Acidalia XI-B
By Amanda D

5pm PDT Grayson:

Charles Jordon, Colonel in the United States Army and head of USAMRID, not to mention point man in the fight against Acidalia, sat behind his desk in the onetime civilian laboratory listening to the melodic sounds of Nirvana’s “Lake of Fire” as it played on the radio. The song its self wasn’t all that soothing, with its lyrics about evil people burning in hell, but listening to music had always relaxed him. Nowadays he need all the relaxation he could slip in, and turning on the small radio behind the desk and closing his eyes while the music played was about the best he could ask for lately.

As always, a knock on his office door interrupted his brief interlude of peace. Opening his eyes he glanced at the clock on the wall to his right. ‘Not bad, fifteen minutes between emergencies. Must be a slow day,’ he mused silently before calling out “Enter” to the knocker.

“Colonel.” LT. Colonel Tyler said as he entered and saluted his superior.

Jordon returned the salute, “What do you have for me tonight, Tyler?”

The junior officer stepped over and placed a large manila folder on the colonel’s desk.

“What’s this?”

“All the detainees from Reynolds have arrived. We’ve got them all processed and they’re housed as best as we could manage. The file has all their names, new and former. It’s also got whatever basic information they were willing to give when they were interned at Reynolds. They’ve been issued temporary ID tags, with trace chips inside to help us monitor their whereabouts at all times while they’re here.”

“Good. I’m glad to see that Dr. Stanley has decided to cooperate with us for once. It’s a pleasant change of pace to say the least,” Jordon replied as he began to thumb through the folder. “I trust everyone is reasonably comfortable down there.”

“Dr. Grayson’s not too happy about having a bunch of new roommates, but she’ll survive, I suspect.”

“Yes I’m sure she will. How many are in there with her?”

“Ten is all we could reasonably fit, with the baby being there and all. The rest are in lab four. We’ve restricted access to the entire floor to try to keep risk of infecting the rest of the staff to a minimum.”

“Make sure everyone is aware of the restriction. Tell Ryan to include it in his morning staff meeting. We don’t need to have any more of our researchers getting firsthand experience with the bug.”

“Will do, sir.” Tyler he jotted a note in his ever-present note book.

“Since this is only temporary, the risk of infection should be minimal if everyone follows the infection protocols.”

“It’s not? I thought they were here for our doctors to do research on.”

“That was never the plan. Not for all of them anyhow. Those women are going to get a military readiness screening and physical evaluation tomorrow starting at 08:00. The ones that come back as physically capable, and get a pass from the shrinks are being shipped out to Rawlings up in Nebraska on Monday.”

“Rawlings? The Air Force testing range? I thought they closed it down because of soil contamination.”

“Our Commander in Chief, or someone on his staff more likely, has got it their mind that these infectee’s abilities might have a potential military use. So they’ve decided to try and make soldiers out of them. They’ve ordered it reopened and had a training center set up for them. It’s far enough out of the way that no one will stumble on to them accidently while they’re up there. The contamination story has kept the locals out of there since the place was officially closed down, so they should have all the privacy they need. That’s the hope anyhow.”

“Soldiers? They can’t be serious.”

“They are.”

“Most of those women have had it pretty bad over at Reynolds. I don’t see them volunteering to be military personnel.”

“I’ve been told they’re going to serve regardless. Consider it a draft, I suppose.”

“A draft? Is that legal?”

“Does it really matter anymore? Fuller and his people are calling the shots, and the Senate and House are falling over themselves to rubber stamp whatever the White House tells them needs to be done. None of the damn politicians want to be seen as the one that got in the way of finding a cure for the bug, or caused us to lose the standoff with the U.N. It’s bad for votes.”

“Still I…”

“I hear you, Tyler, but there’s nothing we can do about. The decision came from way above our pay grade. It doesn’t matter much now, anyhow. From what I’m being told we’re just a few days, maybe a couple weeks at the most from Fuller instituting martial law nationwide. Once that happens, all civil liberties will be suspended anyhow, so if they’re jumping the gun a bit by sending them now, what difference is it going make? In the end, those women downstairs and any others we uncover are going to be sent to Rawlings, because that’s what the people in charge want.”

While Tyler understood that the orders would have to be followed regardless of how he personally felt about them, he also genuinely felt that these people, who had done nothing other than have the misfortune of losing the viral lottery, had been through enough already at the hands of Brady and Stanley. Their fate could just as easily been anyone’s, and forcing them serve in the military was just asking for trouble. The last thing anyone needed at this point was more problems.

“Colonel, I understand that these are our orders, but in my opinion this is going to create more problems than it solves. If these people have the abilities to do what we’ve been told they can, they can make a lot of trouble for whoever’s in charge of training them if they’re so inclined, and I believe they will be. Besides, the government has been preaching for months that in the name of public safety, anyone that’s infected needs to be quarantined, but now they’re going to let these few out because it suits their needs? What kind of message is the President sending to the civilian population?”

“As you just said those are our orders. It’s our job to obey them. It’s the Presidents job to explain his decisions to the public.”

“Wasn’t General Alexander operating under Presidential orders too sir? Where did that get him? Suspended, and probably a court-martial, that’s what. Do you think for a second they won’t do the same to you or me if this blows up in their faces too?”

Jordon glared at his right hand man. “You’re coming dangerously close to insubordination you know,” he informed Tyler. “We have our orders, and we are going to follow them because that’s what we do, regardless of how we may feel personally. At this level of command we don’t go against the government. We do as we’re told to maintain the chain of command. How would it look to the men doing the dirty work on the street if we chose to not listen to a direct order? Why would they feel compelled to do as we say, if we don’t do as our superiors tell us?’ he fumed. “Now your job is to make sure our guests are tested and shipped out on time, and keep your damn mouth shut about the rest.”

“Yes sir.” Tyler replied through gritted teeth.

Jordon turned his attention back to the folder he had been handed. As he began reading over the assessments Dr. Stanley had supplied, he became aware that Tyler was still standing in front of his desk.

“Was there something else?” he asked.

“Yes sir, there was. As you ordered, I’ve been trying to track down the packages we sent out last month, and I’ve come across some extremely disturbing information.”

“Just what we need, more problems.” Jordon said with exasperation. “So tell me what you’ve found.”

“I’ve discovered that a large number of them are missing.”

“Missing? What do you mean they’re missing?”

“I contacted every operative on the list we received and requested the confirmation of delivery code that each one was assigned when we sent them out. There were one hundred and thirty five names on the list. Out of that, only eighty have confirmed delivery. The others claim to have no knowledge of them.”

“How can that be? General Alexander supplied us with a copy of his master list. He was in charge of the production and delivery. I have the signed chain of possession forms right here. They were tracked very carefully, every step of the way. How could they not be where they say they are?”

“I understand that, sir. I’ve put every man we can spare onto tracking them down, but so far no luck.”

“We don’t need luck, we need answers. There’s no chance the ones that denied receiving them are lying?”

