The Well of Lethe: 2

Miss part one? You can find it here.

The elevator smelled strongly of antiseptic, the chemical tang doing its best to sand away the lingering odours of burnt hair and stale sweat. The view out the descending car’s windows was of a murky stew. Lamps cast their fingers into the acidic brine, but there wasn’t anything out there to see.

Korvus glanced at one of the guards, who might have been the origin story behind the sweat smell. She was jittery, which could be because she was high, sick, or had just shot a Corrector. He let his optics cycle into thermographic and picked up her body temperature at a slightly-too-warm 39°C.

HERALD:||You’re concerned she’s high, aren’t you?

I thought mind-reading was still in alpha.||:KORVUS

HERALD:||Hah! It’s the things we don’t tell you that’ll get you.

Korvus pushed his smile down and let his eyes drift to the other guard, who eyeballed him right back. The man was built, a functional piece of machinery that made it more surprising that a scrawny inmate had put him on the ground. Let’s come back to that.

Korvus allowed himself a sigh as he let his gaze complete its circuit to rest on the warden. The man looked exactly like he should: grey. Grey stubble, grey uniform, grey eyes, and no doubt a grey sense of humour. Korvus raised an eyebrow. “Warden Mercer.”

“Corrector Korvus?”

“Why were there prisoners on the reception platform?”

Mercer grimaced. “I thought you’d have known. Gideon requested—”

“Gideon Aris?” Mercer left his eyebrow at half mast. “He’s known to me.”

“Ah,” Mercer offered. “And that’s because..?”

The question drifted between them as the elevator continued its descent into the acidic hell of Lethe’s ocean. Korvus turned back to the sweaty guard and offered her his hand. “Private, if you please.”

She jittered some more, her eyeballs swivelling as if seeking escape, but the car had just the one door, outside of which was death. She shook.

HERALD:||Veritas Chain confirmed, Private Allison Reeves. And her palms are sweaty.

Korvus allowed the Chainlink in his hand to pass his credentials back the other way, then released her and turned to the one who was going to be a problem. Let’s knock that on the head. He noted the Sergeant’s bars. “Sergeant, you next.”

The lunkhead looked at Korvus’s offered hand and, after a longer pause than regulation allowed, took it.

HERALD:||Veritas Chain confirmed, Sergeant Percival Eckles.

This guy’s a Percy? That explains so much.||:KORVUS

HERALD:||I don’t make this stuff up. It’s right there in the Chain.

The Chainlink fed his own credentials to Eckles. Great. Now I can have this guy talking in my head, too. Still, it’s what this whole trip was for. Fact-finding. Certification. And, of course, Correction. They couldn’t very well Correct things if Korvus was relying on unsigned communications.

Korvus glanced to Mercer, who already had his hand out. They shook, the Herald System confirming his signing key identified him as the warden. That done, Korvus looked back at Eckles. Let’s get this part out of the way. “Sergeant, how often would you say you’ve been overpowered by someone half your size?”

Eckles stiffened. “He got the jump on me—”

“Warden Mercer, why did Dr. Aris have that collection of reprobates up there?” Korvus glanced at Reeves. “Instead of looking after the health and wellbeing of your crew?”

Mercer followed his gaze to the private. “Reeves is—”

“I’m fine,” Reeves said. “It’s just a cold.”

“A cold,” Korvus echoed.

“There’s been an outbreak,” Mercer said. “Dr. Aris was going to send samples back on your ship. It’s rare a Class 2 secure transport ship makes it out here, so he felt—”

“My ship isn’t a transport.” Korvus felt something itch at the back of his mind. This is where it starts. The mystery. The reason he was here. “It’s barely big enough for me.”

Mercer blinked. “He had the papers—”

“Veritas Chainlinked?”

“I, uh.”

The elevator was slowing, which was good because Mercer was out of useful conversational fuel and Korvus needed to check in on Aris. He turned to Reeves. “Private, would you show yourself to the medbay?”

“It’s fine, really, I—”

“Because I’m coming with you. Dr. Aris and I need to discuss a few things.”

