Beyond the Horizon

46. Outbreak

Nezumi reclined against the bars of his cage and watched the lab techs bustle about outside, confirming the faces and routines that he had already committed to memory. They worked in shifts, and although he only had a few days of watching, he was certain that he had the comings and goings down pat. The employees' schedules appeared to be identical each day. In fact, pretty much everything in Section F was routine. The employees clocked in a little after nine; at ten he was brought a meal of rice, beans, mixed veggies, and apple slices (which, after days of starvation under Rashi's care, felt like a feast); at two a lab tech or two would escort him to a conference room on the floor below and let him stretch his legs for a half hour before returning him to his cage to stew; then dinner of a small salad and a heel of bread at five, and lights out at eight. He was told he'd have shower privileges granted by next week.

          They never blindfold him on the walk across the floor and down the stairs to the conference room, which seemed very, very stupid on their part. Obviously, the lab monkeys were not given the same training as the officers.

          The techs didn't like taking him out, but either they had a sliver of humanity left that compelled them to not leave his muscles to atrophy in monotonous limbo, or they had been ordered to keep to the schedule, and so they obeyed their overlord like mindless sheep. Either way, Nezumi had been given the perfect opportunity for manipulation and imminent escape. If there was a god, it looked like they had decided it was high time they cut Nezumi a break.

          The day after Nezumi had been unceremoniously dumped in Section F, he had the opportunity to isolate and interrogate Annie again. Of course, she just thought it was a friendly chat, and Nezumi had to keep his tone and topics light to keep her suspicions unaroused. But as innocuous as the conversation seemed, he was able to glean valuable information.

          The girl had confirmed in as many words that the boss of Section F was, in fact, the mad doctor Nezumi had the displeasure of meeting semi-regularly. Though, she also mentioned the Lab's CEO in the same breath. Apparently, the command of Horizon Laboratories was a two-headed snake. Technically, the CEO was in charge of the operations, but he seemed more of the figurehead, rather than the mastermind. Annie placed much more emphasis on the doctor, and it was apparent Section F mainly took orders from him, and only approached the CEO when their usual boss was indisposed.

          And the doctor had been indisposed now for days.

          Nezumi got an impression of this from Annie's nail picking and uncertain smiles during Nezumi's probing into her boss's schedule, but the more conclusive evidence came from his escorts to and from exercise. The people changed every day, but they all grumbled constantly about the scramblers, whined about the doctor's continued absence and unresponsiveness, and generally acted like Nezumi wasn't a human being with working ears and a motive to misbehave.

          Which was fine. Nezumi's favorite people were ignorants and idiots; his suggestions sunk into their brains like a knife through butter.

          With what Annie had insinuated and the other techs broadcasted, Nezumi was pretty certain that he had Lab Coat to thank for his current setup. It made sense now that the doctor had been distracted while performing his discharge check up. Whatever the man had become obsessed with must have already consumed him at that point. Nezumi was marked for transfer to Section F, where Lab Coat's main office was located, so perhaps the man had had plans for him at the initial request, but he had since lost interest. Perhaps he never gave the instructions for Nezumi's placement and the techs improvised. Or perhaps the man had dumped the transfer's execution on a colleague or the CEO and that person was too far removed from Project Valiant to make appropriate arrangements for a superhuman. Or maybe the doctor had just stopped caring about Nezumi, believed him broken and useless and no longer a threat, and just stuffed him in a corner where he couldn't cause trouble and would soon be forgotten.