Ghost of a Smile g-2

by Simon R. Green

  By that time, they were all inside Room Seven, taking up most of the available space. The room had been trashed. The furniture and fittings had been smashed and torn apart. The carpet on the floor had been ripped and rucked up, as though trampled by wild animals. The computer had been beaten into small pieces and the pieces scattered everywhere.

  “That’s not easy to do,” said Melody. “Somebody really had a grudge against this machine.”

  Everyone else was looking at the long claw marks gouged deep into the far wall. Blood was splashed thickly across walls and the ceiling. It hadn’t been dried long. Great, heavy, dark red swatches of blood, and one oversized bloody handprint on the inside of the door. JC put his hand beside it, and the print was almost twice as large.

  “This is where it all started,” he said finally. “The first unexpected reaction to the drug, perhaps? Did the test subject panic when the bad symptoms began? Did he cry out for help that never came and so had to smash his way out?”

  “Was that his voice we heard?” said Melody. “Or was it someone who wanted us to see what someone else was hiding?”

  “But look at the claw marks!” said Happy. “The size of them, and the depth of the grooves… think of the strength needed to do that much damage. And smell the animal stench in here! What did the Zarathustra drug do to the poor bastard?”

  “Not the kind of superhuman change his minders were expecting, certainly,” said JC. He turned abruptly to Kim. “What do you see here? I need to know what you see because the dead often see things that are hidden from the living.”

  “Of course,” said Kim, calmly. “Because the living couldn’t cope.” She looked around, slowly. “I can’t see whoever it was used to live here. It’s as though all traces have been wiped clean, scoured out by the sheer intensity of what happened. No stone tape, no psychic imprinting… the occurrence was too powerful for that… But I am feeling things. Emotions. Strong, supercharged, impossibly extreme emotions, saturating the aether.”

  Melody sniffed. “She’s making it up. No such thing as aether.”

  “Lot you know, girl geek,” said Kim. “Emotions… but not human emotions.”

  “Animal?” said JC.

  “No. More than human,” said Kim. “I can feel them, but I can’t understand them, or describe how they make me feel. It’s like listening to a thunderstorm that’s also a name that’s also a howl of rage and horror and enlightenment. Emotions so big, so complicated.. . they frighten me, JC.”

  Happy was concentrating so hard his face was one big scowl, trying to get some feel, some sense of what Kim was experiencing, but it eluded him.

  “I’m getting a word, JC,” he said finally. “Yes, a word. Repeated over and over. One word. ReSet.”

  And then his gaze snapped past JC, caught by something behind him. Happy cried out, and pointed urgently with a quivering hand. Everyone spun round, to stare at the cracked mirror on the wall behind them. They all looked hard, but all they saw were their own startled reflections.

  “What is it, Happy?” said JC. “What did you see?”

  “There was a face!” Happy’s face was grey, wet with sudden sweat. “There was a face in the mirror, and it wasn’t one of us!”

  They all looked again, but the reflection was still stubbornly only them.

  “It’s gone now,” said Happy. “But it was there. A face. Watching us!”

  “All right,” said JC. “I believe you. What kind of face?”

  “I don’t know,” said Happy. He looked confused, like an overtired child. “It wasn’t human… not really. A face, like a human face, but… more so. It was like God looking out of the mirror, and judging us.” He shook his head. “I can remember seeing it, but I can’t remember what it looked like any more. As though my mind can’t… hold on to it.”

  JC nodded slowly. For all his nervous talk, Happy was a veteran of many cases, and there wasn’t much that could genuinely shake him any more. Melody moved in close beside Happy, calming him with her presence.

  “ReSet?” said JC. “You’re sure about that?”

  “Oh yes,” said Happy. “I heard it. Clear as a bell.”

  Then the sounds started. They all looked round sharply as they heard running feet. A great many people, all heading down the corridor, towards Room Seven. JC darted out of the room, then stopped as he saw that the corridor was empty. The sounds grew louder and more urgent, and there were voices, too, shouting and crying out, voices overlapping and drowning each other out. The sounds reached the doorway and stopped abruptly.

