The Hallucigenia Project

by Darren Kasenkow

  The judge, mercifully, had begged to differ and as Candice pushed away from the glass and threw the papers back onto the desk she found herself sickened by the woman in the chair. Hell, if she had to be honest she’d love nothing more than to spit in her face the second she opened her eyes, only the knowledge that they still needed to pick her brain a little more meant the desire would have to be pushed back down. For now she’d have to settle for quiet disgust.

  With a sudden determination to be rid of her innocent looking monster, she tapped one of the screens to alert security then stared down at her face. How quickly, she pondered, a little information can change the way you look at someone. She brought her hand up ready to strike. What did she experience in there, she wondered? Who was the architect of the corridors that declared her not welcome, and where the hell did they come from? Should she even be using the word they? Maybe she was looking at things the wrong way. Maybe she was simply chasing whisper like shadows of moments of insanity that would dissolve beneath the bright light of science.

  A sharp crack echoed across the room as her hand connected with Loretta’s cheek, sending her eyes open with a start.

  “Time to wake up,” Candice announced.

  It took a couple of seconds for the startled confusion to wash from Loretta’s face. “I’m cold,” she stammered.

  “Cold hearted,” Candice whispered.

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing. We’re finished here for today.”

  “What do you mean today? There’s no way I’m going back on that thing.”

  “Unfortunately Loretta it’s not exactly a matter of choice.” Candice did her best to remain professional. “Look, just try and get some sleep tonight. Things will look a little different tomorrow. Two more sessions and they’ll give you your request for the transfer. It’s what you want isn’t it, to be closer to your sister?”

  “She’s all I got but I don’t know if I can do it again,” Loretta stammered

  “Things will look easier tomorrow, I promise.”

  The metal doors opened and a bored looking prison officer squeezed his bulky frame into the room. Rodney followed close behind and edged his way to Candice, who was quick to recognise the expression on his face. It was simmering excitement at the events that had transpired via the broadcast to his office.

  She was reluctant but none the less helped Loretta to her feet. The officer was gentle yet firm with his application of the metal bracelets, and was careful to ensure they weren’t too tight as Loretta offered one last look of resignation. Nobody so much as whispered as they exited the room. It wasn’t until the door was closed and the hallway fell silent that Rodney found his voice.

  “Did you see what happened?” he asked while falling into the chair. “Something communicated with her.”

  “We can’t be sure of anything just yet,” Candice replied cautiously. “On the screener she ticked all the boxes but there’s some serious baggage she’s carrying.”

  “I know, I read through her file.”

  “I thought we were weren’t going through their paperwork until they’ve had their first connect?”

  “No, you were keeping the files closes until the first connect. You’re face to face with them, I’m not. Either way it doesn’t matter. Something managed to get her nice and unsettled, and whatever it was seemed to know her history before you did.” A puzzled look crept into his eyes. “We lost four servers while she was in as a result of some power surges. The data hasn’t been damaged but whatever caused the processors to cook was strong enough to bypass all the safety switches. I told you something changed yesterday, something big.”

  “Maybe, but if the code’s been altered in any way then it must have come from the outside.”

  “Not necessarily.” Suddenly Rodney’s phone interrupted the conversation, frustration obvious as he brought it to his ear. At first he just listened while tapping the edge of the chair, before his eyes suddenly widened and the tapping stopped. “I don’t understand,” he growled into the handset. “Her hands were secure when she left the room.” He listened intently with a slow shake of his head. “It is what it is I guess. Might as well get the paperwork started straight away because we’re going in again first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Candice made sure the call was terminated before jumping in.

  “What the hell’s going on?” she asked.

  Rodney sighed and looked over at the desk as though searching for something. “Seems you might have left something unattended.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “Our text subject got her hands on the syringe,” he revealed. “She asked to use the wash room and convinced the officer to let her take care of business with her hands unshackled.” He shrugged his shoulders and rubbed at his chin. “She had nowhere to run so he uncuffed her and stood by the door. There was a commotion and, unfortunately, he found her painting the cubicle red. Don’t ask me how, but she managed to use the needle to hack into her own jugular. I guess she really didn’t want to go back to prison.”

  “Jesus,” Candice stuttered. “I didn’t even see her take it.”

  “There’s nothing we can do about it now. This morning we didn’t even know if she’d live through the connect, so at least we got some data before her exit. Anyway, another subject isn’t going to be an issue, there’s a full prison at our disposal.”

  “No kid killers this time,” Candice said firmly. “I have to sit down with them, you don’t.”

  “They’re off the list as of now.”

  “I hope so.” She stepped to one of the computer screens and brought the display to life with a swipe of her finger. “We should start the analysis while things are still fresh.”

  “Of course, but just one more thing before we begin. This guy you met with, is he going to help us?”

  “He’s got the letter and says he’ll keep an eye out. It’s a long shot I know, but it’s a shot just the same.”

