The Hallucigenia Project

by Darren Kasenkow

  The aircraft landed and engines disengaged, leaving only the sound of the internal pressure rushing to equilibrium. Samael watched as Roman stood with a fresh surge of energy and began the task of opening the airlock on the floor at the rear of the cabin then, with cane in hand and fresh scars beginning to scab, he manoeuvred down the ladder, stepped onto the freshly scraped soil and breathed in the mountain air. It smelled, he thought, like filthy water.

  Moving out from under the craft he was forced to shield his eyes from the glare of bright lights and metal. Surrounded by mountainous peaks, the plateau was high above sea level and was the size of a city block. Eight military jets sat on the moist earth at the ready, surrounded with transport vehicles for both land and water that seemed to snarl from the flood lit shadows. Armed soldiers in black military uniforms covered the area like bull ants protecting a nest, and all held their tongue as Samael and Roman marched towards a concrete and steel cavern entrance set where the plateau met the mountain.

  “Check the status of all satellites and network communications,” Samael demanded. “Use whatever’s still online to do a final sweep for signals then ensure everything is where it should be. Something tells me the new day is going to end in a spectacular fashion.”

  “I’ll update you shortly,” Roman assured him as he broke away and headed for a well lit tunnel to the left.

  They were in a dome like structure, with multi levelled steel scaffolding buried into the rocky walls of the mountain that lead to various doorways and tunnels and a large archway with a heavy, decorative wooden door straight ahead. The air was cold and artificial and seemed to bite the inside of Samael’s lungs as he pushed his way through to the office he had made his own. He wasn’t much one for emotions, but there was no denying the subtle sense of pleasure that arose at the sight of his collection.

  It was a long, large room with a high ceiling of rock that barely managed to reflect the green and blue ambience. The rear wall was packed earth held firm with thick steel frames, an almost artistic backdrop for the large wooden desk that was the only furniture besides a few high backed chairs.

  But that wasn’t the source of the pleasure.

  No, that came from the walls either side, though they weren’t so much walls as they were enormous tanks of green hued liquid with spotless glass that shone so majestically thanks to floor mounted lights, and there suspended in the liquid like giant tendrils caught in green amber lay his collection.

  At first glance one might have mistaken the floating forms for some sort of jellyfish like sea creature, thanks to a bulbous crown of pink and grey flesh that seemed to grow long, vein like strands of varying thickness that spindled down several feet with offshoots branching to the left and right. The floating forms were creatures if one were to be accurate, but not the type of creature that when alive would feed, fight and fuck beneath the water. Closer inspection would reveal that the slippery structures were actually human nervous systems, and without the bones, veins and arteries to distort the biological engineering it was easy to imagine them as some sort of alien like remains from a planet far, far away.

  Counting both tanks there were thirteen systems in the chemically treated liquid and one of them was being quietly studied by Colonel Boucher, the man with the gruff voice from the digital conference in the hotel. His hands were clasped behind his back and although he was more than aware of Samael’s entry he kept his nose pointed at the glass and voice silent.

  Samael, meanwhile, headed for his desk with a leisurely pace as he admired the electric conduits of those who had once been horrific killers and ruthless leaders. There was no reason hasten the end of the quiet, but it came none the less as he took his seat.

  “Our aircrafts are prepped and pilots on standby,” Boucher announced with his back still to the room. “Sixty seconds is all that it’ll take to become operational but nothing happens until I give the word so I need to be sure our agreement stands.” His hands dropped and he turned from the floating tendrils to glare at Samael. “When the girl is removed and you’ve secured the upload it’s our team that’ll be the first to make the jump.”

  “I’m surprised there’s even a concern,” Samael responded with a strained smile that creased the lines across his face. “I suspect it’s a habit that accompanies negotiations from a position like yours, but there’s no place for it here. Look around. You might as well ask to aim after the bullet has left the chamber.” The smile slipped away and the lines straightened. “Your team will make the jump I assure you. After all, there’s no point ruling the new world blind.”

  Boucher considered the assurance with visible concentration and then tapped a message into a small tablet that he produced from his jacket pocket. Resignation crept into his eyes as he joined Samael at the desk, the kind that came with decisions that could never be undone.

  “It’s done,” he said quietly.

  “Death arrives regardless,” Samael suggested, “but this will assure a clean slate to work with. For a new race to rise we have no need for the old.”

  “New race…” Boucher mumbled to himself, eyes fixed on his host as dark thoughts raced through his mind. He opened his mouth to speak but hesitation kept it still for several heartbeats, and he wasn’t the kind of man who indulged in hesitations.

  “I wear this uniform because I do what’s required and I know only what’s needed to know,” he continued, “a bullet in the chamber I guess you could say with no considerations for the target. I don’t understand the technical bullshit about connecting brains with computers and taking over the world once the smoke has cleared, and quite frankly I don’t need to. Power and control is a motivation as old as time itself.” He pointed at the cane resting on the desk. “What interests me is your fascination with pine cones. You’re never without that stick of yours and the art work on the desk panel hasn’t escaped me.”

