Both riders dismounted their hoverbikes and walked towards the door. They were dressed in black biker jackets, zipped all the way to their necks, and wore gray, stretchable cargo pants with deep pockets.
When prompted by the AI, they took off their brown leather gloves and pressed their palms on the scanning screen. After their fingerprints were verified, the AI spoke again.
// Identification successful!
Scrapper 191 verified.
Scrapper 192 verified.
Welcome to Lazarus!
Enjoy your brief stay! //
The blast door opened almost immediately, revealing a wide corridor illuminated with bright yellow lights. The pair tapped a couple of times on their Zen watches, activating the auto drive feature for their hoverbikes. Since both bikes were synchronized to their users, they followed behind at a gentle pace.
Once their vehicles had entered, the blast door slowly slid shut behind them, and the air purifiers turned on. A second later, a red laser grid popped open in front, blocking their path. Their hoverbikes automatically parked themselves on top of the raised platforms on either side and were locked in place, electromagnetically.
The fingerprint scanner at the door was enough to keep out most unsuspecting outsiders, but this laser grid provided an additional layer of defense, just in case some clever douchebag managed to trick the scanner.
As the bikers approached the laser grid, they held up their left arms, pulling back their jacket sleeves. A stream of blue light scanned the silicone chips embedded in their wrists. Once the unique identifying code was confirmed, the laser grid shut down momentarily, allowing them to pass through.
The pair walked across to the other end and stopped before a sliding aluminum door. It opened automatically and they stepped inside a small, dark chamber with a single concealed camera mounted on its ceiling.
// Final Lazarus checkpoint.
Preparing X-ray chamber...
Please wait patiently. //
After a couple of minutes, the X-ray chamber was all prepped up for a scan. The radiography took just a few seconds and was immediately followed by a vitals check. This final checkpoint had been recently installed and served a dual purpose: detecting cyborgs and androids and assessing the physical health conditions of the returnees.
// Scrapper 191: Status.
No cybernetic implants detected.
All vitals stable.
No visible injuries.
Scrapper 192: Status.
No cybernetic implants detected.
All vitals stable.
Minor cut on the left knuckle.
Scrappers are clear to proceed! //
The final door in front opened with a loud swishing noise and the pair walked out of the scanning chamber. On the other side, a bald, middle-aged man with a red tarantula tattooed on his head gave them a seemingly cold greeting.
"You're late. You should've returned an hour ago." Without waiting for them to offer any explanation, he turned away, asking them to follow him.
The pair followed in the man's footsteps, walking down a narrow flight of stairs, faintly illuminated by old, white, mini CFL lights hanging from the ceiling. This steel staircase led to the heart of Lazarus, which housed the survivors.
Lazarus was a state-of-the-art underground fallout shelter built to withstand the impact of the most powerful atomic bombs. Its triple-layered concreted walls had a thickness of 1.5 meters and were filled with lead sheets in the middle to protect the occupants from radiation.
This shelter had been built over 50 years ago, in anticipation of the nuclear attacks during the Soviet crisis. At that time the world was headed for another all-out war, but the Ebola pandemic had crippled every major superpower. The fallout shelter had fallen into disuse long ago since people were too busy dealing with the biological threat.
After the pandemic ended, the surviving nations barely had any reason to wage nuclear warfare, despite possessing entire arsenals of advanced nuclear missiles. A decade of relative peace allowed the nations to make rapid scientific breakthroughs that led to the advancement of technology through leaps and bounds.
Due to the peaceful living conditions, the shelter had fallen into complete disuse. However, when the machines attacked, many military personnel and their families flocked to Lazarus. Since it was located in the desert outside the city, it wasn't a prime target for the robots.
Still, those who ventured outside had to be extra careful about not being followed back. To minimize the risk of exposure, only a select few were allowed to step outside, and that too for a few hours at night.
The Scrappers were those crazy few who had the responsibility of scouring the surface at night and collecting essential resources. Though the fallout shelter had its own food production facilities and water supply, medicines and ammunition were in short supply here. These two commodities were always in high demand, but tonight the Scrappers had been searching for something far more precious.
Climbing down the stairs, they entered a spacious room neatly decorated with foldable stainless steel tables and rickety chairs. This was the shelter's community hall where the people gathered twice a day to have their meals and discuss the current state of affairs.
Currently, the hall was empty, as the last meals had already been served a couple of hours ago. Only a frail, old man in a white night dress was sitting in a levichair that was floating a few inches above the floor.
The levichairs were custom-made chairs for the old and the physically infirm who had difficulty walking. Unlike the old wheelchairs, these had no difficulty climbing the stairs and could be operated with the help of the joystick attached to the armrest.
