With Respect Always

October 1 - Spinwheel City, Paquin

It waited for me on my desk. A cube shaped box bearing the insignia of the Umbrella Corporation. These were the files I had obtained during my mission to their research and development facility



I unlocked the cube and paused as twenty-five slender disks unpacked themselves upon my desk.

Each file was encrypted, sealed with a string of uppercase and lowercase letters clustered to suggest words.

• a big zoron City
• cliMate clAMp Point gone or lap lan
• creDid Laim gun
• crino CloRine trap
• CyaN go bron
• Droopci iN tote
• Eec girl SeleNe cedes benign engine
• fifteEn Geld scaf
• God spoons a limo Taxi 
• Head ai hear Steve rEcon cipy tent
• Hoh storm peer
• i graph no SEcRet phage fad monopoly
• MerSi Destrui aeon DruG pitS racy tec disc
• neeL Drragi man
• No one likes AviaN muurtox build
• noni lOng Crag
• optios corN
• ProMs Tangu bilts Cnics
• Pronto sloc tree Toad
• raison sUeT cliNt purse pro void
• sailor Vic meet Zip bimoP
• Spreem nebUla
• temp nEA gemini Metal goiter Gone lux nude
• Tom like Zab
• woops i Lean tom init Naan

When decoding simple substitution ciphers, it is my custom to look for the most common letter. From frequency studies, we know the most common letters in any given language, the most common letter pairs, and so on. Patterns soon become easily recognized. Other factors such as the length of the passage, use of familiar phrases, also play a role.

With unscrambling my process is different. I look instead for the least common letter and build the pattern from there. As the letters are out of order, the patterns in the plaintext are not so apparent.

Having some sense of the context and the associated jargon is useful in either case.

For this analysis, I decided upon three initial assumptions:

1) the unscrambled text was in English,
2) each upper case letter represented the first letter of a word,
3) there were no letter substitutions or false inclusions.

I chose one of the shortest letter strings to begin.



Tom like Zab

This string contained four vowels and six consonants. Of the consonants, two were the capital letters T and Z.

There were few words that began with the letter Z. Fewer still using only the letters from this string: Zoe or Zombie.

I removed the letters for "Zombie" and T k l a became "Talk."

Tom like Zab = Zombie Talk

---

I set aside the first unlocked file for later review and selected two more files.

creDid Laim gun

neeL Drragi man

These two strings had nine out of thirteen letters in common, including capitals: DLreiamgn

The additional letters in each string were:

cdiu
eran



I matched the initial letters to each set yielding this result:

D.... cdiu
L.... cdiu

Lucid

D.... eran
L.... eran

Learn

From the common letters came the word "Dream" and the -ing suffix.

I now had two more file names:

creDid Laim gun = Lucid Dreaming

neeL Drragi man = Dream Learning

---

I worked throughout the morning and well into the afternoon, stopping only to collect a tuna salad sandwich, an apple, and a medium sized coffee from the cafeteria. I unlocked a total of six files before turning my attention to other business.



A few days before while I was still under medical observation, a message had arrived:  two static images with voice.

**From a 'concerned citizen'  ".....Thought you aughta know that Niska's 'round. Left a callin' card and a couple of his bombs.... Might be 'nother attempt on Xoxo. Other'n that nothin' much to say...."  Transmission ends**

The images showed a note pinned to a wall with a small knife. The text on the note was written in Russian.

It read:

My dear Xoxo,

So sorry to hear about the explosion in the plant but glad to hear that production is not affected. I think people in glass houses should be more careful where they throw sarcastic stones.
 
With respect always,
Niska

---

There was no name attached to the transmission itself. However, I recognized the voice of the 'concerned citizen.'

It was Cody Winterwolf.

I collected my files and summoned a shuttle.

Quarantine

"Primum non nocere"

---

My quarantine began at the point of extraction from the Umbrella research and development facility.




My clothing was removed, my equipment was taken and logged, and I was placed in secure containment. Testing started immediately for exposure to known pathogens and to establish a baseline.



I was transported to a sealed wing of a hospital on _________, where I was subjected to an exhausting series of examinations.




What was perplexing was the interest taken by the senior medical staff in the wounds I had obtained during my fight in early July with the spice mutant. Certainly I had exacerbated the injuries to my ribs through my exertions on my last mission. Their clinical interest seemed to extend beyond that.