  To emphasize his point he tapped a finger against the front of the desk. As far as furniture went it was as extravagant as could be, but in a cave like room with an ambience set by floating nervous systems the impact was muted somewhat. It was wide enough to double as a banquet table with three panels set into the front polished timber, each emblazoned with a figure head in the centre of crossing staffs. On the left panel that Boucher gently tapped the staffs were crowned with large pine cones.

  “I’m surprised,” Samael admitted, “for a man who speaks of timeless power I thought you would find only the familiar.”

  “I guess it slipped by me, though I do remember a conference at the Vatican and being amused by the large statue. Didn’t seem to fit, if you know what I mean.”

  “Ah yes, the hand work of one Publius Salvius. Funny you should mention it.”

  “Why’s that?” Boucher asked.

  “A long lost blood relative I guess you could say.” Samael suddenly leaned forward and drummed his hands against the desk as though about to break into song, then slammed them still and smiled. “This here was exceptionally tricky to find, and as for being authentic or not well, that’s long buried beneath facts, lies and exaggerations. When it comes to Hitler’s desk though, what else can be expected?”

  Boucher studied the structure once again, only this time with a restrained awe. If what Samael had said was true then against all possible odds the last remnants of night had become even more surreal.

  “We all have our own tastes,” he said.

  “If therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, the whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness…” Samael winked and licked the edges of his lips. “It’s not until you strip away the flesh and bone that the truth is revealed, electricity emerging in time and space to search the realm for the ultimate set of instructions.” He tapped the edge of his scarred temple. “The true and single eye sits in here.” Then he used two fingers to pull the skin down beneath his eyes. “These see only the reflections of light
and the forms of the temporary, physical tricks of electrical bonds. The single eye on the other hand, the little gland buried deep in a place that receives no light? Well… open wide and you just might see the blueprint for eternity.”

  Boucher stared across the desk with a reserved sense of shock dripping with fragments of pity.

  “I appreciate the insight,” he said.

  “So,” Samael continued with a distinct change in his voice, “you’ve issued the command. The pilots are painting the night and we’re nice and cosy to wait for the greatest show on Earth.”

  “Then I should give you some privacy and head to the control room,” Boucher replied, now very eager to make an exit.

  “Of course, but I want to show you something before you go.” Samael opened a drawer and produced what looked like an antique handgun. “I’m told this was held by a very powerful man in the moments before he died, but I’m almost certain it’s a fake and have often wondered if it even works.” His eyes narrowed as he licked his lips once again, and then as casually as can be he aimed and fired. Boucher’s face tore open in an instant, bringing a mischievous smile to Samael’s face. “Now I know.”

  Boucher’s head was slumped down and issuing strained gurgling noises as Samael jumped from his chair and proceeded to cut away the commander’s uniform. Next he rolled his naked weight onto the floor, revelling in the way the gasping sounds had become more frantic. With scalpel in hand and joy in his heart, it took less than twenty minutes to remove the skin with targeted slices that ensured minimal disruption. He had no use for this nervous system or the guts and bones that sent putrid wisps of steam rising into the air, but the skin was a different matter. Pinned up against the back wall it would be the perfect addition to his quiet space because, after all, comfort should always play a part in design.

  Chapter 37

  Wake up.

  The little boy twitched on the ground as blood seeped from his nose and trickled along cheeks that looked as though they belonged to a doll. Pain forced his red eyes wide open and burned with a bitter declaration of blame.

  Wake up.

  The slithering black of demons pushed out from the tiles with gnashing teeth and steaming tails, hissing noises changing to the sick sound of tearing clothes and flesh as they began to feast on the boy piece by piece. He cried and screamed and thrashed and bucked, but still he stared back with those red eyes that were now boiling with rage.

  Open your eyes.

  John jerked awake to find Rebecca kneeling beside him. A sharp stabbing pain pulsed at the back of his eyes and an abundance of sweat had pasted his shirt to his skin. Candice was still asleep with her head pressed against his chest, while draped across their feet Bobbie’s ears lifted.

  “You don’t look so good,” Rebecca whispered.

  “That’s stating the obvious,” he replied as his vision began to clear.

  “Something’s come up. I need you to come with me.”

  “What’s happened?” The nightmare’s grip was weakening and he could see the concern etched across her face, promising perhaps a new nightmare. “Don’t tell me…”

  Rebecca shook her head. “If you mean the sky cracking open you don’t have to worry just yet. Things will make sense soon enough.”

  John sucked in a deep breath as Candice began to stir. She glanced around the room until the confusion of her surroundings eased and the memories came back. The wings of the dragon still bristled purple and the window to the sea seemed to dance as small fish darted amongst the shifting currents.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  “Just before dawn,” Rebecca confirmed.

  John kissed the top of her head and eased out from under the blanket. “I need you to stay here with Bobbie. I don’t know what’s going on, but I shouldn’t be too long.”

  “Wait a second, should I be worried?”

  “It’s okay,” Rebecca answered, “we’ll just be in the next room. Try and get a little more rest for now.”

