-- Tuesday --
I look through the thick glass at my pair of kepts and try not to worry, try to remain clinically detached, but it is so very difficult. It's been almost fifteen hours since we retrieved them from that abandoned building. They are still unconscious. It was necessary at the time and made it easier to run the tests that they would not have enjoyed going through while awake. Originally they were supposed to be separated, like the other six men, but I overrode that order. Neither of them is going to enjoy the accommodations when they wake up, and I'm hoping that being together will ease the stress of being confined. The walls and floor are steel -- easy to clean if contaminated. There's a small but complete bathroom, plus changes of clothing and other linens, which will be destroyed when this is all over. Food will be supplied from the outside, though there is a separate filtered faucet for drinking water.
They are sleeping off the last of the sedatives on the plain beds in the room. Darien just barely fits on his, while Alyx is huddled in a small ball on hers. She's been shaking and shivering for the last several hours as she fights the drugs. She's never handled long-term induced unconsciousness well, and since she adapts to the drugs fairly quickly, she's been doped up at a level that would keep the average person out for a week. Even unconscious she is stubborn. A good thing, I realize -- she's going to need that stubborn streak to deal with what I fear will be coming.
Both of them have been contaminated with the biologic in that case. That unknown biologic. With the recipient dead, we've been unable to do more than seal the damage to the case and leave it attached to Alyx's wrist. Near as they can tell, the self-destruct is still functional, so without the proper code there is, as yet, no safe way to remove it. The Official, Eberts, and Bobby are trying to track down exactly what was being transported so that we can, hopefully, find a cure before it does too much damage. Two of the six men who had been trying to steal the case are already showing flu-like symptoms and the rest, along with Darien and Alyx, have tested positive for exposure. The virus is running through their bloodstreams and doing what it was programmed to do. Kill.
I can only thank god Alyx was wise enough to realize the danger and quarantine everyone in that building until help arrived. No one knew exactly how it was spread, though it appears to have been a short-term airborne that dissipated quickly. No residue was found in the building or on their clothes after the first hour. If it is as deadly as we think it will be, then it would make an interesting assassination weapon. Expose the target, and by the time they fall ill, twelve to twenty-four hours later, the residue would have dissipated. And since it resembles a common illness, no one would suspect a thing without detailed tests. But we are taking no risks -- it could very well be contagious person-to-person, and until we knew for sure they all have to remain quarantined.
I hear the door behind me open and feel a warm presence by my side a moment later. Poor Bobby has been worried sick and pulling out what's left of his hair in frustration. He'd been quarantined for six hours until we were sure he'd not been exposed, and then he went right to work trying to track down not only what they'd been transporting, but how to get that cuff off of Alyx without activating the self-destruct. He has apparently been meeting stone wall after stone wall. The original source is even denying anything about the delivery, much to the Official's irritation.
"How they doing, Keepy?"
I turn away from the window to examine the Bobby's worried countenance. I knew he would trade places with either of them in a heartbeat. It is one of those things that make Bobby -- Bobby. "So far so good. They should be waking up soon."
As if in response to my words, Darien groans and sits up to hold his head in his hands. It's a good bet he has a headache from all the sedatives. Probably similar to a hangover. Bobby sighs in obvious relief to see Darien up and moving. Staggering, actually, as he gets off the bed and makes his shaky way to the bathroom. When he reappears a few minutes later, he's looking a bit pale and his hair is damp. He's wearing a pair of scrub pants and a t-shirt, supplied by the secure lab we're at. I hope he was not overly attached to the clothes he had been wearing, seeing as they are now nothing more than a pile of ashes.
He looks about the dimly lit room blindly for a few minutes, as if trying to figure out where he is. His eyes lock onto the mirror that I am standing behind and then he turns his head to see the small form of Alyx lying on the other bed. Pushing away from the doorframe, he glares at the glass -- I swear he's looking right at me -- and goes to Alyx. Shifting her, he sits at the head of the bed with her sprawled across his lap. As I hoped, giving him something to focus on besides being confined is keeping him reasonably calm. I can see he's worried, though. His fingers run along her face and through her hair as he talks quietly to her. She's still shaking in reaction, and will until she regains consciousness. After about fifteen minutes of silence, he speaks up.
"Keep? Claire, are you there?"
I flip on the mic and answer him. "I'm here Darien. What do you need?"
"Is... Is she all right?" he asks turning to face the mirror.
"Just drugged. She should be waking up soon." He relaxes somewhat at my words, but it's obvious he's still worried. "How are you feeling? Hungry?"
Darien makes a face. "Not now. Maybe after the hangover is done killing me." He looks down at Alyx and then tips his head back against the wall. "How long were we out? Is Hobbes okay?"
Bobby leans over the mic. "Just fine, Fawkes, thanks to you and the kid. A little poking and prodding and they turned me loose."
Bobby's words seem to help and some of the worry leaves Darien's posture. "Darien, it's midmorning Tuesday. So far, you and Alyx are okay."
"But? I hear that 'but' in your voice, Keepy. What about those other guys? How are they?" He looks so very resigned, like he's already come to terms with the idea that he's going to die. Which he isn't, not if I can help it.
"Two are ill, and it's just a matter of time with the others. You and Alyx are a bit more resistant for some reason." He just slumps down a bit and reaches out for Alyx's free hand to hold. "It's a flu-like virus. Similar symptoms, but resistant to the usual drugs."
"Arnaud again?" Darien sounds exasperated.
"Nah, those mooks have nothing to do with the Swiss Miss Mother, but they also haven't told us who they do work for, and aren't likely to in the near future. They were after the package and nothing else," Bobby answers. The mention of Arnaud gives me an idea as to why Darien might be resistant to the virus. I'm going to have to run some more tests, and soon.
"When can we get out of here?"
"It may be a while Darien. I'm sorry, but if there's any chance this is contagious...." I trail off as he closes his eyes and tips his head down. "Rest for a bit. Someone will be in once Alyx wakes up, to draw some more blood samples. Just call if you need anything." He nods and I turn off the mic before closing my eyes and leaning forward against the glass.
"You need to get some sleep, Claire," Bobby says as his hands come to rest on my shoulders.
"After. After I've done everything I can to save them," I answer as I allow myself to enjoy his touch for a moment. His fingers are moving gently, trying to ease the tension in my neck and shoulders. "Any luck on your end?"
"Not enough." He sounds angry and tired himself, but his hands don't stop, even when the door opens and one of the doctors helping hands me a file.
Opening it, I'm not in the least surprised at the data before me. All six are showing symptoms now, and one of the first to fall ill has lapsed into a coma due to a high fever. "Damn," I whisper.
"Bad, Keep?"
"Yes, but I have an idea of where to start."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was nearly evening before Alyx began to show signs of consciousness, and by then even the docs were getting worried. They'd both had blood drawn twice more -- his arms ached from all the holes he was now sporting -- but Alyx had slept through it all. Claire had convinced him to eat a few hours ago; the food was unexciting, but did well enough to fill the grumbling hole his stomach had become. He was not thrilled at the HAZMAT-type suits the guys came in wearing -- made him feel like a plague carrier or something. With the exception of a leftover headache from all the drugs, he was feeling pretty good. The shower had helped get rid of the worst of it.
He'd been getting more than a little bored and had requested books, a TV -- heck, a newspaper -- anything to keep his mind off of where they were, why they were here, or the fact that Alyx still had not woken up. But now she was muttering under her breath and shifting slightly.
"Hey sleepy-head, you gonna wake up?" He sat down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand up and down her arm, hoping it might help her reconnect. When Claire said they'd given her a high dose of sedative, she hadn't been kidding. Alyx had been unconscious almost twenty-four hours now.
"Mmmm," was all she managed to say in response. She felt like she was trying to swim through thick mud and getting nowhere fast.
"Come on, you. You've slept more than enough already." He leaned over to whisper in her ear. "You're making me look good here -- this time you overslept."
"D-- Dare?" she mumbled as she tried to force her eyes open, but the glue someone had apparently poured on them was doing its job well.
"Yeah. Wake up, please, you have us all worried." He rolled her onto her back and looked at her. She was a bit paler than usual, but that might just be from all the drugs. He hoped it was just from the drugs.
"Huh?" She cracked her eyes open and shut them quickly as the light stabbed like a couple of really sharp ice picks into her brain. "Ick. I think I'll just go back to sleep."
Darien lifted his head and turned to look at that mirror. "Could you dim the lights, please?" A few seconds later, they did as he asked and he turned back to Alyx. "Come on, rise and shine." Claire had asked him to get Alyx conscious if she began to show signs of waking, and to keep her that way until someone could examine her. "Don't make me drag you into a cold shower."
