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McBrid knocked on Scottsmoor’s office door. He needed to find out everything he could about the poisoning, specifically what wasn’t in the notes.
“May I help you?” A young, male Almighty opened the door.
“Who are you?” McBrid had never seen this kid around the laboratory.
The young Almighty’s vibrant blue eyes widened a bit at his brusqueness and then one side of his mouth turned upward in a smile. “Gruder. Jonathon Gruder.” He opened the door wider and offered his hand.
McBrid shook the younger scientist’s hand as he stepped into the room. “I heard Conguise hired two new scientists.”
“Yep, me and Bing.”
“I’m looking for Scottsmoor.” He studied the younger Almighty. There was something off about him.
“Haven’t seen him since this morning.” Gruder sat down at the desk.
“I thought he was mentoring you.”
“I thought so too.” Gruder’s eyes were sharp, but his tongue too loose to survive long on Level Five.
“You should watch your comments.” He wasn’t sure why he said it. This kid was his competition but the guy didn’t move right. McBrid inhaled in short sniffs, trying not to be obvious. There was a hint of something unusual in Gruder’s scent.
“I usually do, but I have a feeling I can trust you.” Gruder’s eyes locked with his.
Those eyes—they were too blue, too vibrant. The other scientist was slender, which wasn’t uncommon for a young Almighty, but his every movement was fluid and graceful. McBrid’s nose twitched and Gruder smirked. The kid knew. He recognized that McBrid wasn’t pure Almighty because Gruder was mixed too.
“I don’t recommend trusting anyone in this place.” He nodded and left.
This guy was dangerous. Gruder wouldn’t say anything about his suspicions about McBrid’s parentage. It’d cause too many questions and possibly DNA tests. However, if the other scientist didn’t perform well or made too many mistakes, Conguise would get rid of the kid. If that happened, Gruder would spill all his secrets—known or perceived—to save his hide. He needed to find Scottsmoor. Now, he had to learn about the Brush-Men and about his new assistant.
When Scottsmoor wasn’t at the Rattus Norvegicus laboratory, McBrid slipped into the wing where Scottsmoor’s new project was being hosted.
It was quiet on this side of the building. Only the soft hum of a few machines and the echo of his footsteps broke the cold silence. The project was so secret that no one else was assigned to this section of the lab.
He stopped at the door and knocked. No one answered. He glanced around. The hallway was empty. No one knew anything about this project and secrets were never good, unless they were his. He turned the handle. It was locked, of course. Scottsmoor wasn’t a novice. He leaned his ear against the door. Something moved inside that room—soft sounds, barely a whisper, like sheets blowing in the breeze. He closed his eyes, listening, but he had no idea what was making the noise. That wasn’t unusual on Level Five. Whatever was in there was something no one had ever seen.
Footsteps tapped on tile. He straightened. Someone was coming and by the shoes it wasn’t a male. He turned and strode in the other direction, taking the Servant’s hallway into the main section of the lab and tamping down his curiosity. The other project wasn’t his concern, not at the moment anyway.
He wandered into the breakroom. A few scientists were scattered about, perusing notes as they ate or drank coffee. Scottsmoor wasn’t one of them.
He left, passing Parson’s office, and stopped. This was who he needed to see. Scottsmoor probably wouldn’t tell him anything, but Parson would. He knocked once and strode into Parson’s office.
“Yes.” Parson looked up from his computer, not happy to see him.
He closed the door. “I need information.”
“About what?” Parson’s hand began to twitch slightly. Poor guy wouldn’t live long working here.
“Two things.” He lowered his voice. “What do you know about the new project Scottsmoor is working on?”
“Nothing.”
He raised his brow.
“I swear.” Parson closed his computer and lowered his voice. “I tried to get in the lab but they’re using a different kind of lock.”
He shouldn’t say anything but he felt bad for the guy. “You need to stop sneaking around. You’re going to get caught by someone not as understanding as I am.”
“I’ll take my chances. Not producing is even more dangerous.”
“True.”
“What else do you want? I have work to do.”
Steal was more like it. “What do you know about the eradication of the Brush-Men eggs?”
“You have Scottsmoor’s notes.” Parson’s thin lips tensed.
“I’m pretty sure I don’t have all of them.”
“He killed the eggs with pesticide.”