So, under constant observation, and keenly aware that the armed guards at my door were not there for my protection, I settled in as best as I could for the duration, confident that the data I gathered from the Umbrella files and systems would yield actionable results and would be worth the inconvenience of medical isolation.



---

September 30

The sun poured into my hospital room, as it had done every day for the past eight weeks. Shadows from the furniture traced a path upon the floor from west to east like imperfect sundials. The shadows were growing longer. The days were growing shorter.

Outside of my window, the leaves of the trees had started to turn colour. The sugar maple and the trembling aspen. Soon, the mighty oak would follow and with the ensuing riot of colour we would have our proof that the autumn had arrived.

This is how I marked the changing of the season.

---

"Major?

It was Captain Manda Soldi Westminster, dressing in her white nurse’s habit but with the additional protection of a UAP standard issue flak jacket, a breather mask and regulation stun gun.



"Well, hello Captain," I said, putting aside my book, "nice to see a friendly face."



"I looked in on you a few times," she replied, "but you were probably unaware. Good to see you upright." She added, "Let me look at your chart a moment."

The Captain slowly reached over for my chart. She made no furtive movements, nothing that would startle or alarm.

"Yes, well," I said calmly, "just observation."

"See? Your chart," she said as if I might interpret her movements as hostile and become enraged. She glanced at the document. "It says most of your injuries are healed, but the ribs are going to be sore for a while."

I smiled patiently, "So I believe."

"Duty with minimal chance of physical confrontation for a short while," she ordered. "These tests look good. Let me take off this vest." She slipped her stungun into her bag, and began to unbuckle her body armour.

"I suspect they were more concerned I would develop a taste for brains," I remarked.

"There are tests for that now." She cleared her throat. "By UAP medical protocols, I am required to speak to you in a condescending tone now.  'What did we learn about confronting spice mutants?' That was the obligatory condescending tone, supposedly patronizing."



"And well done too," I added.

"You should see the protocols if you came here for reproductive counseling," she added. “Tell me about the nature of your confrontation with the spice mutant. Did it touch you?"

"It chased me," I said. "I attacked it with a knife. It had a gun, which was unexpected."

"Did its blood or saliva touch you?" she asked pointedly.

"Not that I am aware of," I replied.

"I don't have a voucher chain for the knife," she said. "Do you know if it was quarantined?"

My knife? I couldn't remember. Didn't I drop it in Wadi Emet?

"I was retrieved by Monitor," I said, "put into medical stasis and shipped from Araxes."

"We are not broadcasting in or out of Araxes," said the Captain, "so I can't inquire until my return. I will have to check with him. Your weapons, uniform and gear were quarantined from the Hive mission."

"Yes, I believe that is correct."



The Hive is the name by which Umbrella employees, and former employees, referred to the research and development facility I recently visited.

Captain Westminster continued, "When I return to Araxes, I will find out about the knife and your other gear. Spice mutants can be problematic."

"He had been a miner..." I said. "I found a card on his body."

Somebody's child.

"Normally spice is not dangerous," explained the Captain, "but in massive doses, the body's systems react radically."

"I would like to see that research," I interrupted.

She continued, "We were concerned that possibly that reactivity was passed to you and possibly interacted with unknown materials at the Hive."

"Send a copy to my office," I added, climbing off the bed. The tile felt cool under my bare feet.

"It is within your clearance I am sure," she replied. "Let me close the door to the ward."



She marched across my room, and secured the door before returning to the foot of my bed.

"The original Audrey was Patient Zero in that research," she began.

"Go on," I urged.

"She is by no means the first spice mutant, but she is the first spice mutant we have clinical studies on. Most spice mutant like the one you ran into in Araxes are usually the result of massive infusion of raw spice."

"And we have these clinical files," I said.

"We have some of them," she replied, "retrieved from Angels of Mercy."

I nodded.

"We believe Umbrella has some also," she added. "We have not yet determined where they conduct that research."

"You worked for Umbrella," I said. It was not a question.

"I have been embedded since Med school," she admitted.

"Tell me about that."

"The Colonel cleared me to speak freely," she said.

I waited for her to continue.



"I knew Mercedes since University," she said, "She is a bit younger than me, but was quite advanced. Married a prominent professor right after graduation.  He recommended me for an internship at Umbrella. I had already been recruited into the UAP. They recommended I go forward with it."

