Doom 3™: Worlds on Fire

19

MARS CITY—DELTA LAB

DR. MALCOLM BETRUGER STOOD AT THE MASSIVEwindow of his office that overlooked all of Delta. From here he could see every part of the labs, save for those specimen and equipment rooms that lined the three corridors leading from the lab.

He looked down at all the scientists hurrying, preparing things, and he thought:Which one is it? Which one of them is a traitor?

One of them was sending information back to Kelliher. Betruger knew that simply from the messages he’d received from Kelliher directly and the communications from his flunkies in the UAC. And not only that, now two of Kelliher’s key people were coming back here, because Kelliher was “alarmed”—by what was going on here in the lab.

A year of amazing discoveries, incredible events, and he was…alarmed.

Betruger, however, had already guessed early on that there was a spy. But no matter, he had started to change things long before that. Most of the scientists below thought that they were still trying to crack the problem of animate teleportation.

Missing the big idea completely.

A few—maybe—suspected that Betruger had lost interest in mere teleportation. They might have noticed that Betruger seemed preoccupied by somethingelse. But if he confided in no one, then what proof would they have? Because as far as Betruger was concerned, these experiments, this lab, Mars itself—it wasn’t about teleportation at all. He walked to his door and started down for the main floor of the lab.

Axelle Graulich ran her hand over a section of what looked like exposed metal that lined the cave wall. It all reminded her ofsomething. The curves, the straight lines, some running straight then deeper right into unexposed sections of the cave. Other sections curled up to the ceiling.

A tech team of space marines recorded the outline and size of the newly exposed section.

What was it?

Most of her colleagues thought that these could be runes, but that was all. Reminders of the long-vanished Martian civilization. But then, Axelle had asked them, where was the fossil record? All this digging, and no bones, nothing?

Her chief planetary climatologist, Dr. Paul Stifel, had an idea about that. Weather. “Fossilization requires special conditions, Axelle. Earth may be filled with fossils, but that’s because Earth is—it appears—a special planet. Lots of water, lots of sediment, the layers forming. Perfect to preserve a fossil record. Here, we don’t have a clue what the planetary systems have been for the past million or two years.”

That was true enough. In fact, they knew so little about Martian geological history that she assumed they were decades away from even having a theory about any Martian civilization and whatever catastrophe had destroyed it. If that was indeed what happened.

“Make sure you get detailed shots of those sections above us!” she shouted to the techs recording all this. Again—as if on impulse—she reached up and touched another curving section, as if it somehow invited touch.

There was something else that bothered Axelle: Betruger. Months ago, after this major breakthrough on the site, he changed orders on how all the Site 3 information and data would be treated. Everything now went directly to Betruger.

And when they found an artifact, dubbed U1, it went immediately to Delta Lab and, Axelle guessed, Betruger’s team. U1—looking partly like a shield, party like a sculpture, the material unknown, impervious to any traditional scans. And now, by his order, in Betruger’s hands.

After that, Axelle didn’t know who saw it. Whenever she raised the question with Betruger, he would turn on her as if she was challenging his authority.

“No, Dr. Betruger, I just—”

“You will follow the procedures I have outlined, Dr. Graulich. Or you can be reassigned.”

The thought filled her with dread. The work at the site was amazing. To be removed now would be devastating.

She stepped back from the new opening in the ground.

“Axelle, can I tell the team they can press on?”

She turned to Tom Stein. He had been the first to question the new rules for processing information. Axelle tried to offer some arguments about security that she didn’t believe in. Stein had countered them all, telling Axelle that she should go directly to General Hayden and complain.Why does Betruger control everything we do here? Who knows what he’s doing with the information?

Who indeed?Not her, for sure.

“What’s that, Tom?”

“I’d like them to start drilling down a bit farther. These things”—he raised a hand to one of the metallic squiggles—“seem to converge there. The one here looks different. They’re changing as we expose more.”

“Different? How?”

“Well, now they look almost like, well, arteries. They get thicker. And if they ‘come’ from anyplace, it’s down there.”

Arteries. That was an interesting view. And at least she didn’t need Betruger’s approval to carry on the work here. “Yeah—I think we have all this area documented. So slowly now…they can get back to the excavation.”