“I don’t see why they would. We’ve been using the proper ID codes for the orders. If they had been changed for some reason, none of them would have replied. Besides, I can’t see forty five different agents in as many countries all deciding at the same time to disobey orders. One or two rogues, maybe but not that many.”

“Yes, I see your point.” Jordon said miserably.

This was a disaster of unimaginable proportions. The thought of what could happen if the packages had fallen into the wrong hands made him shudder involuntarily.

“We need to find out where they went, and find out fast. We can’t have any virus packages left unaccounted for. Get on it. Make it your highest priority, Tyler. Take whatever you need for resources. I don’t care what else suffers, just find them.”

“How deep should I dig? If I rattle too many cages it’s going to attract a lot of unwanted attention.”

“I don’t care about that. The time for stealth is over. Do what you have to do. If anyone questions your interest, just direct them to me. I’ll handle the flak. You just find out where they went.”

***********

Sunday August 14 2:30pm Reynolds:

The sun shone brightly high in the cloudless sky on the delightfully warm late spring afternoon. Birds sang loudly enough to be only marginally over powered by the laughter of the girls as they chased newly emerged colorful butterflies. Fish jumped from the waters of the small pond that lay down the small grass covered hill from where she stood taking the whole scene in. All and all, it was the perfect day for a family outing.

Off to her right stood Yvonne, smiling as she called Melanie and Michele to come help her for a moment. The woman that used to be their father grinned and giggled as quietly as she could manage as she watched them go about the business of setting the picnic blanket up with something less than military precision. The large piece of cloth seemed to consciously fight the three of them, as the slight breeze would continuously catch one corner or another, sending it fluttering. After a short time she walked over and after good naturedly ribbing the girl’s mother, she asked if they would like some assistance in helping to tame the beast.

The four of them each took a corner and laughed hysterically as they pounced on it, finally landing the stubborn thing. Good times.

She knew from the moment it began, the dream had come to haunt her once again. Still, the knowledge didn’t stop her from hoping that this time it would be different, and she was really there with them, enjoying the day with them one last time. This day had been the last time the whole family had been out together, just enjoying each other’s company and having fun.

It had been the last time they had been truly happy as far as she could remember, a week before anyone outside NASA or an advanced astronomy class had heard of the word Acidalia. Before she got sick and was separated from those she loved most. Before life in the quarantine had done everything it could to strip away her humanity. Before Brady or Stanley and the constant mental and physical torture they had inflicted on her.

Back in the dream, the four of them ate their boxed lunches, seated facing on another on the red and white checkered blanket. The girls chattered about the latest doll they just had to have and the newest bubble gum boy band CD they needed more than life itself as they ate their sandwiches. Yvonne and Thomas nodded at the appropriate times and in the right places, even though they weren’t always sure what the kids were talking about.

After they were finished, the four of them took a walk along the small duck pond in the center of the park.

The water was still too cold for swimming, so the girls threw stones into it instead. He, since that what she was in this dream, the Thomas she had been before, showed them how to make the rocks skip across the placid water. After a few tries Michele got the hang of it. She then spent the next half hour trying to teacher her younger sister before exasperation took its toll and she was forced to give up on the idea.

Thomas and Yvonne found a large rock to sit on as they watched the girls have fun. The adults held hands, kissed and enjoyed the closeness of the others bodies as much as the antics of their daughters.

A hurt filled squeal interrupted their snuggling time. Thomas watched as her wife went down to comfort Melanie who had fallen on some stones and was complaining loudly. She smiled as Yvonne cleaned the dirt off the five year old’s hands and kissed the small scrape on the youngster’s knee.

“Thomas?” A loud voice called out.

Startled, the new woman looked all around in the dream, but couldn’t identify the source of the familiar sounding voice. Though she couldn’t quite remember whose voice it was, something deep inside Thomas told her it was someone she had no interest in speaking to. That, coupled with her desired to stay with Yvonne and the girls made the dreaming woman choose to ignore it. Whatever they wanted would need to wait, she decided. This was time for her to be with her family once again. Even knowing it was a dream, she was determined to relish every moment of it.

“Thomas? Can you hear me?” the same voice called out a second time.

This time the intruding sound was accompanied by a blindingly bright light that shown directly in her eye, overpowering the sun in the dream. She tried to squeeze her eyes shut but something held one of them open.

The urge to shout “Go away!” was hard to resist, but Thomas didn’t want to upset her happy family by yelling.

Desperate to stay with them, Thomas put all her effort into focusing on where she was and ignoring the intruding light. The dream began to waver and fade before she felt whatever held her eye open let go and she was able to will it back into focus.

Back in the dream, with little Mel settled down, Yvonne started back up the rocky beach towards where Thomas sat waiting. God she loved her so much it hurt, and it was a pain she would gladly give anything to keep right on feeling.

Having visited this dream God only knew how many times before; Thomas knew her time with them was beginning to run short. Very soon the girls would go off to play with another group of kids they met. With Michele and Mel otherwise occupied and looked after, the two of them would sneak off into the woods and make love for what would turn out to be the last time.

“Thomas! I need to you respond if you can hear me!” the voice said again. This time the sound was followed with a pinching pain she felt in her left arm.

The sudden pain made the dream waver even more than the light had. All the colors started to fade and the details became less sharp. This time she didn’t hold back and yelled as loud as her burning throat would allow “Go away! Leave us alone!”

For a moment at least, that seemed to do the trick. Once again she fell contentedly into the dream.

She took Yvonne’s hand and the two of them started towards the woods behind where the girls were now playing. A huge smile of anticipation spread across her face as they stepped into the first row of trees.

Another burst of pain, this time much more than just a simple pinch seared its way across her abdomen. Yvonne and the grove of trees faded away as her eyes were forced open in response to the sudden agony.

“Nooooo!” she cried as her wife wafted away like a lifting fog and was replaced by the masked face of a quarantine doctor.

“Ahh. There you are. Nice to have you back amongst the living,” the masked face said.

“Yvonne!” she croaked desperately trying to hold on to her wife’s image as a tear trickled down her face.

“Yvonne? Who is Yvonne?” another voice from behind asked.

“I believe that was her wife’s name. She must have been dreaming or something.”

“I didn’t think it was possible to dream under the influence of Panderil.”

“Guess you were wrong.”

Thomas lay still, listening to the two masks talk to each other as if she wasn’t there. It was a survival tool she had learned at the expense of many pain filled sessions with Brady. It was always best to lay still and listen, take in whatever information you could glean, until they spoke directly to you.

“Thomas? Still with us?” the mask asked her.

Now she recognized the voice as belonging to Dr. Paula Stanley, the one person she might have hated more than Brady. It was too close to know for sure. Thomas glared at her, but said nothing.

“Not going to speak? Too good for us today?” Paula asked mockingly.

Thomas did everything she could to stare a hole through the whale of a woman, but refused to be baited into speaking until she was ready.

“Okay then, if that’s the way you want to be, so be it. I need to explain a few things to you before we try to get you up, so listen carefully. You’ve been under sedation for the better part of three weeks. We’ve done what we could to help you retain your range of motion, but your muscles are still going to feel very stiff. We’re going to try to get you up into a sitting position. We’re going to take it slow and easy. If you feel dizzy, or like you’re going to throw up, let us know and we’ll wait it out until you’re ready again. OK?”

