Project Cyrano: A Genetic Engineering Technothriller (Genetic Engineering, TechnoThriller) Read Online Free Page A
communication problems? I can’t connect to the director.”
She could almost imagine his puzzled face. “No, but let me check.” A few seconds later, he said, “You’re right. The satellites around the base are blocking all outgoing messages.”
“Thank you, Anders. Any progress on lifting Cyrano’s quarantine?”
“No, but I should have it soon.”
The communicator went silent. Sosa propped her elbows on the desk and made a pyramid with her fingers. Yes, it was as she thought.
“McKusick.”
“Yes?”
“I would like to talk to you for a moment.”
He grumbled. “Can it wait? I can’t keep working with all these interruptions.”
“I haven’t interrupted you since breakfast. Get in here.”
McKusick appeared half an hour later, sat down in a chair bolted to the floor, and frowned. “What is so critical I had to walk a mile to hear it? Couldn’t you have told me over the communicator?”
She shook her head and said, “We have been abandoned.”
Startled, he said, “Excuse me?”
“The CIA, I assume, has decided this facility is too dangerous to be allowed to exist, and if needed, they will take us with it if they feel they must. They can’t allow a pathogen like this one to get out into the general population.”
“So the satellites are not only there to protect us, but also to take us out.”
She nodded.
“This is why I generally don’t like the CIA.”
Sosa laughed. The sound echoed off the walls like the waves of the sea. “If we don’t get this base under control in three days, we’re dead whether the mutants get to us first or not.”
He smirked. “I might be dead before then anyway.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come with me to the lab.”
She observed everything about him as they traveled. He walked a little slower than normal and his breathing was a little faster, but shallower, like he couldn’t get enough air. Little beads of sweat dripped down the back of his neck. McKusick was older than her, to be sure, but not by much. Deep wrinkles pinched his eyes and lips. He looked like he had aged ten years.
When they got to the lab, he gave her his tablet.
“What is it I’m looking at, McKusick?”
“This is a graph of my arterial oxygen levels compared to the average.”
She looked at the data, almost dropped the tablet, and stared at him. “You’re slowly suffocating.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m not suffocating...Yet. There is a chance of that. My blood is not carrying enough oxygen, so it’s as if I’m at a permanent high altitude. Look at my chest.” He opened his suit a few inches so she could make out his skin. It had a slight bluish tint.
“It’s called cyanosis.” McKusick started to rub and massage his hands. “I feel a little stiff. All this because of a small change in a line of DNA. Hopefully it will hit a point where symptoms do not get any worse and I’ll be able to manage with it until I can get back home and fix it. If it doesn’t... I will suffocate within the next thirty-two hours.”
“McKusick!” Sosa’s eyes smoldered with repressed fury. “Why did you not tell me? How long has this been going on?”
“I noticed two days ago.” He said.
She rubbed her temples. “McKusick, I’m not going to tell you to stop working because that would be a lesson in futility. But please don’t keep things from me. I’m going to find one of those mutants. I need to know you will be alive when I get back.”
“If you get back within thirty-two hours.”
“Sometimes I hate you.”
“92-F4 is in the second hall on the right, fifty yards.”
Sosa stalked toward her target through the unlit hall. Now she found the emptiness strangely comforting. Nothing to smash into or trip over. Nothing to impede her shots, and no distractions. Only smooth metal and the silence of a dead city. Her
She could almost imagine his puzzled face. “No, but let me check.” A few seconds later, he said, “You’re right. The satellites around the base are blocking all outgoing messages.”
“Thank you, Anders. Any progress on lifting Cyrano’s quarantine?”
“No, but I should have it soon.”
The communicator went silent. Sosa propped her elbows on the desk and made a pyramid with her fingers. Yes, it was as she thought.
“McKusick.”
“Yes?”
“I would like to talk to you for a moment.”
He grumbled. “Can it wait? I can’t keep working with all these interruptions.”
“I haven’t interrupted you since breakfast. Get in here.”
McKusick appeared half an hour later, sat down in a chair bolted to the floor, and frowned. “What is so critical I had to walk a mile to hear it? Couldn’t you have told me over the communicator?”
She shook her head and said, “We have been abandoned.”
Startled, he said, “Excuse me?”
“The CIA, I assume, has decided this facility is too dangerous to be allowed to exist, and if needed, they will take us with it if they feel they must. They can’t allow a pathogen like this one to get out into the general population.”
“So the satellites are not only there to protect us, but also to take us out.”
She nodded.
“This is why I generally don’t like the CIA.”
Sosa laughed. The sound echoed off the walls like the waves of the sea. “If we don’t get this base under control in three days, we’re dead whether the mutants get to us first or not.”
He smirked. “I might be dead before then anyway.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come with me to the lab.”
She observed everything about him as they traveled. He walked a little slower than normal and his breathing was a little faster, but shallower, like he couldn’t get enough air. Little beads of sweat dripped down the back of his neck. McKusick was older than her, to be sure, but not by much. Deep wrinkles pinched his eyes and lips. He looked like he had aged ten years.
When they got to the lab, he gave her his tablet.
“What is it I’m looking at, McKusick?”
“This is a graph of my arterial oxygen levels compared to the average.”
She looked at the data, almost dropped the tablet, and stared at him. “You’re slowly suffocating.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m not suffocating...Yet. There is a chance of that. My blood is not carrying enough oxygen, so it’s as if I’m at a permanent high altitude. Look at my chest.” He opened his suit a few inches so she could make out his skin. It had a slight bluish tint.
“It’s called cyanosis.” McKusick started to rub and massage his hands. “I feel a little stiff. All this because of a small change in a line of DNA. Hopefully it will hit a point where symptoms do not get any worse and I’ll be able to manage with it until I can get back home and fix it. If it doesn’t... I will suffocate within the next thirty-two hours.”
“McKusick!” Sosa’s eyes smoldered with repressed fury. “Why did you not tell me? How long has this been going on?”
“I noticed two days ago.” He said.
She rubbed her temples. “McKusick, I’m not going to tell you to stop working because that would be a lesson in futility. But please don’t keep things from me. I’m going to find one of those mutants. I need to know you will be alive when I get back.”
“If you get back within thirty-two hours.”
“Sometimes I hate you.”
“92-F4 is in the second hall on the right, fifty yards.”
Sosa stalked toward her target through the unlit hall. Now she found the emptiness strangely comforting. Nothing to smash into or trip over. Nothing to impede her shots, and no distractions. Only smooth metal and the silence of a dead city. Her
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