John Krygelski - The Aegis Solution

“Doctor, please…!”

Raising his hands in a gesture intended to calm his superior but having the opposite effect, the doctor began, “The Accelerants have a hyper-metabolism. Their consumption of all things we normally need — water, food, air — is dramatically pumped up, as it were. And when they are in motion, so to speak, their hearts and all of their other muscles demand oxygen at a radically heightened rate.”

“I know all of this. They pant like dogs, so what?”

“That same demand for oxygen would make them vulnerable to an anesthetic at levels which would be essentially harmless to us.”

“Do you expect me to believe that Elias, or one of his group, managed to sneak up on an Accelerant and held a rag over his mouth until he passed out?”

The doctor shook his head. “That wouldn’t be at all necessary. Sevoflurane or Desflurane, either one of them loaded in a dispersal device, such as a tear-gas canister, would knock out an Accelerant, and the people around probably wouldn’t even need gas masks.”

Killeen looked off into the distance, thinking. “That would also explain how Charon escaped from our lab.”

The doctor nodded.

Crossing the short distance from the storm drain to the nearest exit from the atrium proved to be tedious and time-consuming, as the four had to climb over or occasionally move the twisted and shattered solar panels. As they entered the corridor, Elias looked at the ceiling and noted, “I’m surprised the lighting still works. I would have thought that what happened on the roof would have shut down the electrical systems.”

“We don’t know yet if it has,” Wilson cautioned. “Almost all of the daytime lighting in the complex is from solar tubes, rather than electric fixtures. But I doubt that the rooftop calamity shorted out our power. The systems would be isolated and protected by breakers. Anyway, the sun is setting. We’ll know soon enough.”

“Won’t the batteries die without the solar panels feeding them anymore?”

“Yes, eventually. You must remember, Aegis is still not even approaching its design capacity, insofar as population and, therefore, electrical demand. The batteries should last for many days, perhaps even weeks.”

“Besides,” Tillie added as she walked over to them, “I’ve got two generators stashed.”

“You know, Tillie,” Elias remarked, “you are rapidly losing the ability to surprise me.”

“Oh, yeah? Well…hey, what’s that?”

As Elias jerked around to look in the direction she was staring, she suddenly punched him in the stomach.

“Ooww! What was that for?”

“Just wanted to show you that I could still surprise you. Come on, we’d better clear out of this open corridor and get to my place.”

Rubbing his abdomen with both hands, he watched as she grabbed the duffel bag he had taken from her down in the storm system, and tossed it over her shoulder. Carrying only his rifle, he followed her as he heard Wilson softly laughing.

The balance of the journey was uneventful, and they were all soon entering her den. In deference to Tillie’s mudroom, they all paused and leaned their weapons and packs against the walls. Elias hung up his windbreaker on one of the decorative hooks, leaving his 9mm in the pocket. Exhausted, they rounded the corner and proceeded to get settled in her main room.

Almost immediately, Stone excused himself, and was gone for several minutes. As he walked back in, Tillie glanced up at him. “Where were you all this time?”

He reached up and shook the back of his shirt collar. “On our trip through the storm sewer, I got sand everywhere — inside my shirt, pants, socks, my….”

“I don’t need to know the details,” she interrupted. “You didn’t shake out your clothes in my environment, did you? If I find sand scattered all over my pretty stuff, I’ll make you pick it off one grain at a time.”

“No, I didn’t,” he answered quickly. “I went down the passageway. That’s why I was gone so long.”

Tillie eyed him suspiciously, but said nothing.

“Now, I’m really confused.” Stone’s brow furrowed.

“About what, Eric?” Elias asked.

“Before we were attacked at Wilson’s, I thought we had concluded that Faulk wants you alive. It didn’t look as if that really was the case when they torched Wilson’s place with us trapped on the porch.”

“Not necessarily,” Wilson surmised. “It could have been their plan to smoke us out. It is a rare individual who will remain in a burning building, no matter what might be outside. People have even leapt from twenty-story windows to avoid the experience.”

“I think Wilson’s right. If he, or whoever we’re working against, wanted me dead, I would have died during that first run-in with the Zooks.”

Tillie, who was lying on the sofa, with her feet dangling over the back and her arms crossed and covering her face, blurted, “Duh! That’s a no-brainer. What I don’t get is, if they knew you were coming, why did Kreitzmann buy your act and give you a tour?”

Elias paused and did not answer. Neither Wilson nor Stone offered an explanation, either. Tillie, waiting for a response and getting none, uncovered her face and twisted her head around to look at them. “You mean I’m the only one who has been wondering about that? It’s what I’d expect from these two, but Wilson, I’m surprised at you.”

“Tillie, there is no reason to be insufferable. I am certain that all of us have wondered the same thing.”

“It hadn’t occurred to me,” Stone said.

“See!”

“Tillie!”

“Okay, okay.”

Elias cleared his throat before speaking. “I’ve been wondering the same thing. Every explanation leads me in a circle. I feel like a dog chasing his tail.”

“I have no doubt that we are missing an essential piece to the puzzle,” Wilson agreed. “Once we find it, that particular question will be answerable.”

Elias looked at him thoughtfully. “You’re right. But I’m not sure we have enough time to find that piece. By the way, we’ve been through quite a bit over the last few hours. How are you holding up?”

Wilson, who had sunk so deeply into an overstuffed chair that his arms, perched on the armrests, were level with his ears, smiled at Elias. “I appreciate your asking. I really do. I’ve managed to keep myself in fairly good condition over the years….”

“Because I’ve worked his butt off,” Tillie interjected.

“She’s right. There are very few things better for an old man than to struggle to keep up with a young friend. To answer your query, Elias, I am fine and looking forward to what may come next.”

“Wish I could say the same,” he responded.

Stone, who had taken to the bed Elias had awakened in earlier, joined in, “Speaking of what may come next, Elias, do you have any idea what we are going to do?”

“I do. I think we have two issues. We need to find that missing piece to the puzzle Wilson mentioned, and I think that we need to figure a way to get out of here. And, considering that God, nature, or who-knows-what seems to be intent on tearing this place apart, I don’t think we have much time to do both.”

“Which means we should probably split up,” Stone offered.

“That might be a good idea.”

“It’s a dumb idea,” Tillie huffed.

“Why?”

“If we are going to make it, we need to stick together. In all the movies I ever watched before I came in here, it was always the same. Somebody in the group said, ‘We need to split up,’ and as soon as they did, they all died.”

“Tillie, this isn’t a movie.”

“Don’t you think I know that, Elias?” As she answered him, she swung her legs around, placing her feet on the floor, and sat up, facing him. “But it doesn’t matter. Each one of us has something to offer. You split us up, we all lose. Besides, I can solve one of your two issues.”