“G’way. Le’ me lone. Hven ya dn nough ta me? Jus leave m be,” she said as the edge of grogginess continued to recede.

“Sorry, sweetie, we just can’t do that. We pulled your catheter about an hour ago, and if you don’t get up soon we’re going to have a pretty disgusting mess to clean up.”

Thomas could feel the heaviness in her full bladder. However the thought of doing anything these people wanted was so repulsive it made her content to mess herself if that’s what it came to.

“Ya betta get sme towels rdy, then,” was her reply.

Thomas could see Stanley’s frown even through the surgical mask she wore. She watched as the quarantine director turned her head and said “Dr. Green, could you give me a hand here?”

The second doctor stepped over and the two of them began to pull Thomas into a sitting position. The new woman tried to resist, but the combination of the drugs and the weeks of inactivity left her unable to put up much of a fight. Still, she tried her best to hinder them as much as she could.

“Thomas, stop fighting with us.” Stanley ordered. “Putting a lot of stress on your body isn’t good for the baby.”

‘Baby? What baby? There are no babies in this hell hole.’ Thomas thought silently as she was forcibly propped into an uncomfortable sitting position.

“There, was that so bad?” Stanley asked, breathing heavily from the strain. “How do you feel?”

Thomas felt like shit but she wasn’t about to share it with Stanley. Her stomach rolled with nausea and her back, arms and legs all burned from the small amount of exertion. She tried to swallow whatever it was that her belly was trying to reject but it was a battle she knew she was destined to lose very, very soon.

“Gonna throw up,” she groaned as she tried as hard as she could to swallow the rising gorge.

“Lean forward.” Dr. Green instructed.

Thomas wanted no part of doing anything that made the doctor’s lives easier, but the heaving forced her bend forward. As if brought by magic, a bucket appeared in front of Thomas just in time to catch the yellow watery substance that poured from her pissed off digestive track. The foul taste and rancid smell was enough to ensure that she would continue to retch long after there was nothing left to come up.

Finally her body relented and the stomach contractions let up, leaving her with a foul taste in her mouth and a burning sensation in her throat.

“Feeling better?” Stanley asked, handing Logan a towel.

“Little bit. Those drugs of yours are real a pleasure to down from,” she replied sarcastically as her head continued to clear.

“The drugs? I don’t think the drugs had much of anything to do with your vomiting. I’d say it’s more likely a touch of morning sickness that’s got your tummy upset. Once we’re done here I’ll have someone bring you a couple saltines. They should help settle your stomach.”

“Morning sickness? What the hell are you talking about?” Thomas demanded. A tingle of fear danced up her spine as wisp memory began to tickle the edge of her mind.

“Yes, morning sickness. It’s common in the first term of pregnancy. Since you’re just about a month along now, I’d say you’d better get used to it, because it’s probably not going to go away anytime soon. When you were out of it, your body didn’t respond to the nausea, but now that we had to bring you out of sedation because the drugs were affecting the fetus’ development, you’ll get to experience it in all its glory.”

“Pregnant?” Thomas repeated as the memory of being inseminated returned, hitting her like a sledge hammer. She shook her head, trying to deny the memory, hoping it was a half remembered dream, but there was no hiding from it since the doctor had already assured her it had really happened.

Still stiff, sore and a bit groggy, but recovering, Thomas jumped off the table and grabbed Stanley by the front of her lab coat. Pushing as hard as she could manage the expectant mother bounced the fat doctor off the wall behind where she had been standing. Sticking her face right up against the doctor’s she screamed, “What have you done? Tell me! What the hell have you done to me?”

Dr. Stanley shrieked and turned pale as a sheet as she struggled to free herself from Logan’s vice-like grip. The memory of what had happened to Brady the last time this woman got out of control played across her mind over and over like a looped horror movie.

The weeks of inactivity had destroyed Thomas’ stamina, however, and almost as soon as the new woman grabbed the doctor her strength drained away and her head began to spin like an out of control top. As much as she wanted to just throttle the woman, Thomas had to let go.

Staggering back a couple steps, Thomas bumped into the table. She turned around and leaned heavily on it as the doctor held a hand to her throat and gasped, “There … there’s no reason to get upset.”

“What the hell do you mean, ‘There’s no reason to get upset?’ Are you fucken kidding me? Tell me why I shouldn’t be upset? I mean you only did the next best thing to having me raped for Christ’s sakes! I should kill you for what you’ve done!” Thomas growled as she tried to catch her breath.

“Raped? Now, now Ms. Logan let’s not start with those kind of accusations. Nothing we’ve done is even remotely close to rape. All we’ve done is impregnate you through standard in vitro-fertilization techniques. Rest assured no one forced intercourse on you or anything like that. It was all done within the strict medical guidelines approve by the American Association of Fertilization specialists.”

“And that supposed to make me feel better?” she asked sarcastically.

“I had hoped it might, but obviously I was wrong.” Paula said with growing anger and indignation in her voice. Exasperated, she said sternly, “Look here, Thomas, what’s done is done. At this point the only way out of it is to abort the fetus. If that’s what you want we can have it done within the hour.”

Thomas glared at the short fat doctor and seethed with impotent rage. She wanted nothing more than to kill Stanley for violating her body like this, but was far too warn out from weeks of sedation to take advantage of the doctor’s close proximity. If she could just find the strength to reach out and snap the fat woman’s neck she would die happy, but there was no way. It enraged her even more when she realized the next opportunity to get her might never come.

The abortion Dr. Stanley offered was out of the question. Thomas had always considered the procedure to be akin to murder. For years she had done everything she could to support those that sought to eliminate the laws that allowed it. Could she really consider going through one herself? This was obviously a choice she never thought she would have to make about her own body, and it brought the entire debate into a new perspective.

There was no easy answer, and being forced to make a decision like this made her outrage grow to epic proportions. “You … inhuman … monster! Who are you, to violate my body like this? Who gave you permission to do something like this to me? Tell me, you BITCH! Who do you think you are? God? Some kind of self deluded savior of man? What right do you have to force me to choose between what I want, and an unborn baby’s life?” Thomas hissed.

“Violate you? No one violated you. We are simply trying everything we can to ensure the continued existence of our species! I ask you now, who are you to stand in the way of that? Impregnating you and the others is the only way we can find out if it’s possible for male babies to still be born! So that’s what we did,” Stanley told her with an edge of indignation in her voice.

“What do you mean you’re only trying to see if males can still be born? If that’s all this is about, then why do I recall you saying something about wanting to find out if my abilities would be passed along to my offspring?”

“We … we wanted to know about that as well. You and the handful of others like you are genetic marvels …”

“Marvels? We’re human beings! Who the hell are you to make lab rats out of us? You the worst kind of … I can’t even come up with the right word to describe what you are. You’re like one of those Nazi scientists that experimented on the Jews.”

“I assure you that I am nothing like a Nazi …”

“You’re right, you’re much worse than they ever were. They could hide behind the claim that they were following orders. You … you’re doing this all on your own!”

