hallway floor.
“What the hell?”
Jack kept his attention on the Geiger counter, which was now chirping away, louder by the second as his finger shifted against the volume control.
“Nothing to worry about, officer. Just a little spill in one of the labs upstairs, happens all the time. They got me down here looking for runoff—whoops, that’s odd.”
Jack hit the volume again, causing the counter to chirp loud enough to send a piercing echo up and down the hall. Then he looked up toward the ceiling and held the Geiger in the air, just a few inches from the policeman’s face.
“Getting a little reading here. You might want to move your chair to the other side of the hallway while I check this out.”
The police officer was staring at the Geiger counter with eyes as wide as saucers. Then he looked at Jack’s fogged up face mask. Jack could see the terror in the poor man’s features.
“What kind of spill?”
Jack was running the Geiger counter along the wall, just to the left of the police tape, completely ignoring the officer.
“These damned hard elements, they get out of your controlled system, no telling where they’re going to end up. Seep right on through the floor tiles, into the piping, get into the airflow—and then I’m up all night mopping up. Some freaking grad student overturns a beaker, we’ve got aradioactive incident on our hands, am I right?”
The officer nearly choked on his tongue. He took a step back.
“Radioactive?”
Jack glanced at him through the faceplate.
“Like I said, you probably want to move your chair over to the other side of the hallway. I’m going to have to get some scrubbers down here and deal with this.”
The officer shook his head, backing away down the hallway, toward the elevators.
“Fuck that. I’ll be upstairs by the security desk.”
Jack shrugged.
“Suit yourself.” Then he glanced down at the school newspaper, on the floor by the collapsed folding chair. “Probably going to have to burn the newspaper. Maybe the chair, too.”
The man was almost jogging now. As he disappeared around the corner, Jack could hear the officer’s radio coughing to life. Jack knew he would call it in to his superiors—but at four in the morning, Jack figured it would take some time for them to sort out what to do. This was a scientific institution, with plenty of labs and storage rooms filled with dangerous materials. And hazmat suits were like the modern-day version of medieval plague masks; you showed up in a hazmat suit, nobody stuck around very long to ask questions.
When he was sure the officer was far enough away, he exchanged the Geiger counter for a small pocketknife and turned to the lab door covered in police tape.
He made short work of the tape, then turned his attention to the door’s magnetic lock, attached shoulder-high to the doorframe. It was a simple keycard system; Jack knew that Dashia and Andy would have been able to come up with a sophisticated hack to get through the lock, but Jack had never been one for subtleties. He jammed the sharp edge of the knife into the creasewhere the magnetic lock attached to the door, then pulled as hard as he could. There was a spray of sparks, and then the magnetic lock tore free. He stepped back and put his boot to the door, four inches from the doorknob.
The door crashed inward, the doorknob and part of the frame clattering to the floor. If the place was alarmed, Jack knew his “me” time was about to get much shorter. He quickly found the light switch, and two oversized fluorescent panels flickered across the low ceiling, illuminating a sophisticated, if somewhat sparse, computer lab. Corrugated steel shelves, counters filled with servers, routers, spaghetti curls of fiber-optic wires. Even some beakers and testtubes, though Jack had no idea what programmers needed with glassware.
Then his attention was drawn to the glass desk on the far side of the room—and the overturned leather chair beneath it,
“What the hell?”
Jack kept his attention on the Geiger counter, which was now chirping away, louder by the second as his finger shifted against the volume control.
“Nothing to worry about, officer. Just a little spill in one of the labs upstairs, happens all the time. They got me down here looking for runoff—whoops, that’s odd.”
Jack hit the volume again, causing the counter to chirp loud enough to send a piercing echo up and down the hall. Then he looked up toward the ceiling and held the Geiger in the air, just a few inches from the policeman’s face.
“Getting a little reading here. You might want to move your chair to the other side of the hallway while I check this out.”
The police officer was staring at the Geiger counter with eyes as wide as saucers. Then he looked at Jack’s fogged up face mask. Jack could see the terror in the poor man’s features.
“What kind of spill?”
Jack was running the Geiger counter along the wall, just to the left of the police tape, completely ignoring the officer.
“These damned hard elements, they get out of your controlled system, no telling where they’re going to end up. Seep right on through the floor tiles, into the piping, get into the airflow—and then I’m up all night mopping up. Some freaking grad student overturns a beaker, we’ve got aradioactive incident on our hands, am I right?”
The officer nearly choked on his tongue. He took a step back.
“Radioactive?”
Jack glanced at him through the faceplate.
“Like I said, you probably want to move your chair over to the other side of the hallway. I’m going to have to get some scrubbers down here and deal with this.”
The officer shook his head, backing away down the hallway, toward the elevators.
“Fuck that. I’ll be upstairs by the security desk.”
Jack shrugged.
“Suit yourself.” Then he glanced down at the school newspaper, on the floor by the collapsed folding chair. “Probably going to have to burn the newspaper. Maybe the chair, too.”
The man was almost jogging now. As he disappeared around the corner, Jack could hear the officer’s radio coughing to life. Jack knew he would call it in to his superiors—but at four in the morning, Jack figured it would take some time for them to sort out what to do. This was a scientific institution, with plenty of labs and storage rooms filled with dangerous materials. And hazmat suits were like the modern-day version of medieval plague masks; you showed up in a hazmat suit, nobody stuck around very long to ask questions.
When he was sure the officer was far enough away, he exchanged the Geiger counter for a small pocketknife and turned to the lab door covered in police tape.
He made short work of the tape, then turned his attention to the door’s magnetic lock, attached shoulder-high to the doorframe. It was a simple keycard system; Jack knew that Dashia and Andy would have been able to come up with a sophisticated hack to get through the lock, but Jack had never been one for subtleties. He jammed the sharp edge of the knife into the creasewhere the magnetic lock attached to the door, then pulled as hard as he could. There was a spray of sparks, and then the magnetic lock tore free. He stepped back and put his boot to the door, four inches from the doorknob.
The door crashed inward, the doorknob and part of the frame clattering to the floor. If the place was alarmed, Jack knew his “me” time was about to get much shorter. He quickly found the light switch, and two oversized fluorescent panels flickered across the low ceiling, illuminating a sophisticated, if somewhat sparse, computer lab. Corrugated steel shelves, counters filled with servers, routers, spaghetti curls of fiber-optic wires. Even some beakers and testtubes, though Jack had no idea what programmers needed with glassware.
Then his attention was drawn to the glass desk on the far side of the room—and the overturned leather chair beneath it,
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