Project - 16 (35 page)

When she was gone I tried to work some life back into my
limbs but they felt like they always did after a long nap - like
they weren't even there. I sat on the edge of the bed for a while
just breathing in her scent that clung to my skin like it was my
own. I read somewhere that the sense of smell was the strongest
memory recall tool the human body had. I couldn't argue with that
one.

I got dressed again and sorted out my hair - staring in the
mirror at a face I barely recognised. There were razors in
individual plastic wrappers and I soaped up, taking off the layer
of thick growth that had accumulated over the last two weeks. It
took some doing but by the time I was finished I felt a little more
human - even if I was bleeding a little.

When I went out into the hallway I could hear voices to my
right. I followed them to a canteen made up of four large tables
pushed together to make one big one. Along the walls were work
surfaces and in brackets were microwave ovens, a sink and a hot
water boiler. There was a staff rota on a cork board and a couple
of take-away menus pinned under it. The overhead lighting was stark
and cold.

“
Have a seat, Miller,” said Saska who was laying out plates
and cutlery. “I hope you're hungry.”

“
How are you?” I asked. She smiled but there was still emotion
hidden underneath it.

“
The journal helped. You're right - it needs to go home. His
wife will need it.”

Riley came in behind me, touched my backside as she passed
and sat down at the table with a wry grin. Her hair was stuffed
under her woolly hat and she'd rolled up her jumper sleeves in
order to reach across the table to get the toast. I went and sat
down and Alex came in with a pot of coffee and filled my
cup.

“
You never told me how you came to be involved in all this,”
said Alex, sitting across from me. He passed me a second toast rack
and a plate of that strange thing Americans called bacon. I
wondered if they'd ever seen a pig before.

“
I live here. Me and my Father came here when I was young. I
guess I'm the only Englishman left in the country who didn't run
after The Panic. He raised me - I never knew my mother - and we did
work for the States.”

“
What kind of work?” he asked.

“
Don't worry - we trained soldiers in survival techniques and
navigation. Advanced stuff that could be better taught here than
back home. Dad knew it all and he passed it on to me. We have a
house near here.”

“
I'd been told about him,” added Riley. “So when your Mom
asked me to find you, I thought it'd be best to have a native on
board. Colonel Corban recommended him personally.”

“
The same Corban?” he asked.

“
Yeah, he knew my Father too,” I said. “But it looks like I
underestimated him.”

“
So he sent you with Riley to find me?”

I went on to explain the rest, munching hot toast with butter
and bacon until I was full enough to burst. There were
reconstituted eggs on a plate and Riley had managed to eat her way
through most of them. Alex and Saska ate little but drank a third
pot of coffee whilst I told them our story.

“
Poor Piotr,” said Saska when I'd explained how he'd saved my
life. “That was him - that was his way. Always putting others
first.”

When I'd finished, Alex resumed his own account and filled in
most of the gaps we'd had from our sleepy conversation earlier that
day. By now my conception of time was a blur, one made all the more
hazy given that we were deep underground with no sunlight or stars
to govern our days.

“
We've suspected all along that the vault and the cure were
put down here in haste,” said Alex.

“
What makes you think that?”

“
It's too well planned,” said Saska. “My contact reached me
after a talk I gave at a University in Moscow about the rise in
mental health issues following the war in France. I didn't see it
as a coincidence.”

“
Has his identity always been a mystery?” asked
Riley.

“
Yes. I received coded messages and emails, sometimes even
handwritten notes. Not written by him of course. Someone else who
perhaps works for him. The information was too accurate to be the
result of research - no, my contact had been down here himself, he
knew too much.”

“
We suspect he was part of the group who hid the cure down
here,” added Alex. “He fled when the US set up their Camp
Washington and waited until a chance came to organise someone to go
back in his place. Saska and I seem to have been 'chosen' by
him.”

“
Doesn't that bother you?” I asked.

“
We've done all we can to protect ourselves but yes, I have to
admit that it does. It could all be a trap but I’ve never lived my
life like that. You plan for what your enemy can do, not what he
might do.”

“
Amen,” said Riley.

“
The thing that seems odd to me,” he continued, pouring
himself another coffee worthy of my own drinking habits. “Is that a
name has cropped up a lot down here. It might just be another
coincidence but now that I know a little more about you I don't
believe it is. The name Jon Francis Miller is on many of the files
in this bunker-”

“
My Father,” I said, my stomach knotting. “That was his
name.”

“
Then more pieces of the puzzle are coming
together.”

“
That would explain the notebook,” said Riley.

“
Notebook?”

“
My Father kept notebooks in our house. One of them detailed
the bunkers he'd come across in his travels. Riley spotted one that
stood out from all the others-”

“
One that he'd took a lot of pains to make sure Miller
noticed.”

“
Which?” said Alex.

“
The one we just came from.”

Alex sat back and let out a long breath. He looked tired
himself and yet there was a glimmer of excitement in his eyes that
made them sparkle in the artificial light.

“
So there's a chance he knew much more than he ever let on,”
he said. “He may have been part of this group behind the cure and
the vault. I also suspect that the DNA code for the vault might
just be his - or yours.”

“
It's possible,” I allowed, feeling a deep tension building
inside me. Had Dad planned this moment? Was there some other friend
of his thousands of miles away orchestrating this whole thing
knowing I was here, knowing that only I might be able to open the
vault? “No harm in trying.”