“No I’m not! I’ve been ordered to do whatever is necessary to help with finding a cure for this virus! That includes research into what would happen if we can’t cure it!” Paula argued defensively.

“You say whatever you like, doctor, but I know the truth! You’re doing this because you like to. Does it make you feel powerful? Does it make you feel better about who you are? Does it excite you in ways you wouldn’t ever dare admit? Yes, that’s it. It does, doesn’t it? I bet when you’re in your quarters at night you masturbate over the new and inventive ways you’ve come up with to torture us.” Thomas stopped just long enough to see, written in Dr. Stanley’s eyes, how close to hitting the nail right on the head her words were, and it left her feeling even more disgusted and dirty.

“When the time comes, you’ll pay for what you’ve done here, mark my words! You’re going to pay dearly. You’ve done the impossible, doctor. You’ve made me wish that Brady was still in charge. At least with him, you always knew what to expect … where you stood. As demented an animal as he was, even he wouldn’t have allowed something like this, if only because it would have spoiled his fun.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have killed him!” Paul screamed back.

“Kill him? I didn’t kill him! All I did was give him a taste of what it feels like to catch the bug!”

“And he died as a result of the infection! Same thing as if you put a gun to his head in my book, Thomas!”

Paula could feel the conversation was on its way to degenerating into a confrontation that she was ill-prepared to deal with at the moment. The last thing she wanted was for Thomas to make her look even more impotent in front of one of her underlings.

In an effort to rein it back in, she calmed her tone and began again. “However, what’s done is done. There’s no use casting blame. To be honest, he probably deserved what happened. Either way, he’s dead and I’m in charge, and the way I see it you now have two choices. You can behave yourself and do as we instruct, and in eight months give birth to a hopefully healthy child or you can fight us. All that will accomplish is putting tremendous stress on your body most likely resulting in harm to the baby. Either way I’m going to make sure you carry it to term …I have too much invested in this to do anything else. So make your choice, but remember, Thomas, there’s much more at stake here than just your life.”

Thomas bristled at the truth in the doctor’s words. There was more than just her fate to be decided here. The life of a child, even an unwanted one, had to take precedence over her other concerns.

Mustering what strength she had left, the expectant mother again stepped up to Stanley’s face. Stabbing her finger into the director’s ample chest she warned “The next time we meet, I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done.”

A wave of terror washed over Dr. Stanley, making her bladder feel very heavy and her mouth as dry as the Sahara. She had to swallow several times before she worked up enough saliva to speak. “Then I’ll be sure to worry the next time.” she replied, surprised at the confident sound of her voice. “However for now these are some supplements you’ll need to start on. I’m going to have Dr. Green over there keep an eye on you until the drugs work their way out of your system to make sure there are no complications for you or the baby, so you might want to cooperate with him.”

Thomas took the pill bottles and set them down behind her. “Just get the fuck out of here.”

That was all Paula needed to hear. After a quick whispered word to Dr. Green, she snatched the few things she had brought in with her, nearly dropping several items in her haste and walked out the door. It was a struggle to resist the urge to run, but somehow she managed to stay in control just long enough to avoid the embarrassment that would have caused.

Once outside in the hallway, Paula strode purposefully to the elevators, making sure to avoid eye contact with anyone she passed lest they see how shaken up she really was. The fat doctor flexed her hands repeatedly in an effort to hide their shaking as she waited impatiently for the elevator to arrive. Time after time she stabbed at the call button, as if that would make the doors open more quickly. For a moment she contemplated taking the stair, but didn’t know if she would be able to hold it together long enough to make it all the way to her office.

After what seemed like an eternity the faint ding of the arrival bell sounded and the doors slid open. With no regard for decorum, she bolted inside and jammed her fat finger at the door close button. Not soon enough to suit her, they slid closed and the elevator started upwards.

Paula felt what little control she had been able to maintain completely slip away, as she began to shake and cry hysterically. Blinded by fear driven tears, her hand groped the control board looking for the stop button. It barely landed on it before her trembling legs gave way and she slid to the floor.

For several minutes she lay curled up in a ball quivering with terror and frustration.

Logan’s promise to kill her had shaken Paula to her very core. There was no way she would allow herself to be caught in the same room with her again. If she did, the director understood that it would be the last mistake she ever made.

In her mind’s eye she could still picture Brady lying on the floor, beaten to a pulp and bleeding from places she had never seen anyone bleed from before that day as Thomas sat contentedly on the exam table waiting to be taken away. It was a situation she wasn’t anxious to see repeated, especially with herself as the victim. The possibility had haunted her dreams and made her be sure to take no chances where Thomas was concerned.

Now all that caution and care had turned out to be for nothing. She wasn’t going to be able to be there as the research was being done. There was no way to have a real part in any of the practical discoveries. That upset Dr. Stanley almost as much, if not more than having her life threatened.

She would still take all the credit for whatever discoveries the team made, but it would be easier to justify if she could be there as they happened.

Sitting up, Paula hung her head between her knees as she fought to pull herself together. Breathing deeply and slowly, the doctor continued to wrack her brain for a way to reclaim control of the situation.

As always, focusing on finding a solution helped speed up the process of recovery. After another few moments she rose back to her feet and restarted the elevator. Instead of going up to her office, Paula pushed the down button as a sliver of an idea began to form.

Paula mused that a bodyguard might be a solution, but with Logan’s physical gifts what single person would be able to stop her if she got it her mind to do damage? None of the handful of enhanced new women that were left at the facility would take on the job. They all hated her as much, some even more, than Thomas did. Besides, Logan was something of a hero to the rest of the infectees imprisoned here that knew of her, and of the few that didn’t, none were even close to her power level.

There was, however, one person, if the idea was presented in the right way that might be interested in taking on Thomas if the situation came up. Approaching her would be risky to say the least. Most likely any proposal would be rejected out of spite, even if it enticed her, but it was the only solution she could come up with.

Time slipped by at an amazingly quick rate as Paula mulled over how best to present her pitch. Before she knew it she had arrived at her destination. Standing before the solid looking door to the small cell block that housed Brady and those like her that were just impossible to keep in general population, a small voice in her mind cried out for Paula to walk away and forget this insane idea.

Allowing Brady to roam the hallways free was only going to make things worse not better it argued. The threat she represented to Paula’s authority, her life and the very stability of the entire routine in the quarantine was simply too large to justify in any way whatsoever, however common sense wasn’t one of the doctor’s strong points today.

Ignoring the internal warning, Paula scanned her security badge and stepped through as the door hissed open.

The bare ivory colored walls and grey tile floors of the guard’s office which adjoined the small hallway that led to each of the individual cells reminded Paula of pictures she had seen when she was a little girl, of the inside of the state mental hospital that her father had worked at. She always thought the color scheme was rather appropriate for what this particular wing had been designated for.

To Dr. Stanley, the colors represented hopelessness and that was exactly what these inmates were, hopeless. There was no way to control any of these new women. No way they would allow themselves to work within the structure of the facility, and that made them all extremely dangerous, not only to the others infectees but to the guards and doctors as well.

