Coffee (12 page)

The
man left his cart aboard the truck, and headed out carrying a small
final load by hand. She whispered profanity, and backed up as he
approached, preparing to turn and run. The sound of metal sliding
made her pause for a last look. The man closed the truck’s
rear door behind him, and secured it with a lock. One of the guards
was already in position to close the loading dock door, blocking her
only way outside.

She
ran back down the hall with the man seconds behind her. All the
store access doors would be locked, and the other end of the hall
dead ended. She would be trapped, unless she entered the door the
delivery man had wedged open.

Quietly
she passed in, keeping the door prop in place. A Sporting Goods
store. The layout was exactly the same as the Women’s Apparel
shop, five rows of racks, and some little curtained dressing rooms
to her left. She scanned the patrons to see if anyone took notice
that she’d entered through the back door. No one did. She
tried desperately to look relaxed, gazing idly at the clothes,
flipping over a few tags to inspect size and price. She noticed a
woman standing by a mirror on the far wall, admiring herself in a
pair of stirrup sweat pants and leather jacket. The curtain to one
of the dressing booths lay half open. Etty sighted a lab coat
hanging from a wall hook. She grabbed a pair of moccasin shoes and
dashed in. She slipped into the shoes, put on the lab coat, and
smoothly stepped out. Its owner continued at the mirror, not
noticing as Etty casually left the store.

Etty
studied the name tag as she walked into the Rotunda, as if to
straighten it on her lapel
. Dr. Joan Hancock, Bacteria Research
Group, ARC.

A
number of guards had collected outside of the Women’s Apparel
store, moving chaotically. She spotted Marion, shouting
instructions to one of the guards, and pointing into the back of the
store. She didn’t see Bart, but knew he would be close
behind. The chances of escaping through one of the store exits now
seemed remote. She had to risk one of the wings. More guards
approached in a large group from WIC to the south, cutting off her
access to the best options, either the Hospital or the apartments.
Her only choice was to use her ID and pass through the guard station
of ARC. This wasn’t a bad idea anyway, as she would be out of
the public area and it might give her time to plan her next step.

She
lowered her head, and watched the marble tiles as she walked, hoping
to avoid notice. At least she had shoes. Once close to the guard
station, she studied the guard’s eyes and movements, weighing
whether he already knew. The older one near the door nodded to her
with a friendly smile. Relieved, Etty gestured toward her badge and
smiled back. She swiped her card through a reader as those in front
of her had done, and passed through a turnstile.

The
ARC displayed yet another stark contrast to the other wings - mostly
white walls and floors, limited decoration, and bright florescent
lighting. A red border painted a foot from the ceiling followed
along the hallways. Instead of a reception desk, she faced a dreary
elevator lobby and a large detailed map of the wing. She noted that
each floor was color coded. Red for this floor, Yellow on the first
below, Green on three, etc. Her pass also had bars of colors,
Yellow and Red in stripes along the top. As she was still visible
from the gate, she decided to quickly take the elevator. Her first
thought was to stay off the floor where Joan Hancock worked,
figuring she would be more easily recognized by Joan’s
co-workers. But, given the obvious color matching scheme, she
decided she’d be even more obvious breaching security. Down
she went to Yellow.

This
floor had even less character. The yellow painted border gave the
only break from smudged dim walls. ‘Must find a phone. Call
the Police. No, not enough time to explain, and they’ll think
I’m crazy. ... Knut. He’ll know what to do. Let him
call the Police.’

She
tried opening a few of the doors, but all were locked. Joan had
left no keys in her lab coat, probably keeping whatever she had in
her purse. A young man approached from the opposite direction
holding a utility tray with cleaning fluids, cloths, and other
janitorial supplies. He had a spunk in his walk, and an intense
smile. Wearing a clean, white lab coat, she wouldn’t have
guessed he was a janitor, but the ammonia sprayer and unopened
toilet paper rolls among his items indicated he was. He pulled out
a wad of keys with his free hand and opened one of the doors. Etty
stepped quickly up to him.

