Chapter 185
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 185
Chapter Title: Under the Black Water (3)
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The controlled zone reflected on the security room monitor was a landscape devoid of movement. If not for the timer ticking in the corner of the screen, one might have suspected it was a frozen image.
Just in case, Winter powered on the mic and tapped it with his fingertips. Tap, tap. If there were any variants around, they’d react.
Joanna, who had been manipulating the console, tilted her head.
“It’s hard to check the contents right now, but there are undeleted records. Did they think it didn’t matter since they’re incinerating the ship anyway?”
There wasn’t time to review every surveillance video one by one. Some were encrypted too. Fiddling with the memory stick she’d brought, she pocketed it again and shut off the console’s power. Then she disassembled the main unit and pulled out the hard drive. It was just small enough to fit in the pocket on her thigh.
The other documents they found were trivial things like duty logs. Even so, they served as evidence of the personnel involved. Joanna pulled out a small camera and photographed each page.
Finally, she sprayed fingerprint collection spray and preserved them with transparent film. With fingerprints on top of photos, it would be hard to claim they were fabricated.
“How’s the inside? Anything there?”
At her question, Winter shook his head.
“No major threats seem present, but I can’t be certain. If it’s something like a ghoul, it might have learned the concept of speakers. More than that, there’s no guarantee that experimented variants behave like regular ones….”
“You mean the variants have been weaponized?”
“Not necessarily, but they could be dangerous in ways we don’t know.”
He couldn’t dismiss the low probability. After all, such a world had existed in Winter’s past.
‘There were even people who tried teaching them language to attempt communication.’
How do you feel? How much does it hurt? What do you want? Do you sense divine providence?
The last question felt bizarre, but that world demanded such inquiries. In a chaotic situation where people saw the pandemic as God’s judgment, teetering on the brink of a theocracy, rational folk sought contrary evidence. To persuade the panicked masses. And to reassure themselves.
A gamma ghoul had more than enough capacity for systematic learning.
But it was a poor choice. Language equated to linguistic cognition. Even with equal intelligence, a variant that could speak possessed vastly superior intellectual capacity.
The moment the test subject escaped, that world’s downfall accelerated.
“It’s a valid judgment. Ignorance is dangerous in itself.”
Joanna pondered.
“Hmm, what should we do? Originally, I thought one of us should stay here to guard the retreat, but going in alone might be risky. What do you think, Winter?”
A blocked retreat meant the end. The security room’s monitors covered the hallway outside the door, so leaving one person here would prevent ambushes or blocked paths.
‘“Insight” isn’t reacting….’
It wasn’t a light decision, but lingering here was another risk in itself.
“Better if we both go in. It’ll take longer if one goes alone.”
“Got it. I’ll cover six o’clock like before.”
Winter took point, the agent rear guard. A rhythm they’d grown accustomed to since April Pacific.
Passing the powered-down decontamination room, Winter opened the heavy door to the controlled zone.
They moved quickly, thanks to having memorized the layout from the closed-circuit feed. They slowed only when passing blind spots in surveillance. He gauged distance to obstacles based on reaction time. And judged if he could respond if something emerged.
“Gruesome sight.”
Joanna’s voice. While she collected evidence, Winter kept watch all around.
Click. The camera captured scenes of body parts preserved in test tubes. Deformed organs. A severed arm. A leg skinned to expose muscle. Fingers twitching with wires connected to the nervous system. Even if insufficient as proof of human experimentation, it was ample evidence that unsanctioned activities had occurred on the Pequod beyond official operations.
Whenever they found computers, they yanked the storage drives. Storage was an issue, but fortunately, they found an empty bag. It had a sports brand logo, which felt out of place.
Clang! Kyaaack!
Tat-tat-tang! Startled by the sudden noise, the agent reflexively pulled the trigger on her rifle. Sparks flew from the iron bars. Winter, who had been aiming rearward and was about to fire, eased off. The cloth covering the cage slipped away, revealing a grotesquely shaped ghoul trapped in the narrow space.
‘A ghoul?’
Aside from skin that had overcome immune rejection, other aspects differed more. Flesh bloated messily, like tumors proliferating across the body. The face was so swollen one eye couldn’t open.
The monster staggered back against the wall, sliding down with a trickle. A contaminated bloodstain smeared the wall it leaned against. Blood splashed from the hand that dropped with a thud into the puddle. Thanks to Joanna’s precise counterfire, all three wounds were fatal.
This triggered shrieks from all directions. As curtains over cages were pulled aside, the inhuman prisoners reacted with frenzy. Mangled hands reached through bars, clawing at empty air.
Not all specimens were so energetic, though. Many appeared already dead.
“My God. They’ve even captured a Trickster.”
Joanna gasped in horror. The most cunning variant was bound at the limbs, thick electrodes stabbed into both shoulders. A pair of wires pierced the floor, leading to somewhere unknown.
The Trickster, gagged, rolled its yellowed eyes while lying on the floor. Primal hunger and hatred burned in its bloodshot gaze. It twitched occasionally as if exerting force, but the ensuing discharge was faint. Even with Winter’s sensory correction, it was barely audible.
The monster’s arms bore countless injection marks. A nearby trash bin had a biohazard warning. Kicking it over spilled empty ampoules and syringes. Along with blood-soaked gauze and chunks of decayed tissue samples.
