Emmy Laybourne: Dress Your Marines in White

“Ceglowski?!” Montez looked dazed. He turned to his aide. “Darington, did we know about this?”

“No, sir.”

“I would have testified, for Christ’s sake. That man is no criminal. I don’t believe he was involved with Marshad. Not for one moment.”

Ceglowski certainly didn’t look like a spy. He looked like he should be running bases on a baseball field or planting corn or waving a firecracker or eating apple pie.

James recognized the strained smile on Massey’s face. It meant she wanted to murder someone. But this was a glitch no one could have anticipated, James thought to himself. No one could have imagined that one of the generals would know one of the convicts.

“What can be done about this?” Colonel Davidson turned to Savic and Massey.

“If I may, General Montez,” Dr. Massey said smoothly, “Private Ceglowski has type B blood. As you may remember from the presentation, of all the test subjects, he will suffer the least in this experiment.”

That was true. For the moment, anyway.

“Is that right?” Montez asked, scanning the cheat sheet James had prepared. “Yes. I see. It’s… fine. It just took me by surprise, to see someone who I know…”

“Of course,” Colonel Davidson tutted.

Dr. Savic turned to Massey and nodded. “Dr. Massey, please proceed.”

Montez sat down and looked through the glass, but his eyes were glazed over. James, Massey, all of them could see he was somewhere on a dusky back street, ducking sniper fire with Ceglowski at his side.

Ceglowski was very much living in the present, though.

He was standing at attention before a mirrored wall. He was under bright lights — every pore and follicle exposed — but the air was cool and crisp.

The subjects were asked to recline on the upright testing beds. Their handcuffs were removed by the guard. Dr. Cha then strapped them down. Each subject was bound with a strap across each foot and each hand, and a strap over the torso.

Then Dr. Massey addressed the test subjects over the intercom.

“Gentlemen, I want to thank you for your participation in this experiment today. Please rest assured that you will experience the effects of the compound for a very short amount of time. On behalf of the scientific community here at USAMRIID, I offer you my deepest thanks for your brave participation.”

James had to hand it to her — Massey was brilliant. These weren’t just empty theatrics — she was positioning herself as the spokesperson for the entire lab. Savic had better watch his back.

Dr. Cha then checked the function of his protective suit. The guard did the same. They each gave the thumbs up, indicating that their suits were airtight and functioning properly.

“Cut the air,” Massey directed James.

I pressed the button on my tablet that controlled the air circulation within the sealed test chamber. (For the sake of clarity — this is a sealed air system for the test room only. The button I pressed stopped the air movement inside the test chamber — there was never the chance that the MORS could get out through the venting system to the rest of the lab.)

Cha gave another thumbs up, indicating that the air circulation within the room had ceased.

On a small lab table set directly in front of the viewing glass was the release mechanism. A small metal clamp and a robotic arm held the two ends of a minute glass ampule. Inside the ampule was .005 ml of the MORS compound.

At the back of the lab was a tablet set to display the time, down to the millisecond.

James had handled it, in the lab. Between his gloved fingers, he had held the ampule to a light. He had thought he could see it. A gray residue.

Point oh-oh-five milliliters of MORS looked like a tiny smudge.

It could contaminate everyone in the lab, if it was released into the air. If he, say, dropped it in the hallway, they’d all be suffering its effects within minutes.

Dr. Massey directed me to release the compound and I triggered the mechanism from my tablet.

They were listening over the intercom system. And with a tiny whirr, the robotic arm moved down and the glass ampule snapped.

The clock began running.

For a moment, nothing.

Then O’s head snapped back as he inhaled. A slow, mean smile spread on his face while A, two beds over, started coughing.

Blisters sprang up on A’s skin. He started to whimper as welts sprang up over his face and arms. It looked like he was developing heat rash, or hives, but in fast motion.

Four seconds and already A was in trouble. James glanced at Dr. Massey. She looked enthralled, her eyes flitting from one subject to another.

The brass was equally enthralled, but Dr. Savic was looking at the floor, rubbing his jaw.

O roared. His veins were throbbing in his neck. He thrust himself forward, straining against the bonds.

The effects took place instantaneously. The O test subject began to buck and try to free himself from his bonds. The A test subject began to blister up. Subjects B and AB, however, showed no signs.

And that was the problem.

Of course B would show no signs. But AB, well, Massey had hoped to see some outward demonstration of his inward distress.

AB should be feeling intense paranoia and be suffering hallucinations. Instead he seemed frozen in fear — not unlike how he had looked before the demonstration had begun.

Seven seconds now and O was rocking the bed back and forth, driven to a furious despair — bloodlust was coursing through him and he was unable to kill anyone.

A was blistering too quickly. He wasn’t going to last thirty seconds. No way. The blisters were popping now, tiny dots of blood appearing all over his body and him screaming.

“Dr. Massey?” James asked. “Now?”

“Hey!” Ceglowski yelled. “That’s enough! You’re killing him!”

Savic’s head shot up and he stepped towards the glass.

“Massey—” Savic warned.

“Wait for it,” Massey said, holding her hand out. She was focused on AB. Waiting for him to break.

At approx. 9 seconds into the presentation, I asked Dr. Massey for permission to press the kill switch and end the demonstration by releasing the gel.

A was starting to writhe and beg.

O had snapped a leg restraint.

“Dr. Massey!” Dr. Savic repeated.

“Wait!” Massey said, raptly focused on AB.

AB finally screamed — a high-pitched scream utterly shot through with terror and hysteria and pure madness.

“Now!” she shouted and James pressed the button.

But the gel didn’t trigger.

At approx. 11 seconds, Private Victor Gruin (the type O subject) burst free from his restraining bonds. I repeatedly pressed the trigger for the gel. The mechanism had failed.

“It’s not working!” James shouted, pressing the button again and again. Savic grabbed the tablet from him and pressed the button himself.

A was slippery with blood now, thrashing wildly against his bonds.

“Get us out of here!” Ceglowski shouted.

Everyone in the audience chamber was standing, watching through the glass.

With a roar, O snapped the chest bond and kicked the testing bed back away from him.

Shots were fired by the guard approximately 13 seconds into the demonstration, in an attempt to kill Private Gruin. The shots were unsuccessful.

O was on the guard in two steps. With a cry of joy, O began to beat the guard to death with his own rifle.

“Somebody do something!” Montez shouted in the observation chamber.

“Cha!” Massey shouted over the intercom. “Can you trigger the gel from in the room?”

Cha was cowering in the corner.

O had finished with the guard and turned toward Cha.

Blood type A was hemorrhaging freely now, more pulp than man, but still screaming. A horrible, wet cry.