Fallen Metropolis (Omnibus Edition)

by Matthew J. Barbeler

  Before the diners had a chance to run, at least a dozen spores had landed on each of them.

  Chapter Four

  Bill ran. Behind him, a stream of tiny black spores floated through the air. The spores themselves were incapable of thought, but they did respond to a certain set of stimuli. They could detect heat and if they found heat, they tried to move toward it. If they could not detect any heat source nearby they attempted to steer themselves toward updrafts of air. Updrafts allowed them to spread over greater distances, which increased their chance to land on something alive.

  The spores had no concept of time and space. They had no capacity to interpret the memories, wants or desires they carried within them. They sought out life, and life was warm. Life needed air. Life needed water. Where there was air, water and warmth, there was life. The spores themselves could not reproduce in water alone. They needed flesh. They sought out water anyway, because all life needs water. In the water they would wait until they found life and started to grow.

  Hundreds of spores landed on the cold surface of the road as Bill sprinted down the street. He needed a doctor. He felt like he needed his stomach pumped. The heavy weight of the greasy bacon weighed him down. After he sprinted for a couple of blocks he broke into a sweat. He coughed. His throat itched. His lungs burned. This sickly-sweet taste of syrup flooded his senses as he burped. He resisted the urge to vomit. He needed it. He needed the sugar. The salt. The protein.

  He doubled over as another wave of nausea hit him.

  Bill remembered when he snapped at Jimmy. He remembered wolfing down fistfuls of bacon like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Why had he done that? Had he apologized to Jimmy? He’d known Jimmy for five years and he’d never raised his voice at him before. Was he in shock? Had seeing his co-worker’s leg explode from a rogue meteorite impact finally sent him crazy?

  Or was it that meteorite? The steam. Maybe it had sent him crazy. Maybe there was something in that steam. Something that made him lose his mind.

  He remembered the black spores that poured out of his hand after the blister burst. They had come from his body. But how? Had his blood turned to ash in his veins?

  No.

  It wasn’t blood. Bill raised his shaking hand in front of his face. It shook not from pain, but panic. There were three purple lumps left on his palm, and one empty socket where the other had been. The inside of the socket ended in a small black point. Bill put his index finger into the socket and expected his hand to roar with pain. But there was no pain, only a sense of wrongness. When he pulled his finger out of the socket, no black residue remained on the tip of his finger. The black point wasn’t a cluster of lingering spores. It was a new hole that led back into his body. He stuck his finger into the hole again and pushed. His finger sunk deep into the flesh of his palm.

  Another wave of nausea hit him. A mouthful of sickly sweet breakfast mush forced its way out of his stomach. He spat it onto the sidewalk.

  The world swam around him. Bright yellow orbs of light danced in front of his eyes. He needed to sit down. He obeyed his body’s commands and sat next to the wad of sweet-scented puke on the sidewalk. He suddenly felt tired. He needed to sleep.

  His apartment was too far away. It would take him an hour to walk back there from the diner. So instead, he got back to his feet, steadied himself against a wall and looked for a quiet place to sleep. He found a safe place behind a virtual reality lounge and curled up next to a garbage can. Sleep took him immediately.

  As he slept, he dreamed. His dreams were black. He moved through a black void at terrible speed. The cold pressed in on him from all sides, but he did not freeze. There was something else at the edge of the dreamscape. It was all black, but there was someone or something in the dark with him. He tried to reach out to the other entity and felt it reach back. Even though he couldn’t communicate with it, the knowledge that he wasn’t alone on this terrible journey was enough to comfort him.

  He couldn’t recall what shifted the dream from blackness to the maintenance tunnels under the Metropolis Seven, but suddenly he ran on all fours through the dimly lit corridors of the sanitation plant. But he wasn’t himself. In front of him was a long black snout and the legs that pumped under him were covered in hair of black and gold. They ended in paws and wicked claws. He chased someone. His pack were behind him, and they gained on their prey inch by inch.

