Orpheus Read Online Free Page B

last transmission.” She didn't expect to get a response; she was fairly certain that she'd heard nothing more significant than random static. But she had to try.
    “Caller, repeat last.”
    Nothing.
    She hung the mic back on its hook and rolled back to her desk. She closed the book for the time being on what she called “Project: Snake” in her head. There were two hidden files on her computer: that one and “Project: Lost Soul.” She opened this file and started poring over everything she had learned about the lone open file: Ethan Holt.
    Where could he be?
    Twenty minutes went by before another radio transmission came through. This one was crystal clear, and expected. “Lena, it's Sam.”
    Lena keyed her mic, mindful that this frequency was monitored by Trager's goon squad. For some reason, they didn't think that anyone else knew about it, but they only had Lena fooled for about ten seconds. “Go, Sam.”
    “We're initiating retrieval of the walkies, and then we'll begin the sweep of the theater and surrounding buildings before we work our way back up to the roof for extraction. Hope to have a Jekyll in tow. If everything goes well, we'll be silent for a few hours, at least.”
    “And if it doesn't go well?”
    “Then we'll be silent a lot longer.”
    “That's funny. How's the rookie look?”
    “Too early to tell, but he seems to have some balls. That's something.”
    “Okay. Take care of them.”
    She heard Fish yell off-mic but clear, "His balls?" Lena shook her head and chuckled.
    “Shut it, Fish. Will do. Oh, and don't tell those Scythe boys this, but I find them all very sexually arousing. Out.”
    Lena held back her laughter long enough to croak, “Out.” She giggled for a few moments more and then got to work. She went to the large plastic-covered map of the island, found the area that the Scalpel team was going to search, and wrote “2140” in grease pencil over the theater. Tracking their progress was her favorite part of being the dispatcher/resident techie for the team. She liked to imagine that she was right there with them, doing some dirty work.
    In reality, all she really did was answer the radio, chart their movements, and then send in those death-dealers to “sanitize” the areas. She knew why Orpheus and his team didn't let up at all during their searches. They knew that, as soon as they were extracted, everything living and unliving alike would be wiped off the face of the planet, and Orpheus' past failures and desire to not let any innocents die drove him to the edge time and again. His team was the same way: they all had demons. But, unlike a lot of people, they used those demons to push themselves farther.
    They saved lives. And they could very well be instrumental in the survival of the human species.
    She could at least help them, and him, in any way she possibly could.
     
    * * *
     
    Trager swiped his ID card and entered the outer viewing ring of the laboratory. He was still amazed at the design of this building, even though he'd all but personally swung every visible and back-alley deal to make it happen; it was put together with such forethought that it was easy to forget the world that existed just outside the doors to the street.
    It had been fairly easy to convert most of the rooms into living quarters. There was no shortage of beds, even with the patients that had been there when the crisis had kicked off. Many of them had died as, unfortunately, they just didn't have enough people to keep up the excellent standard of care he prided himself on. They had running water, heat, and electricity courtesy of the solar panels and wind turbines mounted in strategic places on the exterior of the building. They had a massive store of food thanks to the efforts of the retrieval crews, and they'd even put together an impressive garden on the observation decks.
    They had, in short order, converted this marvel of a building into a thriving mini-city.
    Trager intended to continue making