Sarg and Drayco took the stairs—they’d shared a loathing for technology-trap elevators ever since being stuck in one for hours—and headed up toward Reed Upperman’s domain. A security camera near the corridor ceiling pointed toward a door that said “Rodent Room.”
Mini-skyscraper racks filled with their doomed dwellers lined the walls, tended by two students in white lab coats. The cages were claustrophobically small. Maybe Drayco could sneak back in later and liberate a few white Wistar rats? Probably wouldn’t go over well. Despite the ventilation system, whiffs of musky ammonia from rat urine followed Drayco past the room.
He poked Sarg in the arm. “So what did you think of Gilbow?”
“People pay him big bucks? I’m in the wrong business.” Sarg stopped as they came to a lab with 313 above