Alyx chuckled. "Right. Like to see ya try." She got her eyes open and blinked several times to get them to focus. "Hey, did we win?" Her memory was a bit muzzy at the moment, but she had the vague recollection of a gunfight. "And why are we in the padded room's evil twin?"
Darien grinned, feeling a great deal of relief that he did his best not to show. He tapped the heavily sealed case she was still attached to. "Kinda ran into some problems. Remember?"
Alyx lifted her hand to look at the cuff still about it and groaned. "How bad? And why am I still wearing the jewelry that goes 'boom'?"
"Bad enough. One of the other guys died a couple hours ago, but you and I are still okay for some reason." He rattled the metal cord attaching the cuff to the case. "They still don't know how to get if off you without blowing you up. So you're stuck with it for now."
"Marvy." Alyx closed her eyes for a moment as more and more of her came awake. She forced herself into a sitting position and looked about the room with less enthusiasm than Darien had upon regaining consciousness. "'Scuse me."
Darien helped her up and watched as she staggered to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Going over to the mirrored wall, he tried to see past his reflection without success. "Tell Claire Alyx is awake."
"We will, Mr. Fawkes," the neutral male voice answered. "Expect a visitor within the hour."
Darien just nodded and turned around to wait for Alyx to come back out. When she finally did, several minutes later, she had some color back. "How long was I out?"
"A day," he answered, watching her carefully.
Alyx laughed. "Cute. Just tell me."
Darien moved over to her. "No kidding, you were out almost twenty-four hours. We were all getting more than a bit concerned." When she just stared at him, he steered her over to the bed and got her to sit back down.
"Well.... crap." Alyx wasn't sure what else to say. "And yet I still feel like going back to sleep. They must have really overdone the sedatives this time." She began to shift, feeling the various aches and pains that had developed while she slept slowly come to life and make themselves known. Her arms were pincushion central, but her back was the worst. "Darien, would you take a look at my back? It hurts like hell."
"Uh, sure." Alyx turned and he lifted up her shirt and noticed the prominent bruise that had formed on her lower back right along the spine. "Whoa. Yeah, I bet it hurts." He ran his fingers over the bruise and she hissed in pain.
"Urf, why would they do a lumbar puncture?" He had released the shirt and moved both hands to gently massage the muscles around the bruise, which were tight and stiff. "Ah, damn."
"Hurts? I can stop."
She shook her head. "Don't, those muscles are so damn tight it's not funny." When he chuckled she sighed. "Next time I tell you to stay back, will you listen to me?"
"I don't know. Here we are, alone and in bed, and no Hobbesy to give us 'the lecture.' We could take advantage of the situation." He was concentrating on one spot that was nothing but pure knot and couldn't see her reaction.
"Always wanted to be a film star did you?" Alyx asked in amusement. "There are four cameras in this room to cover all the angles. At least they only have audio in the bathroom. I'm surprised they gave us that much privacy." When his hands froze, she turned to look at him. "You didn't really think they weren't monitoring us, did you? In a high security quarantine facility? Who runs this one? CDC, or is it military?"
"Damn, you'd think I'd know better by now." He leaned in and rested his head against hers for a moment. "I don't know where we are. They brought us here while we were out, and I doubt they'd tell us."
"True, very true." Alyx leaned back against Darien as his hands returned to easing the stiffness in her back. "Well, Claire, what's the good word?" She could sense the Keeper's tired presence on the far side of the glass.
"Very little good, I'm afraid. I still haven't identified the virus strain. We still can't remove the case. And the ... agency you were transporting it for, as well as the one that was supposed to receive it, deny any knowledge of it." There was a long pause. "So far you and Darien are showing no symptoms, but that can't last much longer. You two have proven to be somewhat resistant, but the last round of blood tests...." Claire trailed off. "We're doing everything we can."
During Claire's speech, Darien had wrapped his arms about Alyx. "How about some books or something? Give us something to do?" Alyx asked.
"Yes, they'll be arriving in a few minutes. You'll have to endure another round of blood being drawn, and Alyx, you need to eat something," Claire was surprised when they didn't really react. "Are you two feeling all right?"
"Just fine, Keepy. And we'd like to stay that way." Darien answered for the both of them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
--- Wednesday ---
I've made some progress. Not enough to cure them, but a start. Darien's comment about Arnaud, coupled with the fact he seems to be resistant to the virus, made me go back to the lab at the Agency and check the samples I had on hand of the flu virus Arnaud had created. I had been working on a vaccine, just in case the strain ever appeared in the population at large. When I arrived, however, I discovered several of the samples were missing.
When I confronted the Official, he admitted to having given other agencies -- including the CDC -- the samples for research purposes. I wanted to scream at him, but at the time I was too tired. Once this is all over, though, I may very well have a chat with him. That the samples were farmed out to other places for study makes some sense, but not informing me... that is what makes me the most angry. Just now, though I don't have the time.
There are indeed some similarities between the two viruses, leading me to believe this one may be a redesign of the Arnaud Special -- the nickname Darien gave it at the time. There are differences, though. The original strain was designed to target Darien almost exclusively, and the antibodies I used to cure Darien then are not enough of a match to help in this situation.
I know, because I tried. I gave the healthiest of the remaining sick men the antibodies that worked for Arnaud's virus, and it seemed to help -- at first. The fever came back down, and the fluid building up in their lungs began to recede, but then the virus fought back and they relapsed, became even more ill than they had been, and died within hours.
Leaving only Darien and Alyx left.
Darien's resistance makes some sense now. Since he survived the Arnaud Special -- the current strain's cousin -- his body has an inkling of how to fight it. But, based on what happened with the two I tried to help, his immune system will eventually lose the fight and crash. Which is why I wasn't all that surprised early this morning when I was told he'd begun to run a low-grade fever. He had complained of the typical body aches and some mild nausea, but amazingly enough has not worsened.
Alyx is confusing all of us. Her system is so unique, so completely different, that I'm not sure what is going on. According to the tests I ran, she should be very ill, but, except for her back bothering her from the lumbar puncture, she's fine.
A few questions to her have given me more data to ponder, and explain why her records have been so difficult to track down: there aren't any. Her parents -- both of whom held multiple doctorates in various medical fields -- took over her medical care at about age five. She could remember having all the usual childhood illnesses -- colds, the flu, ear infections -- but once she reached adolescence she dealt with a bout of migraines, and then nothing since.
Something in her system changed dramatically during those teenage years, leaving her highly resistant to most, if not all, illnesses. She even commented, via her telepathy -- not wanting Darien to overhear, at a guess -- that her husband used to complain that while he would catch whatever stray bug or virus the kids had brought home, she never did. That had usually resulted in another beating, her being healthy somehow justifying putting her back into what he perceived as her place.
It appears Alyx is naturally resistant, thanks to the alterations that were made to her as an infant. Though what exactly that means in this situation I have no way of knowing yet. Whether or not it will save her is yet to be seen.
It is swiftly turning into a good news/bad news day. Through Bobby's "Hobbes-net" we have learned that the case contained several samples, including not only the virus, but also the vaccine. If I could get into the case, I could save both their lives with little trouble. As with Arnaud's creation, all I would need is a sample of the original strain, to match the viral proteins with the antibodies. The one that mimics the synthetic peptides the closest would be the one with the greatest chance of fighting off the virus. They could go from near death to healthy within hours.
The problem is that we still can't get into the case safely. The deactivation code for the self-destruct is still an unknown, and on top of that we need a separate code to unlock the case itself. We tried to gain access through the bullet holes, in hopes of retrieving an undamaged sample, but with no success. All we did manage to do -- with a fiber optic camera -- was learn that there are indeed several samples still intact, as is the explosive device. Alyx confirmed that the power supply is still active -- she can feel it -- but she can't really manipulate it, at least not without a high degree of risk.
She admits she could turn it off easily, but since we have no idea if that would trigger the explosives inside, we've decided against it for now. And since the electronics to the self-destruct itself are not currently active, she can't do a thing with them. Feeding some of her own energy through the device might very well trigger the explosion, and while she would probably be able to contain it and confine the damage to nothing but the case and its contents, I told her no. I didn't explain why, but I have the feeling she knows. Knows I wouldn't leave her chained to its dead weight and dangerous cargo without a very good reason.
It is very frustrating. What I need is right there, in that case I can see through the glass dividing the two rooms, and I cannot get to it.
I wish I could do more, but right now all I can do is run tests and hope secondary methods work to prolong their health until I have everything I need. I have made sure they have things to keep their minds off what is happening. A television was the one thing I couldn't get for them, but I provided books of various types -- though it looks liked the person given the task simply raided the bookshelves at the nearest 7-11, since they are mainly Harlequin romances and bad science fiction novels -- as well as board games and several decks of cards. Alyx also asked for pen and paper, which I provided willingly enough. I can only hope she doesn't want them to write out her last will and testament or the equivalent. That thought is just too depressing, partially because I am beginning to fear it might be necessary.
