0800 Hours [slash]

0800 Hours: Security Tape #246-88A

Beith Laboratory Archives

Security Tape #246-88A

The audio and visual components of this tape have been separated for security reasons. See tape #246-88V for the corresponding visual feed.

A metallic clunk indicates a door swinging open and hitting the wall. There's an uncoordinated shuffle of two distinct sets of footsteps entering the room; one suddenly breaks into a run.

"Cye!"

"Hey Cam - whoa!"

Two bodies collide with a resounding thud. This is promptly followed by the sweet sounds of an insistent kiss.

"...Oi idiot, we're not exactly alone here."

"Do I look like I give a flying fuck?! Are you okay? What happened to your arm? What did they do to you?"

"Cam, I'm fine. I just got some bloodwork done."

"Yeah, forgive me if I don't believe you, because I've been chained to a chair for the last four days."

"What?"

"Yeah, I know! God, my wrists are so irritated. How does that biohazard tag not drive you fucking mental?"

An intruding cough cuts into their conversation.

"Oh, right. Cam, this is Doctor... uh..."

Another cough as someone steels themselves to speak.

"Hello, Cameron. I'm Dr Helen Yersinia. I'm sorry that we had you handcuffed. We weren't sure if you were genuine refugees, or... Well."

"Or what? What else would we be? This is supposed to be a Sanctuary, isn't it? You're supposed to help people."

"You probably want to sit down for this. Both of you, I mean. You can take a break, Andrea. I don't think you'll need to shoot anyone any time soon."

This prompts a distressed squeal of chairs being dragged across the floor. The door squeaks closed as the rhythmic pounding of heavy boots recedes.

"Alright. Let me start at the beginning... I suppose you're aware that Phlebivariadae is an unusually strong pathogen. It spread far too quickly for a vaccine to be developed. Unnaturally, almost."

The room is plunged into a reverent silence. Everything is still.

"That's because it's not natural. Phlebivariadae - the Infection, that is - was developed here, in Beith. As directed by the Ministry of Defence."

Her voice cracks at the end, dusty porcelain finally falling from the cabinet and smashing into tiny pieces across the floor.

"Developed? You mean..."

"Yes. We made the Infection. I was an immunologist at this facility."

"But why? What reason could you possibly have had to make something like this?"

"I... I wasn't told the official reason, but I presume it was meant to be kept as a last resort. A secret weapon, should we ever need one."

"Biological warfare is a fucking war crime. We weren't even at war."

The words are terse, clipped syllables. A straining barrier against righteous fury.

"I know, Cye... I know. But I never thought we'd use it. I thought that the government would keep it frozen, keep it safe. A final negotiation tactic, nothing more."

"Then you're a fucking idiot."

"Yes. But it wouldn't have mattered if we'd said no. If our lab hadn't taken on the job, someone else would have. The M.O.D offered a very lucrative contract. But I supposed that doesn't matter now."