Toxic (15 page)

In small groups, the individuals with their exhausted bodies rushed towards Dewei and then stopped abruptly. They smelled him – sometimes several times – and then brushed against him before finally going back on their way. As soon as they approached, they observed that surprising behavior: they smelled him and then left. None of them touched the Asian. In the middle of the tide, he maintained his static posture, that of an indifferent idol in the center of a crowd of wobbly admirers.

“How is that possible?” Elaine murmured.

“I haven't the slightest idea.”

For several minutes, the bizarre ballet continued under their incredulous eyes. The horde paraded and many of its members stopped briefly beside Dewei. Sometimes, the creatures went back towards him before losing interest and going back in their initial direction. The state of overexcitement at the moment of charging fell like a bellows. The infected lowered their arms and folded their fingers. They watched the horde until it left the neighborhood. Elaine hadn't noticed that the girl had come out of her corner, also intrigued by the spectacle. The danger over, the nurse hurried outside after getting the green light from the marine who opened the door for her.

“Dew! It's Elaine. Do you recognize me?”

The Asian watched her with an empty stare, exactly like in the port. She felt him, running her fingers over his face and his legs. He hadn't been bitten. An inexplicable miracle.

“Dew! We can't stay here. We're going back to Hector's boat.”

His lips moved without making a sound. He lowered his head and walked in the direction of the beach.

“I think he understood,” she announced.

The colonel covered their retreat to the pier. He didn't put down his 45 until they were on the pontoon. Beside the post where the boat was tied, Bruce and Alva were beside the Colombian. When they arrived, the trio watched them, noting the presence of the girl. Elaine brought the colonel aside.

“We should avoid talking to the others about it and keep it secret. I think that Dew is important and that we need to protect him. Do you agree?”

“Something that important? OK,” he accepted, “but that's not what's worrying me the most.”

He pointed to Alison with a discreet movement of his chin.

“The girl won't say anything if I ask her.”

“Because you freed her father? The problem’s not her.”

In the space of a fraction of a second, Elaine put on a scowl before re-joining the group. Hector confirmed Masters' premonition.

“
La niña
, she's not coming on board.”

“Listen to me...” Elaine started.

Hector interrupted her right away. “
¡No, tú me escuchas!
You didn't bring enough food for another person. I'm the captain; I decide who comes and goes.”

“But we can't leave her here!”

“You brought her; it's your problem.”

The others didn't show support or disapproval. The gazes of Bruce and Alva fled into the distance. Maters visibly didn't want to take part. Besides, getting back on board wasn't exactly what he wanted. Elaine took a deep breath.

“The girl has crucial information,” she revealed.

“Let it be,” Hector said once again in a firm voice. “She's not coming on.”

To back up his words, he armed his gun. The nurse then grabbed Alison by the shoulders. “She knows where to find the cure.”

The girl's eyes went from one member of the group to another. The biologist and the singer turned towards them. The colonel's mouth opened and then closed. Elaine, who was looking at Hector, drove in the nail.

“She'll tell us everything if she comes with us.”

“T
o become a good product, the human must be prepared. There’s a whole art to it,” Naakrit affirmed in front of the airlock which opened before their passage. Jave entered first. Glowing baseboards guided them to an automated control room. A mercenary, laying down in his holosphere, supervised all operations. When his head emerged from the information landscape, Jave recognized a Squil. The biped moved his multiple upper limbs. His green skin, darker than his own, had a sort of glow to it that could have been considered wet. On the back side of his head, two parallel pink lines sprouted from the base of his neck and marked the position of his gills. The genetic makeup of Squils included fish among their ancestors, which made them a race praised in their management of amphibious attacks. Oceans covered almost six octiams of Earth’s surface. However, the Primark had established his headquarters in a desert zone.

“Tyel supervises the chain,” Naakrit specified. “The conditioning starts as soon as the products cross the dome’s grey doors.”

The process followed the strict sanitary regulations in effect within the Collective regarding the introduction of “biological material destined for consumption.” The captive humans breathed air dusted with nanoparticles designed to clean their bodies. The tiny capsules also released tiny amounts of behavior inhibitors. At the end of the second day, the grey doors opened up to the neighboring space, equipped with long lines of chairs and metal tables. The plates of food were an attractive bait. Smell diffusers went into action to convince even the most stubborn. Driven by hunger and drugged, they gave in to temptation.

“The food doesn’t contain additives or synthetic hormone complexes. We apply the strictest regulations here.”

The Primark wasn’t hiding his pride.

“What happens to products carrying diseases, viruses and other bacteria?” Jave enquired.

“The chain contains a radiation sterilization chamber stage. Costly, but effective.”

The goal was to put a flawless-quality product on the market. A panel rose and unveiled four hundred individuals sitting down at tables. They took up a few rows of a room designed to hold ten times more people.

“They never finish their last meal,” Naakrit continued. “We release an odor-free, colorless gas.”

After a few minutes, the humans slumped on the robotic seats, which then started to move about strangely. They rose up in succession and each one transported its precious passenger to the next stage. Jave followed the reptilian, who moved to the next observation post. Before them, a robot-chair stopped. The arm rests transformed into articulated arms. The limbs swept the surface of the inanimate body. One of them stopped at the level of the torso and two needles plunged into the tissue.

“We start off by stopping the organ in charge of pumping blood. We have to remove fluids quickly.”

