“And I’m Dr. Angie Pflaug. My work is research into neural-directed laser personalized missiles for low-intensity termination of selected targets.”
“I’m Jak Lauren, and I fuck pigs,” the boy said with a low bow.
His words set them on another dreadful fit of giggles, piercing shrieks of laughter that grew louder and increasingly shrill. They held on to each other for support, eyes squeezed shut, tears flowing over their smooth cheeks. At the first meeting, Ryan had thought these two might have been the only normal scientists in the complex, but as the laughter went on, scraping at his ears, he realized they were just as weird as the others.
“What’s that smell of?” Krysty began, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “Oh, Gaia!”
Ryan looked where she was staring and exhaled a sigh of revulsion. The laughter had affected the two young women to such an extent that both had lost all control of bladder and bowels. Their legs were streaked with the vivid evidence of their joint failure. Without another word, they tottered away down the corridor, leaving the mute sec men to put the clothes down and mop methodically at the mess they’d left behind.
Ryan, Krysty and Jak waited a while, then moved away in a different direction.
Later, when they met up for their last meal of the day, they all had similar tales of the complex’s strange menagerie of scientists. The clocks showed that it was around C in the green. The food was identical with the middle meal, but there seemed to be less of it.
Finnegan tucked into it with such eagerness that he managed to snap the bowl off his plastic spoon, leaving a jagged end. He held it up silently for the others to examine. Ryan shook his head.
“Too weak, Finn, I guess.”
“Better’n fucking nothing,” the portly blaster replied.
“Give it here.” Finn passed Ryan the broken spoon. “Look.”
He drove the broken end into his own arm, against the soft material of the coveralls. The plastic was so brittle that it splintered again, doing no damage at all.
“Anyone lend me their fucking spoon when they’ve finished eating?” Finnegan said, grinning.
JUST BEFORE GREEN D , the door of their quarters hissed open and in toddled Dr. Ethel Tardy, accompanied by a limping man with an artificial plas-limb where his right arm should have been. They were accompanied by four mutie sec men, holding their laser guns at the high port.
“May Central be with you,” the diminutive woman scientist said.
“Hi, there,” Ryan said, staying seated on his narrow bed.
“You have seen what you wished, visitwise?” she asked. “Monitoring reveals you have.”
“We’ve been allowed to see what you wanted us to see. Not anything else.”
Doc backed up Ryan. “Why can we not have unlimited access to all aspects of Project Eurydice? What is there for you to hide?”
The cherubic smile vanished, and the woman frowned. “Visiting personnel take care. Imperative cooperation with us or” The sentence dangled between them unfinished, the threat as clear as a knife blade.
“What do you want, Dr. Tardy?” Krysty Wroth asked, trying to ease over the difficult moment.
“It is time for questioning. To find out about the rest of you.”
“Why do you say ‘the rest of us’? What do you know?” Ryan asked.
The smile came flickering back, hanging on the soft little cheeks, never reaching the pale eyes. “We know about Dr. Tanner. He is someone but that is not for you. Only Grades Delta and above. But we wish to know more about the rest of you. Him first.” She pointed a stubby finger at Jak. “He will come with us.”
“What for?” Ryan asked, finally standing. He noticed the way the muzzles of the laser blasters swung toward him.
“We make decisions, stranger.” The smile had gone again, fast as the dew off a summer lawn. “There are all blood tests. Encephs. Bone marrow scrapings. Sight and hearing. The usual for strangers on Wizard Island.”
“Don’t like the sound of that,” the albino said, poised on the balls of his feet, hands hanging loose, his body relaxed, ready for action.
“Me, neither,” J,B. said, rising.