This was her grand plan, to somehow convince the one time Major to help protect her from Logan. She didn’t know if Brady would be able to handle Thomas if it came down to that, but Brady was nothing if not crafty, and might just provide enough of a distraction to Logan for Paula to escape.

The very tall, incredibly strong looking, dark skinned guard poked his head out of the tiny office just as Paula entered the block. When he recognized who his visitor was, he stood up, and stepped out, “Good afternoon doctor.”

“How is our guest of honor doing today?” she asked.

He pointed at Brady’s cell. “She’s alive and kicking. And just as ornery as ever. No manners at all with that one.”

“Is she still refusing to let anyone in?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“I see. Can you give me a few minutes alone with her, please?”

“Of course. I’ll be right outside the door. If you need me, just hit the red button on the wall over there,” he told her as he pointed to it.

“Thank you.”

Once he was out of the room, Paula stepped over to the large glass wall that separated the cell from the hall way. Rather than install cameras inside each cell, each individual unit was designed with a thick one way mirrored Plexiglas wall to make monitoring easier. The walls also made it possible to speak face to face with the inmates without having to go inside and risk the possibility of infection of injury.

As it usually was, the hallway lighting was set dimmer than the light inside of each cell to allow the inmates to be looked in on without them knowing someone was there. Some had complained that it was an invasion of what little privacy they were allowed, but their protests always fell on deaf ears. Paula always justified them to anyone on the outside that asked, with several examples of contraband that had been supposedly removed during these observation sessions.

Inside, Brady was lying on the small grungy looking bed at the far end of the cell with her back turned to the wall so that no one could tell what she was doing. Paula looked over the rest of the trash filled cell. For the last week the Major had refused to let anyone inside to clean the cell and as a result the place was becoming a horrendous mess.

Turning up the lights so that Brady could see her, Paula tapped the intercom button on the wall and said “Major?”

Brady turned her head and raised a disinterested eyebrow at her visitor.

As she waited for Brady to say something in reply, Paula found she still couldn’t get over the changes the virus had brought to the once tall muscular and masculine, major. If she had been even a little bit social and not an infectee, this new woman could have been a model or perhaps even a movie star, at the very least, had her choice of any rich good looking guy she wanted. Her raven hair, even as dirty as it was, still looked like silk. Her smooth, almost porcelain white skin and deep blue eyes would be enough to make any man want to worship at her feet.

That is, … until she opened her mouth. “What the fuck do you want?” Brady growled as she turned back over and continued doing whatever it was she was up to

“I came to see how you were making out down here.”

The sound of a small chuckle came over the speaker, “I’m doing great. It’s like being on a constant vacation in here. Nothing to do but lounge around and talk to the guards. I’ve been trying to talk Henry into letting me out so he and I could go to the beach later, and I think he’s starting to crack. If I can talk him into it do you want to come? Do they make bathing suits in your size, or do you just wear a whale’s skin or something like that?”

“I see you still have your sense of humor,” she replied, declining to get into the insult fest these conversations usually degenerated into. “When are you planning on letting someone in there to clean up a bit, or do you like living in filth?”

“I’ll let you in here to clean up. Though, I can’t guarantee that you’ll leave under your own power.”

“I think I’ll pass on that one. I’ve already had my life threatened once today. You’ll have to wait in line.”

“Aww. Are the girls unappreciative of your particular brand of hospitality?”

“As much as they appreciated yours.”

Brady turned her head back in Paula’s direction. “Was there something you wanted?” she asked impatiently.

“I just thought you might like to know we brought Logan out of sedation this morning.”

“Guess there’s no need to ask who it was that threatened you, then. So why are you telling me this? Are you finally going to give her to me or something?”

“I was wondering if there was some way we could make a truce between us. I would like your help in keeping her in line.”

“My help? What could I possibly do? You were the one that insisted that I was no match for her now, so how could I hope to keep her in line?” Brady asked mockingly.

“I … I just thought you might be able to do something.”

The beautiful new woman got up and walked over to the glass barrier. Sitting down on her side of it, she cocked her head to the side and asked “What’s in it for me?”

“You’d be out of here, for starters.”

Brady leaned back in the chair and put her feet up on the small ledge under the glass, tucking her hands behind her head. “I don’t know. Paula.” She smiled at Dr. Stanley’s look over the use of her first name, “It’s kinda cozy in here. I get this whole place to myself, no one botherin me. Plenty of time to see what this bod of mine can do.” Moving closer to the glass and putting a hand to the side of her mouth, Brady said in a low tone of voice, “By the way, I have to say that we gal’s have it all over the boys in the big “O” department … if you get my meaning.”

Brady raised her eye brows and grinned at Stanley’s look of disgust.

“You’re nauseating,” she told her, stepping away from the glass. “I don’t know why I thought this was even an option.”

“Dunno either there, porky. But you must be real worried about it,” Brady mocked.

Paula gave her a look of disdain.

Through the intercom Brady taunted, “Aww … come on, doc. Don’t go away mad … just go away! Ha, ha, ha, ya fat load. Logan’s gonna get you … unless I do first. Better watch your back real good, ya fat bitch. Ha, ha …”

Paula flipped off the intercom, cutting off the rest of the new woman’s taunts and walked out.

**********
Ottawa Canada Sunday 3pm EDT:

Secretary of State Joanne Constantine sat alone at the table of Hy’s Steakhouse, the swank downtown Ottawa restaurant, looking over her notes from the days negotiating session while munching on a bit of luscious carrot cake. The more the small black haired attractive woman read, the more irritated she felt. The long fruitless day had left her feeling defeated and aggravated.

“Joanne?” a voice said, interrupting her reading.

She looked over and saw former White House Chief of staff William Reinhardt standing behind her.

“Bill!” she said, getting up and giving her old friend a warm, friendly hug. “What are you doing up here?”

It had been well over a month since Joanne had spoken with Reinhardt. His dismissal from the White House staff had been sudden and unexpected, but that was the way things were these days. If you disagreed with President Fuller’s policy decisions, your days were numbered, and the number was very low. Reinhardt had done just that by protesting the treatment of those in the quarantine centers.

“I’ve been good. I’ve been up here working with Gadston Consultants, the last few weeks.”

“Really? I hear they’re a great company to work for. You must be happy. But how did you get up here? The border blockade …”

“Well, when a company like that wants you, they have ways of greasing the wheels and making things happen.”

“Yes, I suppose your right. Would you like to take a seat?”

“I can only stay a couple minutes, but would be my pleasure.” he replied grabbing a chair. “So what brings you north of the border? Fuller finally come to his senses and throw you off the staff too?” he joked.

“I tell you there are times I wish he would, but no. I’m here trying to negotiate our way out of a shooting war with Canada.”

“How’s that going?”

Joanne looked over her shoulder and said in a low voice “Not as well as had hoped. That Montclair can be a real son of a bitch.”

Reinhardt laughed. “You’re not the first one to tell me that. What’s he trying to get out of you, Alaska?”