‘Surely discarding them like this isn’t dangerous.’
Winter lowered his momentarily heightened alertness. He’d briefly suspected tests like cholera on variants, but such experiments would have been far more rigorously contained. With no “Survival Instinct” warning to begin with, the risk was low.
Examining the wires, Joanna spoke.
“Looks like this is the safety measure. It seems to shunt the current the Trickster generates outward. This way, even self-destruct is impossible.”
As revealed by the Department of Defense’s Biodefense Strategy Research Institute, Trickster self-destruct involved overloading itself. Thus, with electrodes discharging like this, self-destruct was blocked at the source.
No need to kill them one by one. The two resumed their search. The chorus of shrieks faded behind them.
The controlled zone was vast, occupying perhaps half the deck.
Passing a partition draped in plastic and rounding a corner, the stench of blood assaulted them. It came from a dark nook without light. Winter groped the wall for a switch. Click. Lights flickered on, buzzing like they were on their last legs. The atrocity was revealed.
“Andy, over here a moment.”
Joanna, who had been covering the rear from the corner, hurried over.
“Oh, Lord.”
The agent covered her mouth with one hand. Rage filled her eyes, squeezed shut then open.
“Those sons of bitches. How could people do this….”
Filling the view, corpses lined up in a row, hands bound, executed. Men and women, elderly and children—all bore penetrating head wounds without exception. Small holes in the napes, large ones shattering foreheads or noses. No decomposition yet. Blood hadn’t fully coagulated. The occasional drip from somewhere was obviously blood-red.
After inspecting a few, Joanna clenched her fist.
“There are blisters on the skin, but no trace of immune rejection. They weren’t infected.”
Winter nodded.
“People they captured to use as lab rats.”
Following the row of kneeling, face-down corpses led to a wall chute for discarding waste. Lower bodies protruded from the hole. Winter grabbed a stiff leg and pushed. It wouldn’t budge. The passage was blocked.
No trace of human dignity in their treatment.
Click, click. The shutter sounded softly. Joanna photographed with a face tinged with self-loathing.
“They killed the people even if they spared the variants before leaving.”
“Maybe that was their version of mercy, those ‘true patriots.’ At least less painful than burning alive.”
Winter’s words carried distaste. Joanna closed her eyes again and muttered curses.
It was after they finished collecting evidence like this.
[Whoosh-]
The FBI agent, who had been praying for the dead, jolted up as if repelled. Like someone blowing into a mic. Joanna’s shocked gaze turned to the speaker. Winter frowned in the same direction.
‘No wonder “Crisis Detection” was reacting….’
But absent direct threat, sensory correction warnings were inevitably faint. At most, he’d anticipated one or two freed variants.
Should one have stayed in the security room after all?
A pointless regret now. Winter felt his mind icing over coldly.
Beep- After the sharp electronic tone cut off, a familiar voice addressed them from beyond the speaker.
[Haah, haah. Director Gibson. And Lieutenant Han Gyeowol. What are you doing there?]
“Chadwick! You bastard!”
Joanna’s furious shout. Whirr. The closed-circuit camera moved.
[Oh, sorry. Your mic’s off, so I can’t hear you, Director. Whew. Though I can guess what you’re saying anyway.]
While the FBI agent’s breathing grew ragged with emotion, Team Leader Chadwick’s was ragged for a different reason, delivered with casual smugness.
[You two are impressive. Whew, sneaking down without the tops noticing isn’t easy. It’s been so long since I was in the field that my body doesn’t keep up anymore…. Anyway, don’t move. Moving now won’t help. Haha.]
Winter’s eyes narrowed. If they’d evaded the ops room surveillance, at least some CIA agents weren’t part of those “true patriots.”
‘That explains why they arrived just now.’
From “moving won’t help,” the doors were likely sealed. At least Joanna’s keycard was invalid now.
Click. Amid the speaker static came the sound of a switch flipping.
[Now, let’s talk.]
He’d activated the closed-circuit mic.
“What do you want?”
The FBI agent asked, her unyielding rage laced with cold reason. The situation was dire regardless. The CIA branch chief could save or kill the director and young officer.
[Why assume I want something?]
“If not, you’d have just locked the door and left.”
Chadwick burst into laughter.
[So confident. I just wanted to say goodbye, no real business.]
Followed by more gleeful chuckles. Grind. Joanna gnashed her teeth.
[Well, enough teasing….]
Chadwick’s tone shifted.
[Actually, there is something. Not from you, Director. From Lieutenant Han Gyeowol.]
Joanna’s gaze turned to Winter. A brief look exchanged. Winter faced the adjusting lens head-on. And raised his voice.
“If you have something to say, say it. I’m listening.”
[Nothing major. Just kill Ms. Gibson there for me.]
“…….”
[Lieutenant, don’t you want to live?]
Chadwick’s question lacked all prior levity.
============================ Author's Afterword ============================
#Q&A
Q. Carpis: @A secret organization within the intelligence agency... Feels like One Association.
A. Intelligence organizations with lots of secrecy naturally breed independent actions. Flexibility in counterintelligence is hard without granting individual discretion from the start.
Q. CrAuS: @Author-nim.. Please be the scenario writer for Eternal Cityㅜㅜㅠ
A. I’d love to try my hand at game scenarios or planning someday... But just wishful thinking.