Holes in the Ground

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Holes in the Ground Page 5

by J. A. Konrath


  “What was it you said to him at the start?” Kane asked.

  “He was reciting the Lord’s Prayer in Manx. I filled in the next few lines. Apparently he can also speak Latin, Swahili, and Croatian.”

  “He’s an enigma, that one. We haven’t had any idea what to do with him, which is why we had to call on you. He smiles all the time, and has been cooperative, but something about him is… wrong.”

  “You mean the fact that he seems to know everything, can come and go at will, and has no DNA?” Sun asked.

  “It’s more than that.” Kane reached the elevator and folded his thin arms across his chest. “Of all the mysteries the Spiral contains, he’s the biggest. He might also be the most dangerous.”

  Chapter Seven

  While Sun and Andy went to meet their new colleagues, Jerry was escorted to his room by some dick with a gun, who practically frogmarched him inside. The whole experience left Jerry feeling abused and upset.

  Story of my life.

  At least the new digs were pretty sweet. The living quarters they’d provided him were almost as big as the two-bedroom flat he used to share with his mother back at home, back before she’d…

  Got to stop thinking about the past, dude. Dwelling has got me in enough trouble already. I can’t even go back home because of what I did.

  Still, I landed on my feet with this place. I came to America to get a website interview and ended up in a real life episode of the X-Files. I’m like a cooler Fox Mulder.

  And that vet chick would make a pretty good Scully.

  Except that she’s married. And way out of my league.

  And old. She has to be in her mid-thirties.

  Jerry decided to take a load off. He lay down on the room’s plush double bed and stared up at the ceiling.

  This is so messed up.

  I’m alone in a strange country, and now I’ve ended up stumbling across something so top secret it blows away my wildest dreams. They’re not going to let me leave; not after what I’ve seen. I don’t even want to think about those giant spiders. Shite!

  They have the entire freaking cast of Hammer Horror down here in the flesh. I swear one of those things I saw was a goddamn werewolf.

  No, no way will they’ll let me go after seeing all this.

  Even if they do, all I have to look forward to is getting nicked by the Old Bill as soon as I set foot back home.

  My life is over one way or another.

  Be careful what you wish for…

  Jerry reached into his back pocket and pulled out his iPhone. No signal, naturally, but there was WiFi. Password protected, though. He scrolled through his photos until he found a picture of his best friend, Ben. Somehow that weird guy, Lucas, had known about him. He also claimed to know Jerry. The strange thing was, Jerry sort of felt the same way. Sometimes he had weird nightmares of being trapped with a group of strangers in a pub because it wouldn’t stop snowing outside, and he could almost—but not quite—recall someone like Lucas in those dreams. It was the feeling of having memories that were not his own that had first led him to trying to find out the truth behind conspiracies. It turned out that he was right to, because he had stumbled right into the middle of one now.

  He flipped through a few more pics, found a selfie of him and Ben in Ben’s Dad’s video shop, standing in front of a wall of DVDs.

  Wonder what you’re up to, buddy. Hope you’re okay.

  But Jerry knew that his friend was not okay. Not after what had happened.

  Wouldn’t be surprised if you never speak to me again. I really wish you were here, though, ‘cus this place would blow your mind. All of the times we spent discussing horror movies, and aliens, and government secrets, and I end up in a place like this.

  Ben was a large part of the reason Jerry began the Stop Government Secrets website. He’d always told Jerry he was wasting his time, living without purpose, so Jerry had given himself a purpose. To uncover the truth behind all the weird rumors and stories and conspiracies he and Ben always joked about. That had led him to learning about Samhain. After hundreds of hours of research and training—and yes, computer hacking did require a lot of training—Ben had connected Samhain to Andy and Sun, and had hatched a plan to interview them in person. Get them to the Comics and Conspiracies Convention, pretend to be a fanboy, and then befriend them until they trusted him enough to spill the truth.

  And then…

  And then betray that earned trust by putting their secrets on his website.

  Shit, I’m a total shit. No wonder no one likes me.

