The APC rolled slowly, saving fuel now. Inny took the wheel, while Salzman was resting and caressing his arm, wounded in two places. Adrian kept silent, sitting on the car’s side, which was slowly cooling down after the “frying pan”. His hands and face were scorched, his skin was itching and burning with pain. He watched the Forest, slowly passing by, sometimes pointed at anomalies, and Inny carefully drove around. For the most part, the road was smooth and safe. The shadows congealed, strips of dark grey clouds crossed the milky sky. A rain was setting to fall.
“We got extremely lucky,” Adrian muttered, not addressing anyone in particular.
“What do you mean?” Salzman responded from the front seat.
“The tunnel. I’ve been there a few times. It’s very dense with anomalies. It was a suicide, driving through it at full speed like that.”
“Ah! This car is well protected. It’s designed to rover in the Zone.”
Adrian did not respond, and after a few seconds of silence, Salzman noted,
“You still don’t believe I know what I’m doing, right?”
“Not really,” he admitted, smirking grimly. “I think you just stirred the hornet’s nest this morning. The army guys won’t let you get away with it.”
“Adrian, we work for HADES.”
It took him a few seconds to comprehend the statement.
“HADES?”
“Yep.”
“The company responsible for the Accident?”
“You could call it that way. But I would not say ‘the company is responsible’. The Accident was never properly investigated.”
“I thought HADES was terminated after that. I mean… I don’t know much about the history, and it was twenty years ago, but I have never heard of the company doing anything ever since.”
“No, it was not. Its production has always been a strategic asset. At the moment of the Accident, HADES was the most powerful enterprise in the whole world. Its reputation was shaken, and it had to invest a lot of money to redeem the damage, but it stayed afloat, and now it’s gaining lost positions.”
“Ok, but how much power does it have in the Zone? I always thought the Zone was ruled by the Treaty military forces.”
“Again, incorrect. No one rules the Zone. It’s more accurate to say that whoever has more weapons and a better stronghold can rule a small patch of the Zone. The peculiarities of trails here make it very difficult to enforce the law.”
Salzman pulled out a pack of his cigars and lit one. Adrian rolled himself a cigarette and puffed, calming down his nerves. For some time, both remained silent. Inny grimaced, but endured and only waved the smoke away.
“So, are we now riding toward your stronghold?” Adrian finally asked.
“Indeed. The Institute. HADES has its own PMC. They protect the territory. It officially belongs to the company. Think of it as an embassy of a different state in the Zone. We sort of have diplomatic immunity. I did cause some damage to the army today, but I can justify that to the leadership, and they will do the diplomacy to protect us.”
“How will you justify it? You decided to adopt a boy from the orphanage to do a therizer job, and that’s the reason you literally destroyed a few military vehicles, and possibly killed or wounded quite a few people?”
“I did not just decide to adopt a boy from the orphanage. I found Adrian Thorne. That alone is a good reason to cause all that damage. If I had not acted fast, they would have taken you away today, and I would never have found you again.”
“What’s so special about me then?” Adrian asked, repeating exactly the same question that Burakovsky had earlier that morning.
“You might be the key to getting deeper into the Zone.”
“I don’t understand,” Adrian said after a pause.
“You were born here. You are immune to many things in the Zone that kill people who come from the outside. You can feel the pulse of the Zone and navigate its trails. But most importantly, I suspect that you might be the son of Philip Thorne.”
“You knew my parents?”
“I did. Before the Accident. Philip was one of the lead research scientists in Flux.”
“Flux?”
“The R&D center of HADES that exploded during the Accident. Philip was among those who supervised the experiment that led to the catastrophe.”
“What happened to him?” Adrian felt his heart pounding.
“Good question! You can find the name of Philip Thorne in the list of the Accident’s casualties. Everyone thought him dead. But the Accident happened twenty years ago. You’re seventeen. If we assume that Philip was indeed your father, it means he was alive for at least three more years after the disaster. And, most likely, he was killed shortly after your conception or birth.”
“Or it means you found the wrong guy.”
“I don’t think so. You look very much alike.”
Adrian puffed, his thoughts swirling.
“Do you think he might still be alive?”
“Philip? Hard to say. But now I really want to find out what happened to him.”
“Can I help you?”
“Of course. I am pretty sure that the secret of the fate of Philip Thorne is hidden somewhere in the center of the Zone. If he managed to survive the Accident, get out of Flux, and later even give birth to you somewhere in the Zone—then you could be the one who can help HADES get back to Flux. Which no one has managed to do in the past twenty years.”
