Stasis: A Will Vullerman Anthology (16 page)

Trenchcoat paused. His voice sounded heavy, low, weighted with an emotion that Will couldn't place. "I am the immortal man."

Now! Will lunged.

And his senses crashed into darkness with the heart-stopping jolt of a stun rod.

************

Will woke with his arms in the air, pressure tugging at his wrists. He was standing. Or was he? His head ached like someone had blown his brains out with a gun.

Will forced his eyes open. It hurt, but the room he was in had little light to irritate his headache further, just a glow from a gap above the door. The room was tall, maybe ten meters to the ceiling, but small, no more than five meters in length. Chains hung from the walls on either side of him, and a rusty iron door stood directly in front of Will. And it smelled stuffy and sweaty, like a gym with an air-con failure.

He shifted, and something cold pressed against his wrists and his ankles. Will bowed his head and examined his feet.

Manacles. That's what was binding him. Will's feet were chained to the wall by two heavy iron manacles, and he hung a half a meter above the ground by his arms. His arms burned terribly, aching and throbbing like he had been doing weights till it hurt.

How long had he been like this? The typical stun rod knocked someone out for a couple hours, but the man's modified rod may have had a stronger setting.

More importantly, where was he? The Middle Ages? Manacles were a strange way to keep someone bound. And how could he get out?

Will craned his neck and examined the irons clamped on his wrists. The manacles were rusty, rubbing off on his wrists. Or was the red color something else?

With a hard swallow, Will pushed the thought aside. Examining the manacles wouldn't do any good, anyhow. They were tight enough that he couldn't maneuver his wrist out of their grip. At least he wasn't gagged.

Then the door to the room swung open with a rusty squeal, and the light blinked on, an old-fashioned lightbulb, soaking the room in a dim yellow light. An old man hobbled in, supporting himself with a white cane. His hair was a spotty white, but tufts of pitch black hair grew out here and there, like they were pushing out of his skull. His face was twisted and wrinkled, as if he had undergone reconstructive surgery, with a long hooked nose, sagging cheeks, and deep-set eyes. One of his legs was twisted and shorter than the other, while the other appeared to be healthy.

Will tried not to stare at him, but the old man was hideous. A mad scientist straight out of an old science-fiction story.

“Rise and shine!” The old man halted in front of Will and poked his stomach with the cane. “Well, look'ee there! Sleeping beauty's awake, boy. Surprised he's already conscious, considering the jolt you gave him with your stunner. Why'd you give it to him at maximum?”

A familiar hooded figure slipped in the door and closed it behind him, carrying a box on his shoulder. Trenchcoat again. “This one's more dangerous than the other one.” He set the box down with a grunt.

The old man hobbled back a couple steps and gestured to Will with his cane. “Well, let the fellow loose. I've got to get some samples from him.”

Will swallowed. Samples? What sort of samples? So help him, if they tried to do any bizarre experiments...

“Did you hear me the first time?” Trenchcoat crossed his arms. “This one's more dangerous than the other one. It was hard enough subduing the bald guy.”

The bald guy? Will stiffened. What had they done with Rolvo?

And if they had done something to Rolvo, might they do the same to him? He had to get out of here. He tugged on the manacles that clasped his wrists. No good. They were rusty, but they held firm.

“Well, boy, we can't exactly use the paralysis generator on him, can we? I've got to test his nerves, and that can't be done with your little toy interfering with the signal.” The old man leaned over, supporting himself with the cane. He dug through the box with one hand and came out with an old, boxy medical scanner a little bigger than Will's palm. “Put some handcuffs on him or something. When I'm ready, mind you. Most of the tests I can do from here, but I'll need to work with his nerve endings, and he'll have to be off the chains for that.”

The old man turned away from the box, and the medical scanner turned on with a beep. He squinted at Will. “Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Jamin. 'The incredible genius' also works well as a title.”