I also left some basic medical gear in there, items they both know how to use such as a blood pressure cuff, a thermometer, and a stethoscope, along with several bottles of electrolyte drink. The drink is better for Darien, now that he's actually fallen ill, and easier than trying to deal with an IV line in these conditions. Several of the other patients suffered seizures and violent dreams, resulting in the lines being pulled out of their arms before we were able to restrain them. Difficult to deal with, and Darien is not nearly ill enough to warrant it yet anyway.
I just wish I could get them talking to each other again.
Something happened between them during the overnight hours, while I was catching a nap that I hadn't even planned on taking. My body demanded and forced me into the sleep it required to function. I've reviewed the tapes, but I'm still not sure exactly what occurred. Darien was reading quietly, apparently wide-awake, while Alyx lay curled up beside him. Giving comfort to each other through simple contact. We had overdone the sedatives, and she was still trying to flush them from her system. She'd stumbled around groggy for most of the evening, until I finally relented and allowed her to sleep off the remainder. The audio didn't pick up anything from her, but at a guess she had begun talking in her sleep. Whatever it was had caused Darien some concern, and he attempted to wake her.
Alyx's reaction surprised both him and myself with its sheer violence. After jerking awake, she scrambled away from him and dumped both him and the bed over onto the floor. She ended up over by the door, looking frantic, while Darien stared her in complete shock and confusion. Eventually she sank down to the floor and huddled upon herself, while Darien got to his feet and straightened the bed. It took quite a bit of effort on his part -- I know how heavy they are, and therefore know Alyx must have used her powers to dump it over.
When he finally turned back to her, walked over and squatted down next to her, she tensed and it took several minutes before she relaxed enough to lift her head and look at him. Once again they kept their voices down, perhaps communicating more mind-to-mind than vocally, to keep the discussion private. I could see Darien getting more and more upset and frustrated, while Alyx simply closed herself off, growing colder and harder. Eventually she got to her feet and told him, in no uncertain terms, that it was none of his business and to stay away from her. Alyx then left him crouched on the floor, while she spent most of the next hour in the bathroom -- hiding.
She played with the audio signal in there just enough that we were able to keep track of what she was doing, but that was all. Anything she may have spoken aloud was distorted so badly no one has any idea what she said. Not that it's of great importance. I think she was simply arguing with herself. She cares about Darien far more than she is willing to admit, and it is a good bet the harsh words she threw down caused her almost as much pain as they did him.
And they did indeed hurt him. He stayed in the same position for several minutes before finally heaving a long sigh and retreating to his bed, where he pretended to read for the duration of her time hiding in the bathroom. They studiously avoided looking at or speaking to each other when she reappeared, and for a while I reconsidered my decision to keep them together. Perhaps it was doing nothing more than forcing an issue that neither was really ready to deal with. Alyx spent a few minutes stretching muscles, which had become stiff and sore thanks to all the tests we had run, before choosing a deck of cards and playing a complex version of solitaire on the floor near the small table that had been set up for their meals.
Less than an hour later, Darien fell ill.
Alyx stayed to the side when the doctor came in to examine Darien, and afterwards she helped out as much as he would allow her to. She brought him drinks, and took his temp and blood pressure when requested by those on the far side of the glass. Just simple things that make this situation easier and save time -- it takes a minimum of ten minutes for one of us to get into the self-contained suits. She has also been placing towels dampened with cold water on his forehead and neck whenever the fever chooses to peak, helping his body fight the virus that is attempting to win the battle for control.
Darien is miserable, but not anywhere as bad as the others got, and he has been improving somewhat for the last several hours. He's taken up that book again, one of the trashy romance novels, and is sitting up reading while Alyx moves slowly through one of her routines. She has combined what looks like yoga and tai chi, achieving slow stretching movements and controlled poses that, if she did not have an audience, would probably include demonstrations of her other talents, such as unique and finely controlled quicksilvering, and telekinetic practice.
As I watch, she folds herself over, setting that damn case on the floor next to her, and places her palms flat on the floor before wrapping her arms about her legs. Her shirt rides up slightly, and I can see the bruise the lumbar puncture caused. I had thought at first that it might have been poorly done, but the same doctor had performed all of them and she was the only one to suffer the severe bruising. I have the feeling she expected it, since she just waves off the discomfort.
As she begins to straighten, she starts shaking. For an instant I think something is wrong, but after a moment I realize she's laughing quietly, her eyes twinkling with merriment. She looks over her shoulder at Darien, who is doing his best to not crack a smile and keeping his eyes glued on the book in his hands. I suddenly realize that they've probably been talking for quite a while, perhaps him reading to her via a light telepathic connection, though they haven't spoken a word aloud for the last hour or so. Not that I can recall, anyway.
"You're right," Darien says aloud, "it is poorly written. Maybe we should edit and try to improve it a bit."
Alyx grins and shifts the case slightly, actually holding the handle instead of letting it dangle off the metal cord that is her leash to it. Her cheeks are bright red, which is odd, and she blinks, her smile fading.
"Umm, is it hot in here or is it just me?" she asks quietly, then collapses.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The book fell from Darien's hands, forgotten, as he rushed to her side. She was still conscious, though just barely, which surprised him since she'd hit the floor rather solidly. Steel to skull was not a sound he enjoyed hearing at any time, but the fact that it was her skull drove all rational thought from his mind. At first he was afraid to touch her, but when she moaned and tried to sit up he found himself able to move and lifted her up, annoying metal case and all, and carried her to her bed. She wasn't just a little warm, she was downright hot to the touch.
"Claire! She's burning up!" Darien shouted to the air.
"All right, Darien. Calm down. Someone will be in there shortly." Claire's voice was carefully controlled.
"No, Claire. You! I want you in here." Darien stalked over to the mirror and banged a fist against it hard enough to rattle the thick glass. The aches and discomfort he'd been feeling seemed to have vanished for the moment, and he had to take second to calm himself before parts started vanishing.
There was a wait that seemed like an eternity to him, but then Claire answered, "All right. Give me twenty minutes. Do what you can to get her temp down."
Darien pushed away from the mirror and rushed to the bathroom. He proceeded to soak several towels in cold water and wring out the excess, before bringing them out to stuff around Alyx, just as she had been doing for him for most of the day. He didn't think she'd really care about the fact he was getting her shirt soaked in the process. When he got around to laying one across her forehead, she opened her eyes and attempted to focus on him.
"Sorry," she mumbled. Everything hurt. She hadn't felt this awful since being forced to go through withdrawal from the crap they'd kept her doped up on at that lab, and it didn't help that her shielding was suddenly more than a little iffy.
"Sorry? Whatever for?" The initial adrenaline rush had worn off, leaving him feeling less than healthy himself, but just looking at her he could tell she was far worse. "Claire will be here in a few minutes, you just try to look alive till then."
Alyx chuckled softly. "Easier said than done." Part of her just wanted to close her eyes and fall. To just let this happen and have it all over with, finally. "Dare, how do you do it?"
"Do what?" He gently picked up her free hand and wrapped his far larger one about it. There wasn't much else he could do until Claire had checked Alyx over.
"Keep going every day when you hate it so damn much?" Her voice grew slurred by the end, fighting to stay conscious, knowing she needed to stay conscious for now.
"I... I don't hate all of it," he answered very softly, and watched as she fought to keep her eyes open. "Come on, you. Stay awake for me." He reached up and turned over the towel that rested on her forehead. The side that had been against her skin was warm already, but she wasn't sweating. It was one of those dry fevers that can be so very misleading and dangerous. Just as his own had been.
"Yet, most days you still wonder why you bother to get out of bed." Alyx could feel his shock and surprise, even as he tried to keep his expression neutral. Her shielding was so thin at the moment that there was little she couldn't pick up from him, especially with physical contact. With all the energy she could muster, she pulled her hand from his and felt his presence, his thoughts and emotions, fade to a less prominent level. One she could deal with a bit easier. "Sorry," she apologized again. "It might be better if you stay away."
"You gonna start that crap again?" Darien made adjustments to the towels about her, but was careful to avoid contact with her skin.
"This is not something you need to deal with," Alyx struggled to get out. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe, never mind speak. She fought the urge to cough, fearing that once begun it wouldn't stop. "Dare..."
"Enough, damn it, just..." he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "Just shut up for now." Her running hot and cold was nothing new, but right now she was just being foolish. "You can't even sit up on your own, and no, don't you dare try." Darien set one hand on her shoulder as a precaution, but all she did was swallow hard and nod slightly. "Worry about it later. You... you've made your point." One hand came up to rest against one cheek, which was amazingly flushed and pale at the same time.