"Mercedes' husband," I repeated.

"Yes," answered the Captain, "Professor Celestalis. He passed on some years ago."

"And so you took the internship..."

"Yes," she replied, "nothing special at first. Standard research internship. Long hours, tedious work."

"Researching what?" I asked.

"It was nothing secure at the time. Later, I completed my residency at a UAP hospital and continued on in UAP service. But I was occasionally invited to conferences, and with authorization have traded information to Umbrella, and received intel, which led to my assignment to Special Projects full time, and being lent to you with the SIU."

"So you have been playing an interesting role when it comes to Umbrella," I observed. "Tell me, what were the topics of these conferences?"

"Mostly immunology and geriatrics. Organ cloning."

"And your original work for them," I asked, "the unsecured research...  Tell me more."

"Prions and protozoans."

I frowned a little.

The Captain explained, "Prions like what spreads Mad Cow Disease and protozoans like what causes Malaria."

I nodded slowly.

"Same as thousands of grad students," she added, "Nothing cutting edge."

"Of course," I allowed, "but I want to know every little thing. Things you may not think of as important."



"Most of my assignments at the conferences is to see who talks to who. Modern medicine is still struggling with how to deal with prion and protozoan related diseases. You can't make a vaccine for them. Despite the health issues related to them, because they are not good candidates for weaponizing, not much research has been done on them. They consider them problems for poor people."

I considered her reply. Weighing the choice of words, turning the phrases over in my mind. "When do I get out of here, Doctor?" I asked finally.

"You can get out of here today," she said, "if you take rest leave for at least five days and return for a checkup."



"Fine," I agreed.  "I am sure the nurses will be pleased. I am not an ideal patient."

"They have been careful not to say."

"Thank you Doctor," I replied.

Manda continued, "We ran nano cams thru your blood, no sign of the kinds of nanites like we found in Audrey. We would like to do so again in five days, just to be safe." She then added, "There is one other thing.  We would like you to keep a dream diary."

"A dream diary?" I asked nonplussed.

"Set an alarm to wake you up about 20 minutes early," she said, "and write down what dreams you were having. Go back to sleep and see if you get another. Just write down whatever you can remember. If you have difficulty with that, we can provide you with a machine that will wake you toward the end of the dream, but it is better if you can do it yourself."

"What does this have to do with anything?" I asked suddenly skeptical.

"The theory is that if something is affecting your mind, the first signs would show up in your dreams. It also has therapeutic value."

"I see...."



But I did not see. I did not understand why this was necessary.

"If you consider it awkward," she continued, "you can consult with someone else besides me. You would be the first to recognize if something is out of place in your own subconscious. It is best if you keep the journal for your own use. After a while, you will probably not have to wake yourself to remember your dreams. We have been concerned about such things since Commander Faith."

I did not answer at first. Finally, I said, "Well, it will be good to sleep in my own bed, dreams aside."

"You have civilian street clothes to wear?" asked Manda.

"Yes." I pointed to the drawer beside my bed.

"You can be discharged as soon as you can collect your things and yourself. We will probably have the labwork back on the Hive samples by the time you return to duty."

"Good," I said firmly.

"It is a troubling sign," she added.

"Troubling?"

"Identification is key in the response to biowarfare," she explained. "Biological agents that require a lot of time to identify reduces containment."

Slowly, thoughtfully, I begin to gather my things.

Gehenna (Part Four)

I came into a place void of all light,
which bellows like the sea in tempest,
when it is combated by warring winds.
- Dante, Inferno, Canto V, lines 28-30

Water fell like rain.



Whether it was leaking from broken pipes or represented a massive condensation problem, I could not tell. Perhaps this was water draining from the laboratories upstairs, with their putrid contents….

I will never feel clean again.



Weapon drawn, I trudged through the utility tunnels, splashing through the water pooled upon the ground.  The lights mounted on the walls were ineffective, so I had to rely again on my flashlight.

Where were the rats?

Groans and gurgles echoed throughout the tunnels but I could not place the source of the sound.



I climbed up onto the pipes that ran suspended from the ceiling. There was some degree of relief from the dripping of water, otherwise I had no illusions.



There was no refuge in this place.

----

I pushed open a metal floor grate and climbed out into a dark hallway.

