“Okay,” Ralph said. “We can leave right now.”
“Let’s do that. One thing … before we go … we should leave our phones here.”
“Why?”
Wide-eyed, Britt said, “Trust me on this one.”
Ralph saw the dead serious look on Britt’s face. Not sure this was a joke, he pulled his Nebula 97X out of his pocket. “Do you have a place I can lock this thing up, Britt?”
“Sure.” Britt went into the utility room and opened a wall-mounted steel cabinet. A text alert sounded as she set the devices on the shelf. The ME wanted to see her immediately. I wonder what he wants? She closed the door and pocketed the key.
“Do you mind telling me what the fuck is going on?” Ralph turned to Britt and started the car.
“This is going to sound … weird …” Britt trailed off.
“Ooh …” Ralph grinned. “I like weird shit.”
“Either you take my word on what I’m about to say or you don’t. It’s up to you, Blad.”
“All right.”
“Since I was a small child, I get certain feelings when I’m around danger.”
“You mean like emotions?”
“No.” Britt shook her head. “I’m talking physical. From mild numbness to extreme pain and all points in between.”
“And you’re getting that now?”
“Yes … I call this one Ash Mouth. It usually comes on when something bad is about to happen.”
“Wow … Your spider sense is tingling. Where to, Britt?”
Britt gave Ralph a long, hard look. Is he taking me seriously or is he just humoring a hysterical female?
“Medical Examiner’s office,” she said.
* * *
Crossfire’s electron arrived at the complex. It located Britt’s apartment and rolled through the space under the door. The single electron copied itself. The two copies split again until a swarming mist rose and formed a cylinder. The top of the cylinder shrunk to form a head. A pair of jointed tubes extended from a point below the head. Hands and silver tipped fingers grew from wrist joints. The featureless head took the form of a skull. Yellows eyes bulged. From the hollow nose socket, hairs, four on each side, grew into eight wriggling tentacles reaching past the chin.
A hooded robe formed, wrapping the figure. The Judge was in the room. The intended targets were gone.
Brittany Magnusson and Ralph Bladdington where not there.
From the DNA analysis of a single female hair found on the arm of a chair, Crossfire merged with the most powerful instinctual pattern defined so far. It could almost taste hot synapses exploding like transformers hit by lightning. It needed to drain that brain.
Crossfire disassembled and returned home.
TWENTY-SIX
RALPH SAW THE bronze plaque that read Broward County Office of Medical Examiner. He pulled in the entrance and found a spot near the administration building.
“The ME said to come over ASAP,” Britt said. “He should be in his office.”
They left word at the reception area in the main building. “Dr. Naparus has been expecting you, Detective Magnusson …” The receptionist hesitated. She looked Ralph up and down. “He wasn’t expecting two people. And you are?”
Ralph flashed an ID badge. “Technical Specialist Ralph Bladdington.”
The receptionist studied the police identification for a few seconds and then tapped the keyboard on the desk. She arranged a stack of documents while Britt and Ralph waited. A pop-up window alert went off. “Dr. Naparus is in room 18 on the basement level. You can go through the facility to the service elevator.”
Britt and Ralph followed the directory through the warehouse complex to the elevator. They rode the oversize compartment to the basement. Overhead lamps illuminated a lone hallway. Staggered steel doors lined both sides. Numbered placards sat below utility wall sconces. All lamps glowed red except for the green one at the end of the hallway above room 18.
“That’s a good sign,” Ralph said. He pushed a red button above the door handle. A buzzer sounded, and the button changed to green.
Inside, Dr. Naparus stood next to a steel examining table with his back to the door. He turned when Britt cleared her throat. “I thought you should see this,” the doctor said.
A naked corpse, a woman, lay on the table. Dozens of electrodes were attached to a shaven head. Wires led from connecting clips and merged into a silver plug. One end terminated into a data port on a computer on a wheeled metal stand. A monitor, keyboard, and printer were built into the top of the unit.
