Prototype

Present Day

“Welcome to Hylayl Airlines,” the captain said as the plane began to move. “We will be flying non-stop to Washington DC. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

Joshua Prentel, a passenger, sat back in his seat. He was seated with his carry-on in the seat next to him. He patted the bag tenderly while his hand sanitizer bottle began to leak in his bag.

* * *

An alarm blared.

The volume increased each time the alarm sounded. The alarm’s sound rang loudly through Reggie’s mind and permeated into her dreams. She opened her eyes and stared into the computer screen that read “Emergency.”

She reached to her bedside table, grabbing a headset with a single lens on it. She tapped a small button and spoke, “Activate Shelby.”

“Activating,” the lens read as the Artificial Intelligence program began to run.

“Shelby,” Reggie said when the screen on her glasses was fully activated and running properly, “Requested an update on my situation. Update me immediately.”

“Reggie,” the computer’s feminine voice began to speak. Shelby was a super computer capable of immediate results for any research and able to download any floor plan ever used in the entire world. She was the perfect assistant to anyone’s mission or task. Even though she was artificial intelligence, she was Reggie’s only friend.

“The situation at hand is an evaluation of some sort of toxic leak. Execute biohazard countermeasure procedures.”

“Noted,” Reggie said, standing up and sliding her black pants, tank top, and knee-high boots on. “Were any personnel involved with the leak?”

“The staff was full at the time,” Shelby relayed, downloading the time cards.

“Are there any survivors?” Reggie asked.

“Searching…” Shelby fell silent for a few short moments. She responded finally with, “Negative results in finding any heat signatures; there are no survivors.”

Reggie pulled her shoulder length brown hair into a ponytail that lay against her nape. She opened the bedside drawer, quickly entered the safe code and removed her firearm. She checked for the hollow point rounds in the magazine and loaded a round into the chamber.

Ready. She told herself.

Adrenaline levels at fifteen percent. Shelby monitored Reggie’s condition through a microchip implanted into Reggie’s shoulder blade. Her location and stats could be accessed from anywhere on the planet from the NexGen satellite.

She hurried out of her quarters and down the hallway toward the helicopter, as per standard procedure.

She boarded the helicopter and took her seat. She glanced at the helicopter’s control system, seeing she was alone as usual. The helicopter received the signal of a destination and auto pilot would be activated as soon as Reggie took a seat.

“I see the destination for the helicopter is the sight of a downed airplane,” Reggie said to her headset. “You already said there are no survivors; am I to find the cause for the crash?”

“The cause of the crash has already been determined.” Shelby began, “You are to find what killed the passengers. I will give you the complete mission update as soon as you have locked your mask on.”

Shelby added, “As per orders.”

Reggie followed her orders placing her mask over her nose. Within a few seconds of locking it into place, a gas was intentionally given to her. Her entire body felt like it was made of Jell-o and she was in a deep sleep.

While she slept, Shelby relayed the information about her mission to her.

A plane from Hylayl Airlines crashed north of their location due to some sort of poison. Everyone was infected and died almost instantly during the crash. The source of the outbreak is still unknown, and could possibly be infectious to the local populations. The accident was isolated enough that the sense of urgency was not extreme; but given current fears of biological weaponry, identifying whatever caused this is important.

Someone on board the plane smuggled a virus or bacteria of some type and planned to reach Washington DC and unleash it. Reggie was to figure out who was responsible and what the infection caused. If there were any survivors, she needed to give them proper attire to prevent further infection and rush them to safety. The priority was first and foremost to discover the identity of the individual responsible.

The helicopter’s onboard AI carefully monitored Reggie’s vitals and the flow of the sedative. Once the helicopter began its final descent to the location, the sedative decreased slowly, allowing Reggie to regain consciousness for her mission.

Reggie’s eyes jerked open once the helicopter landed and her system was freed from the chemical’s influence. She sat up quickly, looking out the window of the vehicle she was in over the wreckage of an airplane.

“You know what to do,” Shelby said.

“Affirmative,” Reggie confirmed.

Leaving her mask on, she zipped a long-sleeved shirt over her tank top and grabbed climbing gear out of the cargo of the helicopter. Once equipped, she headed out of her helicopter and toward the fallen plane.

As usual, she was alone; she was required to never need back-up. She reached the door of the plane and tried to open it. The door was sealed shut, and locked apparently. She glanced up; noticing only one window was broken.

“Is the pathogen airborne?” Reggie asked.

“Apparently through direct inhalation,” Shelby said. “It would immediately dissipate into the air the second it reached an open space. I do not have any identity of it though.”

