Michael Crichton - Prey

Just hearing him say that irritated me. "You think so? We'll see." Because my next step was obvious. Close to the ground like this, the swarm was structurally vulnerable. It was a cluster of particles no larger than specks of dust. If I disrupted the cluster-if I broke up its structure-then the particles would have to reorganize themselves, just as a scattered flock of birds would re-form in the air. That would take at least a few seconds. And in that time I would be able to get through the door.

But how to disrupt it? I swung the stick in my hand, hearing it whoosh through the air, but it was clearly unsatisfactory. I needed something with a much bigger flat surface, like a paddle or a palm frond-something to create a large disrupting wind… My mind was racing. I needed something.

Something.

Behind me, the second cloud was closing in. It moved toward me in an erratic zigzag pattern, to cut off any attempt I might make to run past it. I watched with a kind of horrified fascination. I knew that this, too, had never been coded in the program. This was self-organized, emergent behavior-and its purpose was only too clear. It was stalking me. The pulsing sound grew louder as the swarm came closer and closer.

I had to disrupt it.

Turning in a circle, I looked at the ground all around me. I saw nothing I could use. The nearest juniper tree was too far away. The cholla cactuses were flimsy. I thought, of course there's nothing out here, it's the fucking desert. I scanned the exterior of the building, hoping someone had left out an implement, like a rake…

Nothing.

Nothing at all. I was out here with nothing but the shirt on my back, and there was nobody that could help me toOf course!

The headset crackled: "Jack, listen…"

But I didn't hear any more after that. As I pulled my shirt over my head, the headset came away, falling to the ground. And then, holding the shirt in my hand, I swung it in broad whooshing arcs through the air. And screaming like a banshee, I charged the swarm by the door.

The swarm vibrated with a deep thrumming sound. It flattened slightly as I ran toward it, and then I was in the midst of the particles, and plunged into an odd semidarkness, like being in a dust storm. I couldn't see anything-I couldn't see the door-I groped blindly for the doorknob-and my eyes stung from the particles, but I kept swinging my shirt in broad whooshing arcs, and in a moment the darkness began to fade. I was dispersing the cloud, sending particles spinning off in all directions. My vision was clearing, and my breathing was still okay, though my throat felt dry and painful. I began to feel thousands of tiny pinpricks all over my body, but they hardly hurt.

Now I could see the door in front of me. The doorknob was just to my left. I kept swinging my shirt, and suddenly the cloud seemed to clear entirely away, almost as if it was moving out of range of my disruption. In that instant I slipped through the door and slammed it shut behind me. I blinked in sudden darkness. I could hardly see. I thought my eyes would adjust from the glare of sunlight, and I waited a moment, but my vision did not improve. Instead, it seemed to be getting worse. I could just make out the glass doors of the airlock directly ahead. I still felt the stinging pinpricks all over my skin. My throat was dry and my breathing was raspy. I coughed. My vision was dimming. I started to feel dizzy.

On the other side of the airlock, Ricky and Mae stood watching me. I heard Ricky shout, "Come on, Jack! Hurry!"

My eyes burned painfully. My dizziness grew rapidly worse. I leaned against the wall to keep from falling over. My throat felt thick. I was having difficulty breathing. Gasping, I waited for the glass doors to open, but they remained closed. I stared stupidly at the airlock. "You have to stand in front of the doors! Stand!"

I felt like the world was in slow motion. All my strength was gone. My body felt weak and shaky. The stinging was worse. The room was getting darker. I didn't think I could stand up on my own.

"Stand! Jack!"

Somehow, I shoved away from the wall, and lurched toward the airlock. With a hiss, the glass doors slid open.

"Go, Jack! Now!"

I saw spots before my eyes. I was dizzy, and sick to my stomach. I stumbled into the airlock, banging against the glass as I stepped inside. With every second that passed it was harder to breathe. I knew I was suffocating.

Outside the building, I heard the low thrumming sound start up again. I turned slowly to look back.

The glass doors hissed shut.

I looked down at my body but could barely see it. My skin appeared black. I was covered in dust. My body ached. My shirt was black with dust, too. The spray stung me, and I closed my eyes. Then the air handlers started up, whooshing loudly. I saw the dust sucked off my shirt. My vision was clearer, but I still couldn't breathe. The shirt slipped from my hand, flattening against the grate at my feet. I bent to reach down for it. My body began to shake, tremble. I heard only the roar of the handlers.

I felt a wave of nausea. My knees buckled. I sagged against the wall. I looked at Mae and Ricky through the second glass doors; they seemed far away. As I watched, they receded even farther, moving away into the distance. Soon they were too far away for me to worry any longer. I knew I was dying. As I closed my eyes, I fell to the ground, and the roar of the air handlers faded into cold and total silence.

"Don't move."

Something icy-cold coursed through my veins. I shuddered.

"Jack. Don't move. Just for a second, okay?"

Something cold, a cold liquid running up my arm. I opened my eyes. The light was directly overhead, glaring, greenish-bright; I winced. My whole body ached. I felt like I'd been beaten. I was lying on my back on the black counter of Mae's biology lab. Squinting in the glare, I saw Mae standing beside me, bent over my left arm. She had an intravenous line in my elbow. "What's going on?"

"Jack, please. Don't move. I've only done this on lab animals."

"That's reassuring." I lifted my head to see what she was doing. My temples throbbed. I groaned, and lay back.

Mae said, "Feel bad?"

"Terrible."

"I'll bet. I had to inject you three times."

"With what?"

"You were in anaphylactic shock, Jack. You had a severe allergic reaction. Your throat almost closed up."

"Allergic reaction," I said. "That's what it was?"

"Severe one."

"It was from the swarm?"

She hesitated for a moment, then: "Of course."

"Would nano-sized particles cause an allergic reaction like that?"

"They certainly could…"

I said, "But you don't think so."

"No, I don't. I think the nanoparticles are antigenically inert. I think you reacted to a coliform toxin."

"A coliform toxin…" My throbbing headache came in waves. I took a breath, let it out slowly. I tried to figure out what she was saying. My mind was slow; my head hurt. A coliform toxin.

"Right."

"A toxin from E. coli bacteria? Is that what you mean?"

"Right. Proteolytic toxin, probably."

"And where would a toxin like that come from?"

"From the swarm," she said.

That made no sense at all. According to Ricky the E. coli bacteria were only used to manufacture precursor molecules. "But bacteria wouldn't be present in the swarm itself," I said. "I don't know, Jack. I think they could be."

Why was she so diffident? I wondered. It wasn't like her. Ordinarily, Mae was precise, sharp. "Well," I said, "somebody knows. The swarm's been designed. Bacteria's either been designed in, or not."

I heard her sigh, as if I just wasn't getting it.

But what wasn't I getting?

I said, "Did you salvage the particles that were blown off in the airlock? Did you keep the stuff from the airlock?"