“John and his friend are going to the seminar tomorrow night. Came in looking for a little information to help get the ball rolling.”
John didn’t see the point in correcting him by pointing out it was only he that was going. Instead he took a moment to study the new presence in the room and found something familiar in Aaron’s dark brown, almost black eyes. He’d seen it before, usually on the faces of cops that had been forced to witness things no human being should, but there was another place he’d come across it too whether he wanted to admit it or not. The expression buried deep in Aaron’s eyes was the same that John was forced to look at every time he stepped in front of a mirror.
“Nice to meet you both,” Aaron offered with little to no sincerity before fixing his attention on Eric. “I’ll start loading the truck. If we’re going to make the meeting on time we’re gonna have to haul ass. We should be able to pack it all, but worst case scenario I can come back first thing in the morning.” He glanced around the room with a look of disappointment. “You weren’t supposed to be open today.”
“Relax soldier, you never know what he might be able to bring to the table.” Eric started to load boxes onto the counter. “We’ll make the meeting just fine.”
John spotted a small pile of pamphlets that were about to be packed away and jumped from the sofa to grab one. A quick glance revealed the locations of the other centres printed amongst a ghost like background of various chemical structures.
“I guess I’ll leave you to it,” he said as Vanessa edged her way to the door. “I appreciate you taking the time to chat with me today. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow night?”
Eric nodded as he dumped on another box on the counter, completing a pile that now seemed big enough for Aaron to grab with solid arms.
“Like I said John, take a good look at the moon and you’ll be ready for the seminar. I mean, take a look at my sorry ass. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for the reason it gave me. I don’t know what you’re looking for, but you’ll find it.”
With a stack of boxes held against his chest Aaron marched towards the door. Vanessa quickly pulled it open and the thundering guitars and drums almost doubled in volume. He gave her a playful wink and stepped out into the searing sun, dropping the load onto the back tray of his silver black truck. John and Vanessa followed closely behind, waited for their eyes to adjust to the sudden onslaught of daylight and dashed across the road.
“That was sure one hell of a pit stop,” Vanessa laughed while sliding back behind the wheel. “Boy oh boy was that cat a character, and don’t even get me started on the jellyfish!”
John tapped his finger on the back of the brochure. “There’s five other centres here in Miami. I know it’s a big ask, but if we could get to a couple of them I’ll be a real happy tourist.”
Vanessa reached across with her disfigured hand and studied the addresses as swirls of heavy metal mixed with the shifting pitches of passing engines.
“Honey, Miami ain’t no little city. We might not be able to get to them all by afternoon’s end, but I’ll give it a good shot.”
“You’re a superstar Vanessa, you know that?”
“First thing I think when I open my eyes in the morning.”
The traffic was stifling. For John though, every turn and every set of traffic lights was a new visual to soak in. She was right, it was a big city. Having no idea of where he was at any given time just added to the dominating character of the endlessly towering concrete and glass that was broken here and there by quick glimpses of the water.
If he was hoping to delve into another cryptic conversation at one of the centres he was sorely disappointed. It took just under three hours to crawl across the grid to each of the addresses on the brochure, and every time they got close enough to see their reflections in the window they were met with locked doors. If anyone was inside they sure as hell weren’t interested in visitors.
Now soaked in sweat and forced to admit defeat, John admitted to Vanessa they might as well head back to the hotel. The sun was starting to fade away and thoughts of swallowing a few pills and staring up at the ceiling were beginning to edge to the forefront.
“I’m still trying to work out what this treasure is you’re looking for,” Vanessa mused while searching the traffic for any openings. “This seminar tomorrow night must be important.”
“That’s just it,” John replied, “I still don’t have a clue what it’s about. Today was supposed to bring a few answers.”
“You ask me you’re probably better off skipping the damn thing.” A car suddenly swung across the lane, causing her to slam on the brakes with a blast of the horn. “What I mean is, the guy from earlier was nice and all but if he’s the kinda people going to this thing you’re gonna come out with a head full of crazy.”
“That may not be too far from the truth.”
John folded up the brochure and leaned back into the seat, faced with the fact that the day had brought with it only more questions. There was no point worrying about it too much though. He’d known it was a long shot from the moment he’d opened his eyes that morning, and at least he’d managed to talk with someone, even if it was a session of despair and riddles.
And then there was Rebecca. The fact that he was pretty sure he’d seen her meant she was still in the city, and that left a pretty good chance she might make an appearance at the seminar, whatever the theme of the night might prove to be.
By the time the hotel came into view the sky had become a deep orange and long dark shadows crawled across the ground. For just a moment John could almost imagine the strange glow of jellyfish floating across the horizon and wondered what would happen to the tank now that the centre had closed. Maybe, he thought, they could be taken back out to sea on one of the boats that Klementina had boasted of.
Klementina.