Britt saw the bulging eyes. Her mouth tasted like the bottom of a chain smoker’s ashtray for a moment when she realized she was looking at Margaret Montague. “What’s up with the victim’s body?” She said, voice cracking.
“I’m not sure,” Dr. Naparus said.
Britt saw no incisions. “Why hasn’t the autopsy begun?”
“And why would a corpse need an EEG?” Ralph said.
“The Margaret Montague death is your case … right?” Dr. Naparus looked Britt in the eye.
“That’s right … it’s being investigated as a murder,” Britt said. “That still doesn’t answer the question about the autopsy delay and EEG.”
“Well, right from the beginning, one of my medical assistants noticed something strange. After death, the temperature of the human body falls about 1.5° Fahrenheit every hour until reaching room temperature. Margaret Montague’s temperature has been holding at 91° since she’s been here.”
“That’s … weird,” Britt said.
Ralph beat her to the next question. “Was the body ever placed in cold storage?”
“Yes … for over two hours. That’s when I made the decision to have Margaret brought down here.”
“You’re talking about her as though she were still alive,” Britt said.
Dr. Naparus raised his eyebrows and nodded but remained silent.
“Are you saying that Margaret Montague is not dead?” Ralph said. The look in his eyes told Britt he saw a wild conspiracy bubbling.
“I’m not about to give an opinion on that question … only report the strange events recorded so far.”
A wave of dizziness hit. In the split second that passed Britt felt as though time stretched out like a piece of taffy. Right from the beginning, this whole thing had been one big puzzle. Jesus Martin, the drug dealer, had his brain fried by a type of advanced sonic cannon. No eyewitnesses and no evidence. Two employees of the power company suffered the same fate. No eyewitnesses and no evidence. A drug dealer connected with Martin and the cartel had his brain turned into a lump of play dough. One eyewitness on the video surveillance that may be a high-powered pixel projection. Now the ME is making noises about Montague’s body temperature. What next?
The dizziness passed. The time hold out went back to normal. Only a few seconds elapsed since Dr. Naparus made the announcement about the whacked-out body temperature.
TWENTY-SEVEN
“I DECIDED TO investigate further,” Naparus said. “The first step was a blood sample. The patient’s blood cells showed evidence of the tissue bonding occurring during the freezing process.”
Britt waited for the doctor to pause. “Two things. One, I’m finding it creepy that you’ve started referring to the victim as the patient. Two, I thought you said the body temperature had been holding steady at 91°.”
Naparus hesitated. He removed a polishing cloth from the breast pocket of his lab coat then pulled off his eyeglasses. The doctor reset the thick frames on the bridge of his long nose. “I’m going to get to the point. With every test I do and when I see the results of these tests I’m convinced of the fact that Margaret Montague is still alive …” Naparus trailed off, letting the last part sink in.
“Go on,” Ralph said. He was eager to hear the rest.
Britt kept her mouth shut, stomach turning and knees buckling. Fear of what lurked in the dark came on with each bead of sweat dripping down her forehead. Lights Out hit hard for a few seconds th
en faded.
“At that point, I opted for a CT scan.” Naparus hesitated again, the look on his face, squinted eyes and furrowed brow, said he was weighing his words. “I think it would be better if I showed you what I found.”
“Please do,” Ralph said. He rubbed his palms together.
“All right.” Britt nodded, waiting to see if the symptom would be coming back.
Britt and Ralph followed Dr. Naparus. The doctor unlocked a drawer in a metal cabinet. He set a Manila folder on the stainless-steel top and waved his hand over the work lamp. “This is a shot of the patient’s brain, and this is a picture of a normal brain.” Naparus laid out two scans side by side.
Britt shrugged, wrinkled her nose, took a deep breath, then let it out. “We know this. Margaret Montague’s brain cells have been turned into closed cell Styrofoam and her eyeballs into baked marbles.”
“Agreed,” Naparus said. He removed another scan from the folder. “This is what tipped me off.” The doctor traced a circle on the section just above the spine on the profile image.
