Waking Gods (Themis Files #2)(57)

— …

—Dr. Franklin, why are you looking at me that way?

—I don’t think we have enough time.

—Unless you can present me with an alternate course of action, it would seem preferable to “chance it” than to simply sit here and wait for what you described as a very unpleasant experience.

—The clean room. It’s glass-enclosed.

—Are you confident it will isolate us from the gas?

—I don’t know. It’s rated for biosafety level 3—

—Are you certain we cannot reach the main building in time?

—Pretty sure.

—Then to the clean room we go.

—Follow me … In here. Once both doors are sealed, nothing should get in or out. The gas will have to go through the glass walls to get to us.

—Is there not a ventilation system?

—I shut it down. We’ll run out of breathable air after a few hours, but that should be long enough for the gas to dissipate.

—Carbon dioxide poisoning seems preferable to what the alien agent will do to us.

—Don’t you have anything nice to say?

—You and I have read the same reports, you have talked to the survivors. They tried to do exactly what we are doing now, and they could not escape the gas. Besides, there are at least half a dozen doors between here and the outside world. If the gas reaches this far, I fail to see how one layer of glass will make a difference. What is so special about it?

—It’s thick. It’s … I have no idea, but you can let loose a deadly airborne disease in there and it’ll contain it. It has to work.

—I am happy to see you have a newfound will to live.

—Like you said, it’s a bad way to go … Not like that. I’d also like to talk to that friend of yours.

—I can call him now if you wish.

—Why don’t we wait until this is over? I hope my staff made it to UN Headquarters.

—They are young. They can run the whole way. I believe they will make it.

—I hope they made it two minutes ago. Look at the main door.

—It is also coming in through the walls.

—It won’t be long before it fills the lab completely.

—I hope this glass will be more efficient than the laboratory walls.

—It’s very expensive glass—

—Let us hope our tax dollars have been wisely spent. I would hate for us to perish because someone saved a few pennies on substandard materials.

—We’ll know soon enough, there’s gas all around us now … See! I told you we’d be safe in here.

—Look down, Dr. Franklin.

—No! It’s seeping in through the floor!

—And now through the glass.

—No it’s not!

—Look closer.

—How does it … ? I thought—

—It was a good idea Dr. Franklin. Come sit with me.

—It’s coming in slowly.

—Indeed, this glass is slowing down the gas considerably. It was well worth the price you paid.

—I mean it’s really slow! We might have enough time. It takes— —Dr. Franklin, it takes hours for the gas to dissipate. Even at this rate, we might have … ten, twenty minutes before it fills this room.

—Maybe if I turn on the ventilation—

—Dr. Franklin—

—There’s got to be—

—Dr. Franklin!

—I don’t wanna die!

—I know. Come sit with me over here.

—It seems I won’t get that meeting with your … friend after all.

—Perhaps not. Is there anything you want to know that I might be able to answer?

— …

—Dr. Franklin?

—What? There are … There are so many things I wanna know.

—We may not have time for so many things. If you could only ask one question, what would it be?

—That’s easy. Who are you? Who do you work for?

—I said one question.

—I—

—It does not matter. The answer to both questions is really one and the same. I am … no one.

I was a college professor. I taught American literature at Montgomery College. I was … I was a different person. I married really young. My wife wanted me to become a writer. I never … She died of cancer when our son was twelve years old.

—I’m sorry.

—That is kind of you. It was a difficult time. I was not the worst father that ever lived, but I certainly was not good enough to raise a young man on my own. Henry, my son, seemed to forgive my shortcomings easily. We had a good relationship for a while. Parents feel a great deal of responsibility for the way their children turn out, but there is very little a parent can do that will remotely rival the influence a friend or lover can have. My son met a girl when he was fifteen, the daughter of a US senator. Nice girl, a year older than him. I thought she would be a good influence on him. My son turned out to be a bad influence on her. He had tried drugs before, but he could not afford an addiction. I had chosen to keep the house after my wife died—I wanted some stability for my son—and there was little money left after the mortgage. But she had money—her parents did. Two rebellious teenagers in love, with what must have seemed like unlimited means. A few months later, they were but shadows of themselves. I thought cocaine would claim the life of my son, but it was alcohol that did it. They got into a head-on collision with a drunk driver on their way to the video store.