“And what about you Klementina,” John asked with a heavy heart, “what happens once Talitha shoots off to the stars?”
“If Talitha shoots off into the stars it won’t matter what happens to me.” Her eyes showed that she meant it, with a distant sadness pulling at the edge of her brow. “First thing’s first though,” she said while leading him to the door, “you need to find your way back to the city and I’ll let you know once the buses are ready to head underground, so pack light and be on standby because the show could start any minute.”
In the hallway Eric was still sitting in the chair with gun on lap. His back straightened at their sudden appearance, and Klementina signalled with her hand for him to stay seated before wrapping her arms around John. The embrace didn’t last long but there was an emotional tension in the way she squeezed him close, a tension that was finished with a soft kiss on the edge of his cheek.
“Time is never more beautiful then when it dances forward,” she whispered, “and never more heartbreaking than when it’s beautiful.”
Before he had the chance to reply she ran a finger along his chin then disappeared back into the bedroom. Eric, meanwhile, simply shrugged his shoulders and pointed back down the hallway. “You’ve got visitors,” he said.
John turned to find Aaron and Vanessa waiting for him and, with a nod of thanks to Eric, made his way towards them.
“Clock’s ticking,” Aaron declared as he directed them both back through the main room still abuzz with activity. “Reports are starting to come in thick and fast. A good handful of buildings have been hit along the edges of the city and they’re about to shut down some of the arterial roads, so you need to be moving quickly. I’ve sorted a vehicle out that’s got the horsepower you need in a shell that should keep you off the radar.”
“That’s all well and good, but what exactly happens from here?” John asked.
“You get back to the city as best you can, grab whatever you need and be ready for the call to board the buses. Then… then we bunker down and get ready for the storm of all storms, and if we live, if we survive, we dust ourselves off and get ready for the real fun.” He stopped for a moment to grin down at Vanessa. “More importantly, I’ve promised our race car driver here a drink once we’re tucked in.”
“Considering the weather forecast,” Vanessa joked, “you better make sure the bottle’s full.”
Abyss Jumpers dashed between desks and scanned the various monitors as Aaron brought them to the front door and then out into the humid sunshine. With synchronised movements they all slid on their shades to observe the surroundings of what could have been a normal summer’s day, were it not for the distant billows of smoke creeping up into the separating clouds and the background sound of sirens wailing.
“It’s over here,” Aaron said as he stepped through manicured hedges to the neighbouring drive way. John looked around and found a strange sense of unease at the seemingly empty street, especially considering what was happing in the house he had just stepped out of.
Whatever was happening in this house he wasn’t about to find out because the garage door began to rise and reveal their ticket back to the city, a sleek looking European machine that wouldn’t look out of place as part of a government fleet. Aaron reached out and started the engine remotely then handed the keys to Vanessa.
“The onboard computer’s already been programmed for the best route based on damage reports and cop locations,” he said confidently. “The tags are clean so as long as you don’t draw attention to yourself you should be okay, but you’re still gonna need eyes in the back of your head.” He gently brushed Vanessa’s shoulder then turned to shake John’s hand. “What you both did today, it won’t be forgotten. Now get back safe, and I’ll see you underground.”
“Tell Joey he earned his tattoo,” John grinned. “As for me, I’m not so sure my passport’s worth holding onto anymore.”
“If it makes you feel any better I can stamp it for you in the bunker.”
“Okay gentlemen,” Vanessa interrupted while sliding behind the wheel, “I’m not usually one to get in the way of male bonding we need to get this show on the road.”
“See ya soon mate,” John promised.
A tension thick with bristling electricity quickly joined forces with the inside heat of the car. Vanessa blasted the air conditioner as high as it would go then ran her hands along the wheel to shape up the new machine. The engine was nice and quiet, but there was no denying the power beneath her feet as she steered out onto the road.
“You think we’ll make it back to the city?” John asked, his eyes fixed with worry at the scattered and spiralling twists of smoke reaching across the horizon.
“Oh we’ll make it back to the city alright, least if I have anything to do with it.” There was a hint of her usual melody, but sunglasses did little to hide an expression steeled with fear soaked determination. “The real question is, what are we making it back to?”
Chapter 32
The glowing red shade of the office was tinged with an electric blue that spilled from six monitors on the wall, each a silent witness to a different floor of the facility and each a portal into simmering chaos. Visibly distressed staff, scientists and technicians that Rodney knew so well were being ushered one by one into elevators by agents in uniforms he hadn’t seen before, all black except for startling purple collars that seemed to glitter beneath the lights, but then it could have just been the screens. As unsettling as the digital kaleidoscope was, the bottom right display was the reason the back of his throat was tight enough to crush glass. Considering for the moment the screen was blank, things weren’t exactly going to get better.
In his right hand was a surgically sharp edged scalpel. The silver handle reflected the warm red of the room as he nervously scraped the tip along the inside of his fingers one by one, the pressure just enough that the skin remained unbroken. It was odd because he couldn’t remember picking it up, but then the memory lapse didn’t matter too much. The edge of the blade was a small distraction for his growing anxiety and created the illusion that he had control of something, even if it was a tiny thing. The illusion didn’t last long though, because the blue of the screen came alive with movement, and before he knew what he was doing there was a sudden sting as the blade sliced open the skin of his thumb.