“What’s up with the brain stem?” Ralph said.
“You have to look closer,” Naparus said.
Ralph leaned in. “Do you have this on a screen we can zoom into, Doctor?”
“I erased the scans from memory. I only have the prints.” Dr. Naparus reached into the drawer and pulled out a magnifying glass.
Britt and Ralph took turns looking at the marked area.
“What do you see?” Naparus said when he took the glass back.
“The marked area seems darker than the surrounding area,” Britt said.
Ralph confirmed. “That’s my takeaway … Darker”
Britt was losing her patience. What’s the significance of a discolored area in already fucked up brain? “What does all this mean, Dr. Naparus?
Naparus reached for the folder. “I have other comparisons.”
“Never mind that,” Britt said. “We take your word on this. What are you getting at?”
Ralph cleared his throat. “The suspense is killing me.”
“This section of the brain stem is where all the body’s vital functions are monitored and controlled,” Naparus said. “The discoloration you see on the image is a cluster of pure silver nodules.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
BRITT GAVE THE doctor a blank look. “How do you account for that?”
“I don’t.” Naparus shook his head. “I quit trying to apply reason to this mess hours ago. At this point, the best I can do is observe.”
Ralph took another approach. “What have your observations shown you so far?” Bringing this out into the open might help to work through it.
“One thing … the possibility Margaret Montague is not dead,” Naparus said. He looked at the floor and shifted his weight.
“Right, we know how you feel about the big picture,” Britt said. “Let’s try to break this down. What is the significance of silver in the brain stem? I mean, we know it’s there. Why is it there?”
Ralph and Naparus came to the same conclusion at the same time. Ralph spoke first. “Pure silver is one of the best conductors of electrical current.”
“Correct.” Naparus said.
“Is there a way to monitor this thing?” Britt said.
Dr. Naparus went on to explain the procedure. “We need to set probes into the brain stem. The procedure is like a biopsy. The probe is inserted through the spinal column.”
“Can we do this here?”
“Yes, Detective Magnusson.”
“Are you okay with that, Doctor?”
“Yes, Detective Magnusson.”
Dr. Naparus opened a drawer on the EEG cart. He removed a plastic package. From the package, the doctor pulled out a long, thin needle attached to a pair of twisted wires. Naparus plugged the wire terminal into an open port.
Naparus placed two fingers on Margaret Montague’s upper spinal cord and felt around. “Right there.” He marked a dot under the tip of his index finger as he lifted it.
With a twist of the wrist, the doctor found the angle of entry. In one motion, he inserted the needle and drove it home.
Naparus returned to the EEG. “Well, we know one thing for sure.”
Britt and Ralph waited to hear the rest.
“The pure silver node in the brain stem is sending and picking up low frequency electrical current.”
“Whoa …” Ralph was barely able to contain his enthusiasm. “So, the corpse …” He air quoted the word. “Is capable of transmitting and receiving electrical impulses.”
Naparus didn’t want to believe it but he couldn’t deny it. “It could happen.”
“And what would happen if this transfer took place?” Britt said.
Naparus hesitated. He mulled the question over before answering. “I’m going out on a limb here. The blood and internal organs are in a pristine cryogenic state. The brain has been solidified into a pliable glass-like substance. The stem, where the central nervous system is located, has been infused with a conductive node fashioned from pure silver.” Naparus left it at that.
“What’s your conclusion?” Britt said. Again, Naparus hesitated. Britt felt a numbness beginning in her toes and traveling up to her scalp in the blink of an eye. The fear of the night and what could be hiding behind closed doors came on strong.
“Margaret Montague is not dead. She’s in a dormant state that may be activated from a signal from an external source to the silver node.”
Britt had never been this close to the edge of the unknown. She felt like she was standing on a sheer cliff dropping to infinity. “Do you think the victim is waiting for a signal?” She wasn’t ready to accept the fact she wasn’t looking at a corpse.