“Why does HADES want to do that?”
“That’s the company secret. I can’t reveal it for now, while you’re not officially hired. But don’t worry. You will know everything in due time.”
Adrian snorted.
“So what are we going to do now?”
“Oh, now it’s ‘we’,” Salzman smirked. “That’s a commendable change, and the first step toward mutual trust and friendship, if that’s even possible between a therizer and a ‘spec’, that’s how you call us?”
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“Specs. Four-eyed,” Adrian grinned. “Hope you don’t get offended, Dr. Salzman. It’s just a jargon.”
“Call me Albert. I’m not easily offended. And to answer your question: as soon as we arrive at the Institute, I’m going to give you a tour, show some results of our research, and introduce you to some amazing people. Look around and say frankly: do you recognize these places?”
Adrian looked around. Yes, he could have sworn he had never been here. Moreover, he couldn't say this was still his Forest, even though they hadn't left the line of trees. Something had subtly changed in the air. It smelled of fear. And death.
"We're moving south," Salzman seemed to guess his thoughts. "Closer and closer to the Zone, Adrian. Everyone senses it, because there's only a short distance left to that border, that barbed-wire fence beyond which the exclusion begins. A strange place we'll never understand."
Beyond the reddish trunks of straight pines, beyond the gray columns of oaks and ash trees reaching for the sky, tall hills and the spires of antennas at observation posts flashed by. Inny turned, the armored car rumbled, drove through a puddle, splashing black mud, and rolled along the mess filling the deep ruts. The sky darkened completely, and the first, still sparse, drops of rain splashed onto the armor.
"And what will happen to your bunker?"
“The bunker?..” Salzman seemed to snap out of his thoughts. “Nothing. We will send someone later to evacuate the remaining equipment. Or maybe the company will appoint someone else to continue experiments in that area.”
“Uncle Albert, what’s my agenda for today?” Inny asked. “Do you need help in the lab?”
“No. Today you can rest. Purify the suits and you’re free till tomorrow. Ah, maybe one thing, though. Can you go to the eleventh checkpoint and measure the background radiation there? Together with Adrian.”
“Oh, I like that!” Inny brightened up. “With the new detector?”
“With the new one, yes. Ok, focus on the road now.”
The armored car rolled smoothly up to the barrier, beyond which began a concrete fence surrounded by trees. The rain had picked up, but the APC's passengers paid it no mind. Beyond the fence, a tall panel building was visible, clearly a remnant of the pre-Accident era. Tall security towers stood at the corners, and the building's flat roof was densely packed with radar dishes and objects covered with tarpaulins and camouflage netting, the purpose of which Adrian had no doubt. Air defense.
A man in military fatigues and a hood, a rifle slung over his back, emerged from a small booth. He waved his hand and pulled a lever, raising the barrier.
“Edward!” Salzman called out.
“Professor!” the guard shouted back, removing the spike strip from the road. This Institute has some protection indeed, Adrian thought. Inny stepped on the gas and slowly rolled closer. “Holy Zone! What happened to the car? And what happened to you? Looks like you got into a ‘frying pan’ that also fired bullets around?
“I’ll tell you later,” Salzman grumbled. “We will have an emergency meeting in an hour or so. The car will need some maintenance.”
The guard nodded slowly. His eyes were still wide with bewilderment.
“But are you back for good? Or returning to the Forest soon?”
“Transferring here! Will supervise some experiments personally. We’re on the verge of a discovery, you know?”
“Are we indeed? Great news!” Edward nodded. “Hopefully, it’s worth a wrecked APC. My regards, young lady. And who is this?”
“A new employee. My PhD student. Just arrived from the outside. Does not have the pass yet, but I will do the paperwork today. His name is Adrian Thorne.”
“I’ll write it down, but it’s on your responsibility.”
“Fine with me. Adrian, this is Edward, our chief guardian and sentry; without him, the whole Institute would have long since crumbled like hell. How’s the weather, Edward?”
“Ha, at least the rain is not acid. But the lads on the towers complain, it’s getting too wet up there. I’m fine, though. The booth is warm, the internet is fast, I sit and watch the streamings all day, what else could I wish for?”
“Actually, cut the streamings for a while,” Salzman said, getting serious at once. “I need you to be fully on guard today, just as your lads. Eyes wide open, ear to the ground, copy?”
“Roger, Dr. Salzman. May I ask, what should we expect? Mutants?”
“Worse,” Salzman muttered, as Inny drove the car past the barrier. “The Treaty guys. But I’ll try my best now to prevent it.”
