Night Terrors

by Tim Waggoner

  “We needed test subjects,” Kauffman said. “I suppose we could’ve abducted them, but why not have willing ones? It makes things less complicated. And as far as our business front, it’s a matter of hiding in plain sight. The Shadow Watch is always on the lookout for any of our… projects. So instead of concealing our activities, this time we camouflaged them. It’s why our employees wear these.” She reached up and tapped the Perchance to Dream logo pin on her jacket. “It prevents Incubi and Ideators from sensing what we really are.”

  “Another little innovation of mine,” Neil said.

  I wanted to snatch Cuthbert Junior out of Jinx’s hand and smash the sledgehammer into Neil’s face.

  “Our ruse worked,” Kauffman said. “For years, the Shadow Watch has believed that we are an organization in decline, our influence and power diminished. It’s how we’ve been able to keep this operation secret.” She gave Quietus a dark look. “Until recently, that is.”

  “Quietus’ murders,” I said. “They were connected to all of this. The people he killed were a threat to you.” When Kauffman looked surprised, I added, “Deacon Booze told us.”

  “Really? So much for his vaunted neutrality. But yes, those humans were threats, if not direct ones. There was a possibility that each could’ve passed on information that might’ve caught the Shadow Watch’s attention. One was a newspaper reporter who was skeptical about torporian. Another was a lawyer who’d come here as a patient and sensed that something wasn’t quite right about our business. And yet another was a too-curious physician who had a patient participating as one of our test subjects. And the last was a college student with a long history of sleep disorders who kept a blog about his life –including his participation in torporian trials. I decided to silence them solely as a precaution. Nothing more.”

  Four lives. Snuffed out as easily as – and with no more thought than – someone blowing out a candle flame.

  “Quietus was supposed to avoid drawing attention to his… removals. But you and Jinx realized who was responsible for the killings. Quite frankly, we didn’t expect you to catch on so fast.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  She went on. “You alerted the Shadow Watch and were assigned to track down Quietus. I had already taken steps to accelerate our timetable, and then yesterday happened. Quietus tagged Jinx with an M-focuser–”

  “Another of my little contributions,” Neil interrupted.

  Kauffman scowled but continued without rebuking him. “The device allowed us to center an Incursion on your location. We’d hoped to destroy you, but instead the Maelstrom energy brought the Bean to life. And that definitely made the Shadow Watch sit up and take notice.”

  I looked at Neil. “So all that stuff you said to us about how irritated you were to have to clean up our mess was bullshit?”

  He smiled. “I had to keep playing the part of a loyal Shadow Watch employee. Once my fellow M-gineers got busy repairing the damage to the Bean, I slipped away and came here. I’ve been here ever since, working to get things ready for tonight.”

  “We know what you intend to do,” I said. “Deacon told us everything. You have a machine here capable of creating Incursions, and you plan to use it to break down the barriers between Earth, Nod, and the Maelstrom in order to create your twisted version of paradise.”

  “Earth is an incubator,” Kauffman said. A place where people like you and Russell can be born so that you, in turn, can give birth to Incubi.

  “Now imagine a world where any human, any Incubus, could tap into the energies of the Maelstrom to create whatever they wanted. Where they could satisfy any whim, any desire, with the merest thought. A world where everyone would have the power of a god. That’s the world the Lords of Misrule wish to create. And now – at long last – we will succeed, thanks to Neil’s genius.”

  “Reality is a prison,” Neil said. “We all know this subconsciously. Why else would humanity dream? We long for release from the mundane; we hunger for true freedom. M-gineers work more closely with Maelstrom energy than anyone else. Because of this, we understand it better than Incubi or even Ideators. That’s why years ago, I sought out the Lords of Misrule and offered them my services. That’s why I created the Incursion Engine: so we could all be free at last.”

  I turned to Jinx. “Sounds like someone skipped a few safety protocols over the years.”

  Jinx nodded. “They do say too much exposure to Maelstrom energy does funny things to a person’s mind.”

  “I am not crazy!” Neil said, eyes wide, mouth twisted into a snarl.

