9 MONTHS LATER.

November 1st, 2099, 01:55 AM

In the quiet and mostly abandoned-by-now lab, bleary-eyed Ezra and Tehreem read and reread the simulation printout for the hundredth time that night while the new guy who replaced Fly snored away gently. It suited them fine. Entirely fine—for what they were doing.

"Run it again," Ezra continued their hushed conversation. "It could be a mistake."

"We've run it all day and night, Ezzie. It's the same every time."

"Run it again. Please." Ezra pleaded, her heart hammering away in her chest like a freight train. "It can't be ready. Not yet."

"Ezra!" Tehreem shook the multiple, identical readouts from multiple runs on the epidemiology simulator. "Won't change the fact that Chimera98 is ready. It's the most virulent thing now known to man with a mortality rate of 45-90%, and transmission rate as close to influenza as we dared."

"It'll mutate in the wild." Ezra stared at the numbers of virtual casualties from all their virtual pandemics as she bit her thumbnail. It would wipe approximately 5 billion off the face of the earth within years of release. By 3005, 3010, the world population would be what it was back in 1987. "What if it becomes more virulent?"

Tehreem whispered beside her, "Then God help humanity."

Ezra gripped her friend's arm, hissing, "We made this, Tehreem. We. Not God."

"Under duress," Tehreem whispered back. "We had no choice. You had no choice."

"I did." Ezra shook her head. "I could have refused to do it."

"Then you would have been dead and replaced by someone who was willing."

Ezra dropped in her seat, pulled a blank paper and scribbled—We have to move fast. I need to talk to Krish alone—as Tehreem hopped up on her desk.

Tehreem snatched the pen, alarmed: Are you kidding me? They've been watching you and him like a hawk the past few months since they saw you together.

Ezra's eyes burned wildly: We need to get this to him. She tapped the readouts, leaning closer, as if adjusting her seat: That and a sample of everything we have.

And how will you get it to him? Tehreem wrote haltingly.

Ezra shrugged, snatching the pen back: Can we secure it in a travel canister and choose a pickup point somewhere? A place only we three would know. But I'd need a reason to go see him long enough to relay information and not raise suspicions.

Tehreem read the note and replied: Can do the first. As for the second, do you trust me?

Ezra nodded. Of course.

After a moment, Tehreem shoved the scribbled paper in her pocket, heaved in a huge breath and jumped off the desk, yelling in fake delight, "Oh my god, Ezzie, we did it! We DID IT!"

Ezra snapped at her friend's hand, "What are you doing?"

"Giving you the opportunity to see Rai without raising suspicions. Trust me." Tehreem shook her off, grabbed one of the simulation readouts from the table and screamed again, "WE DID IT! I CAN'T BELIEVE WE DID IT!"

She was loud enough to raise the dead, let alone a sleeping soldier.

"Shit!" Ezra mumbled. "What did you do?"

"You'll thank me in a moment." Tehreem gave her hand a squeeze just before the soldier burst through the door.

"What's going on?"

Tehreem beamed at him. "Tell the General Chimera98 is ready. It's time to celebrate."

The man, one of Gracery's, gave them a cool once over before he nodded and got on his radio.

#

It surprised Ezra when, within minutes of the General's visit and debrief at the lab, he approved a celebratory party in the canteen. Announcements blared from intercoms, waking up sleeping soldiers from their beds. Within half an hour, those who'd heard the General announce 'happy hour' filled the canteen, and all kinds of contraband liquors and drinks came out of the woodworks.

As the men partied, most not knowing why or caring, Ezra stood to the side, holding a red paper cup with some rare sake one soldier poured for her, and watched the commotion. How was this meant to help her get a moment with Rai alone? She couldn't even see him in that crowd, let alone be able to pull him to the side and pass their message without eavesdroppers. "Where the hell are you?" she mumbled to herself when an unexpected voice replied.

"Looking for someone, are we?"

It was Watergate. Ezra tried to smile. "Just Tehreem. She was here a moment ago..."

Watergate nodded, holding up his own red cup against her. "To your success, Dr Mayur."

Ezra hated the burn down her throat as she obliged him with a sip of her drink. Act the part, Rai had said.

While the men danced to music blaring over the speakers and drinking themselves silly, the General leaned closer. "And the status of the two requested items? How soon can we green-light Project Rescue? The board's getting restless, doc. The pop isn't going to control itself."

Ezra's heart thundered away. Just as she expected. She took a swig of her drink. "Items 349 is nowhere near the efficiency we recommend, currently testing at about 45% efficiency. As for the second request, that work can only begin now that 98 is locked in."

Watergate's jaw strained as if he was holding back anger. He took Ezra by her shoulder, a pretend hug, though his grip was unmistakably hostile. "I need you to do better, Dr Mayur. Your one year is almost up." He leaned in close, closer than she'd like, his hot breath streaming down her ear and neck as he pulled her flush against his side. "You have until Christmas to deliver. Or else the deal is off. And you know what that means."

He let her go, raised his glass again, threw back his drink, and crushed the cup in his hand. Then he slipped into the crowd, cheered his men on, told them to party harder, booze it up, enjoy the company and get ready to be on duty by the morning.

When he was gone, Ezra felt a strange chill settle in her bones. Christmas. That gave her less than two months to succeed.

"What are you waiting for?" Tehreem appeared at her side suddenly, startling Ezra. "Go."

She shoved her into the crowd. Before Ezra knew what was happening, the boys were pouring more drink into her cup as the canteen turned into a dance floor. Lights dimmed; bodies swooned. Ezra felt a grip in the dark. Someone pulled her through the crowd to cheers and jeers. Then a pair of lush lips crushed hers—ones she'd recognise anytime. Rai.

She pushed him away. "What are you doing?"

He smiled, hushing her. "They are drunk, and they already know we fuck. Go with it." He leaned in again, capturing her mouth like never, and despite the situation, Ezra felt warmth bloom down below. His hands roamed over her body to the music, and she allowed him to lead her away.

Before she knew it, the music faded and so did the darkness. They were in a quiet corridor, just beyond the canteen. "Quick. Tehreem said you needed to talk. We have an hour max before they realise we're both missing." Just like that, Krish's demeanour changed from a horny soldier celebrating success to the professional, and he rushed her through the corridor towards his room.

Part of her wished they had more than an hour to do more than just talk. Her gut was telling her these were precious, stolen moments. And not for long.

(Chapter 15 continues...)