Hurt World One and the Zombie Rats (17 page)

‘Sure, why not?’

Huffine looked over Mas some more, floating
on her back amongst twenty other candidates. ‘Although her
background identity checks out, she doesn’t look much like an
information technologist to me. I would enjoy running a memory scan
on her. That is impossible to fake. We have the facilities here to
do it.’

‘It’s illegal to do without authorisation,
and the Space Agency is not about to do that with their astronauts.
Space is empty enough of human enterprise without keeping it out of
reach of the crazy ones. And I’m sure she’s all of that.’

‘You assume she’s crazy because that’s been
the trait of every peer you’ve ever known. Has it ever occurred to
you that it might be space that does it to them?’

‘Space is a beautiful place. Quiet and
clean.’

‘That’s enough to make most people crazy.
Especially on longer missions. You travelled quite far yourself.
Chasing comets.’

‘Did I snap? Maybe not. But zero gravity can
certainly bend you out of shape.’

‘A woman with her incredible potential could
do anything she sets her mind to,’ said Huffine seriously. ‘You
should talk to her, make sure she’s going to space for the right
reasons. Maybe she’s just being chased by a mad ex-lover, or she
could be grieving the loss of someone close to her.’

‘Alright, I’ll talk to her,’ said Prian. ‘I’m
just glad she’s going to pass her evaluations Otherwise, I might
have needed to escape into space myself.’ He got up from his chair
and took one last look down at the pool from the control room’s
centre window. ‘Things have changed since the days I was just
starting out.’

‘You didn’t have the technology back
then?’

‘Fortunately, no. I’ve done quite well going
through life not knowing how I’m destined to die.’

14 The rats get bigger

The Zopez’s paint had been stripped away and
all its modern fittings removed. During its time at the Las Gabos
wharf, the boat had aged fifty years. The Zopez was gone and the
Kudos had returned. Rarely had a boat captain been so proud of so
decrepit a vessel.

‘Would you like to come aboard?’ queried
Captain Titov, standing by the gangway that led down to the
Zopez.

‘That won’t be necessary,’ replied Jalanti,
the Savage Alliance’s Minister for Risk and Acquaintance’s from
beside her. Her arms were arms folded Jalanti and lips pinched as
she scrutinised the vessel intently. ‘Mas will conduct a more
thorough inspection on her return.’

‘When will that be?’

‘Soon.’

‘I understand. But if she does not return on
time, I am willing to take on her role in your operation. You will
find me capable.’

‘If it comes to that, I will give it due
consideration. But I have already chosen my people carefully. You
can expect to see Mas again.’

‘Any word when that might be?’

Jalanti shook her head. ‘Not yet. Just keep
focused on your preparations. Is there anything more that needs to
be done?’

‘Refitting the engine to its original
condition is the real challenge. Over the years there have been
frequent refittings. To a trained eye these might cause
suspicion.’

‘What parts?’

‘Rees, the engineer, can tell you that.’
Titov looked further along the wharf to a speedboat that had
recently arrived bearing supplies. ‘He is currently helping Dr
Franco unloading.’

Jalanti looked that way too, seeing heads
bobbing just above the wharf. She strode up to the wharf’s edge and
gazed down at the small boat. Packages wrapped in blue plastic were
being unloaded onto the crane’s platform by a mix of Zopez crew
members and those of the dinghy.

Dr Franco, who was supervising the operation
from the platform, noticed her presence. ‘You’re here. That’s good
timing. Our colony has progressed to its first stage and you may
want to see this for yourself.’

Jalanti noticed the blank eyes of a severed
head staring up at her through a gap in the plastic of one of the
packages. ‘If you want to keep your surprises,’ she said, ‘you
should wrap your presents more carefully.’

Franco realised what she was referring to and
rushed to pull the plastic across. ‘Apologies. My people have been
rushing to fill your order, keeping the product as fresh as
possible. Freshness is important. I want our little friends to be
fussy eaters.’