  “Yeah, that’s convincing,” Russell said.

  “So the Lords get their hands on an insane M-gineer,” I said, “and he develops new tech that allows you to create Incursions. You test it out several times, including an attack on us during the day…”

  “Two birds, one stone,” Kauffman said. “Unfortunately, you survived. Again.”

  “And after Jinx and I came sniffing around here, you decided to speed things up even more. We might only be annoying, but we could bring the whole Shadow Watch down on you.”

  “But the Incursion Engine wasn’t ready,” Russell said. “You needed some kind of focus or power boost or something.”

  “So you kidnapped Sanderson,” Jinx finished.

  Kauffman reached out and stroked Sanderson’s cheek. I thought I saw him shudder slightly in response, but it could’ve been my imagination.

  “You have no idea what he really is,” she said. “Or what I am, for that matter. Oh, I’m sure Deacon told you I’m the Fata Morgana, but that’s merely a name. Beings such as Sanderson and I are far, far older than we seem. And far more powerful.”

  Neil grinned. “Unfortunately for him, not powerful enough to resist a blast of torporian.”

  “So, why didn’t the great Fata Morgana offer to power the Incursion Engine herself?” I asked. “Wait, let me guess. Sanderson won’t survive the process, will he?”

  Kauffman simply smiled.

  “There’s nothing you can do to stop us,” Neil said. “By now, the Incursion Engine is online and functioning at full capacity. All we have to do is activate it.”

  I thought of the room Jinx and I had walked past during our tour, the one from which I’d heard a loud, powerful thrumming. I felt certain that’s where the Incursion Engine was housed. And now I understood why I’d felt so anxious and nauseated at Perchance to Dream earlier. As an Ideator, I was sensitive to Maelstrom energy, and the power given off by Neil’s machine was too much for me to handle comfortably, especially when it was operating and warping reality.

  “Have you ever really thought about your role as an officer of the Shadow Watch, Audra?” Kauffman asked. “Have you considered what it is that you really do? You’ve sworn to keep the worlds of the Incubi and humanity apart. Do you truly think that’s fair? Who gave the Shadow Watch the authority to decide the destiny of others? Incubi like him?”

  She nodded to Sanderson. “Earth is our home, too. We’re the children of humanity, and we deserve to live and walk among you freely. For a long time, that was the goal of the Lords of Misrule. And for some of us, it still is. But over the centuries, I’ve come to the conclusion that humankind will never accept us. To them, we’ll always be nightmares, best locked away and forgotten. But once our worlds are merged, that will change.” She smiled. “Permanently.”

  I didn’t want to admit it, but Kauffman’s words had hit a nerve with me. I’d never considered that instead of a cop, I was really more like a border patrol officer, keeping two groups of people apart simply because someone in power thought they shouldn’t mix. The idea didn’t sit well with me.

  “There’s one thing I still don’t understand,” Russell said. “Why bother to pose as a human psychiatrist? Why treat young children with sleep disorders?”

  “What better way to identify possible Ideators and sway them to the Lords’ cause before the Shadow Watch – those noble defenders of the status quo – could get to them? Many o
f our earliest test subjects for torporian were Ideators I recruited. And most of the Incubi who worked here were created by them. Sometimes, it’s easier to grow your own instead of stealing from someone else’s garden. This way, there was less chance of the Shadow Watch discovering what we were up to.”

  “You didn’t try very hard to recruit Russell and me,” I said. “Not that either of us is complaining.”

  “Damn straight,” Russell said.

  “I did try, although neither of you were aware of it at the time. You only remembered what I wanted you to.”

  Her eyes flashed yellow, and my gut clenched as if I’d been punched in the stomach. I remembered those eyes. Remembered seeing them as Kauffman told me things: strange, dark, disturbing things. Things she’d later tell me to forget.

  Right then I found it ironic that as a child, I had been afraid of what, at the time, had been an imaginary nightmare clown, when all the while my mom and dad had been taking me to see a real monster.

