The Darkness

by Matt Brennan

  My father touched that cabinet. With his skin. His hand might have rested right where my hand was at one point.

  Suddenly I thought of what that doctor said. That my blood had antibodies to fight off The Darkness. Which meant, maybe, if I could have just contracted it earlier, both my parents might be alive. Which meant that my father’s insistence on being the only one to go outside was the worst and only bad decision he ever made in his life.

  But I just didn’t buy it.

  It just seemed ridiculous to me that my body evolved a way to defeat the disease that virtually destroyed the entire planet. I’d been locked up in a bubble my whole life. A bad cold could have killed me, well in theory anyway!

  Besides, my father always told me that evolution took eons to make its changes. It just didn’t make sense. I wasn’t even convinced I had The Darkness in the first place.

  No one comes back from that—no one.

  I attached my dad’s computer to one of my screens and I began to reprogram it. I only had to change a few settings and recode a few macros to adapt it to my biosphere. The whole thing took about twenty minutes and I was back in control of my biosphere. It was a bit of a relief, but bittersweet. This CPU belonged to my father—I shouldn’t have had it.

  I felt dirty.

  I spun around and manually disconnected my CPU from the dish and powered it up. Nothing strange happened, the computer seems to go through a normal startup procedure and I’m left at the desktop. I don’t know what I was expecting, but that definitely wasn’t it. I assumed they’d have changed something so big that I would have noticed, but everything looked fine. I just knew I couldn’t be that lucky. People who could take over your computer so completely shouldn’t be thwarted by the simple act of powering down a CPU. So I started digging. I opened up the startup register and everything looked good at first. But then I discovered my hard drive was now partitioned into two drives. One I had access to, but the other I did not. In fact, I didn’t even know the name of this secret partition. The only reason I knew it was there was because I only had access to half of my memory and the other was hidden from view.

  Sadly, there was no other option, I had to re-image. I’d lose some files, but nothing irreplaceable. Besides, I had backups of my backups. So I took my external reimaging hard drive out of the lower drawer of my desk, shut down my CPU, plugged my reimaging hard drive in and powered it back up.

  Everything seemed to go as it was supposed to. My reimage drive took control of the startup and halted it. I selected re-image and hit the enter key and then all hell broke loose.

  I got a warning message that I did not have the necessary clearance to re-image the machine and a bunch of code started streaming through the screen. I’d never seen anything like it before, it moved so fast, it made me think of The Matrix movie. A message box popped up that said a foreign drive had been detected and the system was attempting purge it. So I killed the power; after all, I didn’t want my re-imaging drive voodooed.

  I decided the drive wasn’t worth the hassle, I had hundreds of them. So I stripped my machine and dumped the hard drive in the recycling shoot. Then I pulled a spare from my electronics storage closet. Well, I call it a closet, but it was really just a cheap white particleboard bookshelf with two doors. I hooked up the hard drive, plugged in my re-imaging drive, restarted the computer and hit re-image.

  I probably should have done this the first time, but I had no way of knowing what those guys did to my system while I was unconscious. Suddenly, the same code started streaming across my screen again and the same message about a foreign hard drive was detected as well. I pulled the new hard drive and killed the CPU.

  What the hell?

  That was a brand new hard drive, there was no way those bastards laid a finger on it. Then it hit me: they must have programmed a sentinel into the firmware. But how? I mean, if they rebooted, they would need to be here to reposition the satellite? Then I realized, they didn’t do anything, I did. By restarting the system, I must have launched all their code. That’s when the partition was set up and when the sentinel program was coded into one of the components.

  Smart.

  Which of course meant that the whole CPU was junk. I had to replace every component, because there’s just no telling where they hid that sentinel, if it even stayed in the same place. Which meant only one thing and it made me want to puke.

  I had to get my mom’s CPU if I was going to get back on the network.