“Nothing that quite that drastic, but close. He’s trying to demand all sorts of other things that he’s not going to get. It’s like he thinks that just because we don’t want to go to war, that that he’s in the drivers seat, and we’re just going to give him anything he wants to avoid it. This morning I went in there and he was demanding complete control of the St. Lawrence Seaway for Christ sake. Like we’re going to do that.”

“That sounds like him.” Reinhardt replied with an amused smile. “I imagine Fuller must be breathing down your back to get it settled.”

“Is he ever! Patience isn’t his strongest suit. Things have been worse now, with Carlyle taking over for you. Tonight, before I came here I got a call from him telling me that if I couldn’t put this thing to bed by Tuesday, he was going to come up here and take over the negotiations personally.”

“Davis is going to?”

“That’s what he told me.”

Reinhardt grinned. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that session. Talk about counterproductive.”

“I hear you there.”

“Well then, it sounds like you’re going to have a busy day at the table tomorrow.”

“Yeah. All the stupid grandstanding and ridiculous demands aside, I tell you the real sticking point, is the bastard wants us to turn Alexander over to them so they can put him up on some sort of show trial.”

“Fuller will never allow that. The press would crucify him if he did.”

“I know he won’t, and they would be right to if he caved. But, I have to admit, there is a part of me wonders if the fate of one man is really worth all the lives that could be lost if we have to go to war.”

Reinhardt took her by the hand and spoke quietly “You’re well within your rights to wonder, but think of it this way. If you were to give up this one man, what’s to stop them from demanding we turn over more the next time? What’s to stop them from demanding we turn over the pilots that flew the planes that dropped the gas tomorrow? Or that Fuller himself surrender and be tried for crimes against humanity?”

“I see your point,” she replied after a moment’s thought.

“Be tough in there kid, or they’re going to walk all over you next time. Remember, it’s not a case of we can’t go to war with them, it’s we don’t want to. Make sure they understand the difference, and I’m sure they’ll be in more of a mood to get this settled. Right now Montclair thinks he’s got the upper hand. Show him he doesn’t.”

“I should bring you in there with me tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t Fuller just love that one?”

“Yeah, I think that would go over like a lead balloon, but it might be worth all the trouble it would cause, just to see him have to thank you for all your help in solving this,” she told him only half kidding.

“It might just be,” he replied, looking at his watch. “Well kid, I have to run. I’ve got my own meeting to get on with tonight. Big client wants the firm’s assessment of the situation in Uganda. You take care, and give them hell tomorrow.”

“I will. Thanks for the advice, and you take care too.”

Reinhardt rose to his feet and smiled at her before walking back towards the bar. Jo watched him go, then turned the page in her notebook and began to write furiously.

***********

Monday August 15 Dallas, Texas 6:15am CDT:

A short lived crackle of static lifted her out of the light slumber she had fallen into only an hour before. Raising an annoyed hand, she slammed it down on the alarm clock next to her, simultaneously smiling with satisfaction and cringing at the sound of the plastic housing cracking from the force of the blow.

‘Another one bites the dust.’ Katie Becket thought sleepily as she contentedly rolled over and tried to escape back into dreamland.

In the early evening of June 30th Katie had awakened from a coma, one that she hadn’t even been aware she was in, to discover her wildest dream had come true. She had traded in her life as a dumpy, balding thirty five year old man with a large and growing midsection for one as a very attractive, if not downright beautiful, thin, dark hair, blue eyed woman that looked to be somewhere in her early twenties.

The discovery was like a dream come true. It wasn’t a case of him holding secret desires to be a woman or anything like that; he had actually never even considered it. He had just always wished he was someone else. Anyone would have done, so long as it wasn’t his him.

Since the start of high school Katie, or Kevin has she had been called before the transformation, hated his life. In school he had been a social outcast. Not once had he ever been invited to a party. None of the girls were interested in him, even the class geeks looked down on him. The complete rejection had hurt him deeply. The hurt had led to a poor self image, which led to a lack of interest in his school work. That lack of interest resulted in horrible grades, which only worked to enhance his feelings of inadequacy.

After graduation, he had hoped for a while that his life was going to turn around. Those hopes were dashed when no college he applied to would even consider his application. Even the local junior college had been resistant to admitting him, claiming that he wasn’t going to be able to keep up with his classes. As it turned out, they were right. He was so far behind in his studies that he soon became hopelessly lost. Eventually he became so frustrated he just stopped going all together.

When his mother found out he had dropped out, she had insisted he get a job. Kevin didn’t want to, but she threatened to throw him out if he didn’t, so what else could he do?

Job hunting turned out to be just another miserable experience in a bad life. Because of his poor grades and the equally poor way he presented himself, his options for employment were very limited. The only places interested in hiring him were burger joints and low wage retail outlets, which served to renew his wish for different life.

The wishing begot an intense hatred of his situation and the way his life was playing out. The hatred progressed over time into a profound self-loathing. That, of course had led to depression, which in turn led to more self loathing and again, more depression. It became a vicious cycle to say the least.

An entire life time of discontent had all come to a head six months earlier when in one of his severely depressed moods, Kevin insulted three customers in a single morning, resulting in complaints to his manager. Mr. Fitzpatrick had called him into his office early that afternoon to discuss the matter, but Kevin wasn’t in the mood for criticism, even if it was aimed at trying to help him. The meeting had quickly degenerated into a shouting match.

In the end, Kevin’s mouth and a spotty, at best, attendance record cost him his job. The firing had left Kevin in an even deeper depression than ever before. Losing the job wasn’t the real issue. Kevin had never really like being a car salesman. It was a job he had just fallen into, like everything else in his life. Losing it was just another validation of his own worthless self image.

A week after being fired he made his first attempt to kill himself by taking a large handful of sleeping pills. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your point of view, he had only succeeded in making himself sick and passed out in front of his land lady, Mrs. Harris. Concerned, she had called an ambulance and Kevin woke up several hours later in the emergency room.

When asked how the overdose happened, he had been so embarrassed by his utter failure that he couldn’t admit the truth, so he explained to the attending doctor that he’d had a killer headache and had taken the wrong pills by accident, and when the first ones hadn’t worked, woozy, he’d taken some more. It was a long shot that she would buy it, but it was the best he could come up with. To his great surprise, she had bought the story, as improbable as it sounded, and after a night of observation he was sent home with a clean bill of health.

After recovering from that episode Kevin decided a new approach was in order. He considered several options hoping to come up with one that would provide a much smaller chance for him to screw it up. Shooting himself, he decided, was probably the surest bet. A simple shot to the head and it would be all over. There would be no lingering long enough to be discovered, no prolonged pain filled demise, just bang, and it would be all over.

However what Kevin knew about guns you could fit on the head of a very small pin. His ignorance soon led him to frustration, especially when he informed of the state law requiring a seven day waiting period, and the thorough background check when purchasing from a legitimate dealer. Though he had been released without being recommended for psychiatric help, he worried about the search sending up a red flag somewhere.

Someone in a bar told him that gun shows were exempt, but when he went to look for where one was being held, he found that none were within any kind of reasonable driving distance. Finally he wound up buying one off the street, little realizing at the time that the firing pin had been damaged.

