by Ryan Notch
And just like that the program was off, Node 8 no longer connected to the network in any way but physically, and Shaw took care of that finally with a pair of wire clippers. He walked out, leaving the light on but shutting and locking the door. Someone else could seal the room back up later.
Chapter 5
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As frantically as he wanted to find Brock, there weren’t that many places he could think to look. He drove to Brocks apartment, using what Brock called the "drunk key" hidden behind the lamp to get in, but the place was empty. He next drove to the top of the mountain to check the telescope but no one answered when he pounded on the door. Worried as he was about his friend he would have broken a window, but the building had none. Concrete walls and a metal fire door, the place was built like a fortress.
And so he had no choice but to drive home. He intended to stay up, to keep calling Brock, but worry and fear and days of sleeplessness gave way to a deep exhaustion. He crawled into bed, leaving his bedside lamp and radio on for the company. In seconds he was asleep.
He dreamt. Standing in the black room he knew instantly what was about to happen. Still he was too late, he caught a glimpse of his own back from earlier that evening leaving the room just before the door slammed. He ran to it and tried it, but it was no use. By the logic of a dream he knew that when he had left the black room earlier, he had locked his dreaming self in. He faced the door, and knew what was behind him.
He spun around and knowing he was trapped in a corner, his animal instincts told him to fight. The thing was there, almost close enough to touch. It’s spastic limbs flopping out towards him, inches away. This close he could see it more clearly. Even with its features hidden behind layers of translucent wet skin, he could tell it was the same person as in the pictures. It was Dr. Hemah.
And then there was the sound. It poured from the speakers on the desk. Dr. Hemah stopped, turned in surprise towards it. Shaw did as well. He should have been relieved, happy for any distraction that would prevent the thing from touching him with that sickly flesh. But he wasn’t, because somehow he knew this was really happening, and the signal wasn’t supposed to be coming tonight. He had stopped it, so how was it still coming?
Dr. Hemah walked over to the desk, his head tilted to better listen. Shaw followed, around the other side. He saw what he was looking for, the network cable was cut just as it had been when he left earlier. He spoke aloud to the thing.
“How is this happening? I cut the wire…”
If what was left of Dr. Hemah understood him, it made no indication. It listened all the more intently to the signal, and Shaw understood why. You could hear it better here somehow, not just in the black room but in a dream. Finally Shaw could hear all the way to the center of the sound, he could make out clearly what he had been searching for all that time. It was the sound of darkness yes, but not blind and not deaf. Not unintelligent. And above all else, it was not an empty darkness.
Dr. Hemah knew it, too, Shaw could tell by his bearing even though he no longer had a face to show it. The thing was terrified. It went into spasms, bouncing from one wall to another. Shaw watched this in mute horror. That this thing should be afraid filled him with something that went beyond fear, it was despair.
Something grabbed his leg, Shaw woke. He jerked his leg away in surprise, but was relieved once he saw who it was. It was Brock sitting on the end of the bed, half his face lit by the bedside lamp, the other half in shadow. But something was wrong, his dream wasn’t ending all the way for some reason. He could still hear the signal. Only he wasn’t dreaming, he was hearing it for real. He looked around for where it could be coming from, and found the source soon enough. It was coming from the radio next to his bed.
Brock followed his eyes, saw what he was looking at.
“Yeah, that’s enough of that,” Brock said as he reached over and turned off the radio. It was only then that Shaw saw the glint of light off the butcher knife in Brock’s other hand.
“Brock…Brock what the hell? What are you doing here?”
“I went to look for you at the university. I found Kit there in his office. He’d taken a letter opener and managed to somehow disembowel himself with it. His intestines were spooled out onto the ground in intricate patterns, he must have been at it a long time before he died…”
“Jesus Christ,” Shaw whispered. “It’s that signal…why did you play that signal on my radio?”
“Oh I didn’t. Damn things got so powerful it’s coming over all the RF channels now. TV too.”
Shaw’s mind was clearing more the longer he was awake, but he felt like nothing was making any sense.
“What…what do you mean?”
“The triangulation, we finished it. Silly me, here I was thinking the thing was on the other half of the universe, and all this time it was just on the edge of our own solar system. Picked up your signal and headed right for us. Guess it wanted to meet you.”
“But how is that possible? How could it be out there all this time without you guys ever seeing it?”
“Jesus Shaw, you really don’t understand astronomy. It was only in the last few years that we started finding rocks bigger than Pluto at the edge of our solar system, and those actually reflect light. This thing could have stayed hidden forever.”
“Oh my God. But…what is it?”
“You can find out yourself Shaw, it’ll be here in a few hours. You can’t miss it, it’s the size of the fucking moon.”
With that Brock raised the knife. Shaw backed away helplessly, thinking Brock meant to stab him with it. But instead Brock plunged it into his own stomach. He locked eyes with Shaw, staring at him with heartbreaking shock and accusation, as if Shaw were the one who had stabbed him, betrayed him somehow. Brock’s eyes never left Shaw’s, even when his face twisted in pain as he sawed the knife up his chest. He died with that expression on his face as Shaw remained frozen in shock and terror.