I was again among a suite of laboratories, divided by intersecting corridors, like those on Level One. Given that I had not climbed stairs to reach here, I judged that I was still in a basement level of some sort, likely on the same elevation as Dining Hall B.



The lights were completely out in this wing and the rooms were completely flooded. In several places, thin streams of water leaked forcefully through chips in the reinforced glass.

Examination of the damage revealed that each break was a percussion cone fracture with the larger mouth of the funnel on the outside of the room. This meant the force of impact was coming from inside the laboratory.  Someone inside the flooded chamber had tried to break the glass by repeatedly striking the window. He or she had used a pick, or more likely the pick shaped poll on a fire axe, and probably did so as the water was rising.

I could start to piece together the story of what may have happened here.



I had found evidence of two mechanical failures that had resulted in deaths of three or more people – the robot arm in sterile packaging, and the flooding of the laboratories on two separate levels.   If these events were concurrent, that could indicate a system wide malfunction.

The two women on Level One who appear to have drowned as a result have now reanimated. Whether these creatures were ever clinically dead or were somehow caught at the very moment of expiration I had no way of knowing. Other former employees of the facility appear to be in the same state though I had not ascertained the cause of death in each case.

One could posit that exposure to an unknown agent produced these effects, though I do not know the nature of this substance, the means by which it was delivered, nor the time lines involved. I also do not know if exposure had been accidental or deliberate. Exposure may have been a result of the systems failure or may have predated the malfunction.




---



The sign read 'Laboratories' as if everything up to now had been practice. It pointed down the hall to the right. I followed the arrow and came to a window overlooking a dark room. The windows were reinforced with wire.



This was new.



The door slid upwards with a hiss. The room was uncomfortably cold.




Inside were eight tubes, each the size of an adult, each filled with a luminous pale blue substance. They were arranged in three rows. A ninth tube at the middle of the back row was broken. The same blue substance collected in a thick cloud upon the floor, preventing me from inspecting the intact tubes.



Off to one side, there was another workstation.  The files were still active.



My clothes were damp from the water in the utility tunnels.  I began to shiver as I attached my device to the computer to clone the hard disk. The absurd notion crossed my mind that I might catch a chill, as if that was the worst thing that could happen to me here.

My thoughts were interrupted by the device signaling that the copying process was now complete. Thankfully, I removed the device and replaced it my jacket pocket.

Avoiding the cloud on the floor, I moved towards the back of the room to have a quick look at the broken tube. It had been shattered leaving only the support base and some broken glass. Nearby, a large fan blade snapped off its mounting lay on the floor. It left a hole wide enough that I could step through without trouble.



What manner of being could do such a thing?



Cautiously, I climbed through the opening to the space beyond. My flashlight came to rest upon a maintenance ladder stretching upwards. I took hold of the rungs and began to climb.

---

The path of life is upwards for the wise,
that he may depart from Sheol beneath.
Proverbs 15:24



As I climbed, the floor beneath me disappeared into the blackness.  I pushed aside the fear that something could drop onto me while I was on the ladder.

Darkness above.
Darkness below.

I did not know where I was heading, only that I was going in the right direction.



“Keep fast thy hold, for by such stairs as these,”
The Master said, panting as one fatigued,
“Must we perforce depart from so much evil.”
- Dante, Inferno, Canto XXXIV

---

After an eternity of climbing - changing ladders a number of times - I came to a small windowless room with a door on one wall. I shone my flashlight across the surface of the floor, looking for marks in the dust and grime. The results were inconclusive.



The door was unlocked.



It opened to a dark tunnel with train tracks.



I had come full circle. I was back on Level Four.

Entering the area from a different angle I now had the advantage. Using the train as cover, I cleared the platform before rushing forward to the first set of blast doors of my return journey.




The warehouse and show laboratory still lay ahead.  I had a good sense of the terrain and expected some resistance.

I was very low on ammunition but I used what I had to good effect.




Throughout the facility, I had found signs of violence.  The afflicted did not attack each other.  This suggested that not everyone in the facility had been exposed to the substance or the material had not been uniform in its effects.



While not excluding this, it was also possible others had entered the facility. Bullet casings in the stairwell suggested security personnel involvement.



One question still burned in my mind: if others had passed through this facility before me, had containment been preserved?