The sudden memory of her standing beneath the stars brought with it a strange sense of anticipation and desire, but it wasn’t for her obvious beauty. No, for some reason the thought of being in her company again was strangely comforting for different reasons, and while the cryptic conversation he’d experienced with Eric may have ramped up his interest in what the seminar might prove to reveal, a chance to see the tattooed host one more time made things a little more exciting.
“Looks like the journey ends for another day.” The sound of Vanessa’s voice snapped him back into the moment. “That is, unless you’re gonna take my advice and look for a little love under the cover of darkness.”
“After spending a day with you Vanessa, anyone else just won’t cut it,” John laughed as the familiar warmth began to creep in his stomach now that chemical slow down was imminent.
“That’s the kinda problem I come with.”
“One thing’s for sure, I’ll be taking you out for dinner before I’m back in the air.” He reached across and squeezed her shoulder. “Thanks for the driving today, even if things didn’t really work out for us.”
“Baby, after listening to what that man had to say with those things in the tank we were lucky the other places were closed. Anymore stories like that and you would’ve been driving, that’s for damn sure.”
“Maybe so. I’ll call you in the morning when I’ve got an idea of what’s going on.”
“I’m down for that. In the meantime, this girl’s got a hot bath and a glass of wine waiting. You take care now.”
The car screeched away and John mused at the sudden loss of energy that her exit represented. Considering he was playing with someone else’s money he’d make sure the final payment for her services would be far from ordinary. Right now though all he wanted to do was get back to his room, swallow a few pills and lay down with Bobbie. The day may have kept his mind on other things, but the dark of night was rolling in and that meant sooner or later he’d have to deal with the demons. Their faces were bad enough in life, but in death they brought evil to a whole new dimension.
Avoiding any human interaction he rode the elevator up and stepped
into the brightly lit hallway, where movement caught his attention. A man and a woman dressed in matching blue suits peered back at him as he reached his door. The guy appeared tall, well over six foot, while the woman was short and round in the arms and hips. Nothing about them looked like tourists, that much was certain. Maybe it was hotel security doing a walk through? He slid his card across the digital reader and stepped into the room.
Bobbie lifted his head from the blanket and cried out at his friend’s return. The lights automatically glowed to life and he was just about to head towards the balcony when a loud knocking echoed behind him. For a moment he froze, mentally trying to come up with some sort of split second escape plan if things went south, but was quick to remember he wasn’t on the kind of job that warranted defence strategies. The knocks repeated, slightly louder this time. Most likely, he reasoned, whoever it was probably had something to do with the hotel.
He opened the door to find the same couple from the hallway staring back at him. Up close the guy was taller than he’d guessed just moments before, and beside him the woman smiled just enough to allow a glimpse of slightly yellow, crowded teeth.
“John Richter?” she asked in a manner making plain the answer was already known. “My name is Special Agent halls and this is Assistant Special Agent Max Devilian. We’re sorry to interrupt you like this but we were hoping to have a few words.”
John looked down as they both produced official identification and wondered if the day could get any stranger. What the hell could the FBI want from him?
“Yeah of course,” he stammered, “come on in.”
They nodded at the invitation and followed John to the small lounge area. Before taking a seat, Devilian whipped out a phone and spoke with a deep and monotonous voice.
“He’s arrived so you can send her up.”
Confirmation over, he slid the phone back into his jacket pocket and sat beside his partner on one of the brown leather sofas. John took a moment to scratch the back of Bobbie’s ears and then joined them, mild surprise etched across his face.
“How you finding Miami?” Special Agent Halls asked.
“It’s one hell of a place,” John offered while casually eyeing the gun that was clipped to her belt.
“It has a personality,” she replied politely, “I’ll give you that. It takes at least a week or so to pick up the rhythm. Then again, I’ve lived here nearly fifteen years and the city still manages to surprise me. In fact you could say the latest surprise is the reason we’re here.”
If John was looking for any signs of hostility he sure didn’t find any. Special Agent Halls spoke with a soft, almost maternal voice that held nothing threatening or condescending. He was about to ask what they might want to talk with him about when Devilian cleared his thick throat.
“Doing the things we do we tend to get the kind of information most people can’t,” he said, “hence our knocking on your door. Case in point, we were aware of your visit the minute your plane landed.”
“I’m not sure that I follow,” John said. Up close he could see small shiny cuts scattered across the top of Devilian’s shaved head.
“We need your help John,” Halls said softly. “We know you’re going to the seminar tomorrow night and we could really use your eyes and ears. Things have moved pretty quickly for us and it hasn’t left much time to prepare a suitable cover, and when we found out about your reason for visiting Miami we saw an opportunity.”
John mentally raced through a number of scenarios and reached the most fitting conclusion. “Something tells me you’ve spoken with Sebastian.”
“Correct,” Halls smiled. “Actually, we had reason to talk with him not long ago when he reached out with his lawyers for assistance in finding his wife. At the time we let it be known that bigger priorities were on our plates but sometimes things change in strange ways. I don’t know how the universe works but it turns out our investigation included a group of people that may have links to his wife, so we got back in contact with him to see if he could help with our inquiries. That’s when he told us about you and the job you’re working.”