Mercer cleared his throat. “We have quarters prepared for you. We can—”

“I got all the sleep I needed on the ship.” Korvus gave Mercer his full attention. “But I’ll be sure to liaise with you directly after my meeting with Aris.” He let his hand rest on the hilt of his sabre. Korvus hadn’t used it on the platform. More of a close-quarters weapon, the Arc Sabre.

To his credit, Mercer didn’t swallow. He gave a nod, but crisp rather than weary. Interesting. He’s not hiding anything. He might be even more clueless than me.

Reeves led, in her jittery way, taking him from the elevator’s airlock and through a security screening area. The partial intelligences in the autocannons marked him as a friendly, which was good: his skin could take small arms ballistic fire, but those turrets looked built for a war. He’d seen their like used, back before he wore his current uniform. Korvus had served under different colours but did the Logos’s work anyway.

It’s why I’m still alive.

The interior of the Well was aggressively sterile. Korvus expected darkness and rats, but it gleamed, everything in its place. The air, recycled a million times, tasted flat and metallic, carrying the faint, ever-present hum of the life support systems. Every surface was polished to a dull sheen, reflecting the cold, blue-white light of the overhead strips. There was no dust, no clutter, no sign of human mess. It was the sterile perfection of a tomb. There were plenty of guards, and all of them were human.

Wasn’t the Well supposed to have automaton support?||:KORVUS

HERALD:||Hell man, I just work here.

Korvus sighed, his shoulders rising and falling with it. The Herald would feel that.

HERALD:||By which I mean, sure, yeah. You’re so touchy today!

I didn’t realise ‘partial intelligence’ meant ‘part asshole’, too.||:KORVUS

HERALD:||You’re just lucky I’ve got my profanity filter on.

Reeves shored up at another bulkhead, which irised open for her after a moment. She led them down a maze of corridors. His onboard map updated, noting they were in a largely administrative area. Mercer’s office was up here somewhere. There were more windows looking out into the death ocean outside, those lights still helpfully showing that nothing whatsoever was out there.

It’s probably for the best. If I saw something out there, it would be a whole different kind of trouble. He tried for some small talk. “You get on with Aris?”

“Guy’s an asshole,” Reeves said. “Huge chip on his shoulder.”

“Great,” Korvus said. “That why you didn’t go see him?”

“I didn’t go see him on account of the outbreak,” she tossed over her shoulder. “His medbay is full of death.”

“That sounds extreme.”

“You’ll see,” Reeves promised. “You’ll all see.”

HERALD:||She’s definitely high.

She’s terrified. Not of me, and not of Aris. Of this place. I… remember what that’s like.||:KORVUS

“Is there something you want to tell me, Private?” Korvus kept his voice calm and even. “Is there something about the outbreak that’s important?”

She slowed at a junction, checked around the corner, then turned to face him. “Corrector, I don’t know the protocols. I’m new. New at this job, and new here, too. Never met someone from the Veritas Bureau before. Hoped I never would, too, if I’m being honest.” Her eyeballs did that swivel thing again. “But I’d rather go on vacation with you than swap words with Aris.”

“I see.” Korvus pressed his lips into a line. “Well, you’re in luck. I’ll do the words part if you can handle getting us there. Deal?”

Her eyes swivelled again, then she gave a jerky, single nod and led off again.

The medbay was down a few levels, closer to the jails. Korvus hadn’t seen an inmate yet, but he started hearing them before they arrived. There was screaming, starting almost too low to hear but all coming from the same place.

Are you recording this?||:KORVUS

HERALD:||You know how much I like carols.

As they approached the medbay entrance, Korvus noted how the big bulkhead doors could be sealed—for example, if there was a biological outbreak needing containment. Those doors were wide and currently open.

It let the screams come right out.

He kept his stride up despite Reeves dropping back into his wake. Korvus rounded the door and took it all in.

Beds stretched in rows toward another set of sealed doors at the far end of a long room. Various pieces of medical equipment dotted the room. Cabinets hugged the walls, full of vials, bandages, beakers, drug packs, and other medical-grade accoutrements. There were two unaccompanied crash carts, but that was the least of the problems.

No, the problems were the twenty-two inmates strapped to the beds. There were a few empty cots, which promised room for expansion in this carnival of the macabre. Each inmate was plumbed into the medical smart system at the head of their bed. Korvus noted tubes both pale and red going into each prisoner’s body.