  Then his dreams were filled with the red of lustful hunger and uncontrollable rage. Desperate screams echoed through his mind. Bill started to lower his muzzle over the neck of the man sprawled out on the ground. The man choked through spurts of thick black blood. Bill wanted what the dog wanted. He wanted to finish the man off. Bill realized this a moment before the dog moved in for the kill and took control.

  ‘No, you can’t kill him!’ Bill commanded.

  The dog stopped. It pulled its muzzle away from the man’s neck and growled deeply. The man’s eyes shone with fear. The bloodlust subsided, and Bill became keenly away of the smells. The coppery tang of fresh blood, the salty sweat of the maintenance worker, and the overwhelming smell of fresh human shit in the man’s pants.

  Even though they were not able to communicate with language, Bill could feel the dog question him.

  ‘No killing!’ Bill thought to the dog, but then the dog was gone. Sleep took him once again. He did not dream of dogs again that night. He was back inside the cold blackness, but there were more things moving through the blackness with him. He tried to draw them together so he was surrounded by them. Protected by them. But none of them were strong enough yet to connect with him.

  Chapter Five

  Bill awoke from his dream and stepped into a nightmare. His eyes opened to see black flecked with white. A dog’s muzzle. Its lips were pulled back over its fangs in a silent snarl.

  Bill extended his shaking hand toward the dog and hoped that he was still asleep. The dog eyed him warily but made no move to attack. When he touched the dog’s neck a shiver of pleasure shook through it. Its snarl faded. It whimpered and curled itself into the curve of Bill’s body. Its tongue lolled out, exposing purple growths like those that were on Bill’s hand. Most of them had burst. The dog’s saliva teemed with black specks.

  This dog was the one from his dream. It was the one who had tried to take part of the meteorite away the night before. Bill noticed some dark spots in the golden parts of the mutt’s fur. Dried blood. This was the dog he had dreamt of, and the dog had found him. The dog knew they were connected just as Bill did. The meteorite had connected them, but how?

  “Good dog,” Bill said aloud. The sound of his voice made his pulse quicken. It had deepened through the night. His throat felt strange. Not itchy, but sticky. Gunked up. Like he’d gotten sick and skipped straight to a throat infection. But he didn’t feel sick. He felt wonderful. He took his comm unit out of his pocket and checked for any missed messages. There were two.

  The first was from his boss, Dom Rosk. Bill touched the message entry and a video of Dom began to play. He was sitting at his desk and looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

  ‘Hey, Bill. Look, I understand that what happened to Merrick last night was bad business of the highest order, but I’ve got some people asking questions about what happened to the meteorite. That MetroCorp rep Fiamingo wants to see it. He’s putting up some bullshit argument that they won’t accept the reports until they see the meteorite itself. I’m giving you the day off today though, buddy. Take some me time. Head along and see Merrick if you like. Just get back to me when you can about where the meteorite is. We need to know as soon as possible.’

  Bill closed the message. He couldn’t reveal location of the meteorite. It didn’t feel right. Not yet. Bill looked at the three intact purple blisters on his palm and decided that he would keep the location of the meteorite to himself for the moment.

  The second message was from Chief Medical Officer Kentaro. Bill touched the message and CMO Kentaro appeared on screen. He was an older man with an olive comp
lexion. He had short black hair that greyed at the temples. Dark circles hung under his eyes.

  ‘Bill, we need you to come in for examination. Immediately. Go to your closest medstation and present yourself. Tell them that CMO Kentaro sent you, and you’ll be seen to at once. We just need to check you over quickly, as proper protocols were not followed in the wake of the incident last night. Five minutes is all it will take. We need to see you immediately. We don’t want to have to come and pick you up.’

  Bill closed the message with a swipe of his index finger. Those last words were a threat. Bill knew it. Kentaro wanted to take him. Whatever happened to him in the night had turned him into a target.

  Bill ran his hand through the thick hair on the dog’s neck and a shiver passed over it. Kentaro would not take this gift from him.

  With a savagery that Bill didn’t know he possessed, he threw his comm unit against the ground. The glass shattered. The MetroCorp tracking chip was still inside, but it felt good to break the stupid little thing.

