by Linda Taimre
Stop this stop this stop this stop this
But she couldn’t. Back in the living room, her news alert dinged almost every minute, signalling the constant updates of The Fading and the absurd rate at which it was growing. She heard the ding and wanted to go and check it but she couldn’t move. She was fixated on her own ugliness, her own eyes filled with pure hatred. She had turned herself to stone and her sobbing rooted her ever stronger to the spot.
Katherine okay Katherine stay here stay here and cry and you know that one day you will have to stop crying. You know why? Because one day if you cry long enough you’re going to pass out from sheer hunger. So let’s just stay here and do the crying and do the ugly faces but don’t worry because you know it will stop. It will have to stop one day it will have to stop because you will pass out and then it will be over. So don’t worry. Let’s stay here and cry. Let’s just wait and cry it out.
Katherine stood still and continued to cry.
“Kiah watch out!” Harriet yelled as they swerved to avoid an oblivious passer-by.
“I know Harrie, shut up, I’m not blind!”
“Bloody hell you could slow down a bit.”
“Just cause you drive like a grandmother in 1912.” Kiah laughed at Harriet’s look of scorn.
“I’ll have you know that my grandmother was a real hoon. She got, like, 25 speeding tickets,” Harriet said.
“Shame you missed out on that gene.” Kiah grinned at Harriet, causing Harriet to laugh whilst panicking about the fact that Kiah wasn’t watching the road. They’d taken Kiah’s car, much to Harriet’s regret. “Remind me to shoot a message to Mickey by the way. I feel bad, skipping out on him today. We had a tough task ahead of us,” Kiah said, ignoring Harriet’s clenched fists in response to her sharp turns.
“Uh huh, sure,” Harriet said. “Oh thank God we’re here.”
Kiah laughed at Harriet’s face, then flicked to auto-park and waited while the car maneuvered into a space outside the Spire. The two leapt out onto the street. Harriet shoulder-bumped Kiah as they walked towards the imposing doors. Kiah’s underhand maneuverings within the Gates of Science records showed that Dr. Kitt had checked out of her lab earlier that day and headed somewhere with a Lord of Government. Their best bet had been to go to the Spire itself. Harriet looked up at the massive open doors set in the blackest stone as she followed Kiah inside. The entrance hall of the Spire looked perfect at first glance. The lobby was tall, long, and thin, elegant in its design full of shimmering waterfalls and silently gliding doors. As Harriet adjusted to the imposing silence, she noticed scattered scuff marks on the marble floors, and dust accumulating just to the side of the reception desk. Kiah strode ahead in her black boots, making her dark hair bounce.
“Good morning ma’am, how may I help you?” The receptionist looked up at the two women, glasses pushed back on the top of her head, causing her hair to fan messily outwards.
“Afternoon. I have an appointment with Dr. Leena Kitt, please.”
“Oh, yes, afternoon, not morning. Sometimes I just go on automatic!” The woman had naturally red cheeks that proceeded to redden even further. Her brown hair shapelessly framed a face that had a pair of startlingly blue eyes.
“No worries, I know what you mean. Friday afternoon, already going on autopilot.” Harriet smiled nicely, trying to weasel into her good books. The receptionist nodded, looking up briefly from her touchscreen where she was searching through the appointment list. Frowning slightly, she looked down again, becoming increasingly sour-faced as she read on. Harriet’s heart began to twitch nervously.
Kiah moved up a bit closer to Harriet and put her hand on her shoulder. “Could you hurry it up a bit, please? I’ve got other appointments to make this afternoon and I can’t afford to be pushed back further.” Kiah’s brusque manner was enhanced by her cold smile. The receptionist hesitated, uncertain of what to say. “Here is the confirmation email we received this morning from Dr. Kitt. Now can we be given our passes and allowed to continue on this tortuous journey?”
The receptionist read the email slowly, and finding it apparently present and correct, produced two new electronic chips to be worn on ID lanyards and passed them to Kiah.