“Oh,
good,” she said. “I forgot my keys and I need to use
the phone.”

The
man entered the room, but stopped before Etty was fully inside. He
pointed to the sign on the door:

TERMINALS

8+
Restricted

“I
assume you’re
eight plus
, ma’am.” Like
most of the people she had heard, he spoke with a thick southern
accent.

Etty
lied, wondering what it meant, “Of course.” She
followed him in.

“Good
thing, because we have a live one over there,” he said
gesturing to the far corner of the room.

Etty
strained to see where he pointed by the light shining through the
door, while the man placed his things on a table. It looked like a
poorly erected plastic tent on a table. The man turned on the
bright overhead lights. She saw it was a bed, surrounded by a
drape of plastic.

Etty
walked closer. A woman’s dead body lay beneath the foggy
cover. Etty could see her shape clearly, and some facial features.
Red puffy skin surrounded her closed eyes and cheeks. She had been
crying, or very ill, or both. Etty bent down to look more closely.
The eyes suddenly opened. Etty jumped back. “She’s
alive!” she yelled. “She’s still alive!”

“Oh,
I know,” the man responded without changing his ritual of
lining up cleaners and towels on a counter top. “Won’t
be for long though. She’ll be gone in, oh I’d bet ...
less than an hour. If I’m lucky, she’ll drop off just
when I’m finished cleaning, so I can take her to the freezer.”

“But
she needs help! She could live!” Etty walked brusquely over
to the man. “You can’t just leave her here in the dark!
Can she even breath in that thing?”

The
man showed sincere surprise, and looked back at Etty. “You’re
asking me? You’re the doctor. I just clean up the place. I
used to wonder too, all the strange things I see around here.
Bodies, freezers, gettin’ shots just to work here, it’s
downright creepy. But hey, it’s your business. ‘Slong
as I get paid, I’m happy.”

“You
were given shots?”

“You
must be new, right?” the man said, putting his things down to
give Etty his full attention.

Etty
thought quickly. “Listen, ... Tony,” she said while
looking at his name tag, “You’re right. I am new here.
To be honest, my first day is Monday, and I know almost nothing
about this place. You probably see a lot working in these rooms.
How about giving me a little perspective. I don’t want to be
an idiot on my first day.” She ended with her best cute
smile, looking at him straight on.

“Well,
sure. I, of course, have signed about a zillion papers sayin’
I won’t talk ‘n all, but for a doctor. Hell, you’ll
know all this stuff better than I do in about a day anyway. I have
a few minutes, what do you want to know.” Tony was obviously
proud that his comments would be useful to a doctor. He leaned back
on the cabinet, and crossed his arms.

“Well,
what about these shots you got?” she started.

“They
give you shots about once a week for awhile, and then they give you
these tests. You gotta pass test number eight before you can work
in some of these rooms.”

“Blood
tests?”

“Yea.
They see if you have a certain antibody or something, number eight
I guess.”

“And
you do?”

“Hell
yes, or I wouldn’t be in here. That Typhoid Mary over there
in the corner can give you a cold that will kill you in a few
hours.”

Etty’s
heart jumped. She wondered if the shots she had been given were
related, but even if they had, she could not have built up an
immunity so quickly. “Ah, you know, I kind of lied. I am not
totally sure I am eight plus yet. Can we go out in the hall?”

“Well,
okay, but it better be quick, because if my supervisor catches me
yackin’ in the hallway and not cleanin’, she’ll be
pissed off.” They reconvened outside. Etty wondered if she’d
already caught the grave disease.



Bart’s
beeper buzzed. The display read 666. ‘Emergency code,’
he said, dropping the half eaten apple pie tart on the lounge table.
While weaving through the people standing in the elevator lobby, he
pulled out a radio. “Talk to me! What’s happening!”
A scratchy voice responded, “The girl escaped. She ran for
it, out the back of the Women’s Apparel shop.”

