The elevator doors opened, and his driver emerged with the pale woman named Annabeth. She leaned on the man’s arm slightly for support. Although physically weak, she didn’t appear to be under the influence of any sedatives today. Aboud was about to launch into his routine greeting, but she forestalled him.
“Oh, hello.” Her face brightened with recognition. “You’re the doctor who came to visit me.”
“Hello, Annabeth.” He nodded gravely. What was the protocol under such circumstances? Saying “nice to see you again” seemed ludicrous.
She left the driver behind and walked straight up to Aboud. With a searching look, she asked, “Are we going to see my son now?”
He hesitated, temporarily baffled by her awkward question. Obviously, his standard explanation about an inhaled vaccine wouldn’t work. He decided that his best strategy would be to encourage her delusion. “Soon,” he demurred. “We need to run some tests on you and make preparations first.”
“Oh, of course.” She didn’t seem at all curious as to why medical tests would be required as a prelude to a family reunion. Instead, she leaned in close to his ear and whispered confidentially, “The lady angel came to me again after I saw you last. When I asked if you were the one who would bring me to my son, she said ‘yes.’ I was so happy to hear the news.”
“I see.” Aboud’s face showed no reaction. “This way.”
He dismissed the chauffeur and then led her through the decontamination chamber to an adjoining test area. It was an austere room kept deliberately bare to allow for easy disinfection between occupants. One of the walls was paneled entirely in glass so laboratory personnel could observe the progress of the disease from a safe vantage point. There was a drain in the middle of the floor to wash away the effluvia which the test subjects invariably left behind. The sole piece of furniture was a plastic chair bolted to the floor. Its arm rests and front legs were fitted with restraint straps.
Annabeth seemed oblivious to the forbidding atmosphere. She followed willingly enough. Aboud sat her down in the chair and applied a blood pressure cuff. He noted that the reading was normal. He then checked her heart rate and temperature and recorded the results on a clipboard chart.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked, realizing the absurdity of the question given what she was about to undergo.
“Oh, yes. Thank you very much,” she replied politely, almost as if he’d just handed her a cup of tea at an afternoon garden party.
“I’m going to leave you for a few moments. I need to put on a special suit. It will completely cover my face and body. I don’t want you to be alarmed when you see me again.”
“I won’t be,” she said matter-of-factly. “My lady angel told me not to be afraid.”
***
Aboud went into the decontamination chamber to don his protective outfit. This consisted of a hazmat coverall with helmet, portable breathing apparatus, and nitrile gloves. Every square inch of his body had to be shielded from accidental exposure to the deadly bacteria.
After that, the doctor returned to the room where Annabeth waited. Usually, test subjects found his attire offputting. He liked to pause a few moments to allow their anxiety to subside before he applied the restraints. However, Annabeth’s reaction to his apparel ran contrary to anything he’d ever experienced before.
She clapped her hands in delight. “You’re dressed all in white!”
He nodded uncertainly.
“Just like an angel.” She giggled.
He offered no remark but set about securing the ankle restraints and then the wrist straps. When he was finished, he explained, “We use these bindings to keep you still. It’s important that you not move while we’re conducting our medical testing.” His voice sounded muffled through his helmet, but she understood him. As a final measure, he attached a small device to her index finger.
She examined it with mild interest. “It looks like a giant clothes pin.”
“This is called a pulse oxymeter. It will monitor your heart beat and the oxygen level in your bloodstream. The signal from the oxymeter is transmitted wirelessly to a console outside the room.”
His explanation was lost on her. “Oh,” she said, her eyes wandering around the bare space.
Aboud shook his head in bewilderment. She was quite unlike any of the others. Usually, even the most stolid test subjects began to show some level of apprehension once the restraints were fastened. Their initial dread was nothing compared to their fear several hours into the test when they began to feel the bacteria eating through their lungs. Fear turned to horror once they discovered that their cries for help would go unanswered. Lab personnel watched them from the other side of the glass. The technicians’ faces showed no trace of sympathy as they recorded the remorseless progress of the disease. Eventually, the victims could spare no more breath for crying or pleading. In the final stages of consciousness, they were coughing up blood, racked with pain and struggling to inhale. Shortly before they went into respiratory shock, they all realized the grim truth. They’d been immobilized and sealed inside this room, and they were dying. Nobody was going to come to their aid. Ever.
Annabeth remained blissfully unaware of her fate as Aboud reached for the gas cylinder which had been placed unobtrusively in the corner of the room by one of his assistants. It was attached to a thin hose which fed into a plastic mask that covered the test subject’s nose and mouth. The mask was held in place by an elastic strap that ran around the back of the head. Delivering the gas via canister allowed Aboud to measure the exact quantity which had been dispensed and how long it would take for that precise dosage to produce its desired lethal effect.
He placed the elastic strap behind Annabeth’s head. She gazed up at him trustingly as he covered her