  I don’t even like myself.

  Jerry felt a tear well up in the corner of his eye. He quickly sprang up off the bed to keep it from taking root. The key was to occupy himself. Sitting still or lying down would let in all of his regret, and there was way too much of it for a coward like him to bear.

  Maybe I deserve whatever happens to me. If a bunch of gits-in-black knock on my door and make me ‘disappear’, maybe I’ll finally find some peace again. Maybe I’ll manage to get some sleep finally.

  Even if it ends up being permanent.

  Jerry located the suite’s bathroom and stripped naked for a shower. He hoped the hot water would burn the bad thoughts right out of his head.

  It didn’t.

  Chapter Eight

  General Kane led Andy and Sun into a vast room. Like the ‘Nucleus’ upstairs it was full of desks, computers, and various hi-tech equipment that seemed to do nothing useful other than blink and beep. Andy found it mightily impressive.

  Wonder if it all runs on Windows Illuminati.

  Kane strolled over to a large conference desk taking up the center of the room and pulled up a seat for Sun. She sat. Andy found himself a chair beside her. He looked around, observing the room in closer detail.

  There were several offices that led off from the central room. People in lab coats occupied some of them, but most were empty. At the far side of the room, chatting in a huddle, were three men wearing black-op suits and shouldering mean-looking assault rifles that didn’t fit any design which Andy knew of. Behind them was a door, labelled: LABS 1-4.

  “This is the conference room,” Kane said. “This is where you and the team will share notes and make use of the more basic research equipment. Each member of the inner staff also has their own private office, but the efforts here are mostly communal. In other words, everyone shares what they know with each other rather than sitting on information to further their own agenda. There is no individual glory here—it’s all about the mission.”

  Andy wondered how that was working out. In Andy’s experience, personal growth and reward were driving forces. When those were removed, people became lazy.

  Kane continued.

  “There are four fully-equipped labs down here, to which everyone has access, under the supervision of Dr. Gornman. I am in charge here, but beyond that everybody has their own autonomy within their own specific area of research. You take orders from me and no one else. That needs to be very clear.”

  Andy and Sun said nothing, but both nodded.

  Kane leaned forward to reach an intercom unit set into the middle of the desk. He pressed a button and said, “Can I have everyone in the conference room, please, to meet our newest additions?”

  They sat in silence for a few moments while people started to funnel out of the adjacent offices. Each of the newcomers pulled up a chair at the large desk. It began to resemble a meeting of the joint-chiefs.

  “Okay,” Kane said. “We have over fifty people in this facility, but this is the main team. Allow me to start the introductions. Everyone, this is Andrew and Sun Dennison-Jones. Andrew knows several dozen languages, and was summoned by the President himself to communicate with the Manx man. Sun is a veterinarian. They were both assigned to Project Samhain, and were there when it… ended.”

  Andy stared at the blank faces regarding him, and decided smiling and waving was the wrong way to go. Instead he nodded curtly.

  Kane in
dicated a large man in one of the black ops suit. The guard had a long raggedy Rasputin beard and biceps the size of melons. On his belt was a huge sidearm, a pager, a knife, a leather pouch, and a police baton. Two equally-large black men flanked him on either side.

  “This is Sergeant Steve Rimmer, head of Spiral security. Either side of him are his team leaders, Mike Handler and Tyler West. Any security breaches, or personnel conflicts, will be dealt with by Rimmer and his team.

  Rimmer nodded but didn’t speak. Handler and West both said hello and smiled.

  “Next we have Dr. Larry Chandelling, who is our lead scientist and head of information technology. Any tissue samples you need analysing will go through him and his team of assistants. Likewise, any questions about our computer systems here should be directed his way.”

  “Glad to be working with you,” the doctor warmly said. He was a skinny, middle-aged, weasel-featured man, but wore a friendly smile. “I’d be very interested in hearing about Samhain, and sharing notes.”