Her eyes fluttered shut as her breathing became even more harsh. She leaned into his touch, not caring or even really noticing the rush of emotions she was picking up. She wanted what little comfort she could allow herself. She knew she shouldn't, but she was unable to prevent herself from drifting off into slumber, her body demanding she rest for a while as it fought its own battle for survival.
"Alyx? Damn it, Alyx, don't do this." Darien tried in vain to wake her, wanted to shake her till her eyes opened, wanted to fix everything and make it all better. He pressed gentle fingers to her throat to find her pulse. It was far from the slow and steady beat he'd felt one or twice before. Her breath wheezing in and out harshly did not help his confidence any, either.
She was going to die, and he was going to have to sit here and watch it happen. Part of him wasn't surprised; in fact, he'd kind of been expecting something like this to happen all along. It was just the way his life went, especially with women. The only one to have stayed around recently was the one he hadn't really wanted -- Claire.
The door to the room slid open then and Claire entered, but not alone. There were two others with her, one of whom was pushing a metal cart laden with various pieces of equipment, only few of which he recognized. The other was, much to his surprise, Hobbes.
"How ya doing, Fawkes?" Hobbes asked and waved for Darien to move away from the bed so that Claire and the other doc could get to work.
Darien sank onto one of the chairs at the small table, where the various amusements were currently stacked. "Oh, just great, Hobbes."
"She'll make it, Fawkes. She's more than tough enough to fight off a little cold." Hobbes' attempt to make Darien feel more at ease about the situation fell flat. "It's taking longer than we thought to get people to cough up any info. We think they'd rather have the two of you out of the game than admit they screwed up."
"So what do we do? Claire apparently can't fix this, not in time anyway. Hell, I can't leave in case I infect the entire city with this damn bug, and I can't just watch...." He stopped, refusing to complete that thought.
"If we can get into that case safely, everything Claire needs is inside. That's why that mook came in with the fancy camera. There are intact samples. Of course, the bomb is still working just fine, too. These damn electronic ones are a bitch to deal with." Hobbes watched a faint look of hope cross Darien's features. "What?"
"Damn. I am an idiot sometimes. Hobbes, if I give you a list, do you think you can get me some gear?" He looked right into Hobbes' eyes. "Some of the pieces are less-than-legal."
Understanding dawned. "You think you can crack that code?"
Darien shrugged. "Will it hurt to try? Look at her, Hobbes, do you really think she's gonna make it if I don't?" He tipped his head to the side. "'Sides, I do have some experience cracking complicated locks."
"Huh. All right. Give me the list and I'll see what I can do," Hobbes answered, actually feeling a bit more confident as Darien grabbed the pen and paper that sat on the table and began writing. When he handed it over a few minutes later, it had a list of everything he could possibly need.
Hobbes looked it over, shooting a look or two of surprise at Darien, then nodded. "I can probably get most of this, but it'll take a few. I should have it by morning."
Darien turned to look at the pair working on Alyx.
Hobbes got to his feet. "Is there anything you need? Maybe some real food? I know, some chicken soup from my deli. They lace it with garlic and the matzo..." He attempted to kiss his fingers but only smashed them into the heavy plastic of the mask, causing Darien to smile. "It'll do more good for you than the anti... whatevers the Keep keeps going on about."
Darien did an internal check and decided that might not be a good idea about now. He was still feeling crappy enough to want to steer clear from even semi-solid food. "No thanks, Hobbes, better wait till the Keep says it's okay."
"True. I'll get to work on this. The Fat Man is gonna love this solution." Hobbes made it plain that was far from the truth.
"Bobby, unless he can get the code, there is no choice. I need those samples as soon as possible." Claire had moved over to join them, and Darien realized the suits' radios must be on the same frequency.
"I'll do my best Claire, but you know how he can be." Hobbes could see the worry on Claire's face, and had overheard most of the conversation between her and Dr. Kent. Alyx was a mess and had yet to hit the worst of it. "I'll get the gear one way or another by morning." Hobbes made his decision. He'd do it for Fawkes, so how could he do less for the kid?
"Thanks, Bobby," Darien said softly. "Now get moving." He pointed at the door, and Hobbes grinned and did as ordered. When Hobbes was gone and the door once again sealed, Darien turned to Claire.
"I need to examine you as well," Claire said to him as he focused on her.
"Yeah, okay." He moved over to the bed and they went through the routine. When she drew the blood, he hissed in pain. "Gonna have to poke someplace else next time, Keep. My arms are getting damn sore."
"Sorry, but it's necessary." Claire marked the test tube and then set the sample on the tray next to the three they had taken from Alyx. "How are you feeling? The truth."
"'Bout the same as lunchtime. Less nausea. Bit of a headache to go with the rest. Not too bad, considering everyone else is dead." All true; he didn't understand why he was feeling as well as he was and didn't really care. "Alyx?"
"Not good. We're giving her what help we can, but it will only prolong the inevitable at this point," Claire answered truthfully.
"Prolong is good." He met Claire's eyes. "Tell me you can fix this. That when I get that damn case open, you can make her better."
"And what about you?" Claire asked in curiosity.
"What about me? I'm not the one looking half-de...." He choked off the word, not able to say it. To make it real.
Claire just nodded. "She'll be in and out of consciousness. Try not to worry too much. Someone will be on call for emergencies." Claire was planning on saying more, but Dr. Kent got her attention just then.
"She's coming around, Dr. Keeply."
There might have been only a few feet separating the beds, but Darien still got there first and took an overly-warm hand into his.
Alyx tried swim up from the depths her mind had fallen into. It was so damn hot. Heat and.... flames everywhere. It was odd to be dreaming about flames, fire, and she hated it. Hated the images and memories, already stirred up by her conversation days before with the Keeper, which surged closer to the surface. Though why she seemed to be standing in forest that was nothing but flames confused her. That was not a typical scenario of her dreams, nor were the man-shaped pyres, though the scents and screams were all too familiar. When a burning car suddenly made an appearance, she fled from it, her eyes snapping open and her entire body jerking in reaction.
Darien saw her regain consciousness with a suddenness that was shocking. The look of momentary horror in her eyes was frightening to him and made him wonder what had been going on in her mind as they tried to bring her back to reality. "Hey, easy there. It's all right."
Alyx could feel everything he was through the hand wrapped coolly about hers. Then she suddenly got more than she expected. It had happened on a couple of other occasions, which she'd told no one about, and she had learned that she could not stop it, could not fight it, and was forced to simply let the impressions roll across her. Right now she didn't even have the energy to complain about it, could barely understand it. She got just enough to know Darien would be okay, would walk away from this and get on with his life, would survive to fight another day. She whimpered, trying to pull her hand out of his, to break off the flood of information, but couldn't.
"Alyx, relax, you're stable for now," Claire said in a calm voice.
"Shot," Alyx croaked out, her throat incredibly sore.
"I've given you several that should help you fight this," Claire began to explain, but Alyx shook her head, stopping quickly when it made her nauseous. "What then?"
"Darien needs a shot," Alyx explained.
"Huh?" Darien glanced at his wrist and saw he had four remaining green. "She's right." He showed Claire.
Alyx struggled to sit up a bit more. It felt like she was trying to breathe underwater, and Dr. Kent adjusted the pillows behind her until she was partially sitting. "Get him out of here."
"What?" both Claire and Darien asked at the same time.
"He's fine, and he doesn't need to watch ... this." Alyx waved her other hand slightly, rattling the cable that still chained her to the case. "Run the blood test. You'll see."
Darien caught the look between the two of them. After a second, Claire nodded slightly. "Let me verify it first."
"I'm not leaving," Darien proclaimed.
Claire grabbed him by the upper arm and dragged him away from Alyx, who sighed in relief to have his hold upon her hand loosened. To have the stream of thoughts and emotions stopped for the moment.
"Darien, if she's right and you're fine, there is no reason for you to stay." Claire got him to focus on her. "And every reason for you to leave."
"No, damn it," he snapped at a harsh whisper. "The Fat Man ordered me to protect her, to keep her alive at any cost, and I intend to do that." He saw Claire's look tighten and knew she was going to argue. "I have to stay till Hobbes brings the gear. I'm probably the only one who might stand a chance of getting her out of that thing." He didn't give her the chance to make any commentary about his skills. He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. "Damn it, Claire, I'm not giving her up without a fight."
"All right," Claire relented, "but you are getting a shot of counteragent now." He could help care for Alyx, although she could probably argue the point about him getting her free of the cuff. "Go on. I know you want to go worry at her."
Darien did just as she said and perched on the edge of the bed, with Alyx's hand once again in his.
