I admit, you can heave a sigh of relief at the possibility of keeping on living yet awhile by sniffing with prudence at the atmosphere.
I now understood why the rodent spent his time rubbing his nose with such disgusted intensity. My nostrils tried to wrinkle shut in nauseated repugnance as the vile aroma hit them.
I started moving around the tables. In thirty seconds, in a passage at the end of the room, I found what I expected, but didn't want to find. The midnight visitor did not forget to switch out the lights. He left in a hurry. The thought of light switches would never ever cross his mind. His one ambition in life would be to move out of the room and close both doors as quick as possible.
Fitzgerald should call off his search for Inga Luzhny, lying dead in front of me. Still clad in her white knee-length overall. Like Morris, she died with a single bullet to the head, but unlike her companion; in a pool of wastewater which leaked up from the drains, and the source of the dreadful stench.
I identified her by her name badge on the coverall.
She would experience suffering, starting with vision problems, memory loss, nausea, vomiting, facial flushing, and headache. After this, changes in breathing and heartbeat, balance difficulties, numbness, ending up unconscious.
I didn't touch her. I stooped over the dead woman and examined her with diligence. A small, contused area behind the right ear, but no suitable swelling. Her demise supervened before a true bruise formed.
A few feet behind her, laying on the floor at the base of the wall farthest of a dark blue curved glass and red plastic lid -- the fractured remnants of some receptacle or other.
A label, still intact, on a shard of FMDV BFS 1860 O1. The most virulent variety of foot-and-mouth, and this assiduous version of the bacteria, used as a tool.
Away in this wall, an inset rubber-sealed transparent door: behind this lay what the scientists and technicians called the menagerie -- one of four in the complex. I pushed the door and went inside.
I found myself in a huge windowless room, with hundreds of cages of all types -- some sealed-glass construction with their own air-conditioning and filtration units, but most of the standard open-mesh design took all the spaces and three room-length benches up.
Pairs of eyes, small, red, and beady, turned to stare at me as I entered. Between fifteen hundred and two thousand animals in the room -- ninety percent of them mice, I guessed, but also rabbits and guinea pigs.
From what I witnessed, they all seemed in fair enough health. None of them affected by what transpired next door. I made my way back to the control room, closing the communicating door.
Almost ten minutes passed, and nothing happened to me. The chances, now remote. Anything would have happened by now.
I cornered the hamster, returned him to his cage, and left to open the steel door.
I wondered if the Sergeant got hold of a weapon from the facility's security team, ready to use, if I emerged still wearing the hazmat suit. I climbed out of the protective clothing and stepped out.
Fitzgerald gripped a 9 mm firearm at eye level, at the full stretch of his shaking right arm, pointing towards the widening crack of the doorway and me. I wouldn't say he appeared overjoyed at the prospect of shooting me, but ready enough.
"All right, Sergeant!"
I blurted.
"The air stays clear within."
He lowered the gun and smiled. Not a thrilled grin, but still a smile. Perhaps the thought came too late in the day he should volunteer to go inside instead of me.
"Sure?"
"Still alive, aren't I?"
I said, irritated.
"Better gather the others."
I went back and waited for them.
Wheatley strode first through the door.
"Stinks in here?"
"British field type 1860, serotype O, subtype 1."
Sheena Ryder supplied the answer, and in the shadowless neon lighting, her face grey with trepidation.
"How can you tell?"
I demanded.
"How can-"
She stared down at the floor and up to meet my eyes.
"A mishap a fortnight ago. A maintenance employee."
"An accident."
I said, before nodding.
"You recognize the scent."
"What the fuck -"
Wheatley began.
"Another body"
I explained.
"At the end of the room."
No one spoke. They glanced at each other before following me into the room.
Fitzgerald gazed down at the dead woman.
"Luzhny?"
His voice held no expression at all.
"Sure? Under her key-fob, she checked out of here about half-past six last night."
"Impossible, this is her all right. Someone coshed her, shot her in the head, and stood at the door, before slinging a container of concentrated foot-and-mouth virus against this wall, shutting the door behind them."
"The bastard!"
Mark Wheatley mumbled.
"Mind your language in front of Sheena."
He apologized to the doctor.
I moved across to Sheena Ryder, who sat down on a high stool. Her elbows on a bench; her face sunk in her fingers. The straining fingertips made splotches against her soft cheeks, and her hands shook. I touched her on the shoulder.
"Sorry, Sheena. I need help."
"Yes, of course."
She glanced at me, her eyes smudged with tears in them.
"She remained more than a colleague. How can I assist?"
"Can you check the extent of the damage to the clearance pipes from this plant?"
"Yes."
She stared down at Luzhny in fascinated horror, obvious with her thoughts.
She crossed to a drainage layout display, which accompanied the route from the effluent refinery to the holding tanks. The entire system lit up when the wastage transferred, but from where I stood, part of the structure showed no life at all.
"Sheena?"
"The data suggests the strain's got out into the countryside."
She whispered.
"Meaning?"
I asked
"I intend to further explore the meteorological reports and consider the likelihood of an airborne dispersal. A waterborne dissipation into the North Sea is also a significant risk. I plan to investigate whether surface water from the site reached and contaminated nearby farmland, because of the distance, landscape, and direction of flow."
"Anything else?"
"Release by the human movement persists as a genuine option."
She said, her voice full of fear.
"An investigation remains crucial."