Panoptic

Panoptic - Chapter 02

 From around the corner of the labs he heard them, the howls of a woman in pain. Caution told him to slow down, back away, avoid trouble. Caution told him to mind his own skin.

He ignored it.

He followed the trail of ripped grass and turf. He followed the woman's anguished cries. He turned the final corner, and froze.

He'd found the Gell Shield guards.

The car tracks ran west, in a wobbly line to the edge of the company's private grove. They terminated in a grey green army jeep, circa World War II. He saw a tight group of guards clustered around the halted jeep, waving their batons and cursing. He couldn't see their captive, but he could hear her. She wailed like a cat in an oven.

His trained eyes saw the jeep and the huddle of guards as a foreground; in the background of the picture lay the grove. The trees gleamed against the dark, lit by halogen beams set in the soil. They made a shining semicircle, framing New Verity's prize creation. He couldn't see it, but for a flash of vivid pink when one of the guards shifted on his feet, but he knew it was there. The picture was framed by earth and sky, grass as black as space.

Again, the itch. His fingers longed for the camera.

He had a perfect opportunity. He'd known he'd have to evade the guards, and he'd come prepared to make a distraction, at least to take their attention off the precious grove long enough for him to get what he'd come for. He hadn't expected anyone to beat him to it, and he had never imagined that his competitors would be so generous as to make a diversion for him. The stalled jeep and its yowling occupant had the guards all in a bundle.

It was a perfect opportunity.

All he had to do was walk around, staying in the shadows between the fence and the lighted path, and Gell Shield would never know he'd been there. That was a benefit worth paying for; the firm was always getting sued by someone. Excessive force. Brutality.

The screams continued to sound in his ears. They set his teeth on edge, and made his heart shudder.

"It's not my fault," he muttered.

No one answered him.

"I didn't ask you to come. I didn't want you to come."

The screams dwindled to silence.

"What am I supposed to do, anyway? I don't have a gun, and if I tried to use one, I'd probably blow off my own ear."

A warm breeze moved through the trees, making the leaves rustle, and carrying the scents of sap and the perfume of cherries. Left alone with his heart, Soro sighed.

"I hope I live to regret this," he said.

Whatever was going on at the jeep, he was sure the Gell Shield boys wouldn't shoot their captive out of hand.

Kind of sure.

...

He walked to the front doors of the labs, careful to stay out of the line of the cameras. He might have to play the hero, but he wouldn't play the stupid hero.

He crept up to the double doors, which some convenient, helpful guard had left open, peered inside at the blue carpets, cream walls and white Styrofoam ceiling tiles, and spotted the telltale nozzle of a sprinkler set in the ceiling. Nearby he saw the round, flying saucer shaped smoke detector.

Grinning, he pulled a long yellow tube out of his pocket, and twisted the end.

The yellow tube grew hot.