The three dinghy crew members continued to
work quickly, unloading all the large square packages before
jumping back into the boat and speeding away. The crane platform
rose onto the wharf where Dr Franco and Rees transferred the
packages onto an awaiting motorized trolley. ‘Now, Minister,’ said
Dr Franco, ‘if you would kindly follow me.’ He steered the trolley
off the wharf and across the abandoned industrial complex to the
Silo 1 elevator. Jalanti followed wearily, the knowledge of what
was contained in the blue plastic filling her with unease.

‘We won’t have much time,’ Dr Franco said in
a light mood as the elevator climbed. ‘I must emphasise that what
we are about to attempt is highly dangerous. If you are at all
squeamish or anxious about witnessing this aspect of the operation,
we can have cameras connected to your office.’

‘No cameras,’ said Jalanti adamantly.
‘Secrecy is paramount.’

‘I understand.’ Dr Franco snickered. ‘When
one is feeding human flesh to rats, discretion certainly is an
important consideration.’

Jalanti glanced grimly at the wrapped up
flesh on the trolleys. ‘I assume these people were already dead
before being shipped for this purpose.’

‘I can’t say. I’ve heard of people donating
their organs to science, but not of anyone giving their bodies for
rat food. You are not a scientist, however, and are free to assume
whatever you please. I can at least assure you I have been using
the same suppliers for a number of years and they have always been
able to provide whatever required quickly, efficiently and
discreetly.’

‘That’s good.’

The elevator clanged to a stop and Dr Franco
hurriedly pressed the kill switch to keep the doors closed. ‘The
feeding floors are kept at a temperature too cool for the rats to
stay there, but once the food is presented, we will have about
forty seconds before they arrive. Beyond that, if you decide to
stay, it will take about one minute before only your bones remains.
Shall we proceed?’

Jalanti looked nervously at the elevator
doors and took in a breath. ‘Let’s do it.’

Franco let the doors and guided the trolley
out onto the narrow gantry. ‘Now be sure not to slip,’ he
affirmed.

Jalanti took a large, excited stride. The
rumblings from the distant floor of the silo had already begun. Dr
Franco pulled some meat out of the plastic and tossed it over the
railing to the distant floor. ‘I’ve kept them hungry for this,’ he
said, his breath a thick, icy vapour. ‘They’re going to associate
cold with very good eating.’

The rats were charging out of the darkness in
a massive stampede up the steel stairs toward the seventh floor
feeding platform. Their bodies were huge and they came in their
thousands. They had just reached the second floor when Jalanti
shakily started back for the elevator. Dr Franco, hurriedly
emptying out meat from the bags, grabbed her with one hand. ‘Stay
here,’ he said. ‘Feel their hunger.’

Jalanti’s eyes widened at the grotesque sight
of chopped up body parts covering the floor. She tried to break
Franco’s hold but it was unremitting. She turned her attention to
the shuddering stairs at the end of the platform. The stench of
dead bodies and rodents was overwhelming and Jalanti felt herself
growing light headed. The horror of fainting was too great to even
contemplate. Dr Franco emptied out one more bag and yanked on her
arm. ‘Let’s go.’ Jalanti went with him on rubbery legs. They were
inside the elevator and the doors were closing. The rats sped onto
the feeding platform, lunging ravenously at the first of the human
flesh. They were enormous, terrifying creatures, ripping off chunks
of meat with long, razor sharp teeth. Jalanti couldn’t contain her
scream. And at last the doors were closed. Jalanti jumped up
hugging Franco and this time screamed with joy. ‘Oh my God! That
was so exciting. My heart is pounding.’

Dr Franco smiled. ‘It was something, wasn’t
it? Now you can understand why I’ve been insisting your crew make
that boat so strong. It will be holding an army of supreme
killers.’

‘I’ll have them add some steel reinforcement
to the doors. When will the rats be ready?’

‘The toxoplasma has taken over their minds
and human flesh has just become their meal of choice. My girl, they
are ready now.’