  I spun around in my chair and leaned back, resting my head on the tall backrest. At least I didn’t have to setup the airlock again. My dad was pretty smart about that. He designed all of our biospheres with a central access point. That way only one airlock door needed to be installed and the filtration and fire suppression system altered. I wish I was half as smart as he was. That way, maybe I could’ve found the sentinel code and wipe it out. My dad taught me a lot about computers and he gave me an extensive library of books on things like systems administration and even software design. But I guess he thought I wouldn’t have any use for firmware programing. Besides, I always thought you needed special equipment to rewrite firmware.

  I stood up with my shoulders hunched and my head held low. When I grabbed the biosuit and pull it back on my hands were visibly shaking. I did remember to tuck a towel into my belt before I shuffled out of my biosphere.

  My mother’s death was so fast, it scared the hell out of me.

  So when she forbade me from going into her biosphere, like the coward I was, I didn’t put up a fight. She died totally alone. I wasn’t there for her at all. Nobody laid her down in bed or combed her hair away from her eyes or folded her arms in place on her chest.

  She would have been there for me, I’m sure. In fact, based on the fact that she offed herself, I’m sure she would have taken off her helmet and kissed my forehead.

  But as a result, I had absolutely no idea where she was in there. All I knew for sure was that I had killed the cameras and locked her door. Then, just like I did for Dad, I covered the glass up on the airlock door with a black sheet of plastic.

  In my defense, she was really convincing. She told me that the strain she had was different, faster, more virulent than any we had seen before. I knew she was just trying to scare me when she told me that but it worked. She died in just twelve hours. In fact, I couldn’t believe I was even considering going in there. But I didn’t see any other option. It would have taken me at least six months or more to build a new CPU from scratch. And in the end, I’m not entirely sure I even had all the parts I needed.

  And Ellie couldn’t wait six more hours, nevermind six months. I needed to get to her ASAP.

  I closed the airlock door behind me and lowered the locking mechanism into place. Then I punched in her security code. I heard her biosphere pressurize itself to the hall. I clutched the towel I grabbed when I left my room tightly. I needed it to clean the CPU before I wheeled it out. I didn’t want to lose part of my mom to the drain like I did with Dad.

  I might not be as smart as my father, but I rarely made the same mistake twice.

  The door opened and I felt the whoosh of air rush past me. I took a deep breath and made a solemn promise to be fast and respectful. No long walks down memory lane. After all, I grew up in this biosphere; I knew every nook and cranny.

  I grabbed the handle and pulled the door out at me. I stepped out of the way and then dashed inside and there she was, on the floor by the door to the bedroom.

  Not comfortably lying in her bed or even on the couch.

  I wasn’t that lucky.

  She was lying on the floor. Her face was in a dried up crusty puddle of what I can only assume is her own vomit. Her spine looked like it snapped from the convulsions, leaving her in an awkward position. And I might have been wrong, but it looked like she defecated herself before she died.

  I couldn’t get enough air.

  I was sucking in so hard and getting almost nothing into my lungs. I almost took my helmet off
in desperation. I couldn’t think. I tried to look away but my eyes were glued on her, soaking up every horrible detail. You know, that way I would be able to relive it over and over again in my nightmares for the rest of my life.

  She was definitely not an incorruptible.

  Her skin was almost translucent in some places and black in others. And through her matted hair, I could see that her scalp had turned a bluish-green color that was so disgusting I almost puked on the spot. Fortunately, she was lying on her stomach so I couldn’t see her face. I could only imagine what horror awaited me in those eyeless sockets and shrunken lips. Her skin looked like leather. My only solace was that the suit was protecting me from the smell.

  I was absolutely frozen in horror.

  I tried to convince myself, that I was in a different room. That the corpse on the floor wasn’t the woman who tucked me into bed every night and kissed me on my forehead. She wasn’t the woman who used to cuddle me when I was scared or who would kiss my bruises when I fell. I told myself that I could still remember her face and so the corpse that was before me just couldn’t have been her. That had to be a different person.

