Partial view

After taking a few deep breaths, all the while listening out for footsteps in the corridor, I felt a little calmer. Whether I made a run for it (would the entrance open without a card key anyway?) or carried on, staying here wasn't an option.

For one thing, the cold air was really starting to get to me - I could feel my teeth wanting to chatter.

Holding my breath, I opened the door a crack and peered out into the corridor. No-one there.

Remembering how I'd got here, I closed the door again and checked my suit for signs of damage. Luckily, other than some dust, it was fine - so, after quickly patting it down, I stepped out into the corridor.

Muttering "confidence, confidence" to myself, I tried to look as if I had a perfect right to be there - but felt infinitely better when I'd acquired a security badge. I'd passed an office with a couple of desks - though no people - and seen the badge, attached to a lanyard, lying on a computer keyboard.

Grabbing it, I'd put the lanyard round my neck, then tucked the card itself into the breast pocket of my shirt. I felt I then looked like most people in big organisations, pretending that they weren't forced to go round wearing their identity on a badge. It wouldn't bear any kind of inspection though: even the most myopic security guard would quickly work out that my name wasn't Alison.

Following Kate's instructions, I looked for - and quickly found - the signs marked CONTAINMENT AREA.

The first time I met anyone on my journey there, I only just managed to stop myself physically jumping back. Instead, I briefly made eye contact and nodded, trying to keep my step easy and relaxed - while every nerve in my body seemed to be pinging the message that it was time to run.

She was a young woman, dressed in a white lab coat, and quickly looked away. I exhaled with relief when I was safely past - but wondered if I'd fare so well if the next person I met was a security guard.

I didn't have to find out.

The signs I'd been following had now come to an end. After a moment's panic, I realised this was because this section of the building was the containment area: all the signs now pointed to specific areas of it. Choosing the sign with VIEWING ROOM on it, I ducked through the door, ready to make my excuses if there was anyone else in the room.

There wasn't. Other than a table and some chairs, there was nothing in this bare room. There was, however, a vertical blind running most of the length of one wall - and from behind it, streamed bright white light.



Story begins here.