  Candice studied the graph that was building on the screen but silently was cursing her absent mindfulness. How could she have just left the syringe lying there like that? Such a simple, stupid mistake and now a woman was dead. Granted, after what she’d read in the file it was hard to produce any real sympathy, but it was a fuck up none the less. Blood, it seemed, was quickly becoming a staple of the lab. She looked across to Rodney and wondered if he cared at all about the loss of life they’d documented but knew it was impossible to tell. Anyway, after what had happened today death wasn’t overly important. The soul of the machine had made its first appearance and that meant things had just become a whole lot crazier.

  Chapter 15

  John stepped out of the shower and caught his reflection in the mirror. Long worn scars were still red from the heat of the water as soft light shone down onto solidly toned muscle coloured with slow forming bruises, blue indicators of the punches that had found their mark. He took a moment to look into his own eyes but if he was searching for anything in particular, he didn’t find it. If anything, he was surprised they didn’t hold their usual dull, exhausted sheen. Maybe it had something to do with the shots of adrenaline the day had delivered, or maybe it was the simmering sense of curiosity for what the night had in store.

  He threw on some clean clothes and stepped into the room where Vanessa waited patiently on the sofa, her hand gently stroking Bobbie who was curled on her lap in obvious bliss. Even from the other side of the room he could hear him purring.

  “I think me and Bobbie here have started something special,” Vanessa grinned. “I can see why you don’t wanna leave home without him.”

  “I made a promise to the little guy that I’d never leave him on his own for too long,” John replied. “Didn’t think that’d mean landing in another country together, but here we are I guess.”

  “There ain’t nothing little about this guy, he’s one of the biggest damn cats I’ve ever seen!”

  “He sure eats like a big cat that’s for sure.” Through the window h
e could see daylight beginning to fade, and with the approaching darkness came the clockwork like urge to screw the lid off the bottle and down a few pills. For now though he’d have to fight back the want. He needed to stay sharp. “I’m going to feel those punches of yours in the morning, I promise you that.”

  “That’s the beauty of a Miami kiss, it lingers like a lover’s touch.”

  “I didn’t know I was looking for love,” John smiled.

  “I didn’t know I was looking to give any,” Vanessa answered with a soft laugh before checking her watch. “You wanna make this fancy meeting of yours and find whoever it is you gotta find we better start thinking about doing some traffic dancing.”

  John nodded in agreement, stepped quickly into the kitchen area and turned his back so that she didn’t see him slip the pill bottle into his pocket. Just in case, he justified. Then he topped up Bobbie’s bowl with some fancy tuna, picked his little buddy up to whisper goodbye and reached out to Vanessa with a small roll of cash.

  “What’s that supposed to be?” she asked.

  John tilted his head, momentarily confused. “It’s the bonus I owe you.”

  “And what am I supposed to do with it?”

  “I don’t know, I was thinking maybe take someone special out for dinner or something.”

  “I think those punches you wore have got you still confused. Firstly, you’re paying me to be your driver and so that’s what I do. Fast, slow, it don’t matter. My job is to get you from point A to point B and back again.” Her familiar smile was there, but for a second it seemed almost strained. “Secondly, I’m more of a solo girl, you know? Only special people I know are just waiting to put another scar on this little ‘ole heart o mine, and I don’t quite feel up to adding any more.”

  John wasn’t sure what to say as she looked away and grabbed her keys from the table. When he’d offered the money it was with nothing but good intentions, so the solemn reaction was definitely unexpected. As far as he was concerned it was the least he could do for the rubber on the road performance she’d put on. He looked down at the money in his hand.

  “I’ll tell you what then,” he said animatedly, “let’s change the parameters. You’ll be my driver of course, but now you’ll also be a big cat handler. So get me to the seminar, and I’ll give you the card to my room so you can order some take out and look after Bobbie until I’m ready to come back. After seeing the way you can throw a set of gloves, I’ll know he’s in good hands.”

  “You mean hand,” Vanessa laughed while holding up her compromised fingers.

  “We really need to talk about your sense of humour,” John replied.

  “You got yourself a deal.”

  On the journey down to the car John couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder every few steps to see if his mysterious admirers from earlier that morning had decided to show their faces. They had either stepped up their game, however, or decided they’d had enough for the day, made evident by the fact that the lobby was uncharacteristically barren but for a few uniformed staff, including the concierge who managed to extract a tip from John for merely guiding them to the car.

  Whilst battling with traffic on the way to the destination conversation was minimal as electronic dance music thumped from the speakers. On more than one occasion he was tempted to bring up the earlier conversation but each time he was about to open his mouth something inside told him to keep it shut, and so instead soaked in the dazzling displays of the neon of the city beginning to greet the dark of night.

  When they finally reached the address John peered up through the windscreen at the towering buildings that lined the busy street and felt a surge of excitement. Exactly what he might be excited for he wasn’t too sure, but one thing he could safely bet on was that there was little chance the evening would be boring. And if his bet went south and he was wrong, the container in his pocket would help to finish the day the way he preferred, detached from reality in a thick, self induced mist.

