Species Read Free

curiosity that Kyle found far too morbid. This whole thing bothered him more than it should have—the decoded message and instructions, the girl in the reinforced glass enclosure below, the decision to terminate the project.
    Especially that.
    “Go down and help them set it up.”
    Horrified, Kyle gaped at Fitch. “Me?” As if she’d heard, the eyes of the girl below suddenly blinked open and looked up, seeking the observation booth and him automatically. Their gazes locked for a fraction of a second, then Kyle yanked his away. “But she trusts me!” he protested. “I can’t—”
    “You can and you will,” interrupted Fitch. “This project is over and those are your instructions.”
    Kyle opened his mouth, then shut it again. Punishment? Probably; his work here went a lot further back than two years, and if he blew it now by refusing direct instructions, his future would fade to nothing but a gray void. Fitch might think his work was decent—barely—but the wrong response could turn Kyle into just another member of the Fitch Lab Assistant Alumni. He gave a curt nod and headed down to the first level; what he did here today might haunt him for a while, but he wouldn’t spend the rest of his life working for Fitch and time would eventually dull the memory.
    Sometimes the other workers down here reminded him of androids, robots in sheaths of human flesh doing Fitch’s bidding without question or emotion, mobile computers hardly capable of making an independent decision without additional input. In fact, the only thing that seemed alive down here right now was the girl, whom Fitch had code-named Sil for some unknown reason. Fitch insisted that it was nothing more than a randomly assigned computer code, but for all Kyle knew about the older man, the letters could have represented anything from Fitch’s mother’s initials to an obscure acronym known only to the doctor. In the lab area around Sil’s enclosure, the other workers moved with the practiced efficiency of those who had terminated projects before and knew exactly what was expected of them. The main monitors were being shut down by a dark-haired tech whose brilliant white lab coat made his sallow skin look unhealthy under the harsh fluorescent lighting; one by one, the machines inside the glass enclosure went dark as their power sources were disconnected. Kyle could see Sil sitting docilely on her cot, following the shutdown of the monitors with little turns of her head as the powerdown made a circle around her confined area. No one that Kyle could see would look Sil in the eye, and from his spot coming out of the elevator he saw her staring fixedly up at the control booth. When he followed her line of sight, he realized she and Fitch were in a staring match, a visual battle for dominance.
    “Hey, Jacobson!” Kyle turned and saw one of the labor supervisors directing his men as they connected the feed lines from four slender tanks to closed valves at the bottom right corner of Sil’s glass cage. The heavyset man said something into a radio clipped to his left shoulder, then listened and nodded. “Dr. Fitch says he sent you down here to man the valves. We’re just about ready.”
    Kyle nodded grimly but said nothing. It figured; he’d dared to show a little compassion, so Fitch would make him do the ultimate dirty work. By the time he reached the enclosure, Sil was standing again and watching the activities outside her window with narrow-eyed interest. The tanks were in place and the supervisor was doing a final check; clearly visible on the sides of all four tanks were the stenciled words HYDROGEN CYANIDE. Kyle reminded himself that it didn’t matter, Sil couldn’t read, but when she saw him she tapped urgently on the window and tried to get his attention. He forced himself to meet her gaze calmly, but couldn’t hold the connection. Was it fear he saw reflected in those clear blue eyes?
    Now the lab area was nearly empty. The supervisor and his