  Kane waved a hand. “We can get to that later, Dr. Chandelling.” He moved on. “Our Head of Medicine is Dr. Thandi Gornman. She holds doctorates in Medicine and Psychiatry and has overall control of the labs. Dr. Gornman will dispense any drugs that you may need for personal use or for the care of the various guests we contain. She is also quite the expert with our IT systems here, but try not to bother her unless absolutely necessary. She runs a tight ship.”

  Dr. Gornman had short, straight black hair and sharp features. She appraised them from behind horn-rim spectacles and seemed to frown at what she saw. “Do any of you have any medical conditions I need to know about? Diabetes, for instance. Or depression. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  Sun shook her head. Andy considered his hemorrhoids, and decided to stay quiet.

  “Then I don’t expect to see very much of you, except for mandatory weekly sessions. We can schedule them soon.”

  “What is that?” Sun asked.

  Kane answered. “The stress of working in a secret underground facility, surrounded by monsters, tends to accumulate. The powers that be deemed it wise to have a full-time psychiatrist available to the staff. Everyone meets with Dr. Gornman once a week to chat.”

  “Does that chat include a psych eval?” Sun asked.

  Gornman smiled placidly, like the head shrink she was. “No one judges, here. But if I feel someone is unfit for duty, they are removed from the facility.”

  Kane clasped his hands in front of him. “Thank you, Dr. Gornman. Finally, let me introduce Gwen Nester. She works in the library which is located to the east side of this room.”

  A young redhead directly opposite Andy gave a warm smile. “Call me Nessie. I’m the facility’s expert on ancient theology and belief structures. The boring stuff.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying, you look young,” Andy noted.

  Nessie shrugged her shoulders but didn’t seem to take offence at the comment. “I’m afraid there’s very little interest in cultures from three thousand years ago. There’s a limited talent pool to pick from. My predecessor sadly passed away this year. But I have devoted my entire adult life to studying the ancient world, so I promise you I know more than enough to be of use. Plus I used to watch The History Channel obsessively, back when it used to, you know, actually air history programs.” Nessie cleared her throat. “That was a joke, by the way.”

  Andy smiled politely, but he wondered if Nessie might be a liability. She was mid-twenties and brimming with positivity, but neither of those things tended to help when you were fighting for your life against hellspawn.

  “Pleased to meet you all,” Sun said.

  “Me, too,” Andy concurred. “Has work already begun on analysing the batling?”

  There was a collection of frowns and grunts around the table. Kane addressed the confusion. “Mr. and Ms. Dennison-Jones refer to our new arrival as a ‘batling’.”

  Dr. Chandelling nodded and looked amused. “As good a name as any. I was calling it flying goat thingy. The official channels have been referring to it as a ‘faustling”’

  “Have you discovered anything about it yet?” Sun asked.

  “Not much.” Nessie frowned. “It was captured in the woods above the entry hatch a few days ago.”

  The Head of Security, Rimmer, pulled at his scraggly beard and sniffed. “The weekly perimeter sweep discovered a pile of bodies in the clearing above. Dead mule deer, bobcats, big horn sheep. It was as if an alpha-predator had started wiping out all of the local fauna. When one of our security teams went out to investigate they found your batling feasting on the carcass of a cougar. They opened fire and tore the thing to pieces before bringing the remains underground. Within the hour it had completely healed and come back to life. Our subsequent attempts to harm it have resulted in temporary injuries at best.”

  “Bub could regenerate by manipulating his DNA, and the DNA of other organic matter,” Sun explained. “He’s got these—stingers—in his palms. They’re like syringes. He uses them to inject some sort of DNA mutator serum into tissue. He created the batlings, and looked exactly like them, only larger. Stands to reason they have the same ability to heal as he did.”

  Dr. Gornman nodded. There was a hint of disdain on her face, a slight narrowing of her eyes and downturn of her pointed nose. “That much is quite obvious. We need to discover the source of the ability, though. If we can harness the ability to heal instantly we can transform mankind. Just think of a world without injury, without disability. We would be the saviors of the human race.”

