Dreams in the Tower Part 2 Read Online Free PDF Page A

found herself wondering how many of the protesters had been victims of that injustice too—or if they even realized Silte Corporation had been the leading voice in helping pass the legislation. The ancient car went by some old lofts and then came to what appeared to be an abandoned garage, probably one of many that had shut down after stubbornly refusing to adapt during the e-car boom. As they pulled in, one of the heavy doors opened and then shut again once they were fully inside, submerging them in total darkness.
    “We’re in,” the man said, and almost immediately dim lights came on outside the car. He got out, so Dellia did likewise. The garage was cramped, musty with the smell of old oil. On the other side there was a decaying car that was obviously from the combustion engine era. The man beckoned and led her over to a grimy desk in the corner, sandwiched between rows of tall, rusty toolboxes and a precarious stack of tires. On the wall behind it, an iron staircase led up to a lone second-story room with whited-out windows all around it. Izza sat behind the desk, so Dellia sat in the chair opposite and looked at him head-on for the first time. The top of his face was covered in a ridiculous lacy purple mask complete with sequins and rhinestones; a black bandana covered his lower face, but he removed that to reveal a thick tangle of brown beard beneath. The skin beneath was dark.
    “We can talk freely now,” he said. “I’m Izza, by the way, formerly of the Anti-Corp.”
    “Formerly?” Had she been tricked?
    “It would take too long to explain,” he said. “Just know that you’re lucky you found me and not someone in the AC or People Against Corporatocracy or one of the extremist factions. Me and the people I work with are doing what the AC was supposed to do, before it all went to shit. You can trust us.”
    She wasn’t sure she could—not completely. But after the news about the virus advancing i nto the second stage much sooner than it was supposed to, she was willing to go against her better judgment and try to get something done. It wasn’t like she had any other options at this point. “Okay, let’s get to it,” she said.
    He produced a surprisingly high-end tablet from his pocket and then unzipped his hoodie and flapped each side a few times, blasting Dellia with a whiff of his spoiled cheese body odor. “Fucking hot,” he said. He rolled his sleeves up before continuing. “First,” he said, placing the tablet on the desk with a recording app running, “tell me everything I need to know about the mind virus. Keep it simple. I’m not a scientist or nothing like that.”
    “It’s not simple,” she said, crossing her arms, “but I’ll try. First of all, I wasn’t part of the team that created it. So I’m not an expert, just so you know. I was part of the designer virus r esearch group though, and our work from that was primarily used for the project.
    “They called it a neuropathic synthetic Rhabdovirus—that’s the same as Rabies. But we took to calling it Silvan’s virus, since it was a Silte Corp project. You can’t think of it like the flu or HIV or something: the RNA was built from scratch and this thing is smarter than anything natural. They released an active strain on the Anti-Corp demonstrators, probably infected hundreds. Basically, what it does after infection is make its way to the claustrum—that’s a consciousness center in the brain. It takes over key structures within the claustrum, creating the lethargic, apathetic state in its hosts. The crazy thing about it is it’s extremely efficient; it does what it wants to do before the host’s immune system really knows what’s going on.”
    “How fast?” Izza asked. He seemed to be genuinely interested in what she was saying, even if he wasn’t following.
    “The initial strain—the one Silte used as a weapon—was already activated and took about two days to begin affecting the brain. During this time, the