[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.He’s a networking expert.”I gaze at him stupidly, then at the clipboard he is handing me.It takes me a moment to grasp that he is trying to save me embarrassment.He has completely misread the situation.I grab onto the opportunity like a drowning man reaching for a life vest.The clipboard almost slips from my grasp, but I recover with a nervous laugh.Right now, I realize with crystal clarity that I’m actually lousy at this.“Could you show Dr.Gideon the orientation tape, Sarah?” asks Kieffer.I have a sudden urge to kiss the man.The receptionist is still eyeing me, but with some resignation, like a cat swishing its tail at the foot of a tree full of inaccessible baby birds.I feel moved to make a lame reply to her earlier question.“I’ve been ill,” I say, looking apologetic.She simply nods, and all through the orientation, I feel her eyes boring into the back of my head.I watch inane tapes about Geiger counters and dust-proof white lab clothing.I watch people walking calmly for flashing exit signs during emergencies, and then checking in with their supervisors outside for a lackadaisical head count.No one is running, screaming on the wires, burned by radiation and blasted apart by bullets.All through the videos I feel Sarah Rasmussen’s eyes.#Report: Sarah Rasmussen, Internal Security, TA 96:Of all the people present that day, I feel the most responsible for letting Dr.Giddeon get through.I was the only one, to my knowledge, that suspected him in the slightest.What threw me off was his comment about being ill.So many of the great minds here seem to be encased in oddly misshapen bodies.I took Bob Kieffer’s flustered reaction to indicate that this was the case with Gideon, and that I was causing undue embarrassment.His face did indeed closely match the photos, as did his thumbprints.Still, it was my mistake not to listen to my instincts.#Gideon’s Transcript:The close call with the receptionist has left me shaken.I can hardly hold the red placard saying: UNCLEARED VISITOR IN AREA.Three badges now weigh down my shirt-front.One is a temporary security clearance badge, the second an ID badge, while the third, redundantly, identifies me as a security risk.“How about a cup of coffee before we go down to the lab?”I startle, almost dropping my red placard, but recover.Will I be able to go through with this? What if I am never alone? Can I reach inside my shirt and pull the tiny aluminum tab and kill Bob Kieffer?Bob escorts me to the cafeteria.He, or one of the others on my short escort list, must be with me at all times.If I take a piss, they are supposed to look over my shoulder to see if I’m holding it right.We put the large ugly placard on the wall outside, where it sticks with a magnetic click.As I enter the room, the PA system announces that an Uncleared Visitor is in the cafeteria.Few of the people in the room bother to look up, but I feel like a microbe on a slide anyway.I sip my coffee and begin to realize that this whole thing is crazy, that in a matter of minutes something will go wrong.What was Sarah Rasmussen doing right now? Calling the right number at the right time?My cancer feels bad today; it is a presence in my body.I know that if I did lead Bob Kieffer to the bathroom, there would be blood in my bowels.I can feel it.It seems like ages have gone by.I don’t have much time left before the correct version of Dr.Gideon shows up.Finally, we get up and head down to the labs.I walk toward the first vault doors and another battery of Geiger counters in a dream-like state.#Report: Dr.Robert Kieffer, TA 96.The first clue I picked up that something was wrong with Dr.Gideon came when we reached the first vault doors.I began to wonder if the man was drunk or something.When I spoke to him, he often didn’t hear me on the first attempt.He seemed distracted and a bit anxious.We had waved all the drug-screening, since he was only supposed to work on site for four days.I began to think this could have been a mistake.#Gideon’s Transcript:First, I dress in white overalls, booties and a hairnet.Then they run detectors over every inch of me.I nearly have a heart attack when the detectors sing over my breast pocket.They remove two diskettes and keep searching.I pray that my belly is as inert as everyone told me it was because now they’re patting it down.Gelatinous explosive, warm from my body heat, is jiggling and pressing against my ribs.We’re through.We walk down a long hall that seems to telescope out before us.The doors have painted arcs on the floor in front of them to show where the swing could reach.Round bubble-like mirrors like those in hospitals perch over the intersections so you can see people coming at you.I can smell a strange chemical odor now, like that of the doctor’s office back as the compound.My heart is pounding freely now, my head is floating.We reach the second vault.Outside we drop off our keys and leave our security badges with yet another guard.He gives me yet another badge, a dosimeter badge that will change color if I get too many rads [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]