I look through the thick glass at my pair of kepts and try not to worry, try to remain clinically detached, but it is so very difficult. It's been almost fifteen hours since we retrieved them from that abandoned building. They are still unconscious. It was necessary at the time and made it easier to run the tests that they would not have enjoyed going through while awake. Originally they were supposed to be separated, like the other six men, but I overrode that order. Neither of them is going to enjoy the accommodations when they wake up, and I'm hoping that being together will ease the stress of being confined. The walls and floor are steel -- easy to clean if contaminated. There's a small but complete bathroom, plus changes of clothing and other linens, which will be destroyed when this is all over. Food will be supplied from the outside, though there is a separate filtered faucet for drinking water.
They are sleeping off the last of the sedatives on the plain beds in the room. Darien just barely fits on his, while Alyx is huddled in a small ball on hers. She's been shaking and shivering for the last several hours as she fights the drugs. She's never handled long-term induced unconsciousness well, and since she adapts to the drugs fairly quickly, she's been doped up at a level that would keep the average person out for a week. Even unconscious she is stubborn. A good thing, I realize -- she's going to need that stubborn streak to deal with what I fear will be coming.
Both of them have been contaminated with the biologic in that case. That unknown biologic. With the recipient dead, we've been unable to do more than seal the damage to the case and leave it attached to Alyx's wrist. Near as they can tell, the self-destruct is still functional, so without the proper code there is, as yet, no safe way to remove it. The Official, Eberts, and Bobby are trying to track down exactly what was being transported so that we can, hopefully, find a cure before it does too much damage. Two of the six men who had been trying to steal the case are already showing flu-like symptoms and the rest, along with Darien and Alyx, have tested positive for exposure. The virus is running through their bloodstreams and doing what it was programmed to do. Kill.
I can only thank god Alyx was wise enough to realize the danger and quarantine everyone in that building until help arrived. No one knew exactly how it was spread, though it appears to have been a short-term airborne that dissipated quickly. No residue was found in the building or on their clothes after the first hour. If it is as deadly as we think it will be, then it would make an interesting assassination weapon. Expose the target, and by the time they fall ill, twelve to twenty-four hours later, the residue would have dissipated. And since it resembles a common illness, no one would suspect a thing without detailed tests. But we are taking no risks -- it could very well be contagious person-to-person, and until we knew for sure they all have to remain quarantined.
I hear the door behind me open and feel a warm presence by my side a moment later. Poor Bobby has been worried sick and pulling out what's left of his hair in frustration. He'd been quarantined for six hours until we were sure he'd not been exposed, and then he went right to work trying to track down not only what they'd been transporting, but how to get that cuff off of Alyx without activating the self-destruct. He has apparently been meeting stone wall after stone wall. The original source is even denying anything about the delivery, much to the Official's irritation.
"How they doing, Keepy?"
I turn away from the window to examine the Bobby's worried countenance. I knew he would trade places with either of them in a heartbeat. It is one of those things that make Bobby -- Bobby. "So far so good. They should be waking up soon."
As if in response to my words, Darien groans and sits up to hold his head in his hands. It's a good bet he has a headache from all the sedatives. Probably similar to a hangover. Bobby sighs in obvious relief to see Darien up and moving. Staggering, actually, as he gets off the bed and makes his shaky way to the bathroom. When he reappears a few minutes later, he's looking a bit pale and his hair is damp. He's wearing a pair of scrub pants and a t-shirt, supplied by the secure lab we're at. I hope he was not overly attached to the clothes he had been wearing, seeing as they are now nothing more than a pile of ashes.
He looks about the dimly lit room blindly for a few minutes, as if trying to figure out where he is. His eyes lock onto the mirror that I am standing behind and then he turns his head to see the small form of Alyx lying on the other bed. Pushing away from the doorframe, he glares at the glass -- I swear he's looking right at me -- and goes to Alyx. Shifting her, he sits at the head of the bed with her sprawled across his lap. As I hoped, giving him something to focus on besides being confined is keeping him reasonably calm. I can see he's worried, though. His fingers run along her face and through her hair as he talks quietly to her. She's still shaking in reaction, and will until she regains consciousness. After about fifteen minutes of silence, he speaks up.
"Keep? Claire, are you there?"
I flip on the mic and answer him. "I'm here Darien. What do you need?"
"Is... Is she all right?" he asks turning to face the mirror.
"Just drugged. She should be waking up soon." He relaxes somewhat at my words, but it's obvious he's still worried. "How are you feeling? Hungry?"
Darien makes a face. "Not now. Maybe after the hangover is done killing me." He looks down at Alyx and then tips his head back against the wall. "How long were we out? Is Hobbes okay?"
Bobby leans over the mic. "Just fine, Fawkes, thanks to you and the kid. A little poking and prodding and they turned me loose."
Bobby's words seem to help and some of the worry leaves Darien's posture. "Darien, it's midmorning Tuesday. So far, you and Alyx are okay."
"But? I hear that 'but' in your voice, Keepy. What about those other guys? How are they?" He looks so very resigned, like he's already come to terms with the idea that he's going to die. Which he isn't, not if I can help it.
"Two are ill, and it's just a matter of time with the others. You and Alyx are a bit more resistant for some reason." He just slumps down a bit and reaches out for Alyx's free hand to hold. "It's a flu-like virus. Similar symptoms, but resistant to the usual drugs."
"Arnaud again?" Darien sounds exasperated.
"Nah, those mooks have nothing to do with the Swiss Miss Mother, but they also haven't told us who they do work for, and aren't likely to in the near future. They were after the package and nothing else," Bobby answers. The mention of Arnaud gives me an idea as to why Darien might be resistant to the virus. I'm going to have to run some more tests, and soon.
"When can we get out of here?"
"It may be a while Darien. I'm sorry, but if there's any chance this is contagious...." I trail off as he closes his eyes and tips his head down. "Rest for a bit. Someone will be in once Alyx wakes up, to draw some more blood samples. Just call if you need anything." He nods and I turn off the mic before closing my eyes and leaning forward against the glass.
"You need to get some sleep, Claire," Bobby says as his hands come to rest on my shoulders.
"After. After I've done everything I can to save them," I answer as I allow myself to enjoy his touch for a moment. His fingers are moving gently, trying to ease the tension in my neck and shoulders. "Any luck on your end?"
"Not enough." He sounds angry and tired himself, but his hands don't stop, even when the door opens and one of the doctors helping hands me a file.
Opening it, I'm not in the least surprised at the data before me. All six are showing symptoms now, and one of the first to fall ill has lapsed into a coma due to a high fever. "Damn," I whisper.
"Bad, Keep?"
"Yes, but I have an idea of where to start."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was nearly evening before Alyx began to show signs of consciousness, and by then even the docs were getting worried. They'd both had blood drawn twice more -- his arms ached from all the holes he was now sporting -- but Alyx had slept through it all. Claire had convinced him to eat a few hours ago; the food was unexciting, but did well enough to fill the grumbling hole his stomach had become. He was not thrilled at the HAZMAT-type suits the guys came in wearing -- made him feel like a plague carrier or something. With the exception of a leftover headache from all the drugs, he was feeling pretty good. The shower had helped get rid of the worst of it.
He'd been getting more than a little bored and had requested books, a TV -- heck, a newspaper -- anything to keep his mind off of where they were, why they were here, or the fact that Alyx still had not woken up. But now she was muttering under her breath and shifting slightly.
"Hey sleepy-head, you gonna wake up?" He sat down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand up and down her arm, hoping it might help her reconnect. When Claire said they'd given her a high dose of sedative, she hadn't been kidding. Alyx had been unconscious almost twenty-four hours now.
"Mmmm," was all she managed to say in response. She felt like she was trying to swim through thick mud and getting nowhere fast.
"Come on, you. You've slept more than enough already." He leaned over to whisper in her ear. "You're making me look good here -- this time you overslept."
"D-- Dare?" she mumbled as she tried to force her eyes open, but the glue someone had apparently poured on them was doing its job well.
"Yeah. Wake up, please, you have us all worried." He rolled her onto her back and looked at her. She was a bit paler than usual, but that might just be from all the drugs. He hoped it was just from the drugs.
"Huh?" She cracked her eyes open and shut them quickly as the light stabbed like a couple of really sharp ice picks into her brain. "Ick. I think I'll just go back to sleep."
Darien lifted his head and turned to look at that mirror. "Could you dim the lights, please?" A few seconds later, they did as he asked and he turned back to Alyx. "Come on, rise and shine." Claire had asked him to get Alyx conscious if she began to show signs of waking, and to keep her that way until someone could examine her. "Don't make me drag you into a cold shower."
