Free Tunnels 06 - Terminal by Roderick Gordon Page B

boy.
    Although the isolation rooms were small, the sleeping cots were comfortable enough, and the tinned food was a welcome change from Will and Elliott’s usual fare in the jungle. Jürgen was the first candidate for Werner’s vaccine, suffering nothing more than a slight headache after he was injected and his body began to produce antigens against the disease.
    After twenty-four hours, Werner carried out tests on his brother’s blood to establish whether he’d acquired immunity against the virus. Even though the tests proved he had, Jürgen didn’t venture outside the quarantine ward, but instead kept Will and Elliott company, talking about his research on the bushmen and the ruins his team had found on expeditions into the jungle.
    Werner then vaccinated himself, Karl and the bushman. The growing sense of excitement was almost palpable amongst the New Germanians, but then, halfway through the second day, there was an incident. Will was roused from his sleep by a crash and then voices in the corridor outside. Putting on his mask, he hurried from his room to find Elliott already there, with both of the New Germanian brothers. They were by the door to the bushman’s room, peering in through the observation port.
    ‘What is it?’ Will asked.
    ‘We don’t know yet,’ Werner mumbled. ‘We need to go in.’
    Jürgen nodded in agreement.
    Werner forced the door open, then quickly entered with his brother. That was when Will had the first glimpse.
    The bushman had passed out against the door, blocking it. Whatever was wrong with him, it must have come on when he’d risen from his cot; he’d obviously knocked over a small table when he’d fallen, which accounted for the crash. He was breathing quickly and his skin was dripping with sweat.
    And it was skin – every last scrap of the outer layer of bark-like hide had peeled off, and hunks of it were scattered over the cot and the floor around him.
    There was no mistaking that he was human now – he was a wiry but fully grown man. But, at odds with this, his skin was very pink, like a newborn child’s. And all over his body there were spots of blood, similar to abrasions, where shedding of the whorls of tough outer hide had caused haemorrhaging.
    Jürgen and Werner each took one of the bushman’s arms and carried him back to his cot.
    Will saw then that he had absolutely no hair. Or eyebrows, for that matter.
    ‘But has this happened before?’ Will asked. ‘All the outer layers dropping off?’
    ‘No, not with any of the other tribesmen we had with us in the Institute,’ Jürgen replied, as his brother took hold of the bushman’s wrist.
    ‘His pulse seems strong enough, but the rate is very elevated,’ Werner said, as he timed it using his watch.
    Jürgen looked concerned. ‘It must be a reaction to the vaccine.’
    ‘I can’t see why. I ran some in vitro tests on his blood beforehand, and there was nothing to sugg—’
    ‘Wait – look!’ Will said, as the bushman stirred, his eyes opening groggily. ‘He’s coming round!’
    The bushman tried to lift himself up, but Jürgen spoke soothingly to him, urging him to stay where he was. Although he probably didn’t understand what he was being told, the bushman relaxed and laid his head back on the pillow. His eyes were flickering open and then closing as if it was a struggle for him to remain conscious.
    Jürgen held a glass to his lips, helping him to drink some water. ‘He’s very hot,’ he said.
    ‘Maybe he’s contracted a mild fever, or he’s just become dehydrated,’ Werner suggested, as the bushman had some more to drink.
    Jürgen nodded. ‘That would explain why he fainted. And why he seems to be improving now.’
    The bushman was indeed showing signs that he was recovering rapidly; he refused any more water and pushed the glass away as he attempted to speak.
    There were words in the guttural language that Will had heard before, but in between these the buzzing sound was now far more