"Sorry, come again?"
"Doctor Cain's been shot."
Sigmund's first reaction was to scold the young technician for such an inappropriate joke; but the strange hush that had settled over the lab behind him, the way he stared at the floor—could it be? He fought down the impulse to leap from his chair and took a few steadying breaths.
He was just here. My friend. Whoever has done this . . . He felt the heat in his blood, the strength in his body urging him to respond. This is not the time.
"Where did you hear this?"
"Adewale at the front desk; he heard it from Mister DeWitt and locked the entrances. It was right outside the—"
This is real. "What's his condition?"
"—lab, what if the shooter's still out th—"
"Jacob!" The young man stiffened as though slapped across the face. "Take a breath. We're safe, Mister DeWitt and the rest of security are on the job, I'm sure. Any word on his condition?"
"I don't know." Jacob swallowed hard. "They don't know. Mister DeWitt is taking him to the hospital."
Of course nobody knows yet, but the distraction helps, doesn't it? Sigmund nodded; his phone rang; the sudden noise nearly scaring the skin off Jacob. "Why don't you take a seat for a moment. This will likely be the security team."
He brought the phone to his ear.
"Doctor Doppler, this is Ibrahim Bakari."
"Mister Bakari—I take it this is regarding the shooting?"
"It is. I've just received word from Preston that Doctor Cain's unconscious but alive. They're nearly to the hospital. They'll need to get a better look at him, but Preston doesn't think the wound's dangerous."
Oh, thank God. "Good. And the shooter?"
"We've found him. The body was dissolving from the inside out when we got there."
Sounds like something only the Remnant would have access to, which is why he's not speculating. He remembered Jacob sitting nearby, nerves already shot. Keep that to yourself.
"I see. Any recommendations for us?"
"Sicario usually work alone, so we don't expect to find anybody else, but we're performing a sweep of the grounds anyway. Tell everyone to shelter in place. When we're sure it's clear, we'll send someone to bring you to the hospital."
"Understood. Thank you, Mister Bakari." He set the phone back in its cradle and looked back out at the lab; a semicircle had formed around his door just far enough to be respectful but too close not to be listening in.
"What did he say?" Jacob asked.
Sigmund rose from his chair, briefly catching sight of his hands; he was furious and frightened, yet they did not shake. Just like the Exclusion Zone raid. He stepped out onto the lab floor, clearing his throat overloud. "May I have everyone's attention, please?"
The murmuring stilled; dozens of pairs of tired eyes searched his face.
"Doctor Cain has indeed been shot; but he is alive and nearly to the hospital. I am told the wound is minor. As for the shooter responsible, he was killed as our security personnel tried to capture him. They want us to shelter in place to stay out of their way while they sweep the campus, but they do not believe there's any active danger."
The relief was palpable. The murmur resumed, less dour.
"Security will send personnel around to let us know when they've finished their sweep, and I'll be going to visit Doctor Cain. But for the time being, I'd like everyone here to wrap up whatever you've been working on and relax until then; we were all tired to the point of delirious before this happened, can't imagine this has done us any favors, and that would show in your work if we pressed through."
He turned to Jacob, clapped him on the shoulder. "You going to be okay?"
"I think so, thank you, Doctor." He was hesitating to say something.
"Yes?"
"What about you? I know you and Doctor Cain have been friends a long time."
Sigmund managed a smile. "It's not the first time he and I have been through something like this. I know he'll pull through, but thank you for your concern."
Jacob nodded and rejoined the crowd; Sigmund slipped back into his office, slowly closed and locked the door, and drew the blinds.
Having said all that, we have crossed the last line there was left to cross as far as the Remnant is concerned. This is probably just the beginning. You know that, don't you Eusebio?
He dimmed the lights in his room and resolved to try for a much needed power-nap rather than pull out his hair until he got the call. Recognizing the surrender of the mind, the body flooded it with accumulated exhaustion and dragged him to the border of waking and sleep. The last errant threads of his consciousness wove a vision of a world divided by faith, fear, and memories of the greatest dying in human history; the new race of 'reploids' soon to be born opening their eyes on the worst of mankind. Perhaps, if X could find his voice, it was not yet too late to stem the tide.
If not . . .
It was a mercy when Sigmund finally fell fully to sleep.