“Damn
that Marion. I knew I should have taken her myself,” he
grumbled. He barked back his instructions. “Warn all the
guards at the drive out gate. No trucks, no cars are to pass
without inspection. Put an extra guard on every loading dock.
Search the grounds, she might be hiding on the grounds. Get a
description of her to every security guard. I want Marion and ten
guards to meet me in front of the store in one minute. Move, NOW!”



Etty
gained what knowledge she could from Tony’s limited
descriptions. He said most of the Center dealt with plant research,
developing ways to improve crop output. Based on McKinsey’s
comments, Global Growers had a proven track record. One small
division, of which Joan Hancock was a member, focused on recombinant
DNA research with bacteria. Tony said they were trying to splice in
code to make the bacteria produce certain plant hormones.

“I
keep seeing these dying girls - probably three of them in the last
month. I’m told they’re helpers in the DNA labs who
got infected with some of the powerful creations they’ve made.
Real nasty bugs. Basic bacteria that have been turned into poison
makers.”

“What
do you mean, girls? They’re always young women like the one
in there?”

“Yea,
pretty ones. Too much makeup. They don’t look like your
average lab worker, more like prostitutes.” Tony blushed,
wondering if Etty figured he had first hand experience.

Etty
did not want to re-enter the room, so she asked him where she could
find a phone. He pointed down the hall. “There’s an
administration office through the swinging doors.”



Bart
met his team in the Rotunda and quickly delivered orders, pointing
at his men like a football coach. “Spread out. You and you,
south west. You, you, north west. You three and I stay here, work
every store.”

Bart’s
radio crackled. “Bart! Come in Bart!” He whipped it
up to his ear. “Here!”

“Bart,
a woman just reported her lab coat and ID stolen from the Sporting
Goods store. Someone grabbed it out of a dressing room.”

“Sounds
like our girl. Name and location?”

“Joan
Hancock, ARC, Yellow-Red.”

Looking
up quickly at a guard next to him. “Send out the alarm! White
lab coat. You heard the name. Go!” The guard sprinted off
toward the WIC security station. Bart continued, “Look
around. She could be right here. You, come with me to ARC, let’s
see if she passed through.” To the remaining others, “Find
her!” Everyone scattered.



The
swinging doors led her to a much busier section. Etty tried to fit
in with the bustle of activity. There were more lab rooms, and
brighter lighting. An open door to the right led into a room with
two women and a man sitting behind desks attending to paperwork.
Etty entered. She saw another woman standing over a fax machine in
a small alcove in the back of the room. Thinking rapidly, she
picked a few uncrumpled pages of paper from the trash can near the
entrance before anyone noticed. A woman looked up, “May I
help you?”

“Yes,
I need to send a fax, please.”

“Sure.
If it’s outside the complex, you’ll have to enter your
code at the prompt. You’ll see. The girl in the back can
help you.”

Etty
moved to the alcove. A young clerk, a teenager, fed papers through
the reader while pushing buttons. Etty read the autodial names off
the fax control panel. “Excuse me,” she said to her
with authority. “I need to send a fax right away to United
Cocoa,” one of the names she’d read off the list.

“Oh,
sure, you go ahead. Or, I have a bunch going there myself, do you
want me to send it?”

“No,
I’ll do it, but show me how you do this. I swear, these
things change every two weeks, I can’t keep up.”

The
girl pulled a paper from her stack marked ‘United Cocoa.’
“I always check for recipient name etc., then you just feed
it in here face down and push the button with their name on it.
Easy.” The paper slowly fed through. Etty watched the
digital readout window on the fax machine as it read off its
progress.
Autodial 4 ... Enter Security Code ... Dialing ...
Connected.

“You
don’t enter a security code?”

“Oh,
I’m just a temporary, they don’t give me a code. My
supervisor programmed these autodials just for me, and put the code
right in there somehow.”

“Interesting.
Mind if I go next?”

“Sure.
Want help?”

Etty
threw her a slightly stern look. “No, this is confidential,
I’m afraid. I need to be alone. I hope you understand.”

“Sure
do. Happens a lot around here.” The girl stacked her pile
neatly to the side, smiled, and walked out. Etty followed her with
her eyes, and saw that none of the others in the office took notice.