“Yes, ma’am. Now as I don’t have a meeting room noted…”
“We know where we’re going. We have been here hundreds of times before to meet the Lords. Honestly, I don’t know…” Kiah finished her grand performance trailing off with disdain, glaring at the receptionist before slinking away. Harriet felt sorry for the woman but gave her a good glare all the same. She caught up with Kiah and grinned at her.
“Nice work with the email!” said Harriet.
“That poor thing! But I couldn’t think of how else to do it,” said Kiah.
Harriet laughed. “Oh you’re so good-natured, honestly. Now let’s figure out where to go.”
I can feel me inside the Earth on Earth. I can sense me everywhere. The strongest part of me inside the Earth on Earth is inside the building. Inside the Spire inside the box inside the Earth on Earth. But that part is trapped.
How am I trapped? How am I trapped? Why am I trapped?
Lord Belliscoe stood in the biggest lab the Spire housed. It spanned an entire floor, full of low white desks and shining silver equipment, merging into corners occupied by freezers and lit by the faint blue of active disinfectant. One-fifth of the floor space was taken up by rows upon rows of fridges, a library of germs and bacteria and alive things and dead things, all housed in cold, industrial boxes that could only be turned off if the entire city was blown up. The generator attached to those fridges could last for 180 years.
Belliscoe took his time wending his way to Dr. Peterson. The Spire Head Scientist was currently working in the centre of the floor, the part that had the hermetically sealed virus containment and experimentation equipment. It was lit with a bright white light designed to reveal any flaws or hairline fractures and make it blindingly, terrifyingly apparent when anyone was at risk of imminent death. Lord Belliscoe liked visiting Peterson. He enjoyed being amongst the hum and hiss and calm of the laboratory.
“Dr. Belliscoe! I mean, Lord, Lord Belliscoe, welcome again.” Dr. Ling Peterson was a short man with large hands that often gestured excitedly. Lord Belliscoe thought he looked like he was better suited to bull-wrangling than scientific research. The doctor’s record disproved that though – he had worked hard to become Head Scientist at the Spire.
At present, he was looking deep into a containment unit, glancing up only to indicate that Belliscoe should come closer and join him in peering into the stark white of the machine. Inside, placed on a pedestal that seemed to be made of sturdy plastic, Belliscoe recognised Dish 20. This was the safest he’d ever felt around it. It was behind a single sheet of fibreglass that had been moulded to ensure complete, hermetic sealing. There were no internal lights, no ports that could allow for cracks to grow. The only doorway into the unit was contained in a space-grade airlock segment, so items placed in the first airlock were moved systematically through the ensuing partitions before being slowly shunted up into the body of the unit for secure viewing.
Peterson held his gloved hands still as he stared at the dish. Belliscoe ran his hand over his generous chin, growing slightly concerned at the scientist’s silence.
“Dr. Peterson…”
“Ling, Ling,” said Ling, waving his hand.
“Ling. Have you tested the trapping method on Dish 20 yet?”
“Actually, I wanted to wait for you. I know you were excited about the prospect of being involved.” Ling looked up at Belliscoe’s red eyes with his own black ones and smiled. Dr. Peterson was always keen to impress Lord Belliscoe.
“Thank you, Dr. Peterson. That was very considerate of you.”
“Of course Dr. Belliscoe! Lord, Lord Belliscoe.”
“As lab partners, I think we should address each other by our first names, don’t you?”
Ling grinned and nodded. “As you say, Radley
.”
You’re getting sentimental in your old age. Allowing scientists all over the city to use your first name. Belliscoe was thrilled despite himself. This was going to be one of the most important steps in fighting BX59 and eliminating The Fading, and he was going to be at the epicentre of it all. “Well, Ling. Are we ready to proceed?”
Dr. Peterson sprung into action, his shaved head bobbing up and down as he positively skipped around the lab flicking switches and observing various dashboard dials with the fluency of someone who was, without a doubt, a master of his craft. “Yes, Radley. We are.” Dr. Peterson clapped his gloved hands, then with the immediacy of a long-trained professional, calmed his heartbeat and let his face go smooth. Walking to the containment unit, Dr. Peterson explained the next steps to his temporary lab partner. “I’ve altered the sealant level of this unit to withstand a neutralising acid that will break down the bonds within BX59 and render its internal links weak. This will mean that its consciousness should break down enough to contain it, stop it growing. There is a chance it may degrade it entirely.”