  Kauffman’s eyes returned to normal. “Unfortunately, neither of you were pliable enough to make suitable candidates for conversion. You’re too… independent.” She made a face as she said the word, as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. “I continued to keep an eye on you both as you grew up and your Incubi became fully Ideated. Just in case you might prove useful one day. I thought that day had come, at least in part, when we hired Russell and his canine friend to help us. Unfortunately, I was wrong.”

  She looked at me then. “Neil wanted me to give you the chance to join us, Audra. He truly believes that once you understand our goals, you’ll see the beauty of the world we’re trying to create. But I doubt there’s anything I can say that will convince you and your clown, is there?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Jinx said. “I am batshit crazy, you know. I might come on over to the dark side just for shits and giggles.”

  Kauffman scowled. “Please. I am the Fata Morgana, and I see that which is hidden to all others. You’re simply attempting to lull us into thinking you’ve turned traitor so that you can then attack us. It’s a pathetic ploy from a pathetic creature.”

  Jinx shrugged. “Can’t blame a clown for trying.” He turned to me. “Your curiosity satisfied?” he asked.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “How about you?” he asked Russell.

  “I’m good.”

  Jinx nodded. “Then let’s get this road on the show.”

  Jinx made no obvious move, but a stream of liquid shot forth from his oversized lapel flower, and arced through the air toward Neil. Quietus hurled a pair of dark shards which thunked into Jinx’s chest, but the assassin was too late. The acid struck its target: the nozzle of Neil’s torporian gun. The metal hissed and sizzled, and the nozzle melted shut.

  “Fuck!” Neil shouted and threw his useless weapon to the rooftop.

  I fired my trancer at the Fata Morgana, and the multicolored beam struck her in the chest. My gun didn’t have much charge left, but I poured every ounce of remaining power into the ancient Incubus. Raw Maelstrom energy slammed into her, wreathing her in swirling, multihued light. For good measure, I pulled Jinx’s trancer from its holster and fired it at the Fata Morgana, adding its power to my own.

  Without bothering to remove the dark shards protruding from his chest – and ignoring the blood oozing from the wounds they’d made – Jinx hurled Cuthbert Junior toward Quietus. The sledgehammer tumbled end over end toward the silent assassin with such speed that he couldn’t avoid it. The hammer struck him a devastating blow right between the eyes – or at least where his eyes would’ve been if he’d had any visible.

  Neil let out a stream of foul language as he began rummaging through the numerous pockets of his gray jumpsuit, searching for another weapon, I assumed.

  “Fuck-shit-damn-cunt-suck-hell!”

  Russell, rapier in hand, ran forward to attack him. Before Russell could run him through, Neil pulled out a two-pronged device from one of his pockets and activated it. It began vibrating and humming, like a tuning fork, and a barrier of M-energy sprung up in front of him like a wall. Russell tried to thrust his rapier through the barrier, but his blade was turned aside. Russell attempted to maneuver around the barrier, but it moved with Neil, who kept it between himself and Russell.

  Sanderson continued to stand motionless and expressionless, eyes dull and unseeing. Bloodshedder remained asleep, snoring rather loudly.

  The hammer strike sent Quietus flying backward, and if he’d been human, the blow would’ve splattered his head like rotten melon. But he was an Incubus, and a strong one at that. He landed on his back and slid a few feet. Cuthbert Junior landed only a foot away from his outstretched hand, and he grabbed hold of the hammer and sprang to his feet, uninjured.

  I continued putting the heat on the Fata Morgana, but both my trancer and Jinx’s were rapidly running out of power. The energy output was dwindling, and the beams were thinning out. The Fata Morgana remained encased in a cocoon of roiling M-energy, but I had no idea what, if any, effect it was having on her. All I could do was keep firing and hope.

  Quietus started running toward Jinx, Cuthbert Junior raised over his head, clearly intending to give Jinx a taste of his own medicine. But Jinx wasn’t about to stand and wait for it. Springs shot out of his shoes and propelled him toward Quietus.