John absorbed the information, agitation growing at the fact that Sebastian had given away his details so easily. Still, it made sense though. Two dogs in the fight were always going to be better than one. As a brief silence fell across the room Bobbie managed to stagger to his friend’s feet, sniff at the air and jump up onto his legs where he curled up with the sound of a soft running engine.
“So you know who I am and why I’m here,” John sighed, “but I don’t know how I can be any help. I’m assuming you’re talking about this Hallucigenia Project but as things stand right now I don’t really have much for you.”
Devilian smiled slowly, allowing the stern features of his face to soften.
“Seems like you were a pretty good cop before changing careers. If you ask me anyone brave enough to step out with a badge and gun not knowing if they’ll make it home alive is cut from a very special cloth, so there’s no doubt you’ve got the sharps to deal with sticky situations. That’s why we want your help John.”
He glanced at Halls as though indicating it was her time to talk again.
“From what we can tell,” she took over, “tomorrow night’s seminar will be the last one and that means a major window is going to close. We don’t know what happens at these things because nobody seems to talk, even the ones that don’t follow through. That’s where you can help. You can tell us what these meetings are all about and maybe build up some relationships with the people running the show.”
John absorbed the conversation but found the familiar sense of wanting struggling for attention. He’d come to learn that once his thought process set a course in motion his neural chemistry wouldn’t rest until it had been fed, and this time the desire had begun the moment he’d waved goodbye to Vanessa.
“Excuse me for just a second,” he said while sliding Bobbie onto the cushions and stepping into the kitchen to grab the pill bottle. With growing anticipation he tapped several of the blue discs into his palm and talked over his shoulder. “Maybe you could help me out a little and give me an idea of what I’m actually dealing with.” The pills slid down the back of this throat where muscles dragged them down with glee. “As strange as things have been so far I’m only supposed to be trying to fix a broken marriage, yet here I am with two FBI agents in my hotel room and the feeling I’m wading into waters a little deeper than expected.”
“That’s the problem with cults,” Halls offered while watching John return to his seat, “they have an uncanny way of drawing you further than you thought.”
“So what you’re saying is that this Hallucigenia Project is officially a cult and not just a play to make money?”
“As far as definitions go,” Halls responded, “it’s absolutely a cult, and while we can’t be sure it seems to have been functioning for more than a year now. As far as the FBI is concerned though, groups forming in the fringes aren’t really a concern unless they start to cross certain lines.”
“What kind of lines are we talking about?” John asked with professional interest.
“Ethical and legal lines,” Halls continued. “The majority tend to have a pretty short lifespan. Usually they’ll pop up, run for a while with some pie in the sky agenda and then fizzle out when they don’t achieve whatever utopia they’re looking for. Every now and then one might develop a bit of a foot hold and become established, but it’s usually the ones that discover the kind of money that can be made. Not exactly ethical, but we’re a barter society and if people want to buy a sense of belonging there’s not much we can do to stop them.” She reached across and traced a finger along Bobbie’s neck. “We, meaning the FBI, usually start to take interest when people are at the risk of losing more than just money. When liberty and life begin to become compromised we tend to take a stern view.”
“Are you saying that’s what’s happening here?” John asked. “I mean, are we talking Nike sneakers and suic
ide?”
“No,” Devilian jumped in, “things are a little different in this instance. Interesting you bring that particular case up though.” He leaned forward with a glimmer in his eyes. “I got my shield back in California in March, 1997. First job given to me was to interview some of those members, at least the ones that got out in time. Listening to stories of a space ship arriving in the tail of a comet was a bit of a shock introduction to the agency I can assure you.” There was a slight pause as he rubbed the edges of his fingers. “Heaven’s Gate. Sounded innocent enough didn’t it? And yet they believed the planet was going to be renewed and aliens would take them away. Insane really, but that belief had thirty nine people take their own lives. That’s thirty nine families senselessly destroyed.”
John remembered the images he’d seen years back of the bodies lying in bunk beds, shoes on ready for a supposed journey to the stars. He also remembered how strangely haunting the footage had been, especially considering he had seen his fair share of suicide scenes and the majority were marked with bullet destruction or signs of last minute struggle and never impressions of tranquillity.
“So while we don’t know much about this particular group,” Devilian continued, “it doesn’t yet appear to be corrupting liberty in any way. I say yet because a little research into cults and mind control, which is always the backbone, makes it plainly obvious that things are probably going to change very quickly.”
Although listening with a professional intensity, Halls none the less had found herself caught by Bobbie’s spell and moved to the cushion beside him, happily scratching her fingers through his fur. “It all sounds very ominous,” she finally said, “but the reality is a little more sobering, for want of a better word. You’re looking for someone and, as chance would have it, so are we. Hence, here we are.”
Devilian nodded his confirmation. “After talking with Sebastian and learning about your history in law enforcement, we thought we’d reach out for your help.” Suddenly there was another knock on the door. “Perfect timing.”
The Hallucigenia Project Page 14