Oscar walked into Rudy's office that evening. The first shift lab staff, which comprised the great majority of employees here, had just left for home, and the building was quiet. Rudy, at his desk, looked up from some paperwork.
"What a day," Oscar said. He dropped into the chair in front of the desk. "How's Steve?" Oscar had looked in on him four times today himself, but he still wanted the professional evaluation.
"The blood work is starting to improve," Rudy said. "His fever still hasn't broken, but I'm hoping that some more rest will do the trick with this virus and he'll start getting better by tomorrow. He's been asleep most of the day, and he ought to get some actual rest tonight."
Oscar smiled. "He's been asleep every time I looked in on him today after this morning, which I'm sure wasn't by choice. Good."
"No, hardly by choice. I've got him right where I want him at the moment on the sedatives. You can wake him up if you really try, but it takes a good bit of effort. He's definitely not going to be taking the initiative to go tracking Blankenship throughout the building again." Rudy shook his head. "Although I still don't know how he managed it even unsedated this morning. He really didn't have the strength for that. He could hardly walk coming back."
"Sure you didn't install some bionic stubbornness in one of your operations?" Oscar asked.
"I've wondered at times. What he really needs now is rest, and he's finally getting it. I've woken him up a couple of times through the day; he's still totally locked on Blankenship, but he isn't able to do much about it. Tried to get him to eat a little bit at lunch, but he hasn't got any appetite. He's mad at both of us, by the way."
"I figured that," Oscar replied. "He'll get over it. In fact, I'll bet he'll be laughing about all this with us in another week." That was a bet that he was to remember - and regret - making with himself well before another week.
"I know," Rudy said. "But it was tough having to listen to him say how he thought he ought to have earned our trust by now. I tried to explain again that trust wasn't the issue here, but we had to have that exact same conversation whenever he was awake. Blankenship wasn't upset by him this morning, was he?"
"No, he was totally understanding, thank goodness. Steve was so obviously sick; anybody could tell that now, even if they didn't know him. I was just afraid he was going to start talking about his bionic eye before you could arrive and get him out of there. He was staring at Blankenship like he was green or something. Or I guess like he was a neon sign."
"How's the work going with Blankenship?"
"Today was mostly just settling in, getting to know the facility, meeting people he'll be working with. He hasn't really started digging into things yet, but I'm sure he will tomorrow. He also decided that he'd rather rent a car for himself than be driven around everywhere, and he went out at lunch to do that. Said he'd enjoy some sightseeing around Washington this weekend."
"Well, I'm glad he's enjoying himself." Rudy stood up. "I've been looking in on Steve every hour, even though he's stable now and isn't going anywhere. And there will be someone around all night, too, although everybody has orders to try to leave him alone and not disturb him."
"I stuck my nose in just a few minutes ago on the way to your office. He was sound asleep." Oscar stood up himself. "I need to talk to Reynolds about something in his section. You want to go out to dinner after that?"
Rudy shook his head. "Think I'll hang around here for a while tonight. Lots of paperwork to catch up on."
Oscar gave an understanding nod. "I'll bet. I might work on my own for a few more hours after I see Reynolds."
They parted at the door to the office, Oscar going right down the hall and Rudy left. The larger room was mostly deserted now, although he startled Carla coming out. "I thought you'd already left," Rudy said.
She looked back toward Steve's room. "I - I will in a few minutes. Just forgot something."
"Anderson is staying for this evening for the first stretch, then a replacement at 2:00. Steve won't be here alone. Somebody will keep checking on him regularly, but he should just be sleeping all night."
"I know." She smiled at Rudy. "I think I left something in my desk. I'll be gone myself in a few more minutes." She went on out the door, and Rudy walked across the larger room. He peered through the half-turned blinds at the window at first, then opened the door to the observation room and stood there just inside watching Steve, counting breaths. He didn't go clear up to him, not this time, though he'd run another set of vitals before he really left for the night. Steve still looked flushed and ill, even through sleep. Rudy ran mentally through every test he had run so far, but he really had ruled out all other causes. This was just a virus, and with rest, backed up by some IV supplementation, Steve would get better. Hopefully tomorrow would see the turnaround.
Finally, he turned around to go back to his paperwork himself. Lost in thought, he missed seeing Dr. Blankenship, who was standing at the door to the larger room watching him and who ducked quickly back out of sight as Rudy turned. By the time Rudy reached the hall, it was quiet and empty.