The old man glided across the room and greeted the two Scrappers with a slight smile. Glancing the time on his watch, he asked, "What took you so long?"
The bikers finally took off their jet-black helmets, and immediately their brightly colored locks spilled out. The one on the right had dyed her straightened hair magenta pink, while the other had wavy blue hair.
Soon after, they removed their goggles and facemasks, revealing their youthful faces. They were identical twins, with no noticeable differences except their hair color. Both the sisters had hazel eyes and russet brown complexions which contrasted with their silver-white nails.
They took their time to catch their breaths and breathe in the sweetly scented air inside the room. Then finally, the blue-haired one spoke.
"You wouldn't believe what happened! A freaking Phoenix spotted us while we were flying over the industrial district. The bastard almost blew me out of the sky. It took a lot of effort to get it off our tails."
The old man furrowed his brow and turned to the other girl. "Is this true, Mira? Or is Cairo spinning another tall tale just to get off the hook?"
The pink-haired girl lowered her gaze and replied, "She's not lying. That chopper chased us for 70 miles."
"And you're sure that you weren't followed back here?"
Cairo sighed despondently. "Of course, it didn't follow us back here. We're not amateurs, gramps!"
"You need to check your tone, young lady," the old man rebuked sternly. "Everyone here addresses me by my last name."
"Jeez! You're really annoying," Cairo said, rolling her eyes. "Fine, Professor Jenkins, I'll keep that in mind."
The man in the wheelchair nodded and turned to Mira. "Do you have the item?"
"I do," Mira replied, unzipping her jacket and pulling out a glass cylinder filled with a viscous blue gel which turned a couple of shades darker when exposed to light. She handed it to the old man and stepped back.
Professor Jenkins' expression changed at once. A faint smile appeared on his lips, and his eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "You've done well. I will overlook your sister's rude behavior this time." With those words, he left the dining hall and headed toward his own room.
"Ugh, this oldie's really starting to get on my nerves now!" Cairo shrugged.
The bald man standing beside them chuckled lightly. "I think you two are made for each other. Not a single day passes without you stepping on his tail."
Cairo raised an eyebrow and scoffed, "He thinks he's some kind of genius, but in reality, he's just a delusional old prick!"
"You really need to watch your mouth, sis," Mira retorted. "He has done a lot for us."
Cairo looked at Mira with an expression of disbelief, before turning to the bald guy. "You hear what she's saying, Kurt?"
"Keep me out of this, girls. I don't want to get kicked out of this shelter," Kurt replied. "I'm not like you two. I won't be able to survive on the surface."
"We don't enjoy our trips to the surface as much as you think we do," Mira responded. "It's really messed up out there. I'm pretty sure we're the only survivors."
"Correction!" Cairo jumped up, raising her hand. "There are definitely other survivors. Don't you remember that guy we just saved?"
"What guy?" Kurt asked.
"An idiot who somehow managed to get too close to a Reaver," Cairo answered.
"I'm sure he's gonna end up dead pretty soon. There are plenty of killer robots on the surface," Mira said. "He should've stayed inside whatever hole he crawled out of."
Kurt remained silent, but this interesting detail had piqued his curiosity. The last humans living on the surface in Sorus District had been exterminated long ago. This new survivor was either from another fallout shelter around here or he had come from a different district.
Though Mira wasn't too concerned about the fate of a complete stranger, Cairo secretly hoped he had made it out alive. Despite coming off as a bratty young girl, she did care about others more than she showed.
After Kurt left, the sisters headed to their shared room.
Once inside, Cairo climbed on top of the double-bunk bed and stretched herself out. Mira was about to turn off the lights, when Cairo fired a quick question.
"What do you think was inside that glass cylinder?"
"Some kind of experimental growth serum," Mira replied.
"Yeah, but what does it do? I mean why would the professor be so interested in something like that?"
"I don't know and quite frankly I don't care," Mira answered with a yawn and switched off the lights. "Good night, sis."
Mira fell asleep shortly, but Cairo's thoughts kept her awake. Growth serums were mostly used for speeding up physical development in children and enlarging certain body parts in adults. However, these serums only worked until a certain age. The professor was over sixty five. There was no way a growth serum would have any effect on his body.
"What if it isn't a growth serum?" Cairo asked. "What if it's a mutagen? Mira?"
Her questions went unanswered as Mira had already fallen asleep. Unlike her sister, Cairo was quite inquisitive. She could never blindly follow orders, and this was precisely the reason why the professor disliked her so much.
As the seconds ticked by, Cairo shifted uneasily in her bed. There were too many disturbing thoughts crowding her head.
'Who was that boy on the surface? Were there other survivors out there? And most importantly, did that sealed glass cylinder really contain a growth serum? Or was it some kind of mutagen from Psionis?'