Will looked him over again and tried to keep a neutral face. He nodded toward Trenchcoat. “And him? The...immortal man?”

“Told you that, did he?” Jamin glanced back at the figure, who stood leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Ty here is the only experiment of mine that lived.”

“If you can call it living.” The man—Ty—removed his hood, revealing his face. He had strong cheekbones, a prominent nose, and a firm look to his face—maybe in his late twenties. His lips curved downward slightly. His shaggy brown hair hung over his ears. But his eyes were haunting—a dark amber, deep pools of sorrow and age. Full of fire, and emotion, and heaviness.

Will shivered.

“You'd certainly be dead if it weren't for me!” Jamin lifted the scanner a couple centimeters away from Will's stomach, and it beeped rhythmically. “Good, good,” he muttered, “vital signs normal.” He cleared his throat and raised his voice again. “I took you from your dead mother's arms. You were dying, boy! I used an infusion out of desperation. The last one—and it's just my luck that it was the only one that worked. Still haven't found the same formula, since your system digested it all. And your kiddo chemistry was all out of whack, so the formula wouldn't have worked on anyone else anyway.” He snorted. “I hope it gave you a stomachache.”

“A heartache.”

“Oh, don't start the emotional junk again. I've heard it all a thousand times, boy.” Jamin took one of the receptors from the scanner, raised Will's shirt, and pressed it on Will's chest. Will gritted his teeth and wished he could kick the man. He'd certainly deal with him, once he escaped. The fist of the law.

But first, he had to find out whether there was anyone left to rescue when he
did
escape.

“And my friend?” Will directed his gaze towards Ty. “What happened to my friend?”

“He woke hours ago,” Ty said, quietly. “Jamin already took him. Chances are, you'll never see your friend again. And if you do see him, he won't be the man you once knew.”

“Stop judging me, you two-faced idiot,” Jamin growled. “I can hear the accusations in your voice.”

“Killing people to find your formula again will never stop being wrong.”

Will clenched his fists and pulled at his manacles. “Then he's dead?”

“No, no, the boy's a drama queen.” Jamin pulled out the receptor and pressed a button on the scanner. “He's not dead. Not yet, anyway.”

Not yet? What did that mean? Will gritted his teeth and leaned as far forward as his chains allowed. “What did you do to—ow!” Will winced as Jamin pricked one of his fingers.

“Stop squirming. It'll hurt less if you struggle less.” Jamin squinted at the scanner screen. “And as to your friend, well, he'll thank me if the infusion works.”

Ty crossed his arms. “I never did.”

“Then why do you stay?” Will kicked as hard as he could against his chains, causing Jamin to take a step back. He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. The scientist was jumpy—there was some fear in him yet, and that meant that he had a vulnerability somewhere. Then he glanced over at Ty. “Why do you stay when this man murders other people's friends and family?”

“Because I want to be able to die of old age.” Ty leaned back against the wall, his head resting on the concrete. He didn't look at Will.

“Now you've done it,” Jamin muttered under his breath, tapping on the screen of his scanner. “You've gone and made him speech at you.”

Ty stared up at the ceiling. “Jamin is the only man that might be able to help me become mortal again. You can't imagine what my life is like. I can never fall in love—because I'll never put somebody else through the pain of growing old without me. Living here alone makes me feel empty, like I've forgotten something important, but I stay because I have to. Jamin, twisted as he is, is the only hope I've got.”

Jamin snorted and knocked his cane against the box, ignoring Ty's passionate outburst. “Put some handcuffs on him, boy. I need to examine the spinal cord.”

Will tensed. Then Jamin pulled out a stun rod with his free hand and made sure Will saw it. “No tricks.”

Ty shrugged off his coat and tossed it aside. He bent down and dug through the box.

Will's mind whirred. Think! How could he use this to his advantage? There was no way he'd be able to get out of the manacles, so his escape or something that could help his escape had to happen while he was free—or handcuffed. Hands behind his back.