The following day he sat at the kitchen table, drinking from the moment his mother left for work as he tried to work up the courage to do the deed.

He was surprised to see his hand shaking when the time had finally come. Kevin clumsily lifted the gun and placed it in his mouth. The barrel rattled against his teeth as he fought to hold it steady.

With the taste of gun oil in his mouth, the soon to be dead man squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could and pull the trigger …

Nothing happened.

Perplexed, he opened one eye and looked at the top of the gun barrel. Everything seemed to be in order. For a second, he considered taking it out and looking it over, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to put it back in if he did.

Taking a deep breath Kevin used his free hand to pull the hammer into the firing position again. Closing his eyes again, he pulled the trigger. Still, nothing happened.

Tears of hopeless frustration began to roll down his cheeks. A third time he pulled the trigger, and for the third time it didn’t fire.

A sudden rage over took him. Kevin pulled the gun out of his mouth and pitched it as hard as he could against the far wall. The impact set the damn thing off, blowing a hole in his favorite jacket that was sitting on the coat rack opposite where the gun landed, and causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

At that point he considered throwing himself off a tall building, but the way things were going, he became convinced that would only leave him crippled or something instead of dead. Instead he threw up his hands and drank himself into a coma.

All of those problems had disappeared that wonderful June morning. The day Kevin realized this was the opportunity he had always been waiting for.

Seizing it, Katie withdrew every penny she had managed to save for a rainy day via fifteen different ATM machines in the Odessa area. Four hundred dollars of the money went towards getting a fake ID that renamed her Katie, and made her 21 years old again. A chance to relive what was supposed to be the best years of his life was what he was after.

With her new identity now backed up with a picture, it was off to the mall for appropriate clothing and other stuff a girl would need.

Once that was done, it was off to the big city to live the life of a party girl.

Things had been going great up this point. Katie embraced life in a way Kevin had never been able to. Living as an attractive young woman was better than she could have ever imagined.

As a club girl, she was treated to free drinks, sex whenever she wanted it, and she wanted it a lot, free rent … it was everything she could have hoped for and more.

Unfortunately for her lovers and admirers, Katie never once considered the fact that she was infecting each and every one of them with the Acidalia virus. She was so busy enjoying her new life that she never even noticed that the guys she had sex with never came back, either. She wasn’t looking for a relationship anyhow, so what did it matter? She had what she wanted, and considered it a blessing that they disappeared afterwards.

A second burst of static found her ear. She glared at the offending clock angrily and was surprised to see the face wasn’t lit. “What the hell?’ she thought as she sat up and looked around her room for the origin of the disturbance. No obvious source in the sparsely furnished room jumped out at her.

More perturbed at being denied sleep than anything else, she climbed down off the bed, determined now to find where the static came from.

A sharp sound like the snapping of a stick drew Katie’s attention to the partly open window off to her right. The shade was drawn, preventing her from seeing outside, but it also prevented anyone from seeing in.

Having had problems with a stalker recently, she slipped over to the window as quietly as a cat. Gently tugging on the side of the shade, she peeked out. She barely managed to stifle a gasp as her gaze fell upon the back of a man crouching down at the front corner of the house. His midnight blue flak jacket with large bright yellow letters that spelled out the word POLICE left little question to his identity.

‘Oh shit!’ she silently cursed. ‘Fuck! Where did he come from? How the hell did they find me?’

She carefully let the shade settle back and turned back to the bed. She bolted to her closet and began to gather some clothes. She hurriedly threw on a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt. Another couple days worth of clothes were stuffed haphazardly into a small duffle bag as she thought back to two nights earlier.

She had been at a bar in downtown Dallas, as she was every other night, just partying and having a good ol’ time. There was this kind of cute, but complete nuisance of a guy named Frank, who had been hanging all over her most of the night. She knew she should have listened to the little alarms that were sounding off in her head about him, but he had been buying her drinks on a night when pickings were pretty slim.

For a while she had put up with his constant come-on’s and attempts to grope her, but eventually it got to be too much. When she finally told him to fuck off, and that she was leaving, he had gotten really pissed off. He demanded that she let him drive her home, and when she refused he grabbed her by the arm and tried to drag her out into the parking lot.

Luckily, one of the establishment’s bouncers saw what he was doing, stepped in and promptly sent Frank packing.

Katie hoped that would be the end of it. With Frank gone, she went back to having a good time.

Unfortunately, when closing time came, she found Frank was waiting in the lot. By this time she had picked up another consort for the night, and the pest was really pissed off at having been replaced so quickly.

He started shouting at Katie, calling her a whore and a slut. Jeff, the new guy she was with, took offense at the insult and started shouting back at Frank. The two of them were pretty drunk and the shouting quickly degenerated into a fist fight.

The only good thing that could be said about it, was that it was short. Jeff, who was tall and well muscled himself, turned out to be no match for Frank. Within a couple short of minutes he had been beaten to a blood pulp.

To Frank, the victory meant that Katie was now his for the night. He grabbed her roughly by the wrist and began to pull her along with him toward his waiting car.

Katie had enough. She pulled out of his grip and told him to fuck off as she turned and started towards where Jeff was sitting on the ground. Her continued resistance, however, only served to piss Frank off even more.

Before she got more than five steps, he snagged her by the hair and began shouting several select names at her.

All the commotion by now had drawn quite a large crowd of gawkers. Katie had hoped someone would step in and help her but no one did, so she took the matter into her own hands. She hadn’t wanted to show what she could do, but now there was little choice.

Katie grabbed hold of her own long brown locks and dug her heels into the pavement. Frank’s being more than just a little bit buzzed, her resistance caused him to stumble backwards a couple steps.

Recovering his balance, the well built bully yanked her hair again, this time with all his might, easily pulling her 115 pound frame towards him. When she thudded hard against his rock solid chest, Frank lifted her head and slapped her across the face.

He must have expected the blow to leave her stunned and too scared to resist, however it had only served to anger her even more. Smiling at the confused look that sat plastered to Frank’s face, Katie grabbed her attacker’s wrist, and with a quick twist, snapped it. Before Frank could even howl in pain from the sudden injury, Katie grabbed him by the front of his shirt and lifted him off his feet.

“What the fuck is with you?” she screamed furiously. “I told you to fuck, off so fuck off!” She shoved him away with all her might. The stunned man flew about ten feet before landing on the pavement with a sickening thud.

Seconds ticked by like hours, as she waited for Frank to get up. She was quivering with anger fueled adrenaline and very much wanted another piece of him, but he just lay there on the pavement.

Sick of waiting, she stepped over to where he landed and was shocked to see a small but spreading pool of blood under his head. Kneeling down, Katie rolled his head to the side, exposing a good sized split in the back of Frank’s skull. The sight of the wound sickened her, and made her even more acutely aware of the twenty or so witnesses that stood less than ten feet away.

“Someone call 911!” she shouted over her shoulder.