Shaw began quietly murmuring to himself, gradually building to a whisper that he repeated over and over.
“Wake up…wake up…wake up…wake up…”
Part 2
Chapter 6
********************
Jack arrived at the party early enough to be surprised to see the apartment already pretty full. Alex knew how to throw a party. Loud music, but not too loud to talk to people. Dropkick Murphy’s, Celtic punk with a big city edge. The perfect Boston band for the perfect Boston party. The kind of party where the people like to get a just a little too drunk. And judging by the dead accurate imitation of a fully stocked bar on the kitchen counter, Jack figured it was a sure thing for the night. Yes, things were gonna get loud. Which was just fine, because Alex had invited the neighbors on both sides and above and below. Anyone who would be bothered was already here.
He glanced around the room, picking the faces he knew from the people he didn’t. The one bedroom apartment was already full enough for a few people to be spilling out onto the porch. He spotted Noel first, Alex’s very cute wife. She was of Russian decent, and looked it. Tall with pale blond hair that went halfway down her back. Very friendly, always making people feel welcome. Especially once she got some alcohol in her. And judging by the Mike’s Hard Lemonade in her hand, that was her exact plan. By no surprise she was listening to Alex’s best friend Collin, the mathematician who didn’t look like a mathematician.
Collin had clean, well-cut brown hair. Shaved on the sides but finger length on the top, and always styled. Clothes always clean and pressed. Enough to look good without seeming like he was trying too. Collin was a little short, but Jack had actually hung out with him quite a bit before he even noticed. Somehow Collin just acted tall. He had a way of quickly noticing what made people tick, and saying to them something they would find uniquely interesting. He seemed to know everything, to have something interesting to say on every subject. Jack had gone to the bars with Collin and Alex on more than one occasion, and when it came to picking up girls Colli
n could definitely swim with the sharks. Jack should know. He was one of the sharks.
Also listening to Collin were Sam andShayna Byrd. For a guy who always seemed to be looking for an excuse to talk about math, there was no question that Collin could drive a conversation. Not that Sam and Shayna had much choice. As the worlds most annoying couple, Jack was pretty confident the entire party would be spending the night trying to avoid them. Not only did their primary interest seem to be professional snobbery, but Jack absolutely hated those couples who had to look at each other after every word for confirmation. He could picture it now, “We loved Yellowstone, right honey? Right?” Some couples it seemed had only one brain to share between them, Sam and Shayna seemed to be working with a bit less than that.
God save me from such a fate, he thought. Not that he was necessarily against marriage, but there had to be a better way.
He glanced around a bit more. Just about the whole apartment complex had turned up. Dick and James, roommates from next door. If they weren’t boyfriends, then Jack had the world’s worst gaydar. And if they were gay, then that gay fashion sense thing was an urban myth.
Pat the musician from downstairs. Felix the bartender. Dee the “I only sell pot to make some extra money” full-time pot dealer. A few more, friends of the residents no doubt. He didn’t see Alex so headed out onto the porch, where the last rays of sunlight illuminated the courtyard below.
Jack spotted Alex second, because Alex was talking toArtesia Rowe and when Artesia was in a room you always spotted her first. Artesia was the most beautiful girl in the brownstone. Short boy cut blond hair, dazzling blue eyes, and a body like a walking heart attack. She looked like a model, which was about right because that’s what she did for a living. She was so dazzling that you always wanted to spend a party talking to her, despite the fact that around her your ability to talk tended to get all funny. It all lead to a bit of a letdown because every time Jack had actually talked to her she didn’t seem to have a single interesting thing to say. The kind of girl who never had to develop an actual personality because guys always told her “Oh you’re so interesting” no matter what she said. Despite this Jack had a continuous war going on in his head between the devil on one shoulder that said he could get her into bed (despite her being completely unobtainable), and the angel on the other that said if he did he’d have to, out of politeness, stop and talk to her every time he passed her in the hall. In the end he just kept reminding himself that when beautiful women left his apartment in the mornings, he preferred if they weren’t just walking downstairs.
If Alex was intimidated by her, he didn’t show it. Alex never showed it. Alex was the only guy Jack knew who could keep up with him when it came to women. Which was saying a lot because Alex was handicapped by not being able to do anything with them on account of being married. Or maybe it wasn’t a handicap after all. Alex had once joked that magicians should use a wedding ring to hypnotize women instead of a watch.
Alex looked like James Dean. Or if he didn’t exactly look like him, definitely dressed the part. Leather jacket, tee-shirt, torn jeans. Dark skin, dark eyes, dark hair. The kind of guy you’d expect to spend the weekend under a car. And in fact if you did expect that you wouldn’t be disappointed. A gear head without a doubt, but the man’s real talent was with people. Jack didn’t know if Alex just knew where to find all the cool people to hang out with, or if somehow people got cooler around him. Booze and music made Alex and Noel’s parties good, but Alex made them great. Somehow you just knew there would be half undressed hot girls and a fist fight by the end of the night.