  A new Voice filled the room, a huge, overpowering Voice, like God crying out from a mountaintop-or a cross.

  Help me! Somebody, help me! What’s happening to me?

  A Voice that was both more and less than human, full of over- and undertones, too subtle for the human mind to comprehend. It shuddered through flesh and bone, shaking them with a deep atavistic terror. Even Kim cried out. She might be dead, but she was still human. And the Voice wasn’t.

  And then the Voice was gone, and everything was still and quiet again.

  “Okay,” said JC, shakily. “That bit out in the corridor was a stone tape, extreme events imprinting themselves on the surroundings, and playing back… but the Voice… was a hell of a lot more than that. Something really bad happened in here.”

  “Or started here,” said Melody. “Whatever it was, it isn’t finished yet. We need to go up to the next floor, to the science labs, and get some answers.”

  “I’m not sure I want to know,” said Happy. “They might have gone looking for a supersoldier, but I think they ended up with a lot more than they bargained for.”

  FOUR

  SCALPEL, SCALPEL, SHINING BRIGHT

  They went up the next set of stairs like a military unit. Taking their time, checking the corners and the shadows, listening hard for any hint of an attack. Kim went first, flitting silently up the stairs without touching them, out in front because of all of them she was the least in danger. You see? she said brightly. Being dead does have its advantages. JC went next, pushing forward because he always did, eager to get into the next interesting thing. Melody came next, bristling with caution, alert for the smallest noise or hint of danger, so she could do nasty things to it. And Happy brought up the rear because that was what he did best. He somehow managed to hold his peace until they were more than half-way up, but finally an urgent question forced its way out.

  “What, exactly, are we proposing to do if attacked?”

  “I have my machine pistol,” Melody said immediately.

  “Not actually noted for its use against things that are already dead,” said Happy.

  “Be of good cheer, my children,” said JC, not looking back. “I have many useful and really quite nasty and only borderline-illegal items tucked away about my person. I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  “It’s true,” Kim said solemnly. “He does.”

  “I can’t believe we’re still going on,” Happy said miserably. “We’re ghost finders! This is a job for the psychic commandos of the SAS!”

  “Well, for mass destruction, general bloodshed, and scorched-earth policies, they do have their uses,” said JC. “But I think even they would admit that subtlety is not their favoured suit. There is a mystery here, questions that need answering, secrets that must be dug up, and that is what we do best. You are, of course, free to walk away at any time, Happy. But you know the rules-you walk out on an active investigation, and your time with the Institute is over.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” growled Happy.

  “You make it sound like we volunteered to be ghost finders,” said Melody.

  “Didn’t you?” JC said innocently. “I positively jumped at the chance.”

  “Yes, but you’re weird,” said Happy. He looked back down the stairs. “I’m pretty sure that leaving is no longer a viable option.. . Whatever’s in here with us, it won’t give up on us that easily. The higher we go, the more doors close behind
us. We are climbing up into the belly of the beast…”

  “Then try not to think too much about the eventual way out,” JC said briskly.

  They’d reached the next set of swing doors, giving out onto the next floor. Huddling together before the doors, they listened carefully, but all they could hear was their own massed breathing. The atmosphere was so still, it almost had a presence of its own. JC put his head right next to the door, straining for even the slightest sound or trace of movement. He bit his lower lip thoughtfully, straightened up, and looked back at Happy.

  “Can you sense anything?”

  “Not from out here,” said Happy. “I swear something in this building is interfering with my talent. And I mean deliberately, not as a side effect. Something is targeting me. All right, yes, I feel like that most of the time, but this time I have evidence. There’s a psychic weight in the atmosphere, an unnatural oppression… Trying to sense anything here is like listening for bird-song in the middle of a thunderstorm.”

  “A simple no would have sufficed,” murmured JC. “You’re sure it couldn’t be some kind of basic phenomenon, a result of the drug trials?”