As she looked through her purse for something to help stop the flow of blood, she could hear the sound of approaching sirens. A hand touched her shoulder and a voice from behind her said, “You better get out of here, Miss, unless you want to try to explain to the police how you managed to throw a man twice your size across the parking lot.”

Katie turned to see the silhouette of a tall man standing there. “But he’s hurt. I … I didn’t mean to … He … he came after me first!” she stuttered.

“I know that, sweetie, we all saw what happened. But I don’t think that’s going to matter much to the police once they figure out what you are. If I’m right about you, they’ll be looking to take you to quarantine, not jail and I don’t think that’s where you want to wind up.”

“How …?”

“Just go, girl, before it’s too late. I’ll make sure he’s looked after,” the stranger told her as he knelt down next her and began applying pressure to Franks wound.

Katie didn’t want to leave, but she knew the blond haired stranger was right. If she stayed it would mean quarantine. She was finally free of everything she had hated about her old life and wasn’t about to let that freedom just go away because of some asshole from a bar, as selfish as that might sound. Fighting with the police wasn’t really an option either. Reluctantly and relieved at the same time, she got to her feet, gathered her purse up and bolted from the scene as fast as her heels would let, her praying that nobody had recognized her.

Another peek out the side shade showed just how foolish that hope was. She should have packed her stuff and run yesterday morning, but she didn’t want to … no that wasn’t right either … she simply couldn’t give up this new life. It had been her dream to escape the way things were, and the thought of leaving it was just too much for her. Now, however, it appeared as if it was going to be taken from her regardless of what she wanted.

Unless, that is, Katie was willing to use her abilities against the police that she assumed had the house surrounded.

A loud crash from the front room took the decision out of her hand. The time for regret and recrimination was officially over. It was high time to get her ass out of there. She ripped the shade away from the window, lifted the sash as high as it would go and leaped out. The uncannily agile new woman hit the ground and rolled to her feet before the cop at the corner could react, and slammed into him as hard as she could, knocking the wind from his lungs.

As the officer lay on the ground gasping for air, Katie turned and darted towards the back of neighboring house. She was hoping to slip by the cops that were undoubtedly all over the street in front of her place. However before she made it even ten yards, she heard voices calling out for her to stop.

Katie redoubled her efforts, pumping her supple legs as hard as she could. Her goal was to make the far corner of the high wooden fence that bordered the neighbor’s yard before anyone could get a bead on her. As tough as she was now, she had no delusions of being bulletproof.

Her plan fell apart just as she turned the corner. Waiting there was a small army of men in green camouflage bio gear.

She was moving fast, and the grass was wet from the early morning dew, so there was no chance to stop or change direction. Instead, she pushed harder, and barreled headlong into the crowd. The men in green didn’t expect that move, and were bowled over before they could react.

Her momentum carried her most of the way through them. Unfortunately, just not all the way.

The few that hadn’t been sent sprawling piled on her, trying to pull her down. She dragged their weight for several feet before it became too much for even her greatly enhanced strength to support.

After she was driven to her knees, the soldiers began to rain blows down upon the new woman. The nightstick hurt, a lot, but her stamina and resistance to injury was phenomenal. Despite their best efforts, Katie struggled her way back to her feet. The blows just kept coming, and she could tell it wouldn’t be long before she lost the ability to fight back.

Swinging her arms wildly, she felt each of them connect solidly with an attacker. She may not have known how many she was hitting, or how many there were to start with, but she did know with each mighty swing there were fewer and fewer nightsticks hitting her, so she kept at it.

A saddened stinging pain on her left shoulder made her wince. The charge of electricity that immediately followed it however, drove her back down to her knees. A second zap, combined with the beating she had already taken, floored her completely.

Stunned, but still trying to fight her way free, Katie tried to will her unresponsive muscles back into action, but they weren’t listening. No amount of grit and determination would get them to move even an inch.

She looked up at her assailants just in time to see a final black police baton heading towards her face. The next moment there was one last brief flash of pain, then only black oblivion.

“Alright! She’s finally down. Let’s get her loaded up before she recovers,” one of the bio suited solders told the others.

“After a beating like that? I don’t think she’s gonna be getting up anytime soon commander.” one of the others replied.

Did you see how fast she was? How strong? It was unbelievable! How could she move like that? And it took all of us and we barely got her down. I bet ya she would have been back on her feet in another minute if we hadn’t laid her out,” The commander told him. “So let’s not get cocky. Get those restrains on her. Send the doc over, we need to get the sedative into her and get the hell out of here. She’s got a long trip ahead of her.”

*************

Epilog: 4 days later

The stink of ammonia made her gag and cough. She waved her hand across her face to get the smell away. For a second it seemed to work, but then it came back worse than ever. It stunk so badly it forced her to open her eyes this time as she pushed it way again.

“Ah there we go. Come on, hun. Open those big brown eyes. Time to rise and shine,” a voice from above her said.

“Wha?? Where- where am I?” Katie asked, as she raised her left arm to shield her eyes while they tried to adjust to the harsh florescent light.

“You’re in the medical center at Ft. Rawlings, Nebraska,” The oddly mechanical voice told her.

“Nebraska? What the hell … ?” Kate asked as she sat up. With her vision more or less cleared, she began to look around at her surroundings.

Standing in front of her was a medium sized army green biohazard suit that probably contained a woman. It was hard to tell with the way the reflection of the lights obscured the faceplate. Off to the first suit’s left, stood another much larger suit holding a rifle of some kind. Once again she couldn’t tell for sure, but the size led her to believe it was a man. Either that or a grizzly bear, the size was close.

It appeared that the three of them were the only ones in the room, though Katie wasn’t sure if that was really an advantage for her or not.

The room itself was filled with all kinds of medical equipment, everything from heart monitors to something that looked like a dentist’s chair. The room had an odd shape to it, as the doors and windows all had rounded edges. The whole scene looked to her like someone had taken a hospital surgical unit and stuffed it into a fish bowl.

Behind her … guards? ... sat the largest of the thick round windows. The harsh light inside the fish bowl made it hard to see what was beyond it. Katie could only make out the shadows of people moving around through it. There may have been as many as six of them out there but it was hard to tell for sure.

‘At least eight of them? Don’t like those odds much.’ she thought quietly. ‘Guess I’m stuck here, for at least a little while anyhow.’

Deciding there was nothing to lose in trying to get some answers, she demanded, “I want to know why I’m here? What the hell’s going on? Where do you people get off kidnapping me?”

“You’re here because you possess special abilities that your country needs in order to continue to defend our borders against the rest of the world.”

“My help? What the hell can I do to help with that?” Katie asked confused.

She sat on the bed trying to make the mental connection, but the drugs they had used on her were slowing down her thought process. She looked up at the uniforms again …something about the color was teasing the edge of her brain. And where had they said she was? Nebraska? Some kind of fort? Suddenly a bright light of realization switched on inside her head.

“Oh no! No way. You can’t … I’m not doing it. You can’t make me! I-I have rights!”

“Not here you don’t. Welcome to the Army, Becket. Get used to it, cause Uncle Sam owns your ass now!”

***************

Confirmed Cases: 3,228,163

Actual Cases: 5,807,769

End part XI