The armored car drove onto a flat, asphalted lot, on one side of which an alley led toward the garden plots and garages, while ahead loomed the Institute itself — four stories high, with a massive ceremonial entrance above which hung the inscription “Hyper-space Advanced Devices, Engineering and Systems”.
There was no one around. The rain rustled softly, gathering into little puddles where the asphalt was pitted. Inny stopped the vehicle, Salzman opened the door, and jumped to the ground.
“Come on,” Salzman said cheerfully. “No need to get soaked. Inanna, tell the mechanics to check the oil and diesel, and also to put new rivets on the armor. In short, tell them everything that happened, they’ll figure out what needs fixing and what needs replacing… And then get to the purification station, quick! Oh, and put the artifacts into the sample storage, will you?”
Inny saluted, and skillfully drove the armored car farther down the alley toward the tall iron hangars. Salzman hurried toward the porch.
Inside, it was dry and warm; heat radiated from the unpainted, dusty radiators along the walls. They stamped their boots on the mat by the entrance—the mat bore the magical inscription “Hygiene Above All!”—shook the moisture from their clothes, and Adrian looked with some sympathy at the professor, who was wringing out his suit riddled with bullet holes.
Passing through glass doors and shuffling across the tiled floor, they entered a spacious lobby, walking past an empty reception desk. The institute was silent; only somewhere beyond the walls, turbines and some kind of machinery hummed. There wasn’t even a trace of janitors. Seeing Adrian’s questioning glance, Salzman explained:
“This building wasn’t built for us… We merely occupied it, used it for our own purposes. Naturally, four floors for twenty employees is a bit much. It used to be, I think, a rural school. Now the top four floors are mostly empty—that’s where accounting is stored, and the analytics department works, which consists of two programmers. The sleeping quarters and the hospital are there too. Plus, three meteorologists on the roof, always beside their radar equipment. And a phone operator who keeps us in touch with the world. The researchers work in the basement; we’ve got better isolation down there from elements… You know what, let’s go upstairs first. I imagine you’re dead tired after all that’s happened, and those burns need treatment. So, let’s pay a visit to our sawbones.”
The elevator button’s light was off, so Salzman confidently bypassed the lift and began climbing the old, dirty concrete stairs.
The sawbones occupied the third floor, in what had apparently once been the teachers’ lounge. Inside, Adrian saw a door labeled “Quarantine,” several cots, a table covered in papers, and cabinets stuffed with medical supplies. Salzman entered without knocking, which startled the bald, red-faced man in a white coat, who had been humming to himself while filling out someone’s chart. The man jumped, dropped his pen, frowned, and adjusted the pince-nez on his nose.
“Albert, what’s the meaning of this? Not only was I not expecting you for at least another month, but you dare burst into my domain like this? Do you have any idea I was just about to test my new anti-rad vaccine on the mice?”
“Spare your mice, and my nose,” Salzman grimaced, “and the nose of our new graduate student here, who, barely arrived, has already made acquaintance with the local flora and fauna. Can’t you see? Bullet wounds and burns. Meet Adrian—this is Dr. Crates, the best surgeon and therapist in the northern Zone.”
“Pleasure,” Crates muttered, approaching them. “Fauna, you say? I know that ‘fauna.’ I’d bet those bullets came from standard 9 mm caliber rifles, and those rifles are at the military base near the orphanage, thirty kilometers from here. Right? I told you—better not mess with them. Only brings trouble. If anything happens, we won’t get out of here fast enough. And the burns… ‘Frying pan,’ of course, but damn me if I know where you managed to stumble into one. Though,” he went on, pointing Adrian toward a cot while rummaging through drawers for burn ointment, “a pig always finds mud, and you, Albert, always find some anomaly to fall into… This isn’t quite the Zone yet, but nature doesn’t take kindly to jokes.”
“To hell with nature,” Salzman waved a hand. “Silvester will be beating his head against a wall from envy when he finds out what I dug up with this kid’s help. Just make a proper dressing for me and give me a painkiller shot, I think there’s trouble with the tendons.”
“Don’t jinx it,” Crates advised. “And the grad student—will he be sleeping now?” he asked, pointing at Adrian, who had sprawled on the cot and was just getting ready for a proper rest.
“Let him sleep. We’ll assign him quarters in the evening. Wake him around two, and show him how to get down to the lab. Or no, I’ll send Inny for him.”
“Send her, by all means. I’m always glad to see Inanna…”
Adrian turned away, feeling his face sink into pleasant coolness. He was far too exhausted to listen to the rest of their conversation.