15 A warning

Friday nights at the Spanish Club meant a few
more people staying a little longer and people drinking a little
more. Kaptu could see there were a lot of tired faces, people
relieved the working week was over without yet being able to let it
go. And there were others with hard faces and whispered
conversations, very much looking like they were still working. Just
as long as his view of the stage was not impeded, Kaptu did not
much care who they were. Natalie was seeking him out as she danced
and his eyes were rarely straying from her. This was his second
week of watching her performance and he found it was becoming the
centre of his existence. There were things he did before it and
there were things he did after it, the strength training, the
weapons practice, the love making, the planning to escape Paris,
but it was only when watching Natalie dancing her flamenco did his
day feel complete. Although there were dancers in Asylum City, none
of them moved quite like this, moved like they were free. But
suddenly Natalie’s eyes widened uneasily and she lost the fluency
in her movements. It was at the same moment that the man sat down
at Kaptu’s table.

‘My name is Mischa of the Special Alpine
Force. Do you remember me? I certainly remember you. You caught our
attention back in Par. Even from a metre beneath the snow.’

Kaptu Z looked Mischa over carefully and
sipped his whisky on the rocks. ‘How did you find me here?’

‘Intuition. A snitch tells us that a Greek
death team has been brought in for a hit in this bar. The target
has been given the codename Z. The client is someone out of Asylum
City. I thought it was worth dropping in to take a look. And here
you are.’

‘Are you that keen to find me?’

‘Not in the way you may fear. You have been
granted immunity from arrest for your actions in Switzerland,
including drugging a very good friend of mine. It is Mas I want.
She has disappeared into France and your presence is the only thing
we know of that might lure her into the open.’

‘Mas is an employee. She went to Switzerland
to kill a certain dog only because she doesn’t want to be linked to
whatever job she has been hired to do. It is that job you should be
worried about.’

‘And what do you know about it?’

‘Painfully little. A scientist specialising
in bio-weapons is in the picture. But all I’ve got, by the decree
of the World Court, is Mas.’

‘Par was evidence enough of her desire to
kill you in return. And now a death is coming, compliments of an
Asylum City gangster. It seems you are bothering some rather
serious people.’

‘When are you expecting the death team to
arrive?’

‘In their messages they say tomorrow. My
partner is out on a roof with a sniper rifle, waiting in case they
turn up a little earlier. My advice to you to walk out now and
never come back.’

‘I’ll leave, but not quite yet. And I’ll
never return only on the condition that you stay.’

‘Why would I do that? And don’t say the Greek
hit team. If you’re not here for them to hit, there won’t be the
opportunity to make an arrest.’

‘There’s a few at these tables who would be
quite upset if you didn’t consider them worthy of arrest. Heroin 3
smugglers. IT thieves. And one or two Spanish killers pining for a
little piece of home.’

‘Sounds more like a job for the local
police.’

‘No, it’s the Spanish Club itself that I’ve
got in mind. It’s a particular Asylum City gang’s European front.
Heroin 3 smuggling is just the start of it. Slave trading, organ
harvesting and contract killing.’

‘Which gang?’

‘Meltman’s gang.’

‘I have heard of him, but I didn’t know he
had a foothold in Europe.’

‘He thrives by keeping his operation
underground. And in Asylum City it’s literal. He inhabits a vast
network of tunnels, basements and caverns, virtually never
returning to the city’s surface. It makes him almost impossible to
catch. But that’s what I’m here to do and you can join in.’

‘Is this the wisest place to discuss such
plots?’

Kaptu shrugged. ‘A bar with this kind of
clientele wouldn’t last long if it took to eavesdropping. But it’s
fair to assume they know who I really am. After all, there is a
death squad on the way.’

‘That is why you should leave.’

‘No, this is not the end.’ Kaptu stood up.
‘The common trait of all criminals is greed. Even the really good
ones.’ He took a parting gulp of his whisky. ‘If I’m not back,
don’t bother leaving a tip.’

He gave Natalie a nod as he strode past the
stage. She was still staring with eyes loaded. Kaptu wondered if it
was to do with the Greek death team on the way or the Swiss police
officer at his table. As beautifully as she was dancing, he just
couldn’t tell if she was on his side or not.

Past the stage and down a passageway, there
was a single door with a bullet hole that had been crudely filled
up with chewing gum. It was Hannah’s office and Kaptu entered
without knocking. Hannah was sitting at her desk and looked up with
surprise even though she had been following his movements on her
surveillance wall-screens. ‘What do you want?’ she snapped.