Stumbling in stutters, the lab coat used his keycard to access the safe room. True to his word, the black walls slid above a transparent screen surface, to reveal a large pair of metal canisters shrouded in vapor. While Raptor examined the refrigerated environment, Jessica tapped the scientist's shoulder.
"What did you mean when you said these are meant for Azareans?"
"Once they graduate final testing, the strains will be mass-produced," he answered. "That's what they told us."
"Who's they?"
"Guys," Shannon called, rising up the stairs with the pilot around her shoulder, "are we there yet?"
"Medic, give that man first aid," said Raptor.
The closest operative untucked the pilot from Shannon's arms. "Don't worry, I have him," she said softly, then laid him aside and unlatched a medical kit from her hardpack, and the pilot gave Shannon a bitter-sweet thumbs up in parting.
Raptor grabbed the scientist. "Do you keep records of your experiments?"