“That would indicate it being either a currently undiscovered agent, or manufactured,” Reggie said simply. That would make her job a little more difficult. Just a little.

“Unfortunately, that seems to be the case. I would recommend leaving your mask on for precautionary purposes,” Shelby confirmed.

“Planned on it,” Reggie said. “I’ve done this before.”

“I know you have. I still am programmed to be concerned,” Shelby said.

Reggie chuckled at Shelby; they spent too much time together already. Again she glanced up at the broken window. Broken was too strong a word, it was mostly just cracked. While she enjoyed climbing, she was grateful she wouldn’t have to kick in a window. The windows on planes were notoriously thick and reinforced; she’d more likely break a bone than chip any pieces of glass away. But the crack was big enough for her to use to climb to the top of the plane.

Reggie used a grappling hook from her belt and threw it up to the window and waited while the hook opened and braced. It made a loud clunk as it bit into the plane’s metal and the cable was tightened from the tension.

“Shelby,” Reggie said.

“Yes?”

“Don’t tell me how many feet off the ground this is,” Reggie said simply.

“I will remain silent until you have entered the plane,” Shelby responded.

Reggie began to climb up the side of the plane toward the window. The window was incredibly small, as was standard for all plane windows, but it was high enough for her to climb her way to the top. She was going to climb in through the windshield of the plane. She ran along the top of the plane until she reached the cockpit. She fired a single round into the windshield, kicked out remaining shards of glass, and landed inside the plane.

“Shelby, scan the air for the toxin. Is the air in here safe now?”

“Scanning,” Shelby said and went silent for a short moment. “The air is confirmed safe.”

Reggied entered carefully. She passed the dead pilot and co-pilot and unlocked the door to the rest of the plane.

“Any more information on what we could be dealing with here?” Reggie asked.

“Negative, but this is the first case of it and the surrounding ecosystem is not favorable for any agent’s reproduction,” Shelby said.

“That is, indeed, good news,” Reggie agreed. She readied her firearm, opened the door to the plane and moved in slowly. The flashlight on the bottom of the firearm illuminated the way into the plane’s deadened hall.

Most of the passengers were killed by the impact with the ground, but a few of the bodies showed evidence of coughed up blood until they died rather than from the crash.

Seat by seat, Reggie skimmed over to see what could resemble the source of the infection. From each of the victims, she gathered transference was very similar to Tuberculosis; it required one to breathe in an infected individual’s breath.

For it to go unnoticed on the plane and reach the plane’s pilot, it would have to be in something which could easily be mistaken for a safe product; that was supportive of the air borne transmission theory, but where was the point of origin?

On a seat next to a body with severely broken legs and blood pooling on his chest from his mouth was a small bottle of hand sanitizer. Reggie pulled a glove from her pocket and carefully picked up the container and glanced into it. It looked normal to the naked eye, but she asked Shelby to scan it on a microscopic level regardless.

“It contains our infectious agent,” Shelby said after a moment.

Reggie focused the firearm’s light on the passenger’s carry-on. A liquid was on it. “It appears the bottle wasn’t sealed properly, and when he touched it, it was absorbed through the skin.”

“That is a very reasonable assessment,” Shelby confirmed.

“Contagion acquired,” Reggie voiced into her log.

“We have an incoming transmission…”

There was a brief moment of static and electronic interference on Reggie’s transmission device, and the screen flashed with Granat’s face rather than Shelby’s bright and cheery holographic face.

“Status report?” Granat asked.

“I found the contamination method and the possible individual responsible,” Reggie said simply.

“Very good,” Granat said, and then he spoke to someone else. “Program terminated.”

The room’s holographic environment ceased and the room returned to four basic walls plainly painted to properly project the holographic images. Granat stepped into the room from behind a door and the “dead bodies” stood up and left the room while Granat prepared to speak with Reggie. A lab technician came in quickly and handed Reggie a towel.

Granat braced his hands on Reggie’s shoulders, “You’re getting more spectacular with each mission.”

“That was hardly a challenge for me,” Reggie commented while toweling the sweat from her face.

“Some missions are easier than others, Reggie, you know that.”

“Of course,” Reggie confirmed, “If we have no more missions for a while, I would find it useful to spend time training at the firing range.”

“So dedicated,” Granat said, touching her shoulder tenderly. “Do not push yourself.”

“You can’t get better if you don’t push, sir,” Reggie said. She was uncomfortable with his touch, but she didn’t falter from it.

“Consider formal training for the day complete then,” Granat said. “I look forward to today’s scores.”