Drew Karpyshyn - Ascension

"We're almost there," Jiro said encouragingly. "Just a little farther and then we can sit down."

Gillian was moving slowly, taking one painfully measured step at a time as they made their way down the walking path of the Grissom Academy's atrium. He should have anticipated this. She was distracted by all the trees and plants; leaves in a myriad of shapes and flowers in a kaleidoscope of colors were too much for her limited sensory perception to process all at once.

They hadn't seen anybody else in the atrium so far; not surprising as most of the staff and students were in class. But the trails that wound their way through the wooded park were popular spots for runners looking to get in some exercise during their free time. He didn't want to start giving her the medication only to have some off-duty Alliance soldier come jogging around the corner and catch him in the act. So he was doing his best to hurry her along, careful not to touch her or upset her by getting overly anxious.

"We can rest over by the waterfall, Gillian. Come on. Not much farther."

The atrium was a five-acre woodland that had been carefully constructed at the heart of the space station to provide a place for faculty and students to commune with nature. The glass roof was equipped with adjustable mirrors to reflect and redirect light from Elysium's sun down onto the trees below, mimicking the duration of the day-night and seasonal cycles found on the planet.

Local flora made up the majority of the plant life, though a few exotic species imported from other human colonized worlds were found in specially tended gardens scattered throughout the park. It was also home to carefully monitored populations of insects, birds, and small mammals indigenous to Elysium, as well as numerous fish species in the small streams that wound their way through the landscape.

The streams were artificial, the water pumped through them in a continuous circuit that both began and ended at a large pond atop a grassy knoll that rose up from the center of the park. At the base of the knoll was a small clearing where water spilled down from the pond in a makeshift waterfall — a popular place for picnics and lunches. This early in the day, though, Jiro suspected the clearing would be empty. . and it was located safely out of sight of the running trails.

"That's good, Gillian," he cooed when she started moving again, her head turning slowly from side to side in bemused wonder at the spectacle surrounding her.

"Okay, let's turn right now," he said to her when they reached a branch in the trail. It was warm beneath the artificial sunlight; he was sweating under his lab coat.

She stumbled once as he led her down the path toward the waterfall: unlike the carefully tended running trails, the ground here was allowed to grow over with roots, making it rough and uneven. He reached out to grab her elbow to keep her from falling. Fortunately her attention was focused on what he guessed to be the Elysium equivalent of a chipmunk chattering at them from a branch above their heads, and she didn't seem to react to his touch.

Still keeping his grip on her elbow, he propelled her quickly down the path until they reached their destination. Half a dozen benches were situated around the edges of the clearing, each positioned so that anyone seated on them could watch the water tumbling off the fifteen-foot-high ledge into the pool below. He was relieved to see the benches were empty.

Lunch was still over an hour away, and it wasn't likely anyone would arrive before then. But he didn't want to take any more of a chance than he had to. Still gripping Gillian by the elbow, he led her over to one of the benches in the shade and helped her sit down, letting go of her arm.

Then he waited, giving her time to adjust to her new surroundings. He hoped the gentle splashing of the waterfall would have a soothing effect on her.

After a few minutes she muttered, "Why did you bring me here?"

He realized she must have picked up on his sense of urgency. He chose his next words carefully. He didn't want to scare her or upset her; not after what she'd shown she was capable of.

"I need to check your readings, Gillian," he said, keeping his tone professional.

She frowned, and his heart began to beat a little faster.

"Miss Sanders checked them yesterday."

"I know you don't like it, but I need to check them again," he explained. "Because of what happened yesterday."

Gillian chewed her lip, then nodded and bowed her head forward, exposing the nape of her neck.

He reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out the vial Grayson had given him. From another pocket he produced a long syringe.

"This might hurt," he warned her as he filled the syringe.

Pulling the back collar of her T-shirt down slightly, he eased the long needle into the flesh between her shoulders, carefully sliding the tip between the vertebrae.

As per the instructions from Cerberus, he had administered the last dose to her orally, mixing it in with a glass of water he had brought to her room. However, as part of their ongoing experiment, every alternate dose was to be administered through direct injection into the cerebrospinal fluid.

Gillian whimpered softly as he pressed his thumb down on the top of the syringe.

Jiro didn't know exactly what kind of drugs Gillian was being given, but he understood enough to guess they were some kind of neurological stimulant. The previous dose would have been diluted by passing through her digestive system before being absorbed into her circulatory system and then finally transferring across the blood-brain barrier. In contrast, an injection directly into the cerebrospinal fluid should have more immediate, and dramatic, effects.

"All done," he said as he pulled the needle free.

Gillian brought her head back up, her gaze fixating on the waterfall. One hand absently went up to rub the back of her neck where he had injected her.

Strange. She's never done that before.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

The girl didn't answer, though her hand fell away from her neck. It dangled at her side, limp and useless.

"Gillian? What's wrong?"

Her head lolled to the side, her eyes rolling back into her skull. Her body began to shiver, then tremor, then bucked hard enough to throw her from her seat. She toppled forward, Jiro just managing to catch her before her head struck the ground.

He turned her onto her side as her arms and legs began to twitch, gripped by the spasms of a fullblown seizure.

"Oh, Jesus!" he swore as her mouth began to foam.

Hendel's feet pounded hard on the dormitory floor, the sound echoing down the hall as he raced toward the atrium. Even as he ran, his mind was trying to evaluate the situation.

Jiro may not be who we thought he was.

That didn't necessarily make him an enemy, but until Hendel knew what was going on he had to assume the worst. He pulled his gun as he ran, his hand snapping it free from the holster on his hip in one quick motion without ever breaking stride.

He debated calling for backup, then quickly dismissed the idea. Jiro didn't know his cover was blown; Hendel didn't want anyone sounding an alarm and tipping him off.

Why did he take Gillian to the atrium?

He didn't know how Jiro was connected to Gillian, or if he was somehow responsible for what had happened in the cafeteria. But he intended to find out. . one way or another.

Skidding around a corner, Hendel slammed into the wall, absorbing the blow with his hip and shoulder so that he lost almost no momentum.

Too many people in the quarantine ward. He wanted privacy. But for what?

He rounded another corner, sprinted down a short hallway, then took the corridor branching off to his left that led into the wooded serenity of the atrium. If Jiro needed privacy, he'd have to get Gillian somewhere off the paths. But he couldn't just drag her out into the woods: she'd freak out every time a branch brushed against her.