  “No,” said Happy. “Something’s doing this to me.”

  “Or someone,” said Melody.

  “Oh right,” said Happy. “Thanks a whole bunch. Cheer me up, why don’t you?”

  “I have tried being cautious and sensible, and a fat lot of good it has done me,” announced JC. “I am therefore kicking that plan in the head and reverting to standard operating procedure.” He slammed through the doors and strode arrogantly onto the next floor, shouting “Anybody here? Anything weird and unnatural and quite probably illegal, make yourself known! We are here to solve mysteries, whether they like it or not, and dispense beatings to the ungodly!”

  “I really hate it when he does that,” said Melody, following JC in.

  “If he wants to be a target, let him,” growled Happy, bringing up the rear.

  “No-one ever holds the door open for me any more,” said Kim, ghosting through the closing doors.

  The whole of the second floor had been made over into one long science laboratory, with shining white walls and surfaces, and tables weighed down with impressive equipment, all of it stretching away into the distance. Fierce fluorescent lighting picked out every detail with almost painful clarity, with not a single shadow to be seen anywhere. The odd partition rose up here and there, presumably to close off the more dangerous procedures; but otherwise, everything was open to view. Work-benches, workstations, computers here there and everywhere, and equipment so complicated the eye seemed to slide right off it, unable to get a hold. Melody pressed forward, grinning widely and making cooing noises, her eyes sparkling as she took in the wonders before her.

  “This is fantastic! I mean, look at all this techy goodness! Some of this equipment is so advanced, even I can’t be sure what it is! This is way beyond state of the art, JC. I’ve only ever seen some of this stuff in really specialised trade magazines, usually in the We’re still running tests and crossing our fingers so don’t expect to see this anytime soon department. Available somewhen in the next decade, if you’re lucky, along with the flying cars and personal jet packs. Okay-once we are finished with this case, I get dibs on everything. We are hiring several trucks and taking it all with us. I claim salvage.”

  “I don’t think it works like that, Melody,” said JC.

  “It does if I say it does,” said Melody. “I have a gun. Finders keepers, losers can sue me. The scientists working here clearly didn’t appreciate what they had, or they wouldn’t have gone off and left it. Which means it’s all mine on moral grounds.” And then she stopped and looked about her thoughtfully. “Odd… Everything here appears to be still turned on, still working… as though people just stopped in the middle of what they were doing and walked away.”

  “See!” said Kim. “I told you! Exactly like the Marie Celeste!”

  “It’s not normal to be that enthusiastic all the time,” said Happy. “If I didn’t know she was dead, I’d swear she was on more pills than me.”

  “But where are the scientists?” said Melody. “Seriously, why would they just walk, leaving everything still running?”

  “Probably legged it once they saw the trial was going seriously wrong,” said Happy. “As any sane or sensible person would.”

  “Getting bored with that song,” said JC. “Not listening, not listening…”

  “They’re not gone,” said Kim. “They’re still here.” She nodded to herself, then realised the others were looking at her. She shrugged. “Just a feeling…”

  “Melody,” said JC. “Find another computer and bully some answers out of it. Starting with exactly what is ReSet, and what is it supposed to do? And, in particular, what were the researchers expecting or hoping to achieve with this latest drug trial?”

  Melody was already sitting before the nearest computer, which was still humming busily, its screen filled with an image of Stonehenge at dawn. She hammered away at the keyboard, and the computer made a series of important-sounding noises as it replaced the Stonehenge screen saver with a series of scientific files. Happy looked over her shoulder, was quickly baffled, and went back to wandering around the floor-length laboratory.

  “I’m picking up something, JC, but it’s hard to pin down anything distinct. There are a lot of emotions still hanging in the air. All of them quite definitely human. Fear, panic, anger, guilt, and a whole lot of get the hell out of here. Pretty much what you’d expect, for when everything’s gone tits up big-time. But it’s all… vague. Group feelings, rather than individual residues. Odd…”

  “Found something!” Kim said happily. “JC, come and look! I think it’s a company brochure.”