Three men were slowly but most surely heading down the hallway towards the office door. The two in the rear wore matching black uniforms, while the tall figure in front with broad shoulders appeared to be draped in a long, silver jacket that could pass for a cape. Though each stride was one of purpose and determination, Rodney found himself transfixed on the thick cane that the impending visitor carried. The security monitor broadcast no sound, but it was obvious that each stab down onto the floor carried a simmering threat of power.
He attempted to swallow one last time but tasted only crushed glass. As a neuroscientist and behavioural specialist he was more than aware of the growing symptoms of anxiety, and so took several deep breaths to push back down the physical responses that threatened to cloud his thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to be a victim of biology. He dropped the scalpel back onto the desk and leaned into his chair as the digital sounds of security clearance sent the door sliding open.
And then, there he was. Tall but not overbearingly so, and powerfully built in a strangely understated way. His long silver jacket shimmered red and blue in the office ambience. As he stood and examined the surroundings, Rodney felt his breath quicken.
The visitor had neatly cut blonde hair and water soaked blue eyes, but his handsomely chiselled face was shockingly tainted with an endless array of razor thin cuts, red lines that had pierced the skin in all manner of directions, crisscrossing in chaotic patterns and each in various stages of recovery. The only other visible part of his body, his large and smooth hands, revealed small and intricate tattoos of complex geometrical shapes, each carved in black ink so that only tiny segments of untouched skin could be seen.
“So you’re Sam,” Rodney remarked with an attempt to break the tension infused ice.
“Samael to be accurate,” the visitor confirmed politely, “but sure, Sam if it makes you more comfortable.”
“Something tells me comfort has nothing to do with this visit.”
“That depends,” Samael offered with a shrug of his shoulders. “You’d be surprised at what we can learn to be accepted as comfortable.” Ever so softly he tapped his fingers along the wooden spine of the cane. “There’s a bit of a panic in the city as I’m sure you know, hence the dent in my arrival time. I guess big rocks falling from the sky has that effect on people.”
Rodney steadied his breathing and willed his heart to slow down. “We both know there’s more on the way, so let’s get straight down to business shall we? Simple things, like why they’ve sent you and what the hell is going on with my staff?”
The words came out a little more bitter than planned, but if Samael felt disrespected in any way he was keeping it well hidden. His only movement was a slight lift of the eyebrows, causing the myriad of blood lines to squeeze closer together.
“I was hoping we could learn a little bit about each other but business is business I suppose.” His fingers tapped the cane a little harder now. “Approximately three hours ago activation of my clearance was confirmed. In a nutshell? This entire facility, and everything in it, is under my control now. There’s other responsibilities of course, but best to stick to what’s important to you.”
“Three hours ago I’d already received the order to shut it down so…”
“You’re absolutely right,” Samael broke in with a quick and sharp laugh. “And yet here I am, sitting right here with you in a facility that is very much functional.” He sliced through the air with his left hand to dismiss the statement. “Don’t worry, I know it’s easy to bark from the top when barking is all you’re good at. If you ask me your work here has been excellent. Hell, you and your team came as close as we could have hoped all things considered, and the data you’ve put together will be well used I can assure you.” He brought the cane forward as if to invite closer inspection. “It’s other matters that interest me more.”
Rodney turned to the monitors and watched as final staff members on two remaining floors were ushered into the elevators. Not for the first time he wondered just where the hell they were going, and as he turned to face the strange man in the silver coat he quietly hoped again that it was up to the surface of the city.
“I’m all ears,” he said as calmly as possible.
“I’ll be needing more than ears,” Samael assured him. “Tell me what we know about Doctor Hendrix.”
“Considering your recent promotion I’ll have to assume you know about as much as I do. If it’s his location you’re after, I’m afraid you’re shit out of luck.”
“Any luck meant for me was returned to sender the second my bleeding head tore through my mother’s cunt.” The jolting admission sliced through the air like the tail of a whip as the impact of the cane on the tiles made a sharp cracking sound. “By the time I took my first breath she was a broken corpse on a cold steel table, so suggesting I’m out of luck is no different to telling me the sun’s hot. It doesn’t change anything.” With a stage like intensity he tilted his head forward and flashed a brief smile that revealed perfectly white teeth. “I know things were arranged for a certain Doctor Garland to infiltrate the Hallucigenia Project, just as I know Hendrix is inside it somewhere.”
“Then you know it was never going to be easy to get to him,” Rodney offered, “and it hasn’t been. We know he’s deep in the Project, we just don’t know where.”
“And what about Doctor Garland?” Samael asked politely. “I expected to introduce myself.”