(SMDM)
Dr. Neborra studied the screen in satisfaction. This morning, Neborra had given the robot instructions to follow Goldman at a distance after the tour was over. He had hoped that Goldman, once free, would head straight over to check on Austin, and sure enough, the man had taken off with a purposeful stride, definitely heading directly for some specific destination, and after a few minutes' walk, he had turned into the door of an area that hadn't been anywhere on their tour. Neborra had marked the door for future reference. Hopefully Austin was in there, now so conveniently sedated by Goldman's own orders. Still, they wouldn't keep him sedated any longer than he was feverish and presumably delirious, and Neborra couldn't risk him actually improving. He had looked sick enough that Neborra thought they were safe for the rest of this day, but he had no intentions of letting things drag out past tonight.
So the robot at lunch had gone out to rent a car and then had gone shopping for Neborra's own chemical list. All was prepared now, and as soon as people went home and the traffic in the lab this evening lightened up, the robot would go back to that door and search that area for wherever they were keeping Austin.
It worked out even more perfectly than Neborra could have asked, because the robot almost immediately in searching that section had run into Rudy Wells. Wells was standing in the door of a little room off a bigger one, absolutely lost in thought, and he didn't spot the robot move back as he turned around. Once Wells had left the large room and headed on down the hall, the robot turned into that door. He crossed the big room, opened the door to the secondary one, and there was Austin. Neborra let out a soft hiss of anticipation. Yes, there was his helpless prey. Austin was deeply, artificially asleep. He'd never know what hit him. One shot, and he would worsen steadily over the next few hours and be dead by morning. The robot, following the transmitted commands from his maker, stepped forward, reaching into his jacket pocket for the prepared syringe.
(SMDM)
The pain woke him, reaching through the clouds of drug- and fever-induced fog in his mind, pulling him back to the surface. Steve shifted, trying to escape the painful pressure on his right side, and the pressure followed. With an effort, he finally pried his eyes open.
He hadn't thought it was possible to feel worse than he had earlier, but he did. The whole world also now had a vague shimmery effect; here was the general fever-induced eye misfocusing that everybody had been trying to blame his earlier observations on. Nothing looked quite right.
That had nothing to do with the very specific, individual effect, though. Blankenship was standing at Steve's right side, and he was outlined in bright pulsing neon, just as before. He was bending over Steve's right arm, applying his weight in some effort, throwing his body into it, and as he did, his elbow was pushing directly into Steve's bruised ribs. It was this that had woken Steve up. Steve blinked in disbelief, wondering what on earth Blankenship was doing here, trying to get his mind to work faster. He could feel the effects of whatever Rudy had given him, weighing him down, slowing thought processes that he badly needed at the moment.
With a last push, Blankenship finally managed to do whatever he was trying with Steve's right arm, and then he straightened back up, and Steve saw the needle as Blankenship removed it from his arm.
A needle. Blankenship had given him a shot in his right arm.
This wasn't an eye malfunction. This was an outright attack. More than ever, Steve was sure that the other man was plotting something against OSI, and now he was trying to eliminate Steve, the only one who was drawing attention to him.
Blankenship put the empty syringe into his jacket pocket, turned, and headed for the door of the little room. With a tremendous effort, anger and adrenaline combined to overcome the sedative for the moment, and Steve launched himself clear off the bed and landed on the other man's back just as he opened the door.
Blankenship was caught completely by surprise and went down, but he was already trying to roll as he landed, turning to grapple with his assailant. They more or less fell through the door as the struggle progressed, Steve desperately trying to regain the advantage he had lost. Blankenship was incredibly strong, and he was putting up a good fight. Calling on every ounce he had and getting some response even through the illness from the bionics, Steve managed to regain the upper position. Blankenship bucked like a bronco as Steve fought to pin him down, to hold him there, right arm pushing against him with everything Steve could summon at the moment as his left arm reached for that pocket. The syringe. He had to get the syringe, had to get proof.
Voices were becoming audible as if at a distance, down a long tunnel. Steve recognized Oscar's voice and Rudy's, but he didn't turn to them, not just yet. They didn't believe him; that was already established. More talking wouldn't accomplish anything. He had to get proof, and Blankenship had it in his pocket in the form of that syringe. His friends wouldn't listen to him without proof. There were other hands on him now, but Blankenship was still struggling beneath him, and Steve tuned everything else out. Only Blankenship and the hidden syringe were his focus right now.
Suddenly, there was a sharp prick at the side of his neck, an attack from another needle. Steve finally let up a bit on his efforts against Blankenship to turn toward the new assailant, but the world was already shifting out of focus, gray clouds blowing in across his vision. He made one last, convulsive, failing grab for Blankenship's jacket pocket, and then he lost consciousness.