‘That’s true. But the main thing is, he’s safe now.’
Richard stared straight ahead.
Stafford looked at the wall too. ‘Don’t think we’ll have too many whackos coming out here to protest, somehow.’
‘You don’t think all this security’s overkill?’
‘Jeez, Richard, I know you academic types sometimes don’t see the big picture, but for crying out loud. We’re going to be dealing with Level 4, Category A here. You could take out half the country with what we’ll have inside.’
‘But no animals?’
‘Nothing with a tail, paws or fur. You made your case, Richard. And I for one agree with you. What we were doing was bad science. Which made it bad business.’
The boat pulled in at one of the piers and tied up. Stafford clambered off. He stretched out a hand to Richard, who in turn helped Josh on to dry land.
They followed Stafford along a walkway and up on to a concrete apron, Josh struggling to keep up with Stafford’s long strides. They then walked along to the very end of the wall and turned left.
Stafford glanced over his shoulder at Richard. ‘Not far to go now. I thought the river approach was a better idea. Give you more of an idea of the size of the place.’
Four hundred yards further up, the wall was split by a driveway big enough to accommodate trucks passing either side with a metal drop-in booth manned by a middle-aged African American man dressed in a Meditech security uniform. They stopped at the booth and Stafford presented his laminated Meditech card. Richard followed suit. The guard checked them without saying a word, then matched their name against the visitors list.
‘Could you folks look up for me, please?’ he said, pointing to a spot behind him.
They did so, and there was a flash from a fixed point on the wall where a camera had been mounted.
The guard looked at a computer screen. ‘That’s fine, you can go through now.’
‘Facial recognition software,’ Stafford said, marching on through.
‘The security here’s like Fort Knox,’ Richard said.
‘Not like,’ said Stafford. ‘Better.’
Once through the gate they passed through a guardhouse manned by two guards, both armed. It was wide enough to obscure the view of the area behind it from anyone standing at the first checkpoint. They ran through the same rigmarole and stepped through into the body of the compound where Missy was waiting for them, stomping her feet to keep them from freezing but otherwise as perky as ever.
‘Hey, Josh, let me show you where you’re staying,’ she chirped.
Stafford had, apparently, drafted her in as unofficial childcare.
They passed a series of single-storey white buildings, notable only for their uniformity. The sheer scale of the place was impressive, especially so close to the city.
Josh didn’t release the grip on his father’s hand.
‘We’ve got a Christmas tree for you and everything,’ Missy said.
‘It’s OK, Josh,’ Richard reassured his son, ‘you can go with her. I’ll catch you up in a few minutes.’
Reluctantly, Josh let go of his father’s hand and Missy led him away. Richard watched them go.
‘This couldn’t have waited until after the holidays?’
‘Richard, we’re on a deadline here. We wait, we lose our competitive advantage.’ Stafford slapped Richard on the back. ‘Listen, the trial goes well and you can have three months’ paid vacation. Hell, I might even come with you. Now, let me show you the research lab first. I think you’re going to be pretty blown away.’
Stafford turned left, but Richard stayed where he was. His attention had been drawn to an area maybe two hundred feet away. A building the same as the others, it was surrounded by chain-link topped with razor wire. ‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘It’s an accommodation block. Don’t worry, you won’t have to go anywhere near it if you don’t want to.’
‘What are we accommodating?’
‘The test subjects.’
‘You lied to me.’
‘Semantics, Richard. That’s all.’
‘And there’s something else,’ said Richard. He hadn’t even thought of it until now. It was something that Lock had said to him back in his apartment that only now floated to the surface. Something about the presence of the abnormal, and the absence of the normal. The razor wire landed in the abnormal column, but there was something else about the place that was off. ‘I’ve been here five minutes and the only people I’ve seen are guards. Where are the technicians?’
‘We’re running a skeleton staff through this phase.’
‘So why do you even need me here for this?’
‘Because you have to sign off on the data. Your name means a lot to the Food and Drug Administration, not to mention the Department of Defense.’
‘So do it and send me the clinical results. I can make a judgement based on-’
Stafford cut him off by grabbing his arm and squeezing hard. It hurt. ‘We don’t have room for any more ethical dilemmas, even after the trials have taken place. That’s why we’d prefer it if you were as hands-on as possible.’
Richard felt a low terror start to form at the bottom of his stomach. ‘So these test subjects. What are they exactly?’
‘Think of them as higher-level primates.’
Forty-four
A fierce crosswind buffeted the Gulfstream as it began its final approach towards the airstrip, visibility severely hampered by the fierce rain which slammed into the side of the aircraft. The ski masks worn by the pilot and co-pilot didn’t help either. Neither man knew the other’s name, or who he worked for. The same held for the other eight members of the crew.
In the cabin, the plush leather seats, usually used to cushion the already well-upholstered buttocks of senior executives, had been replaced with six gurneys. On each gurney lay a person. Six in total. Five men and a woman.
Their heads were hooded, a slit cut in the cloth two thirds of the way down to allow breathing. Their hands were cuffed, each cuff attached to a welded bracket either side of the gurney. Their feet were similarly secured. Their clothes consisted of bright red T-shirts and pants. Underneath their pants they wore adult diapers. None of them had been unshackled during the flight for a trip to the bathroom.
Not that they had much interest in moving anyway. Before departure they’d each been injected with an amount of Haldol, a powerful anti-psychotic. Pills could be slipped under the tongue or spat out, so intravenous delivery was deemed the most effective way to ensure that the drugs made it into their system.
Mareta Yuzik, thick-tongued and groggy, opened her eyes to darkness. For a moment she wondered if she’d been blinded. Then she remembered the hood. She could feel the fabric of it against her face. She smiled with relief.
There was a searing pain in her left side. She tried to reach a hand down to touch where it was tender but her hand wouldn’t move. The tightness around her wrists and ankles told her that she was shackled.
Not blind, only hooded. Not paralysed, merely shackled. And, miraculously, she could hear. Over the past few weeks, when she’d been moved from one location to another ear defenders had been placed on her head so she could only sense the loudest of noises, more through vibration than anything else. Being able to hear meant that she knew she was on an aircraft. It also meant she could hear the guards, even over the sound of the engines. She recognized their accents from the movies. They were American. She could hear two of them talking.
‘Man, it’s good to be home.’
‘How long of a layover you have?’
‘Week, maybe. Depends on how this goes. You?’