The only person in the room not strapped down was a man who, on any other day, Korvus would have called hale. The situation had applied its thumbscrews, leaving Gideon Aris hunched under the load. He looked to be in his early forties, sporting a shock of blonde hair over piercing blue eyes. Those eyes were sunken through exhaustion, the man’s gaze haunted.

He didn’t wait for Korvus to speak. He strode forward, an automaton finding new life, and extended a hand, his smile wide and practiced. He raised his voice as he said, “Corrector! Gideon Aris, Surgeon General of this facility. Forgive the… noise. We’re in the middle of our latest round of psychotropic fever. It’s endemic to the pressure, you see. You must be Korvus.”

This is a bullshit power play, obviously. Aris was the home team, trying to take charge of the handshake and all the Veritas trust that implied. He wants to frame the situation before I can even ask a question. Korvus met his grip, a little wolf making its way to his answering smile.

HERALD:||Veritas Chain confirmed, Dr. Gideon Aris. Heart rate is 110. Pupils are dilated. He’s either terrified or lying.

Why does it have to be just one? He might be a full-value service kind of doctor.||:KORVUS

“The outbreak was not material to my briefing,” Korvus said, allowing his voice to turn curious, the way a fox might if talking to a chicken. He released Aris’s hand and gestured to the screaming inmates. “This seems excessive for a… fever.”

“A typical, understandable, and incorrect assessment,” Aris said, a little oil on the water of his tone. He was already turning away to a cabinet. “Extreme paranoia is the primary symptom. They become a danger to themselves and others. We’ve been experimenting with a new paralytic cocktail to manage the episodes. Of my own invention, of course.” He held up an unlabelled vial of milky fluid. “Early results are promising, but the dosage is… confounding.”

HERALD:||What were you saying about partial assholes?

If I’d raptured a Corrector, I’d want to shore up on pre-emptive explanations.||:KORVUS

HERALD:||Is that from the Asshole Playbook? I hear you wrote a chapter or two.

It’s on the first page.||:KORVUS

Let’s see how high that fortress of plausible lies goes. Korvus showed more tooth. “I’ve brought you a new patient. Private Reeves may be symptomatic.”

“Hmmm?” Aris’s eyes flicked toward the door, but it wasn’t a predator’s glance. No, if Korvus’s life depended on it—and it might!—he would have said Aris was giving a flat stare, as if Reeves was a regular known to just want the good drugs. Aris snatched an injector from a tray. “Let’s see if she responds to a little… medication.” He hustled past Korvus.

Korvus heard the hypo hiss, followed by Reeves’s sharp intake of breath from the corridor. Aris returned, tossing the injector onto a tray. “Prophylactic treatment. A sedative and a broad-spectrum antiviral. Better safe than sorry. Now,” he clapped his hands together, his energy bright like an arc lamp, “you and I need to talk. My office? The noise here is simply impossible.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, striding out past Reeves. The Corrector followed, taking in the private as he passed. The woman was rubbing her wrist absently, but it seemed the jitters had calmed some. I guess everyone loves a good sedative. The main medbay doors hummed shut behind Korvus, trapping him in the corridor with the doctor. Just as they closed, the screaming inside abruptly stopped. 

HERALD:||That’s not terrifying at all.

You’re just sour you’re missing out on carols.||:KORVUS

But the Herald System was right. The absolute silence was uncanny. Unnatural. Korvus had never heard of a fever that worked quite this way before.

Hell, I’m only here for an unsanctioned intelligence, right?

Aris’s office was spacious, as far as deep-sea facilities went. It still had the sterile lighting, but Aris had papered over it with translucent yellow film, giving the hint of a daylight vibe to his home away from home. A fish tank—empty—burbled along one wall, the opposite the vast window looking out into the murk.

There was a desk, a door that led into Aris’s sleeping quarters, an L-shaped couch with a low-slung table, and importantly, a liquor cabinet. Aris poured a finger of amber into two tumblers, handing one to Korvus.

He took it, breathing in the aroma.