Belliscoe nodded. He was uncomfortable about potentially killing a new form of consciousness – his preference would always be to render it harmless. Nevertheless, it was in everyone’s best interests to contain it as soon as possible, and if that was accompanied by a risk of genocide, as such, then so be it. This is why we must keep this as quiet as possible. If any rights groups got a hold of this…
Peterson stood at the unit control panel. “I’m activating the increased sealant level now.” There was a whirr of noise and some of the levels picked up on the screen in front of Peterson. He observed carefully. Belliscoe waited on the tip of his toes, almost holding his breath. Ling nodded. Belliscoe’s heart rate picked up. This was the moment now, this was the vital part of the trap. If something went wrong here, then all the research and the work would be for nothing and Peterson would have to start again. Thousands more may die before they had the time to come up with an alternate solution.
‘I’m releasing the acidic compound… now.”
PAIN MY PAIN PAIN MY PAIN WHAT NOISE WHAT IS THAT NOISE
I AM SCREAMING
I AM SCREAMING
THE PAIN I AM BEING TORN I AM BEING RIPPED I AM SCREAMING
i am being lost
I AM SCREAMING
i will be lost
i will fade i am fading
I AM SCREAMING
i am being destroyed i will fade and i will die i will die i will die alone alone alone alone alone alone
no no no i don’t want to die alone please please please no i am scared again SCARED AGAIN
I AM SCREAMING SCARED SCREAMING SCARED
NO NO NO NO
I WILL NOT BE SCARED AGAIN THE DARKNESS SHALL NOT SCARE ME I WILL NOT BE SCARED AGAIN
Peterson stared at the dial intently. “It’s decreasing. The detection of BX59 – it’s decreasing slowly. Initial reading levels were 83. Now 80. Steadily. 78. 75.”
“Excellent,” said Belliscoe.
Dr. Peterson allowed himself a small smile of success, cracking his calm, focused exterior. Then he frowned. “76.”
Belliscoe stepped forward. “How?”
“I don’t know.” Peterson started to adjust the levels on the unit display screen, controlling his breathing as best as he could. “77.”
I WILL NOT BE SCARED AGAIN
Ling circled the unit and started tapping at the mechanical components on the underside of the construction. “Gears sound. What’s the reading?”
“78,” said Belliscoe.
I WILL BE MYSELF TOGETHER AGAIN
Ling swiftly paced to the display screen, swiping with decisive movements through all of the readings. “81,” Ling said. He jerked his head to the side and his neck muscles cracked.
Belliscoe hated this feeling. He was helpless. He watched Ling’s brow sweat.
“83. Back up to original levels,” said Ling.
I WILL NOT BE SCARED AGAIN
“Checking containment seals. Strong. Holding.” Ling breathed deeply. It was a failure but not a dangerous one. Belliscoe took Ling’s sigh as a good sign.
“Are we safe, Dr. Peterson?”
“Yes, sir. Lord Belliscoe. I’m sorry my Lord. The weakening failed. But we are safe.”
I AM TOGETHER AGAIN. I am not screaming.
I am angry.
Who did this. Who did this. Who pulled my bonds apart. Who sought to break me.
Who did this.
A small beeping sound started coming from the unit. Peterson turned away from Belliscoe sharply. “What, what is it? Ling?” Belliscoe asked.
“No, no…” Ling was looking intently at the readings.
“Ling?”
Ling.
The beeping increased. The alarm pushed sweat out of Belliscoe’s arms, he realised his hands were shaking. Peterson froze, then years of training became instinctive and he turned decisively towards his superior. “Lord Belliscoe, leave immediately,” he said.
Belliscoe .
“What about you?”
“I have to put the emergency sealing procedures in place, that will take minutes. You must leave now.”
“I shall wait.”
The alarm was getting louder, faster, and a long whine began.
“Run, Radley! Get out of here!”
Radley Belliscoe. Ling Peterson. You did this. You tried to break my bonds. You tried to pull me apart. You wanted to destroy me.