  She was trying to pick it up, but her insubstantial fingers kept passing through it and the desk beneath. She said a few baby swear words and stepped back. JC picked it up. He leafed through the heavy glossy pages, doing his best to ignore Kim hovering behind him.

  “This would appear to be an in-house organ,” he said. “Not meant for outside eyes. Basically, preaching to the company faithful. Lots of Good times are on their way, bonuses for all, your names will go down in history so work hard for the company good. All the usual corporate bullshit, to keep the little drones happy and hard at work. The bottom line seems to be that the company was promising a cure for pretty much everything, through the wonders of genetic manipulation. But, of course, not quite yet. All jam tomorrow…”

  “What?” said Happy. “Is this like when I was a kid, and my mum would make me take a pill with a spoonful of jam? I miss that.”

  “It’s from Through the Looking Glass,” said Kim. “You know-jam tomorrow, jam yesterday, but never jam today. You must know it-it’s a children’s classic by Lewis Carroll.”

  “I have a hard time believing Happy was ever a child,” said JC. “I think he was born nervous, sweaty, and trying to cadge free medications off the midwife.”

  “I never read any Carroll,” said Happy. “I did try, but it scared the crap out of me. I was a sensitive child.”

  JC flipped quickly through to the end of the brochure. “Reading between the lines, what I see here is mostly qualified apologies. The theories are sound, but they don’t have the funding to produce real results. Nothing here about ReSet.”

  “Found it!” said Melody. “Drop your linen and start your grinning, Auntie Melody has found the mother lode!” She beat a brief victory tattoo on the desk with both hands. “Not a single decent firewall in this thing. It’s almost like these files wanted to be found. Anyway, gather round while I dispense wisdom and wonders.”

  They all did so, and she continued, her attention still riveted on the monitor. “The scientists here at MSI stumbled onto something impressive while looking for something else, which is always the way. But you were right, JC, they had to go outside the company to get the extra funding to make it work. And if I’m reading this right, I mean absolute shed-loads of money
. The people on this floor needed some pretty expensive items, a lot of it quite blatantly illegal. And even immoral. We’re talking half a ton of human stem cells, and even more human organs. Along with equipment so cutting-edge they must have boosted it right out of the testing labs. Oh, this can’t be right, I’m looking at invoices for hundreds of human hearts, kidneys, livers, bone marrow… you name it, and it’s here somewhere. Where could they possibly have got it all?”

  “I’d guess third-world countries, executed Chinese prisoners, any number of civil-war zones,” said JC. “Trafficking in human organs is the second biggest illegal trade, right after human slavery. Sometimes I think we’re going after the wrong monsters. What were they doing with all those organs? And the stem cells?”

  “Strip-mining them for something specific they needed,” said Melody, frowning. “To make ReSet.”

  “Who exactly was it that supplied the extra funding?” said JC.

  “No names,” Melody said immediately. “Whoever it was went to a lot of trouble to remain strictly anonymous.”

  “Could it be Crowley Project?” said Happy. “I mean, this is the kind of nasty shit they’d get off on.”

  “None of the usual signifiers,” said Melody. “But everything was kept carefully compartmentalised, so most of the scientists didn’t know what the guy on the next bench was working on. It was all on a strictly need-to-know basis. Perhaps so no-one would know enough to feel properly guilty. This goes far beyond proprietary information, JC. We have to contact the Boss, get them to pry open the company records.” She stopped and looked up from the monitor. “You know, I have to wonder, even if we succeed, if we’ll be allowed to walk away from this case, knowing what we know.”

  “Welcome to my paranoid world,” said Happy. “Cold, isn’t it?”

  “We don’t know nearly enough yet,” said JC. “And anyway, I’d like to see MSI come up with anything that could stop us.”

  “Don’t say things like that!” said Happy. “You’ll be saying What could possibly go wrong next!”