Alyx chuckled. "Right. Like to see ya try." She got her eyes open and blinked several times to get them to focus. "Hey, did we win?" Her memory was a bit muzzy at the moment, but she had the vague recollection of a gunfight. "And why are we in the padded room's evil twin?"
Darien grinned, feeling a great deal of relief that he did his best not to show. He tapped the heavily sealed case she was still attached to. "Kinda ran into some problems. Remember?"
Alyx lifted her hand to look at the cuff still about it and groaned. "How bad? And why am I still wearing the jewelry that goes 'boom'?"
"Bad enough. One of the other guys died a couple hours ago, but you and I are still okay for some reason." He rattled the metal cord attaching the cuff to the case. "They still don't know how to get if off you without blowing you up. So you're stuck with it for now."
"Marvy." Alyx closed her eyes for a moment as more and more of her came awake. She forced herself into a sitting position and looked about the room with less enthusiasm than Darien had upon regaining consciousness. "'Scuse me."
Darien helped her up and watched as she staggered to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Going over to the mirrored wall, he tried to see past his reflection without success. "Tell Claire Alyx is awake."
"We will, Mr. Fawkes," the neutral male voice answered. "Expect a visitor within the hour."
Darien just nodded and turned around to wait for Alyx to come back out. When she finally did, several minutes later, she had some color back. "How long was I out?"
"A day," he answered, watching her carefully.
Alyx laughed. "Cute. Just tell me."
Darien moved over to her. "No kidding, you were out almost twenty-four hours. We were all getting more than a bit concerned." When she just stared at him, he steered her over to the bed and got her to sit back down.
"Well.... crap." Alyx wasn't sure what else to say. "And yet I still feel like going back to sleep. They must have really overdone the sedatives this time." She began to shift, feeling the various aches and pains that had developed while she slept slowly come to life and make themselves known. Her arms were pincushion central, but her back was the worst. "Darien, would you take a look at my back? It hurts like hell."
"Uh, sure." Alyx turned and he lifted up her shirt and noticed the prominent bruise that had formed on her lower back right along the spine. "Whoa. Yeah, I bet it hurts." He ran his fingers over the bruise and she hissed in pain.
"Urf, why would they do a lumbar puncture?" He had released the shirt and moved both hands to gently massage the muscles around the bruise, which were tight and stiff. "Ah, damn."
"Hurts? I can stop."
She shook her head. "Don't, those muscles are so damn tight it's not funny." When he chuckled she sighed. "Next time I tell you to stay back, will you listen to me?"
"I don't know. Here we are, alone and in bed, and no Hobbesy to give us 'the lecture.' We could take advantage of the situation." He was concentrating on one spot that was nothing but pure knot and couldn't see her reaction.
"Always wanted to be a film star did you?" Alyx asked in amusement. "There are four cameras in this room to cover all the angles. At least they only have audio in the bathroom. I'm surprised they gave us that much privacy." When his hands froze, she turned to look at him. "You didn't really think they weren't monitoring us, did you? In a high security quarantine facility? Who runs this one? CDC, or is it military?"
"Damn, you'd think I'd know better by now." He leaned in and rested his head against hers for a moment. "I don't know where we are. They brought us here while we were out, and I doubt they'd tell us."
"True, very true." Alyx leaned back against Darien as his hands returned to easing the stiffness in her back. "Well, Claire, what's the good word?" She could sense the Keeper's tired presence on the far side of the glass.
"Very little good, I'm afraid. I still haven't identified the virus strain. We still can't remove the case. And the ... agency you were transporting it for, as well as the one that was supposed to receive it, deny any knowledge of it." There was a long pause. "So far you and Darien are showing no symptoms, but that can't last much longer. You two have proven to be somewhat resistant, but the last round of blood tests...." Claire trailed off. "We're doing everything we can."
During Claire's speech, Darien had wrapped his arms about Alyx. "How about some books or something? Give us something to do?" Alyx asked.
"Yes, they'll be arriving in a few minutes. You'll have to endure another round of blood being drawn, and Alyx, you need to eat something," Claire was surprised when they didn't really react. "Are you two feeling all right?"
"Just fine, Keepy. And we'd like to stay that way." Darien answered for the both of them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
--- Wednesday ---
I've made some progress. Not enough to cure them, but a start. Darien's comment about Arnaud, coupled with the fact he seems to be resistant to the virus, made me go back to the lab at the Agency and check the samples I had on hand of the flu virus Arnaud had created. I had been working on a vaccine, just in case the strain ever appeared in the population at large. When I arrived, however, I discovered several of the samples were missing.
When I confronted the Official, he admitted to having given other agencies -- including the CDC -- the samples for research purposes. I wanted to scream at him, but at the time I was too tired. Once this is all over, though, I may very well have a chat with him. That the samples were farmed out to other places for study makes some sense, but not informing me... that is what makes me the most angry. Just now, though I don't have the time.
There are indeed some similarities between the two viruses, leading me to believe this one may be a redesign of the Arnaud Special -- the nickname Darien gave it at the time. There are differences, though. The original strain was designed to target Darien almost exclusively, and the antibodies I used to cure Darien then are not enough of a match to help in this situation.
I know, because I tried. I gave the healthiest of the remaining sick men the antibodies that worked for Arnaud's virus, and it seemed to help -- at first. The fever came back down, and the fluid building up in their lungs began to recede, but then the virus fought back and they relapsed, became even more ill than they had been, and died within hours.
Leaving only Darien and Alyx left.
Darien's resistance makes some sense now. Since he survived the Arnaud Special -- the current strain's cousin -- his body has an inkling of how to fight it. But, based on what happened with the two I tried to help, his immune system will eventually lose the fight and crash. Which is why I wasn't all that surprised early this morning when I was told he'd begun to run a low-grade fever. He had complained of the typical body aches and some mild nausea, but amazingly enough has not worsened.
Alyx is confusing all of us. Her system is so unique, so completely different, that I'm not sure what is going on. According to the tests I ran, she should be very ill, but, except for her back bothering her from the lumbar puncture, she's fine.
A few questions to her have given me more data to ponder, and explain why her records have been so difficult to track down: there aren't any. Her parents -- both of whom held multiple doctorates in various medical fields -- took over her medical care at about age five. She could remember having all the usual childhood illnesses -- colds, the flu, ear infections -- but once she reached adolescence she dealt with a bout of migraines, and then nothing since.
Something in her system changed dramatically during those teenage years, leaving her highly resistant to most, if not all, illnesses. She even commented, via her telepathy -- not wanting Darien to overhear, at a guess -- that her husband used to complain that while he would catch whatever stray bug or virus the kids had brought home, she never did. That had usually resulted in another beating, her being healthy somehow justifying putting her back into what he perceived as her place.
It appears Alyx is naturally resistant, thanks to the alterations that were made to her as an infant. Though what exactly that means in this situation I have no way of knowing yet. Whether or not it will save her is yet to be seen.
It is swiftly turning into a good news/bad news day. Through Bobby's "Hobbes-net" we have learned that the case contained several samples, including not only the virus, but also the vaccine. If I could get into the case, I could save both their lives with little trouble. As with Arnaud's creation, all I would need is a sample of the original strain, to match the viral proteins with the antibodies. The one that mimics the synthetic peptides the closest would be the one with the greatest chance of fighting off the virus. They could go from near death to healthy within hours.
The problem is that we still can't get into the case safely. The deactivation code for the self-destruct is still an unknown, and on top of that we need a separate code to unlock the case itself. We tried to gain access through the bullet holes, in hopes of retrieving an undamaged sample, but with no success. All we did manage to do -- with a fiber optic camera -- was learn that there are indeed several samples still intact, as is the explosive device. Alyx confirmed that the power supply is still active -- she can feel it -- but she can't really manipulate it, at least not without a high degree of risk.
She admits she could turn it off easily, but since we have no idea if that would trigger the explosives inside, we've decided against it for now. And since the electronics to the self-destruct itself are not currently active, she can't do a thing with them. Feeding some of her own energy through the device might very well trigger the explosion, and while she would probably be able to contain it and confine the damage to nothing but the case and its contents, I told her no. I didn't explain why, but I have the feeling she knows. Knows I wouldn't leave her chained to its dead weight and dangerous cargo without a very good reason.
It is very frustrating. What I need is right there, in that case I can see through the glass dividing the two rooms, and I cannot get to it.
I wish I could do more, but right now all I can do is run tests and hope secondary methods work to prolong their health until I have everything I need. I have made sure they have things to keep their minds off what is happening. A television was the one thing I couldn't get for them, but I provided books of various types -- though it looks liked the person given the task simply raided the bookshelves at the nearest 7-11, since they are mainly Harlequin romances and bad science fiction novels -- as well as board games and several decks of cards. Alyx also asked for pen and paper, which I provided willingly enough. I can only hope she doesn't want them to write out her last will and testament or the equivalent. That thought is just too depressing, partially because I am beginning to fear it might be necessary.