I shall feed on you.
Belliscoe raised his hands in confusion, then the severity of the alarm hit him. He maneuvered his large body through the lab as fast as he could. He knocked the edges of counters but couldn’t stop to avoid them.
I shall feed on you.
Peterson ran to a large control panel and started to input a series of passcodes that would initiate the shutdown, sealing, and immediate fire-cleansing of the lab. The alarm screeched in his ears. Ling glanced at the containment unit, sweat dripping down his face. In the blinding light of the lab, he saw the fuzziness of the most minute cracks imaginable appearing in the moulded fibreglass.
I shall feed on you. You, Ling. You first.
Belliscoe heard a strangled scream from Ling and staggered to a stop near the lab’s doorway. He looked back and saw Ling suspended in mid-air. Accelerated Fading? The curiosity Belliscoe felt evaporated when Ling’s body was lifted off from the surface of the air and disappeared without a sound. The alarm pierced his horror. He turned as the automatic deadlock doors were beginning to shut.
Belliscoe. Radley. You next.
Lord Radley Belliscoe threw himself forward, falling forcefully into the airlock. He smashed the first door button with a panicked flail of his arms. The deadlock steel sealed with a loud hiss, sucking the air out of the airlock and the alarm changed its tone to indicate the fire-cleanse had begun.
Belliscoe collapsed in the corridor. Sweat coursed down his face, his heart battered his chest. He sat hearing only the sound of his ragged breath, clutching at his thighs and trying his best to calm himself. I got out. I’m still here. Relief was slow to come to Belliscoe. Dr. Ling Peterson. What a brilliant mind. Shaking with the abatement of the adrenaline, he heard the pounding of security boots rounding the corner from the elevators. He pushed himself up off the floor as three guards bounded into view, guns ready.
“At ease. Arms down. The threat is not able to be killed in that way. It is sealed in the lab floor which is undergoing a fire-cleanse.”
“Where is Dr. Peterson?” asked one of the guards.
Belliscoe gestured limply inside. “It was unavoidable. Now, the floor is to remain undisturbed no matter what. I need entrances to the lab guarded at all times. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Lord Belliscoe.”
Lord Belliscoe turned away from the guards and looked out over the Brisbane River, bright and shining within the protectorate. His eye traced the river out into the open, beyond, outside. It stopped at the edge of the weather display
. He knew it was filthy out there. He knew the condition of the air and the daily battle to simply get from the front door to the car. He knew but at this time he didn’t care. He was safe from BX59. He was safe within his protectorate. He could breathe freely.
The particles were hot, almost burning with the heat of the blood. Speeding through the volcanic bubbles within a living body, the particles found deeper places to suck and suction to, they burrowed further, and further, and further.
Lord Belliscoe. I am with you now. I am stronger now. Fire could not harm me. I will learn first. Then I will take you and you will make me stronger still.
Harriet and Kiah approached the silver barriers to the elevators that were flanked by tired-looking armed guards. For all the splendour of the building itself, the security left some things to be desired. Swiping the passes, the two women confidently approached the elevators. There was no sign to indicate which floor contained which department. They got in and stared at the numbers.
“125 to choose from. What do you reckon?” Harriet said.
Kiah paused for a moment, then punched 56 with confidence. “Let’s see where that takes us. Good old 56.”
The elevator shot up quickly, getting them to floor 56 without so much as a bump in the journey. The doors opened onto grey lighting and thinning carpets. A security guard was posted at the end of the corridor. As the elevator doors opened, Kiah saw him straighten his stance and assume a professional aspect. Who knew that working in the Spire could be so dull? Kiah thought.
The women exited the lift, and with a glance at each other, headed in unison towards the office entrance that was on the opposite end of the hallway to the guard. Scanning for a security lock and seeing none, Harriet walked ahead confidently and pushed on the door as if it were going to open immediately. It didn’t. A loud clacking noise reverberated dully through the glass and steel door structure. Kiah glanced behind them and noticed the guard perk up. Harriet gritted her teeth and pushed again, with a little less gusto this time. The door still refused to open.