Rodney squirmed slightly, figuring his imminent lie was destined to fail. “She’s supposed to be here but…”
“She’s supposed to be here but…” Samael mocked with a childish voice and head bobbing left to right before coming deadly still. “I get it. No big deal. A quick whisper in the ear, a few ashen books and poof! No more doctor. All that guilt on your shoulders pushing down onto the bones and straining muscles and maybe, just maybe, letting one go will bring a moment of relief.” He used the cane to roll his chair closer. “So tell me, did her fiery performance wash away those sins of yours?”
Rodney narrowed his eyes and studied the cuts on Samael’s face as though it were some newfound art form. How had he done it, he wondered? Was it some sickening razor blade inspired calendar of some kind, each carving a testament to another day on Earth? Or was it left over remnants of secret pleasures that were just a hint of his true decorations? It was hard to imagine a sane man writhing and laughing at his own flesh opening, harder still to know this man was, until just moments ago, a government secret.
For the first time since the guest had arrived, Rodney managed a smile. “We’re human,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, “sin’s just part of the package and it doesn’t wipe away so easy. What we did here in this facility had nothing to do with right or wrong, good or evil. It was one moment in time trying to understand the next moment, the living breathing pulse of evolution digging deeper into the puzzle.” Cautiously he pointed a finger at Samael’s face. “It can drive a man mad to have an itch you can’t scratch.”
Samael shifted his chair back a little. His face remained completely expressionless as he gently raised the cane to lower Rodney’s finger then dropped it back to the ground.
“It can drive a man mad to hide from the itch that’s deep down inside,” he sneered. “You? You only look for what you hope’s there. Me?” He tapped a tattooed finger against the edge of his head. “I look for what’s actually there. That means seeing things that aren’t meant to be seen, or learning things that were made for no man.” His eyebrows lifted and attention turned to a monitor that flickered with a new camera source coming online. “I guess the roundup is just about complete.”
Rodney followed his gaze and felt his throat pull even tighter than it already was. Where before the feed had displayed the large common room that had been a refuge for so many sleepless nights, it now beamed silent movement from the morgue. As far as a cold storage room for the lifeless it was bigger than most thanks to the countless autopsies that had been performed in the name of science, but as Rodney watched the entirety of his staff stand shoulder to shoulder with utter confusion at what might be happening, it no longer seemed so big.
“Jesus Chris Sam,” he said through clenched teeth, “what the hell are they doing down there? They’re supposed to be heading back above ground.”
“To do what exactly?” Samael laughed. “Each and every one of them hold nothing for the city but fear, and we both know how fear squeezes out truths that shouldn’t be told.”
“None of that matters though does it?” Rodney shook his head with resignation. “What’s coming is coming and there’s no hiding it, so you’re wasting your time locking up a science and medical division to try and keep some bullshit secret close to your chest.”
“Who said anything about locking them up?” Samael asked as though finding the question laughable. “Again looking for what you hope is there, not what is there. Here we go,” he said while pointing his cane to the screen, “the show’s about to begin.”
And he was right. The camera was positioned high in the corner and looked down along the length of the morgue, only with everyone crammed in there were no stainless steel tables or medical trolleys to be seen. What Rodney could see, as he turned and leaned forward with a growing terror, were the backs of the uniformed agents that formed a line across the entrance door. Equally visible were the tips of the guns that were held aga
inst their chest in a military like fashion.
The office fell as silent as the monitor. Though Rodney didn’t dare shift his eyes away he could feel Samael watching him, could smell excitement squeezing through ink stained pores, and it was bitter and rancid. Trying to ignore the subtle stench he searched the familiar faces on the screen and found confusion and fear. Some looked up to the camera in hope that someone would realise a mistake had been made, but most stood stunned before the strangers with guns.
Suddenly he saw Farah, the young Iranian lady brought in for her coding wizardry and the ability to calm even the worst temper flares in the facility, reach out her arms and hands in a defensive hold. The tips of her fingers started to shake.
“The problem with evolution,” Samael said softly, “is that which drives the vessel cares not for the vessel.”
His words seemed to echo like a call from deep in a forest, and all Rodney could do was clutch the chair as the silent horror show began. The uniformed agents took a step back and opened fire, unleashing death fed lead into his colleagues as though they were nothing more than rats in a corner. There was a quick surge forward to escape as reality came stinging into their flesh and bone, but the bullets were too fast and the damage too devastating. It was a surrealistic performance of silent screams and broken bodies falling to the floor like puppets on the end of suddenly severed strings, and it was over in less than a minute.
With every fibre of his being Rodney wanted to stand and shout, wanted to grab Samael by the fucking throat and demand him to give the order to stop, but it was too late and he knew it. Death had swept through the morgue with a vengeance that left no stone unturned or heart beating. He leaned forward and covered his face, forced to acknowledge his worst fears had come to life.
When he finally looked up all the screens were blank. Arteries pulsed along the edge of his neck. It had come to this. All the research and hard work that had pushed through day and night to attempt to crack the puzzle of the machine, a machine whose blueprint had waited dormant in human DNA for so very long, now ran deep red along a tiled floor he could no longer see. There was no point trying to process it. In a matter of moments, he knew, there would be answers or an eternal absence of anything.
The Hallucigenia Project Page 59