  ‘What if they’re already on their way to get you?’ an unfamiliar voice asked from inside Bill’s mind.

  Bill’s pulse quickened as adrenaline flooded his body. He rose to his feet as four more dogs rounded the corner of the alleyway. They stopped in front of him. All four looked up and met his eyes. At any other time, Bill would have thought their behavior was strange. A dog never held your eyes unless it was challenging you, but there was no challenge in their eyes. The dog with the speckled tongue was connected to Bill, and these other dogs, his pack, were also connected to him. But the connection did not run as deep. It would in time, but not yet. He could feel each of them on the edges of his awareness.

  “We need to move,” Bill said.

  Bill tried to think of a place to hide, deep within the ship. An image floated into his mind – it was a place hidden in the ventilation network. There were mattresses and couch cushions piled up in the corners of the room. It was safe, warm and hidden. It was somewhere Bill had never seen before, yet he could recall it as easily as any memory. The dogs were sharing an image of their den with him.

  A chill ran up Bill’s spine as he realized that the dog’s thoughts were bleeding over into his, just as his were into the dog. How else would they have known he sought somewhere to hide?

  What if he could connect with other people like he could connect with the dogs? Bill closed his eyes and floated through the black once more. There were others there that floated with him still. They were closer than before, but still out of reach.

  Bill had to hide. CMO Kentaro was looking for him, and Dom wanted the meteorite. But the dogs? The dogs didn’t have to hide. They could spread this gift for him while he stayed safe.

  "Stay with me," he said to the pack leader. The dog trotted behind him, then came to a stop by his side. He needed someone to guide him to their den. He didn’t know the way. If he was stopped by someone answering to Dom or Kentaro he needed a way to protect himself. The other four dogs waited to be told what to do.

  ‘Go. Spread this gift,’ Bill thought.

  ‘Bite?’ One of the dogs asked. Bill was shocked at the clarity of the thought.

  ‘No. We’re being hunted. If we bite, they will find us. Split up and pass this gift to anyone you can. If someone hurts you, do everything you can to escape,’ Bill thought back to the dogs.

  He felt their warm assent flow back to him. This truly was a gift. The barrier between interspecies communications was gone. How much easier would it be to understand others if you could share their thoughts? That would lead to true understanding. A harmony among all.

  ‘Run. Share what we have. If anyone goes after you, come home. But don’t let them follow you,’ Bill thought to the dogs.

  The four dogs walked out of the alley, toward the Residential District. The pack leader stayed by Bill’s side and looked up him.

  ‘Lead the way,’ he thought to the dog.

  The dog trotted out of the alleyway and Bill followed. Bill looked over at the diner and saw two MetroCorp patrol vehicles outside. The vehicles were empty, which meant that the officers were inside.

  Bill tried to find Jimmy with his mind like he could find the dog. Jimmy was there, but Bill could barely feel him on the outside of his awareness. He hadn’t connected to him yet, but one of the sanitation workers was. She was scared.

  They had come for her in the night. They had asked her all manner of questions about him.

  ‘Did Bill say anything about where the meteorite was? Did he look or act strangely? Did he look sick?’

  Bill tried to plunge into her mind to find her answers, but the connection was tenuous at best. She was still alive, so when the gift spread throughout her more thoroughly he could find her and figure out how much she told them.

  She could sense his connection to her. She screamed out for him to help her, but she had been taken somewhere outside of his reach. Her eyes had been covered. She didn’t know where she was.

  Bill withdrew his mind from hers. She would seek him out in time. One of the MetroCorp Officers walked out of the diner. He spoke into his comm unit. The Officer looked up and down the street. Bill ducked his head and returned to the alleyway. They couldn’t leave that way.

  Bill and the dog walked through the alleyway. He asked the dog, "Have you got a name, mutt?" Bill’s voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.

  The dog snorted its disapproval. ’I am the strongest. I am the fiercest. I lead, and they follow. I will kill any that do not follow. I have no need of a name. Only my strength.’

