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.Thelights in the room were off, but there was a directionallight aimed at the container from the ceiling, illumi-nating the thing.The Fossil.The tube was fifteen feet high and at least ten indiameter, filled with a clear red liquid - and envel-oped in the fluid, attached to tubes and wires that ranthrough the top, was a monster.A nightmare.John imagined that it was called Fossil because ofwhat it looked like, at least partly some kind of adinosaur, though not one that had ever walked theEarth.The ten-foot-tall creature was some pale color,its pebbled flesh a glowing pink because of the redliquid that surrounded it.There was no tail, but it hadthe thick skin and powerful legs of a dino.It wasobviously built to walk upright, and though it had thesmall eyes and heavy, rounded snout of a carnivorousdinosaur, a T-Rex or velociraptor, it also had long,thickly muscled arms and hands with slender, grasp-ing fingers.As impossible as it was, it looked like themutant offspring of a man and a dinosaur.What were they thinking? Why - why make some-thing like this?It was asleep, or in some kind of coma, but it wasdefinitely alive.Connected to a thin hose was a small,clear mask that covered its nostril slits, and a band ofplastic was tied around its thick snout to hold thegiant jaws closed.John couldn't see them, but he hadno doubt that there were rows of pointed teeth in thecreature's wide and curving mouth.Its beady eyeswere covered by some inner eyelid, a thin layer ofpurpled skin, and they could actually see the slow riseof its thick chest, the gently bobbing motions of itsmassive body in the red goo.There was a clipboard hanging on the wall next tothe Fossil, above a small monitor screen where thingreen lines blipped silently across in fading pulses.Leon picked the clipboard up, flipping through thepages as John just stared, awed and disgusted.One ofits spidery hands twitched, the eight-inch fingerscurling into a loose fist."Says here that it's slated for autopsy in three and ahalf weeks," Leon said, scanning." 'Specimen willremain in stasis,' blah blah blah.'when it will beinjected with a lethal dose of Hyptheion prior todissection.'"John glanced back at the autopsy table, saw the folded steel leaves on either side and three bone sawstucked underneath.The table had apparently beenbuilt to accommodate larger animals."Why keep it alive at all?" John asked, turning backto the sleeping Fossil.It was hard not to look; thecreature was compelling, horrid and marvelous, anaberration that demanded attention."Maybe so the organs will be fresh," Leon said,then took a deep breath."So.do we do it?"That's the million dollar question, isn't it? We won'thave the codes - but Umbrella will have one less play-ground for their twisted science.And maybe one lessadministrator."Yeah," John said."Yeah, I think we do."The men listened to him in silence, their facesthoughtful as they absorbed the horror that hadinvaded the Planet.The invasion from above, his callfor help, how the gunmen had knocked him out afterkilling Henry Cole in cold blood.They asked noquestions, just sat and drank coffee - someone hadmade coffee - and watched him speak.No one of-fered him a cup.".and once I recovered, I came here," Restonsaid, and ran a shaking hand through his hair, wincingappropriately.He didn't have to fake the tremors."I.they're still out there, somewhere, perhaps plant-ing explosives, I don't know.but we can stop themif we work together."He could see in their blank eyes that it wasn'tworking, he wasn't inspiring them to act.He wasn'tthe best with people, but he could read them wellenough.They're not buying, work the Henry angle.Reston's shoulders slumped, a quiver creeping intohis voice."They just shot him," he said, staring downin stunned sorrow."He was begging, pleading forthem to let him live, and they - they shot him.""Where's the body?"Reston looked up, saw that Leo Yan had spoken,one of the 3Ks' two handlers.Yan had no expressionat all, leaning against the edge of the table with hisarms crossed."What?" Reston asked, looking confused but know-ing exactly what Yan was talking about.Think, dam-mit, should have thought of this already."Henry," someone else said, and Reston saw it wasTom Something-or-other, from construction.Hisgruff voice was openly skeptical."They shot him, theyknocked you out - so he's still by the cell block,right?""I.I don't know," Reston said, feeling too hot, feeling dehydrated from so much brandy.Feeling asthough he might not be able to recover from theunexpected question."Yes, he must be, unless theymoved him for some reason.I woke up confused,dizzy, I wanted to get to you immediately, to makesure none of you had been injured.I didn't see if hewas still there."They stared at him, a sea of rough faces that wereno longer so neutral.Reston saw disbelief and disre-spect, anger and in the eyes of one or two, he sawwhat might have been hatred.Why, what have I done to inspire such contempt? I'mtheir manager, their employer, I pay their goddamnwages.One of the mechanics stood up from the table andaddressed the rest of them, ignoring Reston com-pletely.It was Nick Frewer, the one who seemed themost popular among the men."Who says we get outta here?" Nick said."Tommy,you got the keys for the truck?"Tom nodded."Sure, but not for the gate or thestorage shed.""I got those," said Ken Carson, the cook.He stoodup, too, and then most were standing, stretching andyawning, draining their cups.Nick nodded."Good.Everyone go pack up, be atthe elevator in five.""Wait!" Reston said, unable to believe what he washearing, that they would walk away from their moralduty, from their obligations.That they could ignorehim."There are more on the surface, they'll kill you!You have to help me!"Nick turned and looked at him, his gaze calm andinsufferably patronizing."Mr.Reston, we don't haveto do anything.I don't know what's really going on,but I believe you're a liar - and I may not speak foreveryone, but I know I'm not getting paid enough tobe your bodyguard."He smiled suddenly, his blue eyes sparkling."Be-sides which, they're not after us."Nick turned and walked away, and Reston brieflyconsidered shooting him - but he only had six bulletsand no doubts that the men would turn on him if heinjured one of their working-class pack [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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