  But it didn’t work.

  The tears were streaming down my face and were blurring my vision, which was a relief. Through my fogged up visor and soggy vision I could just make out the CPU in the corner. Like my dad’s, it was in a stainless steel cabinet on wheels. So I collected what little courage I had left and slowly made my way over. I took the towel I’ve been clutching in my right hand and started to clear the dust off of the CPU in between sobs. I couldn’t bring myself to clean it as thoroughly as I would have liked, I just didn’t have the strength to stay there long enough to get it done. I had to get out. I summoned whatever willpower I had left, gently laid the towel on her desk and wheeled the unit into the hallway, slamming her door behind me.

  I leaned against the door and tried to forget what I just saw. But there was no way. There was just no way. Some things cannot be unseen.

  As I slid down the wall, sobbing, I tried to convince myself to go back in there. I wanted to pick her up off the floor, put her in her bed and cross her arms on her chest. At least throw a blanket over her. I know that I should have done that. That a good son would have, but I was just too terrified that I would flip her over and see her face, complete with empty soulless eye sockets—I just couldn’t bring myself to go back.

  I’m sorry, Mom. I just couldn’t do it.

  So, I did the only thing I could do. I relocked her door and started the decontamination protocol.

  I fell back to my knees. The sobs were so overwhelming, that I just couldn’t stay on my feet. I curled into a fetal position as the water pelted my biosuit. I wish I’d had the courage to do what needed to be done. I cursed myself for being so weak. When the disinfectant began coating me, I forced myself up. I had to let it cover my whole body. When the cold water kicked back on, I was a little calmer. I moved the CPU to the door and lifted the locking mechanism.

  Why did I listen to her?

  I should have gone in there and put her in bed. I should have covered her like she did for Dad. I should have done something. There’s no way he would have just left her lying on the floor.

  I sat on the floor and sobbed for over an hour. I would have stayed there for days, but stray thoughts of Ellie brought me to my feet.

  I wheeled the CPU into my room and connected my re-imaging hard drive to it, but I stopped short of starting it up. That hard drive was all I had left of my mother. All of her work was there and I hadn’t looked at it. No one had. There could be a journal. I couldn’t bring myself wipe it. For some reason I couldn’t understand, I needed to save what I could. I felt like I owed it to her after failing her when she died. I disconnected my re-imaging drive and started her computer up. I decided to migrate all her files to an external drive and then re-image her machine. As much as I would love to leave her machine exactly as it was, forever, I had to get my communication software on her computer and she wasn’t running the proper OS.

  I opened my desk and pulled out a spare external hard drive. Her home screen appeared and I plugged in an external drive. It would take several hours to copy her files. While I waited, I did my laundry, cleaned the dishes and even made my bed.

  Anything I could think of to keep my mind occupied.

  After the files transferred, I shut down her machine. Then I plugged in my re-imaging hard drive and rebooted. After I hit re-image, I walked into the hallway to break down the temporary airlock. It took about four hours to re-image, which would give me just enough time to tear it all down and take care of some other maintenance issues.

  I couldn’t just sit there. Sitting meant being drowned by guilt.

  * * *

  After my chores, I was amazed that I able to eat somehow. I had an apple, oatmeal with raisins, and a bowl of ramen noodles with an egg dropped in. It felt good to eat. It felt good to cook, too.

  After I cleaned up, I walked into my room to check see if the re-imaging was done and it was. I rebooted the CPU and my home screen appeared on the machine, which was the first thing today that had brought a smile to my face.

  I changed my admin password and beefed up my firewall. No outside queries would be able to get past my security measures now. Any attempt to break through, would trigger an alert and automatically cut the link.