Two hoses were fixed onto the product’s neck and leg. While the first one sucked up blood, the second one injected a yellow liquid. The operation was complete when the two tubes showed the same color.

“An imperfect purge degrades the desired final quality. The nutritional solution also guarantees better conservation.”

Once this essential stage was finished, the next ones followed right afterwards. The seats removed their unmoving guests’ clothes and then shot off to a hallway filled with spray machines. Jave understood that the humans, now dead, went through some sort of cleaning process.

Further down the line, the hairless bodies, suspended by their ankles, filed in front of a window. Robots cut off the fingers of each hand and pierced the thighs to place a chip under the skin.

“Date and location of capture, hour they entered the chain, record of temperature changes, humidity, etc.”

“And the fingers?” the emissary enquired, more interested by this detail than the procedure. “Why remove them at this stage?”

“They are a luxury dish. They undergo specific treatment and are destined for the luxury markets run by the Combinate which benefits from, as you know, the exclusive distribution of human finger bones.”

“The storage conditions aren’t the same, I assume.”

“Exactly. They aren’t cryoconserved like the bodies. We keep them at a temperature which allows them to keep their freshness and their taste qualities, which, evidently, increases their market value.”

“And sanitary control?”

“Inspectors from the Collective are just as meticulous as obsessive Lynians, but they approved the process, which includes vacuum conditioning for the fingers to stop the decomposition of tissue. Healthy products are rare, so we have to make the most of each capture. I can’t allow for the slightest rejection.”

The emissary didn’t even notice the underhanded attack. At the end of the chain, he observed humans being deposited into translucent sarcophagi with care. Once sealed, they slid along rails until reaching an opening.

“A tunnel brings them to the former airport which we have reconfigured to accommodate cargo shuttles and T-Js, which stock them on the megatransporter.”

“Are you planning to build other conditioning centers?”

“Three, but due to the lack of healthy humans in sufficient quantities, the materials remain in storage on board the logistical station waiting for the virus problem to be solved.”

“Time is not playing to your favor.”

“In fact, if the chain isn’t running at full capacity, we’re running it at our loss.”

Behind the already complicated financial equation, the Primark was also putting his reputation on the line. A failure would cause his fall. The best chance of his career would be transformed into a trap.

“I have to deliver one hundred thousand units to the Kuat Cartel shortly,” Naakrit admitted. “I’m at the risk of not being able to complete their order.”

Commercial organization prospered on a dozen of worlds bordering the Collective and therefore beyond the territory exclusively controlled by the Combinate. They sold near everything and anything as soon as it made a profit, Jave remembered. They wanted humans. Not at all accommodating, the Kuatians didn’t hesitate to take rapid measures in the case of discontent or lateness.

Jave’s bracelet buzzed. The Lynian moved away and then came back to the Primark a moment later. “I need to cut short this visit.”

Jave went to the quarters of the Säzkari, meaning “the one who heals.” The rooms took up an entire floor and smelled like humans. Dozens of corpses and pieces of corpses were piled up on the refrigerated shelves in rows. To obtain a product that met technical specifications, it had also been necessary to test transformation methods before moving on to mass production, the emissary told himself. The reptilian doctor welcomed him with a disapproving click of his jaw.

“I need to inform the Primark of your presence.”

“You won’t do anything.”

The Lynian walked towards the chrome tray in the middle of the room. He observed half a dozen pieces of blue flesh carefully displayed under bright lights.

“There’s nothing useful here,” the Säzkari declared.

Jave leaned over the tray, which was levitating in the middle of the room.

Once he had safely reached the surface, Kjet had ordered the Siberian laboratory bombed. The drone had copiously sprayed the facilities despite his protests. Almost nothing remained of the Sybarian. Nothing but useless fragments. He had hoped that a clue would have at least escaped from the carnage, and found himself alone with his thoughts. The loyal lieutenant had ordered the strike in a rush when they weren’t threatened. The infected were in the basement and were not at risk of climbing up the cavern walls. Jave had managed to get several swarms of bots to explore the ruins to search for the mercenary’s remains.

“The chemical analyses?” he asked.

“Explosive residue on the samples.”

“No traces of bites or human DNA?”

The reptilian gratified him with a whistle. “No, but the samples are not sufficient to conclude anything.”

“No traces,” Jave repeated, “or human blood spatter on any of these pieces?”

The Säzkari confirmed. The absence of proof revealed itself to be more interesting in the end.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Jave declared.

The emissary took the tube and went up a few floors, lost in his thoughts.

Upon arrival, feverish activity took him away from his thoughts. From their virtual spheres, mercenaries put the information broadcasted into moving strip in order. The transparent layer of information was superimposed onto the scene which stretched from one end to the other end of the control room. A red square encircled one individual in the middle of the horde. Jave froze, stunned by what he saw. The infected moved towards him with the intention of devouring him and then suddenly, without any particular reason, they left him alone. This singular behavior raised many questions. The Primark turned in his direction.

“Finally, you’re here. Where were you?”

Jave ignored the question. He approached the screen. “How long ago was this taken?”

Naakrit raised his four fingers in the direction of his new operations manager. The Arthrosian, with his hard purple shell, summed up the situation for him. “This sequence was taken approximately an hour ago. It was taken by a patrol drone on the east coast of Florida, North America.”

“Where does this isolated product come from?”

“We don’t have any information on him. It’s very likely that he’s moving alone or that he belongs to a small group.”