“Great. I’ll be watching and—”

“Right, but if these things do seem to converge, make sure the team takes extra care. If they are runes, if they do mean something, if there is a damn message in all this, we don’t want to miss a piece that might turn out to be the Rosetta stone.”

“You got it.”

Stein walked away. She had noticed how the entire team seemed to work double time now, hurrying, cutting breaks short, not even wanting to go back to the city itself.

They want to stay here. Like I do.

Working away, opening more of the cave, the tunnels to the side, slowly, carefully bringing it back out into the Martian light. She took another look at the walls and ceiling.

Yes, like arteries. But also…like, what did they call them decades ago? Circuit boards. Like those old circuit boards in the museums. The squiggles connecting, separating. Arteries, circuits—or something else?

Time, she expected—hoped—would tell all.

MacDonald stood by Chamber B—the receiving chamber—as technicians continued to examine the large, clear chamber from inside and out. After what happened during the last test, the unit could have been damaged in a number of places.

“How’s it looking?” he said to one of the men scanning the surface for any signs of cracks.

“So far, so good. Looks good as new.”

MacDonald nodded. Not the answer he wanted. Better that it be damaged. Needing repair. Buy some time. As soon as Betruger announced another test, MacDonald hoped that something would be found to postpone it.

“Keep looking,” he said. “You find anything—any damage at all—let me know.”

He looked up to see Betruger walking down to the main lab floor.

That was another thing. Betruger had stopped talking to the team. Oh, he still gave orders, still told the team what to do, what was going to happen. But for anything else, Betruger was a closed book. MacDonald began to think;Something is wrong with him. The strain, the pressure—something—was making him snap.

He had tried to tell Kelliher that in his secret reports. But the UAC boss never came back asking for more details.Maybe all Kelliher wants is for the damn thing to work.

MacDonald felt someone touch his arm, surprising him. He turned around. “Ishii? What is it?”

He looked at Dr. Jonathan Ishii, the lead systems data analyst. He was the one person who knew as much as Betruger about what was really happening in the chambers.

“They got one!” Ishii whispered the words, but it was shrill, breathy, frantic.

“Easy. What do you mean?”

Ishii looked around.We do that a lot lately , MacDonald knew.All of us. Looking around. Seeing if Betruger is watching us. This place had become a paranoid’s heaven.

Dr. Ishii leaned close. MacDonald could almost smell the man’s fear.The guy’s going around the bend, MacDonald thought. He’d best put a word in with the medical team.Someone better have a look at him, and fast. The psych team on Mars City was beginning to work overtime.

Another breathy whisper…

“They got another human volunteer. I’ve been told by Betruger. We test again in twenty-four hours.”

Ishii grabbed MacDonald’s arm. No one trusted anyone, and he certainly couldn’t trust Ishii. “Okay, another test. Against my better judgment. Against yours too, maybe?”

Ishii’s eyes widened. “But you don’t get it! We can’t let him do it.”

“We can’t stop it, Jonathan. Betruger runs the lab. If some poor marine—”

Ishii’s eyes widened and darted right. MacDonald guessed that they soon wouldn’t be alone.

Then Betruger was there.

“Dr. MacDonald, Dr. Ishii—all in good order here?”

MacDonald answered. “Everything’s checking out, Dr. Betruger. No problems.”

Ishii still hadn’t said anything.

“And you’ve triple-checked all the data systems, Ishii?”

The other scientist nodded. He looked like a wreck.Definitely have to get him to the medical team.

“Good. I’ve set the time. For tomorrow. The new test.” Betruger nodded, as if speaking the words to himself. “Twelve hundred MMT.”

Ishii said something too low for either of them to hear.

Betruger, who wasn’t afraid to use his squat bullish body to make a point, took a step toward Ishii. “What’s that? What did you say, Ishii?”

“Midday. The—that’s midday tomorrow.”

Betruger hesitated, then MacDonald saw him smile.

“So it is. You’d best get to work. Not a lot of time, eh?” Then Betruger walked away. And when MacDonald turned back to Ishii, he too had hurried off.

And not for the first time MacDonald wondered:Are we allgoing to lose it up here?