  Sun leaned in closer. “You don’t think people tried figuring that out at Samhain? They had Bub locked up for over a century and gained nothing from him. It’s tempting fate to even try. Stopping him should be our only priority.”

  “The Samhain facility was a relic, improperly administrated,” Gornman said. “Human error, and faulty protocol led to the security breaches there. Bub should have been brought here when he was discovered.”

  “Why wasn’t he?”

  “President Roosevelt didn’t trust anyone but the US to keep an eye on him,” Gornman answered. “Which turned out to be a huge mistake. They should have brought the creature to us, or to another Deus Manus facility. We have the very best security, the best technology, and the very best minds.”

  “Okay,” Sun said. “Then I’ll ask again, what have you learned so far?”

  Gornman made a face. “Nothing conclusive yet, but tests are ongoing. It’s just a matter of time until—”

  “So you have nothing.”

  Gornman folded her arms.

  “We know that the thing does not sleep,” Dr. Chandelling said, scratching at his pockmarked chin. “We know that it feels pain, but not always. It can’t be killed. It doesn’t seem to get sick. We bombarded it with a few simple strains of flu and chickenpox. It contracted neither.”

  “You can try every virus you have,” Sun told them. “Nothing will have any effect. The only thing we found that hurt Bub was radiation—and even that didn’t finish the job.”

  Dr. Chandelling nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes. I read your debriefing after Samhain. I heard that you hit Bub with a huge dose of rads. I would be very excited to hear your experiences first-hand.”

  “It’s not something we’re particularly comfortable talking about,” Sun said, “but we’ll share what we know. That batling you have locked up is part of something bigger. It can’t be a coincidence you caught it nearby. We need to figure out what Bub’s game is.”

  Gornman shook her head slightly. “You’re over-reacting. Deus Manus has kept watch over thousands of dangerous creatures for thousands of years. We are more than equipped to handle a single batling.”

  “Bub isn’t a giant spider or an imp,” Andy said. “He wanted to enslave mankind. And he had the means to do it. If that batling knows what Bub knew, and has his abilities, you all better put on some long rubber boots because we’re in some seriously deep shit.”

  Gornman
frowned. “The mistakes at Samhain were a combination of human and technical error. That can’t happen here. We’re much more technologically advanced than you were, and our staff is more experienced. It takes years to be inducted into the Order. Many, such as Dr. Nester here, are groomed since college to be inducted. The batling will be contained. The only threat to this operation is newcomers who don’t understand the protocol.”

  Andy leaned forward on the table like an angry cop doing an interrogation, except he was the one being scrutinised. “I couldn’t care less about your Order. But if you treat that demon like it’s just another attraction in your crazy little zoo, it’s going to kill you, me, everyone here, and the whole goddamn world.”

  “At ease,” Kane ordered. Then he addressed Gornman. “Andrew and Sun Dennison-Jones are here at the insistence of the President. They have full access to anything they need, and you’ll listen to what they’re saying. That’s an order.”

  Gornman didn’t seem to like it. “What about that straggler you brought in with you? The English boy?”

  “How do you even know about him?” Kane asked.

  “It’s my job to know what’s going on around here, Austin.”

  “No, Dr. Gornman, it is not. That is my job, and you may address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘General’. Now go and wait in my office.”

  Gornman popped up from her seat, spun around and marched away with her heels clicking on the tiled floor.

  Andy winced. For a psychiatrist she seems to have some serious emotional issues.

  “What’s with the Manx man?” Sun asked around. “What do you know about him?”

  Dr. Chandelling sat up in his seat and grinned. “He’s very interesting, very fascinating. He’s like nothing we’ve ever seen before. Every test we run on him comes up implausible. He has cells, but no DNA, either in the nucleus or mitochondria. He has blood, but we can’t type it. No antibodies, no antigens, no leucocytes, no platelets—just plasma and red cells. He doesn’t eat, sleep, or…you know, go to the toilet. He’s just there, chatting away happily in that strange language.”

 

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