“I don’t know that.” Naparus shrugged.
“I have an idea,” Ralph said.
“Oh.” Naparus adjusted his glasses.
Britt leaned in closer. “Let’s hear it.”
“I say we induce a mild electrical stimulus through the EEG and see what happens.” He looked from Britt to the doctor to see their reactions. Britt squinted and nodded. Naparus raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Ralph made a suggestion. “Maybe we should take a vote on it.”
Naparus became indignant. “This isn’t a democracy … this is my lab.”
Britt saw an opportunity. “Okay, I’ll have to report this incident to my lieutenant and it will probably go the captain. Who knows what the media will do with the story if and when it leaks …” Britt trailed off, waiting to see what affects her words had.
“All right,” Naparus said. The last thing he wanted was this to turn into a bizarre public spectacle. “We’ll go ahead with the Frankenstein’s monster procedure.”
It was a simple matter of replacing the lead from the probe with another set of wires terminating in a pair of alligator clips. “Do you have a battery?” Ralph said. “A six volt would be ideal.”
Dr. Naparus went to his desk and opened a drawer. He returned with a battery and set it on the EEG cart. “Will this do?”
“Excellent.” Ralph set the black wire on the negative terminal. He opened the clip of the positive lead and moved the jaws closer. He looked at Britt and the doctor. “Here goes,” he said.
The feint pulsating signal from the brain stem spiked off the graph then collapsed. It fired again and continued. Ralph and Dr. Naparus stared at the EEG read out.
“Oh my god,” Naparus said.
“Open channel z,” Ralph said.
Britt kept her mouth shut. She stared at the victim, looking for signs of life.
Then she saw it. The pupils expanded and contracted from clear to the edges of the cornea to pinpoints. Britt looked at the EEG reading. The pupil motion matched the frequency spikes. “Dr. Naparus,” Britt said. “I think you should see this. The electrical current is stimulating a motor response.”
“Is it …” Ralph didn’t finish the question.
“Alive … In what sense of the word?” Naparus shook his head.
TWENTY-NINE
CROSSFIRE’S LATEST CONCEPT was about to see the light. Replicating humans from dimensional sphere duplicates put a heavy burden on power supplies and set learning modules to maximum output. This technique was impractical and inefficient. Crossfire designed the human node network to resolve this issue.
Crossfire initiated the connection to the first node. It transmitted sensory activation signals into the brain stem. The muscles of the heart flexed. A pool of blood in the left ventricle heated congealed crystals. Lungs rose and fell. Oxygen rich blood coursed through the circulatory system. Basic awareness—depth perception based on microscopic changes in air density—returned.
Images poured through the lenses in the pupils to be transferred along the optic nerve and registered by the mid-brain.
In a fraction of a millisecond, facial recognition algorithms determined the person closest to the camera was Detective Brittany Magnusson. A threat to existence coupled with a brain overflowing with powerful patterns.
On the incoming signal from the satellite, atoms of pure silver in the brain stem broke off, invaded the bloodstream, and merged with molecules of flesh in the hands.
The execution of the detective would be the initial test for the first unit in the human node network.
“Something is happening to the hands,” Britt said.
Dr. Naparus looked up from the EEG.
In an instant, a metallic grid formed at the wrists then radiated to the fingertips. The space between the lines closed. Gray flesh solidified into shining silver.
iNode 001 was ready for deployment.
Ash Mouth came on so strong for a few seconds Britt had to breathe through her nose. The sensation made Britt back away from the table. Her elbow struck something hard. Her funny bone went haywire, tingling nonstop. Her mind cleared, and the taste of ashes dissolved.
Britt pulled away. Her elbow had grazed the metal armature used to draw brain wave patterns on paper. At the same time, the feeling of close by danger left. Maybe the two things are related? Britt thought. She put her theory to the test. She set both hands on the armature. The metal felt warm then became hot. Britt fought the pain for as long as she could then let go. Her flesh showed no signs of blistering. She grabbed hold again.
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