  Vanessa checked her watch and then rolled her neck. “Looks like you’re a few minutes early.”

  “So what is this place?” John asked as swirling and pulsing lights ran up and down the edges of the building.

  “One of the new casinos that opened in the city a couple of years ago. As far as losing you’re money’s concerned here’s as good as any.”

  “I’m not much of a gambling man actually.”

  “Not a person goes through those doors that doesn’t say the same thing,” Vanessa laughed. “As long as you’ve got one arm and a wallet they’ll get you before the night’s out.”

  “Wanna bet?” John smiled.

  “I think it’s time you got out of my car,” Vanessa sighed mockingly at the pun. “You go do what you gotta do, and me and Bobbie will get the party started. Call me when the fun’s over and I’ll be on my way.”

  John jumped into the night and made his way into the casino’s foyer. If he thought the city lights were impressive, the sudden abundance of flashing colours that greeted him was almost overwhelming. It was a metallic ocean of electronic slot machines that was laid out before him, each with their own little light show and fairground like music. Every few seconds, rising above the din of coins falling into steel trays and amplified chatter, a piercing ringing bell fought for audio domination.

  The crowd huddled around the flashing, singing money catchers came in all shapes and sizes but shared the same concentrated look of desperation. As he soaked in the atmosphere and adjusted to the sounds, he had to wonder what sort of cult used a casino to peddle their wares. Just to be sure, he checked the message to confirm it was the third floor he was after. Another bell rang and someone called out as though they’d just scored a winning goal before he found the elevator and headed up.

  Soft classical music accompanied him on the short journey and when the doors slid open he found himself stepping into a huge, softly lit conference room with small round tables decorating the floor. At the far end of the room a small stage sat empty beneath a series of spotlights that pointed down onto a lectern and microphone. Just over half of the tables were already graced with guests, and to John’s right stood an ornate wooden counter where a middle aged woman held a steady smile to greet new arrivals. Judging by the emblem on her shirt he figured she was employed by the casino, and as he began to make his way towards her he noticed two towering security guards standing by the wall. The odds were fair, he concluded, that he was in the right place.

  Once close enough he looked down to see the name Sara etched in gold on the host’s badge and smiled to attract her attention.

  “Welcome to the very last session for the Hallucigenia Project sir,” Sara said with an overabundance of cheer. “I’ll be happy to show you to your seat once we’ve verified your reservation.”

  “Of course,” John replied. He handed her his phone and watched as she scanned the code that had accompanied the message, soft classical music rising and falling from unseen speakers across the room.

  “That’s perfect Mr Richter. Now, if you’d like to please follow me.”

  He kept close to Sara’s small frame as she guided their way through tables that gently glowed beneath tall candles encased in red glass. There was a definite air of excitement to the room as various guests looked up from their drinks at the new arrival, and he felt it was more like a simmering audience eagerly awaiting the first chords of a rock concert than a gathering of strangers ready to peek into a rabbit hole.

  They had almost made it to the front of the stage when Sara stopped at one of the tables and offered him a chair. He glanced down and saw that he wouldn’t be without company as a serious looking guy with a face that reminded him of a battle weary lion looked up at him from the glass he’d been tinkering with. John lowered himself into the chair and felt the warmth of the small, flickering flame across his cheeks.

  “Will some red wine be suitable for you at this stage?” Sara asked with a tilt of her head.

  “That sounds fine,” he
replied before reaching across with his hand to introduce himself. “John Richter mate, nice to meet you.”

  A large meaty paw engulfed his hand though the pressure was surprisingly relaxed. “The name’s Joey. Joey from New York.” His thick American accent seemed to roll with a slight Spanish influence. “Looks like we got the good seats.”

  “Sure seems that way,” John agreed, “but to be honest I’ve got no idea what we might be in for.”

  “That makes two of us brother,” Joey remarked. “All I know is I’m ready for a serious change so I’m willing to see where this might take me. You know what they say, nothing ventured nothing got. Besides, I’ve been hearing a few whispers here and there and they reckon this is some heavy duty shit.”

  John lifted his eyebrows but kept silent as Sara presented him with a freshly opened bottle of wine accompanied with a stunning crystal glass. He couldn’t help but notice that Joey had opted for some sort of bourbon rather than wine, and as Sara slipped away he poured a drink and scanned the room.

  “So what sort of whispers are we talking about?” he asked Joey as casually as he could.

  “You’re English right? No hang on,” Joey pointed a finger across the table, “you look like you’re not afraid of a little sun.” His fingers snapped with a crack. “Australian, you gotta be.”

  “It’s that obvious huh?”

  “Nah, I’ve got an ear for things like that. If you ask me, it’s always good to have an idea of where someone’s coming from. Different cultures, they make the world go round, you know what I mean?” He sipped from his glass and winced as though it burned. “As for the whispers I picked up on the street, word is something’s brewing out there, something bad, and this project is looking to put together a bit of an action plan.”