Alex's way with women was a bit of a mystery to Jack, unlike his own. He had the looks, he had the build. And being British he had the accent that made the question “So do you have any tattoos in naughty places” sound both charming and intelligent. For him it was shooting fish in a barrel. In fact if people had responded to him growing up in London the same way they did in Boston, he’d probably have as little personality as Artesia.
“Jack my man,” said Alex extending a hand. “How ya doing?”
Jack shook the hand. “Alex,” he replied. “Hello Artesia.”
“Hello Jack,” she replied with a slight smile. All cool poise and teasing that one.
“I see you’ve got enough spirits to supply the Red Russian Army,” Jack said to Alex. “So’d you get Felix to rob the bar?”
“Well I don’t think we have any spirits,” replied Alex. “But we’ve definitely got some beer if you’re interested.”
Jack started to explain what spirits were, then stopped himself from rising to Alex’s obvious joke. After a moment Alex had convinced Artesia to tell him about how she became a model. A story Jack had heard from her at least ten times before and seemed to contain even less interesting details than talk about the weather. Instead he looked over the balcony and breathed in the warm air. He wondered what the weather was like in London right at the moment as lines of music drifted out to him.
“Boston, you know we love you madly
Hear the crowd roar to your sound
Don’t blame us if we ever doubt you
You know we couldn’t live without you
Tessie, you are the only only only”
Jack looked down at the fountain below, now drifting from sunset to true shadow. Whoever had designed the old brownstone had ideas about elegance, of that there was no doubt. He suspected the apartments used to be much larger, having been subdivided since. The complex from above looked like a hollow rectangle. The short sides holding the stairways and the long sides having three apartments each. Two floors above ground and one partially underground, called “garden level” apartments. Adding to a total of eighteen apartments.
In a curiously claustrophobic, or possibly paranoid design, the Brownstone had no outer windows. The hallways went along the outside of the building, with all the windows and balconies facing the courtyard. The sheltered courtyard itself featured somewhat overgrown grass with marble benches and the small fountain in the middle.
The whole thing spoke of a place built for the rich and secluded, and now decayed to simple dwellings for the lower classes. The kind of transition that seemed to happen so much faster in America than where Jack came from. Still, the faded glory aspect of it reminded him of home and he liked it.
He heard the door open through the noise of the party. He turned to see his neighbors Terra Muse and Jeanie Patrice walk in. He smiled and waved at Terra, who over the last couple months he’d become pretty good friends with. She was holding Jeanie’s two and a half year old son in one arm, and waved at Jack with her free hand. He left Alex and Artesia on the balcony to go over and say hi, something he wouldn’t have done if Terra was a girl he was trying to impress. No, with a girl like that you played aloof at first. But since Terra was just a friend he didn’t have to play all the stupid games he was so good at.
“Hi,” Jack said to all three at once.
“Hey Jack,” said Jeanie as she moved off towards the ice bucket of beers.
“Hi,” said Terra.
“Hi Jacky,” said the little boy, Billy.
“Hi Beanie,” said Jack, which for no reason Jack could remember they all called him.
Billy reached out his arms for Jack to carry him, which Jack did. He smiled up at Jack. Billy had recently fallen and knocked out the only two front teeth on the left side of his mouth, leaving a silly smile that had teeth on the right side only.
Jack figured that if this party went like others, in a couple hours Billy would be asleep in the bedroom on a pile of coats. Or if Jeanie got too drunk too fast, he would be carried home to his own bed, along with Jeanie.
Collin watched from the other side of the room as Jack walked by him to say hi to Terra. He couldn’t quite figure out what the deal was with those two. Alex said they were sleeping together, but Alex thought everyone was sleeping together. Based on the type Jack seemed to go for, Collin didn’t think so. Jack basically homed in on whoever was the hot
test girl in the room. And though there was no doubt that she was a cool girl, Terra Muse could pretty rarely be considered the hottest girl in the room. Not that she was particularly bad looking. Only a bit overweight, but with the unfortunate genes that put the curves in the wrong places. Shoulder length dark hair, nice skin. A face that Collin thought a Victorian era author might have called “handsome.”
No, definitely not Jack’s type. Collin thought it more likely that Jack was just one of those guys who genuinely liked and could be friends with women whether he was sleeping with them or not. Or maybe Jack just felt like he was going crazy from too much time with beautiful women.
God knows I can sympathize, Collin thought as he looked at Noel’s pale blue eyes.
Alex wandered inside to talk to the two of them, abandoning Artesia to her fate of listening to Sam’s clumsy attempts to impress her with his knowledge of fine wine while Shayna steamed in the background. Alex was singing along with the rock ’n’ roll Irish lyrics of the music. His voice was an octave too low, but having spent time as the lead singer in a band he wasn’t half bad at it. And with a few drinks in him, he wasn’t a bit shy about it.
“Up in the morn’, here comes the day,
God knows I hate it this way
When I’m in the casket life
fighting the wife, neglecting the kids
spending time on ridiculous bids
The four walls are closing in”
“Collin my man,” said Alex. “How ya doin’, I think it’s about time you had another drink. We shoulda barbequed for this little shindig.”
“Too bad about the landlord’s balcony being across the way, and you being cited by him for illegal use of a barbeque about four times now.”