he could focus only on the current threat to the facility, not the long-term effects on the research.

“There’s no time!” the elderly scientist yelled in response. “We must evacuate now!”

Once the power was offline, the corridor was plunged into darkness. The blast door began to close on its own accord, and trapped a few technicians in the genetics lab. Their cries and pounding on the door died off as Dr. Keitel activated a small hand torch illuminating two technicians leading a naked humanoid covered by a blanket into a transport cart waiting in the corridor. They helped the humanoid climb into the transport cart, with Dr. Keitel getting in next to it. The cart proceeded down the corridor, which was now carved out of the earth instead of metal.

“You may commence your assault now, Sergeant.” Colonel Chuikova said via the tactical net.

A thunderous explosion ripped the blast doors apart. Black smoke began to pour out. Sergeant Matthias led his platoon through the breach. The long, narrow corridor continued downward for about fifty meters until another set of blast doors blocked the way. There was currently no power, the troopers relying on their night vision to show the way. Matthias dropped to one knee and held up his arm, his hand balled into a fist, indicating to his troopers to hold position. The following troopers each took a knee and awaited further orders.

“Colonel, we have another set of doors here,” Matthias said into his helmet mike. “We need cutting equipment. It’s too narrow to blast.”

“Copy, it’s on the way. 2nd platoon is moving up for support once you get inside. If the map is correct, you should reach the main medical wing on the other side.”

“Get that cutting torch over here!” Sergeant Matthias yelled into his helmet mike. 2nd platoon formed up behind Matthias’s platoon, lining both walls of the corridor, and the mass of troops crowded the space. At the end of the line, a two-man heavy weapons crew placed a portable plasma cannon, mounted on a tri-pod, on the metal floor. A lone trooper weighted down with a large cylindrical tank on his back ran up to the massive blast doors from outside the bunker. He quickly unholstered his torch and activated it with the push of a button. A long blue superhot flame shot out, and the trooper set to work, sending red and orange sparks showering along the blast door.

“No frag grenades; stun only!” Sergeant Matthias shouted. “Stay to the sides and don’t bunch up!” he ordered when he saw that the door was nearly cut. His men were ready for action. They were focused and alert for what awaited them on the other side.

Within moments, the torch-bearing trooper moved to the rear. The lead troopers kicked in the weakened sectioned of the blast doors and threw in two stun grenades, just in case the enemy had a trap waiting for them on the other side. After the grenades detonated, the troopers stormed into the breach, expecting their first glimpse of the base defenders. Instead, as the troopers moved up in threes as their training had taught them, they encountered no enemy contact.

Matthias was close to the front of his troops. Through his night vision, he could see that the corridor opened up into a large circular control room of sorts. The middle of the room held a large semi-circular control console. Chairs were kicked over as if someone had made a hasty departure. Beyond the control console, Matthias could see the outline of another blast door. His troopers quickly cleared the room.

“No one here, sir,” a young corporal reported to Matthias. “Room is secure. The blast door on the other side is sealed.”

Matthias nodded in response. He transmitted via the tactical net, “Colonel, we are still negative. We are going to have to cut another blast door.” Matthias thought for a moment as his gaze saw dozens of conduit pipes snaking overhead on the ceiling. A few of them ran into a console station in the middle of the room. “Hold on a sec. We have a computer console here. It may be able to restore power. I can give Corporal Scotts a crack at it.”

“Hold position, Sergeant. I want that computer analyzed first before we keep going. I’d prefer to not keep announcing our presence with every corridor we enter.”

“Power is online, sergeant,” Scotts said. “I don’t know how long it will last. I re-routed power from auxiliary lines into the main grid.” Scotts rechecked the power cables he was adjusting and closed the wall access panel. Another trooper had opened another access panel in the back of the computer console and was trying to splice into the powered lines.

“Let’s see if we can get this computer online,” Matthias said.

Corporal Scotts quickly moved over to the computer console and picked up an overturned chair and sat down in it. “Give it a go, Corporal,” said the trooper behind the console as he stood up. “The main power line is live.”

Scotts nodded and flipped a switch underneath the console monitor. A few seconds later, the console terminal and a large overhead monitor hanging from the ceiling powered on.

“OK, we are in business,” Scotts said as he removed his helmet and placed it on the floor. Matthias watched over his shoulder as Scott’s fingers flew over the keyboard. Matthias opened his face shield and looked around the room. The dim light was sufficient to reveal one exit at the other end of the room.

“They must have cut the power from another location,” Scotts said. “This is basically a security terminal. I can pull up a layout of the facility, but the encryption is too strong. I can’t do much more without more time” As he typed, lines of data scrolled vertically down the monitors. Seconds later, a long corridor with three rooms branching out took shape on one of the overhead monitors. Matthias and Scotts looked up in unison. Two rooms were labeled “Genetics,” and the last room, which was the largest, was labeled “Testing.”

“That’s good enough. Hopefully whatever they were working on is on the other side of those doors.” Matthias stroked his grey beard. “Is there enough power to open the doors?”

Scotts looked back at the dusty console monitor. He banged away at the keyboard for a few minutes before shaking his head. “They are manually locked from the other side.” He looked up and met Matthias’s gaze. “Looks like we cut,” he said.

The enemy hastily assembled defensive positions out of desks, lockers, and whatever they could scavenge. A barricade in the main corridor was manned by a skeleton crew of lightly armed security personnel and scientists still wearing their white lab coats. Seeing the overhead lights suddenly come to life, the defenders knew time was short.

“When those blast doors are forced,” a smartly dressed security officer shouted to his troops, “pour everything you have into them. Take no quarter; none will be given to you. We must give as much time as possible to the doctor so he can evacuate.” The officer fingered the scar that ran down the left side of his face.

“If it is our time to die,” the officer continued calmly, “let us take as many as we can with us.” He stepped behind a large metal beam and withdrew a large, high-caliber pistol from its shoulder holster. He could see the marks from a cutting torch on the blast doors as they slowly were cut open. After a few moments, the circular cut section of the blast door heaved and groaned, crashing to the ground with a deafening roar.