Nano

CHAPTER 6

The man had been in this strange place only a few hours when he was hauled out of a deep sleep, given athletic gear to put on, and led to the room he was standing in now. A countryman of his, but not one who had accompanied the four of them on the plane ride, was reassuring him that everything was fine; they just needed him to run a couple of tests on a stationary bicycle. The man in the suit seemed friendly enough but didn’t offer any explanations of where they were. His accent suggested he was from a different province from his own.

The cyclist looked around the brightly lit room, at the bike, and at the shelves lined with banks of equipment with flashing lights. Where he was exactly, he had no idea. All he knew is that it was somewhere in the United States. Four Westerners in medical scrubs, hoods, and face masks stood around checking the equipment. They looked like the man who had given the four of them an injection soon after they arrived. One of the masked figures said something, and it was time to get on the bike.

“We have the bike set to the same parameters as this morning’s ride,” a Westerner said.

“That’s right. This is the control. We need to see if this morning’s incident was an anomaly or whether there is a systemic issue,” said another. He was the leader, so he indicated to the Chinese official that it was time to start. Through a translator, the official explained to the cyclist that he would feel the bike speed up and slow down and he had to keep up with it, that was all. They were monitoring the effects of the exercise on his body.

“Tell him he has nothing to worry about,” the leader said, and one of the other masked figures in the room shot him a look.

“Let’s hope not,” the leader said under his breath.

The cyclist started pedaling. He had noticed that the bike’s rear wheel was encased in equipment, and now he knew why. The machine was speeding up and he exerted himself to keep up with it. He had cycled before, but this seemed easier than he remembered. If this was to be the extent of the work they were going to have to do, he could cope with it easily. He wasn’t out of breath in the slightest.

“Okay, where are we on the run?” the leader asked after a few minutes.

“Coming up to the crisis point.” The translator had been asked to leave the room before the test began. The cyclist’s vital signs looked good. Perhaps this morning was just an accident, after all.

What the cyclist was feeling was something close to exhilaration. He willed the machine to test him harder — this was too easy! He looked at the faces of the people watching him and was glad to see they looked pleased. He would surely have a good chance of freedom if he gave these people what they wanted.

As the resistance increased, the cyclist pushed even harder — he felt free, almost, until in an instant he felt as if a hand were clamped around his throat. He yelled out and pawed at the oxygen mask he was wearing.

The medics and technicians all started yelling at once. The vital signs were way off — it looked as if the man’s heart had failed. The leader observed the chaos playing out in front of him but made no effort to intervene. It was the same event. He was already thinking what he was going to tell his boss. The event that morning had not been an anomaly. It was a real problem that would have to be addressed.