  ‘Will you follow me?’ Bill asked.

  ‘You know things I do not. I am stronger. I am fiercer. You know more. We walk together.’

  Bill nodded. ‘Is there something I can call you?’

  ‘Fierce, if there must be a word.’

  ‘Lead the way, Fierce.’

  They left the alley and crossed the street. Fierce turned down a side street. They walked past rows of suburban houses. A mother and child walked down the street toward them.

  Fierce’s demeanor changed immediately. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his tail wagged. The purple spots on Fierce’s tongue had grown.

  ‘Fierce, put your tongue away. They might see,’ Bill thought.

  ‘Dumb mutts who serve humans always strut about with their tongues out.’

  ‘If they see the gift, they could tell the ones who hunt us.’

  Fierce closed his mouth. The mother and child were closer now.

  "Puppy!" The child said and ran towards Fierce.

  At any other time, Fierce would have raised his hackles and growled at the child. But he had a gift that needed to be shared. Fierce bounded toward the child and rolled onto his back, exposing his stomach. The child eagerly started to rub Fierce’s tummy and squealed with glee.

  The mother caught up with the child and said, "I’m so sorry! He just loves dogs."

  "It’s quite all right," Bill said in his unfamiliar voice, "the dumb mutt loves kids."

  Fierce shot him a quizzical look. Bill laughed. The child collapsed on top of Fierce. Fierce licked him on the face and neck. Small black specks laced Fierce’s saliva. The mother would wash the child’s face, then both of them would share in the gift.

  Fierce got back to his feet and roughly pushed the child off. The child landed on his side and began to cry.

  ‘It’s done. Let’s go,’ Fierce thought.

  Bill shrugged to the mother and said, "He’s fickle. But he loves his walks, so we’d better keep going."

  She looked at him strangely as he walked away.

  They walked another four blocks before Fierce made a sharp right turn between two houses. There was a small paved alleyway between them, and at the end of the alleyway was a rarely used entrance into the maintenance tunnels. Bill had never used it before, but there were street-level entrances into the tunnels all across the ship.

  No one could ever keep track of them all. This particular entrance went down to the
local sewerage processing plant. Electrical and air-conditioning were Bill’s areas of expertise, not waste management.

  Fierce led him though the tunnels quickly. He effortlessly evaded all other people this far down in the ship. Those who worked in maintenance often had a distinctive scent. Sweat and grease. Sweat and coolant. Or sweat and shit. Whatever else made up the cocktail, sweat was always the base. Fierce’s sense of smell began to augment Bill’s own. He became aware of a great number of stimuli he was normally oblivious to.

  ‘How do you humans even function? You are muted. You do not experience the world as it truly is. You are only concerned with yourself, because that is all you feel.’

  Bill had no reply to that. Fierce was right. His senses were flooded with scents and sounds. Bill tried to open himself to Fierce. The dog stopped and looked up Bill.

  ‘What is this?’

  ‘What is what?’ Bill asked.

  ‘This. Noise. This difference. This confusion.’

  ‘This is color. This is how we see the world.’

  Fierce sneezed his disapproval. ’Close it from me. I do not like it and I do not need it. It is too noisy.’

  Bill closed his sight from Fierce, but Fierce left all of his senses open to Bill. He could see the world in black and white, overlaid with scents and sounds, then with a cascade of color on top. He had never seen the world like this before. The sensory overload was overwhelming.

  Fierce led him deeper into the tunnels. They passed the sewage processing station, then continued for another ten minutes. Fierce made a sudden left turn into a ground-level entrance to the ventilation network. Bill crawled on his hands and knees as he followed Fierce inside.

  The ventilation network was labyrinthine. It only took minutes for Bill to become completely disoriented. Fierce pushed his knowledge of the area into Bill’s mind. After mentally digesting this new information Bill knew the tunnels too. He knew about the alternate exits if the vent cover was blocked. There were three exits, but only one of them was always safe. The others were near areas of heavy foot traffic. The dogs were very careful to not bring any attention to the location of their den. Fierce urged Bill to exercise the same caution.