His back. That was it. He had an electro-utility knife in his back pocket. He pressed his back against the wall—he could feel the lump. Still there.

But what would he do with it? He had already seen Ty's abilities—he was more than a match for Will, even when he was alone. But between Jamin and Ty, Will couldn't escape, not forcibly.

Ty stood up, one pair of handcuffs in each hand. He tucked one in his pocket and pulled out a keyring.

“Hurry it up, boy.” Jamin checked the scanner. “I've got thirty minutes till the bald guy's done cooking, and I've got to be there in ten to adjust the stabilizers.”

Ty glanced up at Will. “You're a smart fellow,” he said, his voice quiet. “You realize that if you try to kick me once I free your legs, not only will Jamin give you a zap, but even if you did manage to knock us both out, you'd still be hanging here by your arms.”

“Understood.” Will raised his chin. “No struggling.”

“Excellent.” He unlocked Will's legs and handcuffed them together. Jamin grumbled, but stood back with the scanner in one hand and leaned on his cane with the other. Then Ty unlocked Will's hands and lowered him to the ground by his armpits. Will kept his gaze forward and gave no indication of any discomfort or that he would struggle. He had to keep up an innocent exterior as much as possible.

Ty twisted Will's arms behind his back and handcuffed his wrists as well. Then he sat Will down on the floor, firmly, but without any extra force. Jamin hobbled over behind Will, and Will stared at his feet as the scanner beeped behind him. He could feel the slim electro-utility knife pressed against his knuckles through the fabric of his pants, but he couldn't use it. Not yet.

“All right, that's enough.” Jamin limped forward and tossed the scanner back into the box. “Come with me, boy. Somebody's got to keep the pressure steady while I work the genetic stabilizers.”

Ty looked sidelong at Will. “Should I hang him up there again?”

Jamin dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “I've got to adjust the stabilizers in five minutes and it'll take my blamed leg three to get there. Leave him. He's not going anywhere, trussed up like that.”

Will sat up a little bit. They weren't going to hang him up on the chains again?

“But—“

“No buts, boy! Carry the box.”

Ty hefted the box onto his shoulder and exited the room. Jamin followed, pulling the door shut, and the lock clicked.

Will waited a few moments and then dug his hand into his pocket. He caught the knife with one finger and pulled it out. He felt it for a few moments until he found the lockpick. Standard-issue ASP utility knife. Most of the locks were computer-oriented nowadays, but occasionally agents found themselves in more old-fashioned places.

He worked the lockpick for a few moments, and with a click, the handcuffs opened. Will let them drop to the ground and went to work on his handcuffed feet.

Once that was finished, he stood and stretched. It felt good to be standing again. Now he had to get out of this place.

Will picked the door lock and opened it as quietly as he could. The rusty hinges screamed louder than a baby, but as soon as there was room for Will to get through, he slipped through the doorway and into the hall.

It looked similar to the genetics facility: unpainted concrete walls and minimally glossed cement floors. There was definitely air-con in the rest of the facility. The air smelled more sterile and clean, and about five degrees colder. He turned left and headed down the hallway.

Will came upon an open door. He halted, pressed his back against the wall, and peered inside. Empty. An old touch-computer was hanging on the wall, with hardware strewn about the room on sagging shelves and old, worn desks.

Good. It looked like the sort of place where he might find some information—or at least a map of the facility so he could tell where he was going. Will stepped inside, turned on the light, and shut the door quietly behind him. He turned the lock.

Then Will pressed the power button on the lower right-hand corner of the screen. The computer powered on, flashing the word “Welcome” before going to the home screen. No password or encryption, which was a relief, since Will's comm had been taken after he was knocked out. He guessed that the only people to ever come in this room were Ty and Jamin himself. No need for a password.

He keyed in a command and the computer brought up a map of the facility according to the security system. There were more than a dozen rooms, including one large one at the center of the facility, with hallways between them like strands of a spiderweb.