Ghostfinders 02 - Ghost of a Smile

problems with the basic concept of civilisation. The scientists here were working with stem cells, because they can be made to function as any kind of cell, and they’ve been using them up by the truckload. Remember the invoices I found below? You can’t legally get your hands on this amount . . . You know stem cells are derived from aborted human embryos, right?”
    “I thought I read somewhere that scientists can get stem cells out of the human placentas, these days.” said JC.
    Melody sniffed. “Some scientists don’t like to change their ways. As long as something works, they tend to stick with it. But what’s really nasty is what these people were using them for. They had their very own Bio Reactor, basically a machine that can build living materials from a basic set-up. So—stem cells, artificially strengthened through genetic modification, then persuaded to form complete individual human organs. For the transplant trade. And they didn’t stop there. They weren’t only making hearts and kidneys and lungs to order—they were working to strengthen and improve these organs, to make them more suitable for transplantation. Super-organs. Very expensive, for very illegal black-market transplants.”
    “JC,” said Happy. “We really have to get the word out about what’s going on here. You can bet that Mutable Solutions will make all this evidence disappear long before the proper authorities can get involved. These bastards can’t be allowed to get away with this.”
    “I’m sorry,” said Kim, “but I don’t understand. More organs, for transplant? Better organs? That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
    “Depends how much you charge,” said JC. “People are supposed to receive organs based on how badly they need them. This is an expensive way to queue-jump. This whole floor is a crime scene.”
    “We have to make contact with the outside world!” said Happy. “People have to hear the truth, before MSI can bury it!”
    “I’m not disagreeing with you, Happy,” said JC. “I just don’t see how. No phones, no e-mail, no telepathy. Everything’s being jammed.”
    “Then one of us has to get the hell out of here and deliver the bad news in person,” Happy said firmly.
    “Of course,” said JC. “A volunteer is what’s needed here. Would I be right in thinking that you have such a person in mind?”
    “I’ll go!” said Happy. “Be glad to see the back of this place. Really!”
    JC considered him thoughtfully. “You’re really willing to go back down all those stairs, on your own, past all those very dangerous floors, and through a lobby probably still booby-trapped with things even worse than shell ghosts? In the hope that, if by some chance you should actually reach the exit door, you would be allowed to leave the building alive?”
    “Well,” said Happy, “When you put it like that . . . Not as such, no.”
    “There is a short cut,” said Melody.
    “Where?” said Happy immediately. “Point me at it. Oh wait a minute—the elevator? I don’t think so.”
    “I was thinking more about the window,” said Melody. She pointed at the glass windows that made up most of the opposite wall. “I mean, I’m sure they’re all heavily reinforced security glass, but one good burst from my machine pistol should take care of that. Then all you have to do is climb down the outside of the building, thus avoiding all the nasty floors and unpleasant surprises in the lobby, and hurry off to summon the cavalry.”
    “Climb?” said Happy. “The word plummet comes more forcefully to mind! You know I hate heights.”
    “Sounds like a plan to me,” JC said cheerfully.
    “You’re all against me,” said Happy.
    “Cheer up, lover,” said Melody. “I was only kidding. I won’t let the nasty team leader throw you out the window.”
    “Thank you,” said Happy.
    “Not as long as there’s any other option.”
    Happy glared at her. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”
    “Because I can do that incredibly disgusting thing with my tongue,” said Melody. “And you love it when I . . .”
    “Not listening, not listening!” JC said loudly. “Far too much information. Let’s leave the topic of throwing Happy out the window for the time being. Truth is, I don’t think whatever is in here is going to let any of us out, through the doors or the windows, anytime soon. Melody, if you’d be so good . . .”
    “I know, I know, find a computer. Got one right here.”
    “Then boot it up