“Did any survive?”
“You tell me?” Parson’s eyes brightened.
“Not that I’m aware of but there was a partial notation left in one of his documents that makes me think some of them did survive.” He had to make sure that Parson didn’t suspect anything. “It’d be exactly like Scottsmoor to keep that little secret to himself so I’ll look like a fool. Conguise won’t be impressed if I can’t even kill the little buggers.”
“Yeah.” Parson’s eyes dimmed a bit. “That does sound like something he’d do.” His eyes darted to the door and he leaned forward. “I did see something in his files before you were assigned the project. I’m sure you’d find it very interesting. We could trade. I could use help getting these things to obey.”
There was no way he was giving up that secret. “I’m sure Crackderr will find it interesting that you’re stealing his hard work as well as secrets from all the other scientists.” He smirked. “Which monster would you like to feed? I suppose, I could be generous enough to let you pick who you want me to tell first.”
“I’ll tell Conguise about the cage. Your escapee. He’s not going to be happy about tiny Brush-Men scurrying around his lab.”
“Problem with something transient like that is it can disappear so quickly. No cage. No escapee. Only your word—the word of a thief—against mine.”
“You can’t prove I did anything.”
“I have videos and not just of you in my office.” He sat down on a chair across from the other Almighty.
“You don’t have access to the footage in the other offices.” Parson sent him a smug look.
“No, but I do have access to the hallway recordings. Do you actually believe the others won’t be curious as to why you’re outside their laboratories, picking the locks and disappearing inside for hours?”
Parson’s pale face turned greenish-gray.
“You should go back and tape over all that footage. Anyone could stumble across it.” Protecting his ass was second nature to him but apparently, not to everyone.
“I...I...”
“So, what did you discover about the poisoning?”
“You won’t tell anyone?”
“Not if you cooperate. I do suggest you wipe the tapes. I did the ones that I copied, but I’m sure you’ve continued your nocturnal jaunts since then.”
“I will.” Parson stared down at his hands. “Will you show me how to erase them?”
McBrid’s jaw tightened. This kid shouldn’t be here anymore than Charlie. “Yes, but first tell me what you know.”
“Some survived. Many died as they crawled from the soil and the ones that didn’t, the Guards stomped.”
“Why would they do that? Those creatures should’ve been studied.”
“I know.” Parson’s lips twitched. “I heard that Conguise wasn’t happy when Scottsmoor let that slip.”
“No, he wouldn’t be.” The professor would’ve been livid and Scottsmoor was a fool for telling him.
“I also heard two somehow escaped.”
“Really?” He had to force himself not to lean forward.
Parson nodded.
“Does Scottsmoor still have them or did he put them in with the others?”
“No and no. One did flee into the cage with the others. They tore him up and ate him.”
“They do have cannibalistic tendencies. I assume this one was smaller than the others since it was a hatchling?” If it was anything like the one Charlie had found, it was considerably smaller.
“Yes, and according to Scottsmoor’s notes, the two were also a different color—darker and their skin was brittle.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” It sounded exactly like the one he had.
“Apparently, the poison altered their chemical composition.”
“He studied them?” There was no way Scottsmoor knew they could understand Almightys and Guards. The other scientist would’ve painted the hallways with flyers, proclaiming his brilliance.
“Yes. He caught the second one and studied it.”
“Does he still have it?”
“Some of the remains, I think.”
“Remains?” He clamped his mouth shut. The idiot had killed it to study it. “I need you to get everything you can on that creature.”
“Why?” Parson may be naïve but he wasn’t a fool.
“Because I need to recreate the process. I need to poison them in the exact same way.”
“Why would you want to do that? According to Scottsmoor, they were small, weak and brittle.”
“Because Conguise expects me to succeed where Scottsmoor failed. I need to remedy the poison so it works properly. I can’t do that unless I know how they survived.”
“The professor wants them dead. If you let them survive on purpose—”
“Not all of them. A sample. A small sample of eggs.” He needed to figure out what had altered the Brush-Man’s DNA, enabling him to understand them. But first, he needed to verify that the others could not.
“Okay, but I want the tapes of me going into the labs.”
“Deal.” He had more than one copy.
Parson’s smug smile would’ve made him laugh if it weren’t so sad. The younger Almighty wouldn’t make it a year around here.