  Candice rubbed her eyes and rolled her neck. “Exhaustion knocked me out but I wouldn’t exactly call it rest.”

  John leaned down and kissed her one last time before following Rebecca as she headed for the door by Hendrix’s desk. His head seemed to feel worse now that he was on his feet and his hand instinctively tapped his pocket even though he knew the remedy wasn’t there. As far as early mornings went, it wasn’t a good start.

  “I wish we had a little more time to get to know each other,” Rebecca said quietly as she reached the door. “You’re not exactly cut from common cloth, but then I already knew that.”

  “There might be time yet,” John answered, a little confused at what she’d said.

  “There’s hope I guess.”

  Together they stepped into the room with cluttered desks and coffee stained computers. Obviously expecting them, Hendrix raised a hand over his shoulder but kept his back to them as he stared down into a microscope.

  “So what exactly is happening here?” John asked.

  “Someone wants to speak with you,” Rebecca replied. “There’s nothing left of the networks so we’ll be using one of our satellites, which means we’ve only got a small window. They’ll be monitoring for any signal activity but if we keep it under ninety seconds the risk shouldn’t be too high.”

  “I guess it’ll be a short conversation.”

  “Take a seat.” She pointed to a wooden chair in the corner. “It’s not exactly a recliner but it’ll do.”

  John sat down and glanced up at the sealed hatch on the roof that led to the ladder and tried to imagine what the sky might look like at dawn high above. Down here it all felt like some slowed down dream that wouldn’t let go, with the real world a million miles away.

  Anxiety was beginning to cut into his soul as his blood adjusted to the absence of his helper. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and his shirt was still wet to the touch.

  “I gotta be honest right now,” he said with a hint of concern, “none of this is exactly convincing me I’m actually awake.”

  “Hold that thought.”

  Hold it? he thought. I couldn’t let go if I tried. Beginning to worry he really was still asleep, he tried to get comfortable and watched as Hendrix stepped back from the microscope and smiled back at him.

  “The trick isn’t knowing if you’re awake or dreaming,” he said, “the trick is knowing who it is that can traverse both realms. Who you are is far more than mere memories and matter.”

  “I appreciate the philosophy doc but I don’t think that helped too much.” John winced as another hammer hit thumped behind his eyes. “Come to think of it, I’d never dream a headache like this.”

  Rebecca reached down and opened a wooden box sitting on the desk. With gentle hands she lifted out the smooth chrome device and stepped up to the chair. John studied the curves and suddenly realised she planned to place it on his head. In an instant his anxiety accelerated, and with it the temptation to march straight back out the room.

  “Hang on a second,” he stammered, “when you said someone wanted to chat I assumed you meant a satellite phone. That thing in your hand, that’s not what they look like.”

  “It’s going to be just fine,” Rebecca assured him. “I promise you, there’s no reason for that worry in your eyes.” She leaned down and held him tight in a warm embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered into his ear.

  “Thank me?” he said with growing confusion. “Thank me for what?”

  “For trying to save my nephew.”

  John’s mouth fell open as the reality of the statement shook his fragmented thoughts. If what she said was true then that could only mean…

  “Hold tight,” she declared, ripping him back into the moment, “you’re about to discover a new eye.”

  The chromed steel of the device was surprisingly warm as it pushed down onto the top of his head. Rebecca stepped back while Hendrix crossed his arms with anticipation at what might happen, causing John’s anxiety
to rise higher even though nothing seemed to be happening. There might have been a slight tingle where the device touched his skin, but otherwise he was still sitting on the chair covered in his own sweat. Maybe, he thought, it wasn’t going to work. Maybe communications had come to an end.

  Something on the wall caught his eye. It was a small sparkling light that held no real shape and appeared to be moving in slow circles. Soon there was another one, and then another and another until the wall seemed alive with pulsing white lights.

  He blinked several times, opened his mouth to ask what they were and found speech impossible. He looked across to Rebecca and found her smiling down at him with a knowing in her eye as the back of his head began to feel heavy, almost as if someone were trying to push it down. Each breath became a tornado of sound deep in his ears and each heartbeat an explosion across his body. The sparkling lights began to swirl away from the walls and zip through the air before a deep shadow crept across the room engulfing all in its wake.

  In an instant there was darkness, and with the darkness came silence. He had entered a void that was as peaceful as he could have ever imagined, a void where not a single demon stirred and memories turned to dust. The barely glowing ember that marked his being could have happily floated in the nothing forever. But forever wasn’t to be.

  His mind erupted with the birth of infinite colours amidst sounds and sensations, a stimulatory overload that made no sense until shifting shapes began to merge and sounds began to process. Something thick yet soft cushioned the back of his legs. He looked down and erupted into a child like laughter at the dawning of what he found.

  Golden yellow and bigger than an elephant, Bobbie was marching forward with confident steps and he was perched on top riding him! As if sensing the sudden realisation, Bobbie brought a stop to his gigantic paws and turned back to peer at John with a twinkle in his eye, only the twinkle was a small spiral galaxy of warm blues and sunset pinks.