Page 34 of Resolution
“Dr. Ybidliuz’s lab,” said the one on her left. “He’s ready to add you to the protocol today. Or at least that’s what my orders said. We’re to give you a tour first though.”
“What kind of a tour?” Melly tried to keep her voice from trembling.
“We’ll be taking a detour here,” the guard answered, opening a door which gave entry to a short hall connecting with one of the other wings of the complex.
She shrank from his touch as she heard screams and moans ahead. “What’s in here?”
“You’ll see.” The guards derived considerable amusement from the situation as they prodded her to keep walking.
Melly had no desire to see what lay ahead, fearing the worst, but she squared her shoulders and tried to brace herself mentally. She was a doctor after all and if the only thing she could do for her fellow prisoners was to be a witness to their suffering, she’d try to commit the details to memory. She and her escort entered a long hall lined by observation windows, behind which humans in various stages of the Western Flu were imprisoned in tiny cells with only a slab for a bed and a rudimentary sink and toilet.
Aghast, she couldn’t avert her eyes from the windows as she passed. The first few rooms were quiet, the people inside lying miserably on the hard beds, plainly in the grip of the fever. All the sounds were coming from the cells ahead and when she reached that area, she had to work hard not to throw up, even though she’d had no breakfast. These people had turned into the undead predators she was familiar with, and slammed themselves against the glass as she passed, desperate to get to her and the guards. Their expressions and the sounds they made were chilling. As she walked, Melly began to see differences in these infected, as opposed to the ones she’d been running from and battling since she landed on Randal Four. A few appeared to have retained some level of awareness and consciousness and had sly expressions on their faces as they watched her. One woman beckoned to her with a ghastly smile revealing rotted teeth. Her milky eyes glowed as she stared at Melly and made crooning noises behind the glass.
Several had turned into Watchers and these infected made no attempt to reach her but their cold, fixed gaze on her as she was escorted by the taciturn guards sent shivers up and down her spine.
Melly was relieved but saddened for the innocent victims of the alien ‘science’ when the guards led her out of that portion of the lab but now the hall passed through the enclosure where the aliens were keeping a swarm of infected, for what purpose she didn’t want to know. The infected had been standing motionless but as soon as they became aware of her walking through the fully enclosed passageway, the predators launched themselves at the windows. The glass was an unbreakable substance but vibrated under the impacts of so many infected and black ichor spattered as smaller members of the swarm were trampled and mauled by the bigger ones.
“Why does he want me to see all this?” she asked the guards, raising her voice over the cacophony of sounds the infected all around them were making. “I can’t help any of them and he knows it. Our medicine is totally ineffective against the virus he cooked up here.”
“He wanted you to get the overall picture,” Dr. Mercattor said from where she stood at the end of the hall. “To see the brilliance of the Khagrish science and to realize the inevitable outcome, as well as the futility of resisting. Dr. Ybidliuz hopes you’ll be a willing participant in his further studies.”
“I’d rather die,” Melly said, realizing she sounded melodramatic but expressing her true sentiment. The macabre situation called for such over the top declarations. “I’m not going to willingly help him destroy any more innocent people. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Mercattor shrugged. “It’s obvious the Khagrish are the winning side and I want to be alive when all this ends. Paul and I have plans for our future once we can leave Randal Four and we’ll be able to do whatever we want, thanks to the credits we’re being paid by the Khagrish to co-operate. And I’ll be able to set up my own lab and use what I’ve learned from the Khagrish to do amazing science. The future is wide open and full of possibilities.”
“Not for those poor souls back there,” Melly said, gesturing at the building she’d just left. “Or any of the millions of dead all over the planet. Or the survivors trying to stay alive and fight back.” She bit her lip, not wanting to be drawn by her anger into saying too much about those survivors.
They walked with the guards in silence into the laboratory wing and entered a large room filled with gleaming, alien technology. It all looked menacing to Melly and she rubbed her arms as goose bumps arose. The room was quite chilly. In the center of the room was a metal table with restraints and bright lights shone on the spot.
A lab tech approached them. “I’ve got her now, Dr. Mercattor. If you’ll take your customary position, Dr. Ybidliuz will be here in a few minutes. I have to prep the subject for her tests today.” He took Melly by the elbow and she wrenched herself free.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, trying to sound as brave as she possibly could.
“It’ll go better if you co-operate,” Dr. Mercattor said as she moved away toward a stool on the far side of the exam table. “Dr. Ybidliuz can be quite stingy with the pain alleviators so I’d advise you not to irritate him.”
“When you’re the one under the scanners, you can do as you please,” Melly said. “Don’t presume to offer me advice.” Addressing the lab tech, she added, “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Undress and lie on the table.” His tone made it apparent he felt the requirements were obvious.
Melly glanced around. “Where’s the changing room and where’s my gown?”
Mouth agape, he acted as if she’d stopped speaking Basic.
“I’m not undressing in front of you and I’m not lying naked on that damn table.”
Swallowing hard, the tech hurried to a cabinet and pulled out a sheet, which he handed her. “This is the best I can do. You can take your clothes off over there, in the far corner. We don’t usually allow subjects to wear anything.”
“The good doctor can have her petty demands,” Dr. Ybidliuz said as he walked in. “As long as she co-operates on the important tasks at hand today.”
Melly grabbed the sheet and retreated to the designated corner, which offered partial privacy behind a desk and a big ungainly piece of equipment. She was determined to resist as best she could and to make them deal with her as a person, not a ‘subject’. When she was ready, she gathered the sheet fabric around her and padded barefoot to the table. The lab tech moved as if to help her climb onto the surface and she gave him such a venomous glance he froze in midstep.
Once she was seated on the table, she said, “I want it to be recorded I’m here under duress and have not given my consent for any procedure, test or other activity you may wish to perform. I demand you let me go and leave this facility.”
Ybidliuz chuckled. “I admire your attitude, as long as it doesn’t interfere with what I need to get done today. There’s not going to be a war crimes commission to take note of your protest, my dear.”
“I want us all to be clear I’m not a willing collaborator, unlike Dr. Mercattor here.”
“I think we’ve got your objections duly noted.” The scientist indicated for her to lie down, which she did, the metal table cold against her back. The lab tech adjusted the lights and the Khagrish scientist took a moment to consult his notes. “I was able to finish another protocol a day early,” he said conversationally over his shoulder. “I’m eager to get started on the first experiment designed to probe and test your unusual genetic inclusions.”