  Jinx held his hands out before him – and although I only caught a blurred glimpse of silvery-gray on his fingers, I knew that he now wore high-voltage joy buzzers, like he’d used on Shocktooth in Nod, on each of his fingers. He slammed into Quietus and grabbed hold of the assassin’s throat as they both went down in a heap. Before Quietus could swing Cuthbert Junior, Jinx moved into a crouching position over Quietus, his rubber-soled feet firmly planted on the rooftop. He then activated his joy buzzers, and electrical power coruscated over them both.

  Quietus jerked and spasmed as Jinx maintained his double grip on the assassin’s neck. Coils of smoke rose from Jinx’s hands, and his face was contorted into an expression of homicidal ecstasy that would’ve caused any bystanders to piss themselves in terror if they’d been present.

  “Just call me the Electro-cutioner, baby!” he cried. He followed this with one of his earsplitting hyena laughs.

  Russell, who continued his shuffling dance with Neil, called out, “How the hell can you stand to work with him?”

  “He grows on you,” I called back. “Kind of like a clown-white tumor!”

  My trancer finally came up empty, the energy field surrounding the Fata Morgana winked out, and a different being now stood in her place. I don’t know if she’d been able to maintain her Day Aspect even at night or if she was able to shift between them at will. Whichever the case, she now appeared to be a tall woman – almost inhumanly lithe – with alabaster skin and long raven-black hair that fell all the way to her feet. She wore a dark green Renaissance-festival-style dress that glinted in the parking lot lights as if the fabric contained flecks of diamond.

  All of that made her an imposing figure, but the most disturbing feature of this Aspect was her face. It appeared to be made from uneven pieces of crystal that constantly shifted like a kaleidoscope. And set in the midst of the seething crystalline shards was a pair of gleaming yellow eyes.

  The sight of the Fata Morgana’s true appearance startled me, as it did Russell. I lowered my useless trancers, and he broke off the attack on Neil. Both of us stared at her.

  “I remember her,” Russell said. I could barely hear him over Jinx’s mad laughter and the sound of crackling electricity.

  “Me, too.” When Kauffman closed her office door, day or night, she would shed her illusion of humanity and reveal this creature, her true self – the Fata Morgana.

  If my trancer fire had done her any damage, I couldn’t tell by looking at her. She stood tall and steady, and exuded a palpable aura of strength.

  “A for effort,” she said in a voice like tinkling wind chimes.

  While Russell and I were distracted, Neil deactivate
d his tuning fork, tucked it away in a pocket, and then from another pocket withdrew a new object. It was made of M-energy and was roughly the size and shape of a yo-yo. He pointed it at Sanderson and thumbed a button on the side.

  Sanderson stiffened as the collar around his neck began to pulse with white light. His eyes gleamed with the same light, and they pulsed in time with the collar.

  Pain lanced through my skull as if someone had taken a white-hot iron spike and driven it into one of my ears and out the other. Crippling nausea twisted my insides, and I dropped my spent trancers, fell to all fours, and began retching uncontrollably. It took me several moments to get my body under some semblance of control. When I did, I looked at Russell and saw he was as bad off as I was.

  I looked for Jinx, and I saw he was now on his back. Quietus was straddling him and plunging deadly shards into Jinx’s body, one after the other, in rapid succession. Tendrils of steam rose from the assassin, but there was no more electricity. Like the trancers, Jinx’s joy buzzers – all ten of them – had run out of power, and now Quietus was fighting back.

  The Fata Morgana turned to Neil. “You took your time activating the Engine.”

  It was difficult to read the Fata Morgana’s expression, given her constantly shifting features, but I was fairly certain she was displeased with Neil. He lowered his gaze, as if unwilling to meet her glowing yellow eyes.

  “Sorry. I was busy trying to avoid getting skewered by Nocturne.”

  Despite the agony that continued to explode in my skull, I was able to think clearly enough to wonder why Neil was unaffected by the energies being given off by the Incursion Engine. A resistance built up from years of exposure to M-energy? Some protective device he carried? Not that I cared much at that moment. As horrible as I felt right then, all I wanted was for some kind soul with a shotgun to come along and put me out of my misery.

  I turned my face skyward and saw streaks of multicolored Maelstrom energy rippling in the air above us. Only a few at first, but more appeared with each passing second.