“
No, there certainly isn't - and I won't rest until we've done
just that. Let's go.”

The vault was down another flight of steps and the four of us
went there together. Alex switched on the lights as he went,
illuminating the long corridors that ran off in all directions like
some kind of sterile maze. It was a disorientating experience and
if I had to try to find my way out of there I didn't think I'd
stand a chance.

“
It's a big place,” I said.

“
Huge,” replied Saska. “We've looked around most of it and
it's quite empty except for furniture. There's no signs that any of
your people managed to make it here.”

“
What about those dead upstairs?” asked Riley.

“
They were probably working here at the time and there must
have been some kind of accident up there that was self-contained. I
didn't really want to find out. We came here to do a job and our
work didn't involve that floor.”

“
Fair point,” I said.

We came to a set of grey double doors closed with bolts and a
padlock that didn't look like it'd been part of the original
design.

“
We think they added this when they left,” said Alex. "We
found the key after a lot of searching, didn't we,
Saska?”

“
You did. I just watched.”

He slid back the bolts and we went inside. It was almost
disappointing to find a single steel door at the other side of a
narrow room and only a small chair broke up the monotonous walls.
There was a screen mounted on one side for the person sat in the
chair to watch, more than likely some kind of guard. Scattered
around the door was Alex's tools - wire cutters, USB devices,
hacking consoles, all strewn beneath an opening in the wall where a
white plastic terminal hung by one screw.

“
Sorry about the mess,” he said, gathering up his things and
stuffing them into a tool bag. “I'll just wire the reader back in.
I hope after all this I haven't damaged the fucking
thing.”

He took a few minutes to reconnect the terminal and Riley
went and sat in the chair, still eating a slice of toast and
sipping at her coffee. Saska folded her arms and glared at
Alex.

“
There, all done,” he said, stepping back and kicking the bag
out of the way. “It pricks your skin so you might want to use a
pinkie.”

The terminal was blinking red on the screen and I slid the
little finger of my left hand into the receptacle. There was a
sharp pin prick and the terminal began to whirr and buzz. The red
light disappeared and for a moment the screen went
blank.

“
Oh shit, you've broken it Alex!” cried Saska.

Suddenly the display turned green and the mechanism keeping
the vault door closed began to turn. Alex whooped and stood ready
to charge inside.

“
Man - weeks of work and you just came along! This is soul
destroying - but fantastic!” he cried. The door swung open and an
overhead light inside the vault flickered and buzzed into
life.

“
It's the size of a fucking tool shed,” said Riley. “How can
you call it a vault?”

She was right. It was no bigger than my larder back home yet
it was walled in plate steel and no doubt concrete behind it. There
were rows of empty shelves bolted to the walls and a few empty
packing crates on the floor. On the furthest wall I saw a CD in a
black case and a long, thin key. Alex stepped inside and picked
them up.

“
Where's the cure?” he said. “It's supposed to be here,
Saska!”

“
I-”

“
What's the disc?” I asked.

“
It's got no label. But this does look like a key of some
sort,” said Alex.

“
What kind? I’ve seen nothing like that before,” I
said.

“
It's military,” said Riley. “They use a similar type on
missile controls.”

Alex passed it to her and she put her cup down to examine it
closer. Then he began rooting through the empty boxes even though
they were still as empty as when we'd first seen them.

“
All this time and no fucking cure!” he yelled and Saska went
in to calm him down. I wedged my foot in the door until they came
back out.

“
We should try the disc,” said Saska, looking for any bit of
hope she could find. “It might tell us where it is.”

“
Have you ever thought,” began Alex, “that we're being taken
for a ride by this clown? That he probably knows there isn't a cure
and that he just wants his fucking porno back!”

“
Alex - calm down, please!” said Saska.

“
Fuck!” he roared and stormed off up the stairs. Riley
finished her last mouthful of toast and passed me the key
back.

“
The kid has anger issues,” she mumbled. "That's from his
mother's side."

“
Let's go upstairs and run the disc,” said Saska, struggling
to hide her sorrow. “It might tell us something about where the
cure has gone.”

In the lab, Saska fired up one of the computers. It was old
even by my standards, given that I saw very little technology and
it seemed to take forever to start. Eventually it became active and
the desktop image was of a family of girls - mum and three young
daughters under the age of 10 - playing in the garden on a sunny
day.

Saska took the disc and slid it into the front of the machine
and waited.

“
This could take a while,” she muttered, drumming her fingers
on the table.

“
One of the scientist's family?” asked Riley.

“
I guess so,” said Saska. “Shame. That's a pretty family. No
doubt they're dead now.”

“
Is that Russian optimism I hear?” Saska grinned.

“
I've seen much death back home. I was a trainee nurse in
Mental Health Care after I received my degree in micro biology - I
know, odd choice of a career eh? Many of the deaths were needless
suicides. It requires a lot of Russian optimism to survive such a
job.”

“
Yeah, I think I know what you mean,” replied
Riley.

The screen went blank as a video began to load. Suddenly an
image of the vault appeared from a shaky camera aiming at the door
we'd just opened and a man walked into the shot. Even though it was
over twenty years ago I recognised my Dad straight away.

“
Is that-?” said Riley.

“
Yeah, that's my Dad. He must have been about 30 there, give
or take a few years,” I said.

“
The video isn't date-stamped,” said Saska.