I also left some basic medical gear in there, items they both know how to use such as a blood pressure cuff, a thermometer, and a stethoscope, along with several bottles of electrolyte drink. The drink is better for Darien, now that he's actually fallen ill, and easier than trying to deal with an IV line in these conditions. Several of the other patients suffered seizures and violent dreams, resulting in the lines being pulled out of their arms before we were able to restrain them. Difficult to deal with, and Darien is not nearly ill enough to warrant it yet anyway.
I just wish I could get them talking to each other again.
Something happened between them during the overnight hours, while I was catching a nap that I hadn't even planned on taking. My body demanded and forced me into the sleep it required to function. I've reviewed the tapes, but I'm still not sure exactly what occurred. Darien was reading quietly, apparently wide-awake, while Alyx lay curled up beside him. Giving comfort to each other through simple contact. We had overdone the sedatives, and she was still trying to flush them from her system. She'd stumbled around groggy for most of the evening, until I finally relented and allowed her to sleep off the remainder. The audio didn't pick up anything from her, but at a guess she had begun talking in her sleep. Whatever it was had caused Darien some concern, and he attempted to wake her.
Alyx's reaction surprised both him and myself with its sheer violence. After jerking awake, she scrambled away from him and dumped both him and the bed over onto the floor. She ended up over by the door, looking frantic, while Darien stared her in complete shock and confusion. Eventually she sank down to the floor and huddled upon herself, while Darien got to his feet and straightened the bed. It took quite a bit of effort on his part -- I know how heavy they are, and therefore know Alyx must have used her powers to dump it over.
When he finally turned back to her, walked over and squatted down next to her, she tensed and it took several minutes before she relaxed enough to lift her head and look at him. Once again they kept their voices down, perhaps communicating more mind-to-mind than vocally, to keep the discussion private. I could see Darien getting more and more upset and frustrated, while Alyx simply closed herself off, growing colder and harder. Eventually she got to her feet and told him, in no uncertain terms, that it was none of his business and to stay away from her. Alyx then left him crouched on the floor, while she spent most of the next hour in the bathroom -- hiding.
She played with the audio signal in there just enough that we were able to keep track of what she was doing, but that was all. Anything she may have spoken aloud was distorted so badly no one has any idea what she said. Not that it's of great importance. I think she was simply arguing with herself. She cares about Darien far more than she is willing to admit, and it is a good bet the harsh words she threw down caused her almost as much pain as they did him.
And they did indeed hurt him. He stayed in the same position for several minutes before finally heaving a long sigh and retreating to his bed, where he pretended to read for the duration of her time hiding in the bathroom. They studiously avoided looking at or speaking to each other when she reappeared, and for a while I reconsidered my decision to keep them together. Perhaps it was doing nothing more than forcing an issue that neither was really ready to deal with. Alyx spent a few minutes stretching muscles, which had become stiff and sore thanks to all the tests we had run, before choosing a deck of cards and playing a complex version of solitaire on the floor near the small table that had been set up for their meals.
Less than an hour later, Darien fell ill.
Alyx stayed to the side when the doctor came in to examine Darien, and afterwards she helped out as much as he would allow her to. She brought him drinks, and took his temp and blood pressure when requested by those on the far side of the glass. Just simple things that make this situation easier and save time -- it takes a minimum of ten minutes for one of us to get into the self-contained suits. She has also been placing towels dampened with cold water on his forehead and neck whenever the fever chooses to peak, helping his body fight the virus that is attempting to win the battle for control.
Darien is miserable, but not anywhere as bad as the others got, and he has been improving somewhat for the last several hours. He's taken up that book again, one of the trashy romance novels, and is sitting up reading while Alyx moves slowly through one of her routines. She has combined what looks like yoga and tai chi, achieving slow stretching movements and controlled poses that, if she did not have an audience, would probably include demonstrations of her other talents, such as unique and finely controlled quicksilvering, and telekinetic practice.
As I watch, she folds herself over, setting that damn case on the floor next to her, and places her palms flat on the floor before wrapping her arms about her legs. Her shirt rides up slightly, and I can see the bruise the lumbar puncture caused. I had thought at first that it might have been poorly done, but the same doctor had performed all of them and she was the only one to suffer the severe bruising. I have the feeling she expected it, since she just waves off the discomfort.
As she begins to straighten, she starts shaking. For an instant I think something is wrong, but after a moment I realize she's laughing quietly, her eyes twinkling with merriment. She looks over her shoulder at Darien, who is doing his best to not crack a smile and keeping his eyes glued on the book in his hands. I suddenly realize that they've probably been talking for quite a while, perhaps him reading to her via a light telepathic connection, though they haven't spoken a word aloud for the last hour or so. Not that I can recall, anyway.
"You're right," Darien says aloud, "it is poorly written. Maybe we should edit and try to improve it a bit."
Alyx grins and shifts the case slightly, actually holding the handle instead of letting it dangle off the metal cord that is her leash to it. Her cheeks are bright red, which is odd, and she blinks, her smile fading.
"Umm, is it hot in here or is it just me?" she asks quietly, then collapses.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The book fell from Darien's hands, forgotten, as he rushed to her side. She was still conscious, though just barely, which surprised him since she'd hit the floor rather solidly. Steel to skull was not a sound he enjoyed hearing at any time, but the fact that it was her skull drove all rational thought from his mind. At first he was afraid to touch her, but when she moaned and tried to sit up he found himself able to move and lifted her up, annoying metal case and all, and carried her to her bed. She wasn't just a little warm, she was downright hot to the touch.
"Claire! She's burning up!" Darien shouted to the air.
"All right, Darien. Calm down. Someone will be in there shortly." Claire's voice was carefully controlled.
"No, Claire. You! I want you in here." Darien stalked over to the mirror and banged a fist against it hard enough to rattle the thick glass. The aches and discomfort he'd been feeling seemed to have vanished for the moment, and he had to take second to calm himself before parts started vanishing.
There was a wait that seemed like an eternity to him, but then Claire answered, "All right. Give me twenty minutes. Do what you can to get her temp down."
Darien pushed away from the mirror and rushed to the bathroom. He proceeded to soak several towels in cold water and wring out the excess, before bringing them out to stuff around Alyx, just as she had been doing for him for most of the day. He didn't think she'd really care about the fact he was getting her shirt soaked in the process. When he got around to laying one across her forehead, she opened her eyes and attempted to focus on him.
"Sorry," she mumbled. Everything hurt. She hadn't felt this awful since being forced to go through withdrawal from the crap they'd kept her doped up on at that lab, and it didn't help that her shielding was suddenly more than a little iffy.
"Sorry? Whatever for?" The initial adrenaline rush had worn off, leaving him feeling less than healthy himself, but just looking at her he could tell she was far worse. "Claire will be here in a few minutes, you just try to look alive till then."
Alyx chuckled softly. "Easier said than done." Part of her just wanted to close her eyes and fall. To just let this happen and have it all over with, finally. "Dare, how do you do it?"
"Do what?" He gently picked up her free hand and wrapped his far larger one about it. There wasn't much else he could do until Claire had checked Alyx over.
"Keep going every day when you hate it so damn much?" Her voice grew slurred by the end, fighting to stay conscious, knowing she needed to stay conscious for now.
"I... I don't hate all of it," he answered very softly, and watched as she fought to keep her eyes open. "Come on, you. Stay awake for me." He reached up and turned over the towel that rested on her forehead. The side that had been against her skin was warm already, but she wasn't sweating. It was one of those dry fevers that can be so very misleading and dangerous. Just as his own had been.
"Yet, most days you still wonder why you bother to get out of bed." Alyx could feel his shock and surprise, even as he tried to keep his expression neutral. Her shielding was so thin at the moment that there was little she couldn't pick up from him, especially with physical contact. With all the energy she could muster, she pulled her hand from his and felt his presence, his thoughts and emotions, fade to a less prominent level. One she could deal with a bit easier. "Sorry," she apologized again. "It might be better if you stay away."
"You gonna start that crap again?" Darien made adjustments to the towels about her, but was careful to avoid contact with her skin.
"This is not something you need to deal with," Alyx struggled to get out. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe, never mind speak. She fought the urge to cough, fearing that once begun it wouldn't stop. "Dare..."
"Enough, damn it, just..." he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "Just shut up for now." Her running hot and cold was nothing new, but right now she was just being foolish. "You can't even sit up on your own, and no, don't you dare try." Darien set one hand on her shoulder as a precaution, but all she did was swallow hard and nod slightly. "Worry about it later. You... you've made your point." One hand came up to rest against one cheek, which was amazingly flushed and pale at the same time.