HERALD:||Olfactory toxin check negative. If it’s poison, I can’t tell, and at least it’s well-aged.

Not a bad way to die, as far as death went. Korvus sipped, tasting peat and coal. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Aris said. “I requested a Class 2 transport, and—”

“I’m not a courier,” Korvus said. “I don’t do deliveries.”

Aris sat on one leg of the couch, and after removing his belt, complete with sabre and sidearm, Korvus took the other. The couch creaked under the weight of his armour, and the Herald System’s cannon prevented him from relaxing back. Which was fine, because he had no plans to relax around someone who’d killed a Corrector before. The doctor watched Korvus over the rim of his glass. “No, you’re more like the Logos’s backspace key.”

“If you like,” Korvus said. “What do you think I’m here to erase?”

“It’s not Mercer. The man’s too good at his job,” Aris said. “I’m not up with the complete prisoner manifest, but even so… I’d hazard you’re here for one of them.”

“Interesting.” Now it’s my turn for the bullshit power play.

“That I got it right?”

“That you don’t think I’m here for you,” Korvus said. “I could be.”

“That incident was years ago, and—”

“Relax,” Korvus said. “I’m a Corrector, not a psychopath. I wouldn’t drink your whiskey then stab you in the back.” He leaned forward. “If it’s not you, and it’s not Mercer, who is it?”

Aris looked down for a moment. “There is one person here I haven’t inspected. One person who won’t ever need a doctor. But it’s harmless. Locked away. It hasn’t hurt anyone or said anything.” He looked back up. “Unsanctioned intelligence?”

“You tell me.”

“As I said, I haven’t assessed it. It’s not… human.”

“Tell me about the fever,” Korvus suggested.

“It started a couple of weeks ago. An isolated case, as they always are.” Aris looked out over Korvus’s shoulder at the murky hell of Lethe’s ocean. “An inmate stabbed another.” A pause, a slight smile. “‘Stabbed’. That’s what I put in my report. Difficult to achieve here. We separate them, you see. Well, by the time the guards caught on, there was nothing left but giblets.”

“A man carved another up for spare parts?”

“Woman,” Aris corrected. “Maybellene Krinitsky. About fifty kilograms with her boots on. She’d really gone to town and wouldn’t tell us where the rest of him was or how she got into his cell.”

“That’s some fever.”

“She was running a little in the red.” Aris looked into his glass. “But then it happened on the other side of the colony. The deaths started mounting, so I ran some tests. The only commonality in the pathology was a fever. Bloodwork was fine. Veritas checked out. I sent some data up the line along with a request for a transport. We don’t have the facilities here to—”

“I’m sympathetic,” Korvus lied, “but I’m not a courier. Could the pathogen have come here with the unsanctioned intelligence?”

“I thought so at first. A new arrival, a sudden outbreak. It fits. But the timeline is off. The unsanctioned has been in isolation since it arrived. The R-naught is too high for it to have spread from a single, contained source,” Aris said. “The fever has an R-naught of fifty to a hundred and spreads very quickly. If my calculations are correct, if it brought it here, the disease would be far more widespread.”

“I’m sorry,” Korvus said. “Did you say an R-naught of fifty?”

“To a hundred, yes,” Aris said. “It appears to be very contagious.”

“So when you said that this was just a round of psychotropic fever—”

“That was for Reeves’s benefit,” Aris said. 

“How long has the outbreak been going on?”

“A week.”

Korvus chewed that over. “Is there an antiviral?”

“Not that I’ve found.” Aris looked away. “Mercer’s fine. I haven’t got it, either. So it’s not a hundred percent contagious, but…”

“I’ll stay out of genpop, I promise.” Korvus stood, the couch creaking with his movement. “Thank you for the drink.”

“Where are you going next?” Aris stood.

“To genpop, obviously.” Korvus smiled, then collected his belt, sabre, and sidearm. “It’s why they pay me the big dollars, after all. One last question, Doctor. How did you get them to stop screaming?”

Aris looked him over, a conductor wondering how much information to give the oboist. “A master override in the smart system. Doses them with a powerful sedative all at once. A necessary tool when you’re… understaffed.”

Remind me to never get strapped to one of his tables.||:KORVUS