  With a deep sigh, and a shaky hand, I connected my system to the dish and began searching for non-UNN satellites. I wanted to keep a low profile, and a non-UNN connection was just the thing. If I used a non-standard uplink, it might fool them. Even if it didn’t, it should take them a while before they notice my connection to the nexus. Which should have given me the time I needed to talk to Ellie. Or at least get word to her. I couldn’t risk reaching out to her directly; I knew they’d be looking for that.

  I’ve got to be smarter than them.

  My search found an old weather satellite that used to belong to the old Soviet Union. Most of them weren’t functioning, but I had used this one plenty of times. It had a much higher orbit, so the signal was a bit weaker, but I wouldn’t need much. I was just going to the Nexus, not gaming.

  I grabbed my goggles and put them on, but stopped short of pulling them over my eyes. Once I got connected to the satellite, I began to hack into the Nexus. Only UNN satellites are approved to access the Nexus, but when I didn’t want Ellie to know I was gaming (she got really weird about gaming too much) I went in through non-sanctioned satellites. I had a million pseudo accounts, but she had that whole network wired and knew every time I logged in anyway. She had no way to track hackers, not even the UNN could. So, for a bit of privacy, I learned how to do it. My buddy Zack taught me.

  It took me about ten minutes get on. Finally, I slid the goggles down and hit "Enter".

  CHAPTER NINE

  I wake up on the uncomfortable cot in Lyssa’s lair and lifted my head.

  My head movement was egged on because my brain didn’t feel as fuzzy as it did after Lyssa hit me. I know, really descriptive word, fuzzy. But honestly, that’s the only way I can describe the way it felt. Everything was slightly out of focus. And everywhere I looked, there was this shadowy spider-web haze on everything. So when I woke with clear vision and not even a smidgen of a headache, I take it as a good sign.

  Gently, I slide my legs over the side of the bed I’d been sleeping on and slowly sit up. I think for a second that the dizziness is going to overtake me again, but after experiencing only a few seconds of worrying lightheadedness, my mind clears and I feel fine. So, I stand up to test my sea legs and I’m amazed to find that for the first time in days I don’t feel like I’m standing with someone else’s feet under me.

  I stumble to the bathroom and relieve the pressure boiling over in my bladder and splash some cold water on my face. It feels so good, I strip and jump in the shower and wash away the last four days of sweat and boredom.

  When I walk out of the bathroom I see Lyssa sitting at the desk with all
the TVs and she’s staring at all the screens and tapping buttons. I stumble in her direction drying my hair with a damp towel and plop in the chair next to her. I’m still a little dizzy, but I can’t tell if my head is the cause or the extreme lack of exercise the last few days.

  “What are you doing out of bed?” she asks.

  I smile. “Oh, you worrying about me?”

  Without taking her eyes off the screens. “Not really, just wondering why you suddenly decided to stop being such a pansy.”

  I get a little defensive. “Right about the time the swelling began to go down on my head, after you brained me.”

  She smiles. “As you have no brain, it is not even remotely conceivable that I brained you.”

  I don’t know why I bother to try to banter with her; she is just way better at it than me.

  I suck.

  I look at the screens and in a lame attempt to change the subject. “What are you looking for?”

  She instantly rolls her eyes. “You see? No brains, I told you. I’m looking for the murdering psychopaths who were hunting us! What did you think I was doing, a bird study?”

  How do I keep walking into these things?

  “No I mean, where is this? I don’t recognize this place.”

  “It’s down river from the power plant. I’ve been scouring the cameras and I haven’t found a single sign of them. It’s got me really worried.”

  “Why?”

  Because you know, I wanted to know why.

  She rolled her eyes and spoke to me like a baby. “Because moron, if I can’t find them, I have no idea where they are. Which means they could be right outside that door and I wouldn’t know it.”

  “But if you can’t find them, couldn’t it also mean that they left?”

  “No, because I’d be able to find signs.”

  Now, I know I have her, “Maybe, but the blizzard might have covered all the signs they left.”

  She sighs, “I know, but that doesn’t make me feel any better. It just means they could be anywhere.”