Her eyes fluttered shut as her breathing became even more harsh. She leaned into his touch, not caring or even really noticing the rush of emotions she was picking up. She wanted what little comfort she could allow herself. She knew she shouldn't, but she was unable to prevent herself from drifting off into slumber, her body demanding she rest for a while as it fought its own battle for survival.
"Alyx? Damn it, Alyx, don't do this." Darien tried in vain to wake her, wanted to shake her till her eyes opened, wanted to fix everything and make it all better. He pressed gentle fingers to her throat to find her pulse. It was far from the slow and steady beat he'd felt one or twice before. Her breath wheezing in and out harshly did not help his confidence any, either.
She was going to die, and he was going to have to sit here and watch it happen. Part of him wasn't surprised; in fact, he'd kind of been expecting something like this to happen all along. It was just the way his life went, especially with women. The only one to have stayed around recently was the one he hadn't really wanted -- Claire.
The door to the room slid open then and Claire entered, but not alone. There were two others with her, one of whom was pushing a metal cart laden with various pieces of equipment, only few of which he recognized. The other was, much to his surprise, Hobbes.
"How ya doing, Fawkes?" Hobbes asked and waved for Darien to move away from the bed so that Claire and the other doc could get to work.
Darien sank onto one of the chairs at the small table, where the various amusements were currently stacked. "Oh, just great, Hobbes."
"She'll make it, Fawkes. She's more than tough enough to fight off a little cold." Hobbes' attempt to make Darien feel more at ease about the situation fell flat. "It's taking longer than we thought to get people to cough up any info. We think they'd rather have the two of you out of the game than admit they screwed up."
"So what do we do? Claire apparently can't fix this, not in time anyway. Hell, I can't leave in case I infect the entire city with this damn bug, and I can't just watch...." He stopped, refusing to complete that thought.
"If we can get into that case safely, everything Claire needs is inside. That's why that mook came in with the fancy camera. There are intact samples. Of course, the bomb is still working just fine, too. These damn electronic ones are a bitch to deal with." Hobbes watched a faint look of hope cross Darien's features. "What?"
"Damn. I am an idiot sometimes. Hobbes, if I give you a list, do you think you can get me some gear?" He looked right into Hobbes' eyes. "Some of the pieces are less-than-legal."
Understanding dawned. "You think you can crack that code?"
Darien shrugged. "Will it hurt to try? Look at her, Hobbes, do you really think she's gonna make it if I don't?" He tipped his head to the side. "'Sides, I do have some experience cracking complicated locks."
"Huh. All right. Give me the list and I'll see what I can do," Hobbes answered, actually feeling a bit more confident as Darien grabbed the pen and paper that sat on the table and began writing. When he handed it over a few minutes later, it had a list of everything he could possibly need.
Hobbes looked it over, shooting a look or two of surprise at Darien, then nodded. "I can probably get most of this, but it'll take a few. I should have it by morning."
Darien turned to look at the pair working on Alyx.
Hobbes got to his feet. "Is there anything you need? Maybe some real food? I know, some chicken soup from my deli. They lace it with garlic and the matzo..." He attempted to kiss his fingers but only smashed them into the heavy plastic of the mask, causing Darien to smile. "It'll do more good for you than the anti... whatevers the Keep keeps going on about."
Darien did an internal check and decided that might not be a good idea about now. He was still feeling crappy enough to want to steer clear from even semi-solid food. "No thanks, Hobbes, better wait till the Keep says it's okay."
"True. I'll get to work on this. The Fat Man is gonna love this solution." Hobbes made it plain that was far from the truth.
"Bobby, unless he can get the code, there is no choice. I need those samples as soon as possible." Claire had moved over to join them, and Darien realized the suits' radios must be on the same frequency.
"I'll do my best Claire, but you know how he can be." Hobbes could see the worry on Claire's face, and had overheard most of the conversation between her and Dr. Kent. Alyx was a mess and had yet to hit the worst of it. "I'll get the gear one way or another by morning." Hobbes made his decision. He'd do it for Fawkes, so how could he do less for the kid?
"Thanks, Bobby," Darien said softly. "Now get moving." He pointed at the door, and Hobbes grinned and did as ordered. When Hobbes was gone and the door once again sealed, Darien turned to Claire.
"I need to examine you as well," Claire said to him as he focused on her.
"Yeah, okay." He moved over to the bed and they went through the routine. When she drew the blood, he hissed in pain. "Gonna have to poke someplace else next time, Keep. My arms are getting damn sore."
"Sorry, but it's necessary." Claire marked the test tube and then set the sample on the tray next to the three they had taken from Alyx. "How are you feeling? The truth."
"'Bout the same as lunchtime. Less nausea. Bit of a headache to go with the rest. Not too bad, considering everyone else is dead." All true; he didn't understand why he was feeling as well as he was and didn't really care. "Alyx?"
"Not good. We're giving her what help we can, but it will only prolong the inevitable at this point," Claire answered truthfully.
"Prolong is good." He met Claire's eyes. "Tell me you can fix this. That when I get that damn case open, you can make her better."
"And what about you?" Claire asked in curiosity.
"What about me? I'm not the one looking half-de...." He choked off the word, not able to say it. To make it real.
Claire just nodded. "She'll be in and out of consciousness. Try not to worry too much. Someone will be on call for emergencies." Claire was planning on saying more, but Dr. Kent got her attention just then.
"She's coming around, Dr. Keeply."
There might have been only a few feet separating the beds, but Darien still got there first and took an overly-warm hand into his.
Alyx tried swim up from the depths her mind had fallen into. It was so damn hot. Heat and.... flames everywhere. It was odd to be dreaming about flames, fire, and she hated it. Hated the images and memories, already stirred up by her conversation days before with the Keeper, which surged closer to the surface. Though why she seemed to be standing in forest that was nothing but flames confused her. That was not a typical scenario of her dreams, nor were the man-shaped pyres, though the scents and screams were all too familiar. When a burning car suddenly made an appearance, she fled from it, her eyes snapping open and her entire body jerking in reaction.
Darien saw her regain consciousness with a suddenness that was shocking. The look of momentary horror in her eyes was frightening to him and made him wonder what had been going on in her mind as they tried to bring her back to reality. "Hey, easy there. It's all right."
Alyx could feel everything he was through the hand wrapped coolly about hers. Then she suddenly got more than she expected. It had happened on a couple of other occasions, which she'd told no one about, and she had learned that she could not stop it, could not fight it, and was forced to simply let the impressions roll across her. Right now she didn't even have the energy to complain about it, could barely understand it. She got just enough to know Darien would be okay, would walk away from this and get on with his life, would survive to fight another day. She whimpered, trying to pull her hand out of his, to break off the flood of information, but couldn't.
"Alyx, relax, you're stable for now," Claire said in a calm voice.
"Shot," Alyx croaked out, her throat incredibly sore.
"I've given you several that should help you fight this," Claire began to explain, but Alyx shook her head, stopping quickly when it made her nauseous. "What then?"
"Darien needs a shot," Alyx explained.
"Huh?" Darien glanced at his wrist and saw he had four remaining green. "She's right." He showed Claire.
Alyx struggled to sit up a bit more. It felt like she was trying to breathe underwater, and Dr. Kent adjusted the pillows behind her until she was partially sitting. "Get him out of here."
"What?" both Claire and Darien asked at the same time.
"He's fine, and he doesn't need to watch ... this." Alyx waved her other hand slightly, rattling the cable that still chained her to the case. "Run the blood test. You'll see."
Darien caught the look between the two of them. After a second, Claire nodded slightly. "Let me verify it first."
"I'm not leaving," Darien proclaimed.
Claire grabbed him by the upper arm and dragged him away from Alyx, who sighed in relief to have his hold upon her hand loosened. To have the stream of thoughts and emotions stopped for the moment.
"Darien, if she's right and you're fine, there is no reason for you to stay." Claire got him to focus on her. "And every reason for you to leave."
"No, damn it," he snapped at a harsh whisper. "The Fat Man ordered me to protect her, to keep her alive at any cost, and I intend to do that." He saw Claire's look tighten and knew she was going to argue. "I have to stay till Hobbes brings the gear. I'm probably the only one who might stand a chance of getting her out of that thing." He didn't give her the chance to make any commentary about his skills. He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. "Damn it, Claire, I'm not giving her up without a fight."
"All right," Claire relented, "but you are getting a shot of counteragent now." He could help care for Alyx, although she could probably argue the point about him getting her free of the cuff. "Go on. I know you want to go worry at her."
Darien did just as she said and perched on the edge of the bed, with Alyx's hand once again in his.