"What's his status now?"
"Uncertain," Stone said. "He is unconscious, and he was vomiting blood earlier today. We've started intravenous dextrose to keep him fed and hydrated until we can get down to the bottom."
Stone flicked a button and the screen showed the baby. It was howling, strapped down to a tiny bed. An intravenous bottle was running into a vein in the scalp.
"This little fellow also survived last night," Stone said. "So we brought him along. We couldn't really leave him, since a Directive 7-12 was being called. The town is now destroyed by a nuclear blast. Besides, he and Jackson are living clues which may help us unravel this mess."
Then, for the benefit of Hall and Leavitt, the two men disclosed what they had seen and learned at Piedmont. They reviewed the findings of rapid death, the bizarre suicides, the clotted arteries and the lack of bleeding.
Hall listened in astonishment. Leavitt sat shaking his head.
When they were through, Stone said, "Questions?"
"None that won't keep," Leavitt said.
"Then let's get started," Stone said.
***
They began at a door, which said in plain white letters: TO LEVEL II It was an innocuous, straightforward, almost mundane sign. Hall had expected something more-- perhaps a stern guard with a machine gun, or a sentry to check passes. But there was nothing, and he noticed that no one had badges, or clearance cards of any kind.
He mentioned this to Stone. "Yes," Stone said. "We decided against badges early on. They are easily contaminated and difficult to sterilize; usually they are plastic and high-heat sterilization melts them."
The four men passed through the door, which clanged shut heavily and sealed with a hissing sound. It was airtight. Hall faced a tiled room, empty except for a hamper marked I 'clothing." He unzipped his jumpsuit and dropped it into the hamper; there was a brief flash of light as it was incinerated.
Then, looking back, he saw that on the door through which he had come was a sign: "Return to Level I is NOT Possible Through this Access."
He shrugged. The other men were already moving through the second door, marked simply EXIT. He followed them and stepped into clouds of steam. The odor was peculiar, a faint woodsy smell that he guessed was scented disinfectant. He sat down on a bench and relaxed, allowing the steam to envelop him. It was easy enough to understand the purpose of the steam room: the heat opened the pores, and the steam would be inhaled into the lungs.
The four men waited, saying little, until their bodies were coated with a sheen of moisture, and then walked into the next room.
Leavitt said to Hall, "What do you think of this?"
"It's like a goddam Roman bath," Hall said.
The next room contained a shallow tub ("Immerse Feet ONLY") and a shower. ("Do not swallow shower solution. Avoid undue exposure to eyes and mucous membranes.") It was all very intimidating. He tried to guess what the solutions were by smell, but failed; the shower was slippery, though, which meant it was alkaline. He asked Leavitt about this, and Leavitt said the solution was alpha chlorophin at pH 7.7. Leavitt said that whenever possible, acidic and alkaline solutions were alternated.
"When you think about it," Leavitt said, "we've faced up to quite a planning problem here. How to disinfect the human body-- one of the dirtiest things in the known universe-- without killing the person at the same time. Interesting.
He wandered off. Dripping wet from the shower, Hall looked around for a towel but found none. He entered the next room and blowers turned on from the ceiling in a rush of hot air. From the sides of the room, UV lights clicked on, bathing the room in an intense purple light. He stood there until a buzzer sounded, and the dryers turned off. His skin tingled slightly as he entered the last room, which contained clothing. They were not jumpsuits, but rather like surgical uniforms-- light-yellow, a loose-fitting top with a V-neck and short sleeves; elastic banded pants; low rubber-soled shoes, quite comfortable, like ballet slippers.
The cloth was soft, some kind of synthetic. He dressed and stepped with the others through a door marked EXIT TO LEVEL II. He entered the elevator and waited as it descended.
Chapter 10
Hall emerged to find himself in a corridor. The was here were painted yellow, not red as they had been on Level I. The people wore yellow uniforms. A nurse by the elevator said, "The time is 2:47 p.m., gentlemen. You may continue your descent in one hour."
They went to a small room marked INTERIM CONFINEMENT. It contained a half-dozen couches with plastic disposable covers over them.
Stone said, "Better relax. Sleep if you can. We'll need all the rest we can get before Level V. " He walked over to Hall. "How did you find the decontamination procedure?"
"Interesting," Hall said. "You could sell it to the Swedes and make a fortune. But somehow I expected something more rigorous."
"Just wait," Stone said. "It gets tougher as you go. Physicals on Levels III and IV. Afterward there will be a brief conference."
Then Stone lay down on one of the couches and fell instantly asleep. It was a trick he had learned years before, when he had been conducting experiments around the clock. He learned to squeeze in an hour here, two hours there. He found it useful.
***
The second decontamination procedure was similar to the first. Hall's yellow clothing, though he had worn it just an hour, was incinerated.
"Isn't that rather wasteful?" he asked Burton.
Burton shrugged. "It's paper."
"Paper? That cloth?"
Burton shook his head. "Not cloth. Paper. New process."