Mount Dragon by Douglas Preston Read Free Book Online Page B

end of the corridor, Singer stopped at a gray metal door, its edges curved to fit the doorframe and sealed with thick black rubber.
    To the right was a small mechanical box. Bending over, Singer spoke his name into the device. A green light came on above the door, and a tone sounded.
    â€œVoice recognition,” said Singer, opening the door. “It’s not as good as hand-geometry readers or retinal scanners, but those don’t work through biosuits. And this one, at least, can’t be fooled by a tape recorder. You’ll be coded this afternoon, as part of your entrance interview.”
    They moved into a large room, sparsely decorated with modern furniture. Along one wall was a series of metal lockers. On the far side stood another steel door, polished to a high gloss, marked with a bright yellow-and-red symbol. EXTREME BIOHAZARD , read a legend above the frame.
    â€œThis is the ready room,” Singer said. “The bluesuits are in those lockers.”
    He moved toward one of the lockers, then paused. Suddenly he turned toward Carson. “Tell you what. Why don’t I get someone who really knows the place to show you around?”
    He pressed a button on the locker. There was a hiss as the metal door slid up, revealing a bulky blue rubber suit, carefully packed into a molded container that resembled a small coffin.
    â€œYou’ve never entered a BSL-4 facility, right?” Singer asked. “Then listen closely. Level-5 is a lot like Level-4, only more so. Most people wear scrub under the full-body suits for comfort, but it’s not a requirement. If you wear your street clothes, all pens, pencils, watches, knives must come out of the pockets. Anything that could puncture the suit.” Carson quickly turned his pockets inside out.
    â€œNo long fingernails?” Singer asked.
    Carson looked at his hands. “Nope.”
    â€œThat’s good. I’m always worrying mine down to the quick, so I don’t have a problem.” He laughed. “You’ll find a pair of rubber gloves in that lower left compartment. No rings, right? Good. You’ll have to take off your boots and put on those slippers. And no long toenails. You’ll find toenail clippers in one of the locker compartments, if you need them.”
    Carson removed his boots.
    â€œNow step into the suit, right leg first, then left leg, and draw it up. But not all the way. Leave the visor open for now so we can talk more easily.”
    Carson fumbled with the bulky suit, drawing it over his clothes with difficulty.
    â€œThis thing weighs a ton,” he said.
    â€œIt’s fully pressurized. See that metal valve at your waist? You’ll be on oxygen the entire time you’re inside. You’ll be shown how to move from station to station. But the suit itself contains ten minutes’ worth of air, in case of emergencies.” He walked toward an intercom unit, pressed a series of buttons. “Rosalind?” he asked.
    There was a short pause. “What?” came the buzzing response.
    â€œCould I trouble you to give our new scientist, Guy Carson, a tour of BSL-5?”
    There was a longer silence.
    â€œI’m in the middle of something,” the voice came back.
    â€œIt’ll just take a few minutes.”
    â€œAw, for Chrissakes.” The voice cut off immediately.
    Singer turned to Carson. “That’s Rosalind Brandon-Smith. She’s a little eccentric, I guess you could say.” He leaned toward Carson’s open visor conspiratorially. “Actually, she’s extremely rude, but don’t pay any attention. She was instrumental in developing our artificial blood. Now she’s wrapping up her part of the new project. She did a lot of work with Frank Burt, and they were pretty close, so she may not be too friendly to his replacement. You’ll be meeting her inside, no reason for her to go through decontam twice.”
    â€œWho’s Frank Burt?” Carson