Cultwick: The Wretched Dead

by J. Stone

  “I’ve come up with a solution to your problem,” Dr. Webber told Owen. “But I’m not sure what effect the next concoction will have on her.”

  “I don’t want her harmed, Garland,” Owen said. “This has been too much trouble to screw up now.”

  “Very well,” Dr. Webber replied. “Then I’ll need to experiment on another subject.”

  “Fine,” he replied. “Do whatever you need.”

  “I’ll need a mind that I’ve already augmented,” he continued. “Is there one you can spare?”

  Owen mulled over what the doctor had said and then said to the individual behind her, “Konstantine. Bring Gwen to the doctor.”

  “No,” she weakly said. “Don’t hurt Gwen.”

  The doctor leaned in close to her and whispered, “Time to go to sleep again.” He twisted a knob that connected to a tube leading into her arm, and a clear fluid flowed into her. Things went dark for her yet again.

  She awoke to a strange squishing sound not far in front of her. Opening her eyes, she took in the sight of Dr. Webber leaning over a silver slab of a table. On the table was the naked body of someone face down and motionless. The doctor had opened their head at the base of the neck and was carelessly digging through the contents of their skull.

  As the disturbing image came into focus, and Isabelle looked closer at the scene, she realized that the doctor was carving into Gwen’s head. Layers of flesh on the back of her head were peeled back, and a section of bone had been removed from her skull; so that Isabelle could see the moist, pink brain behind it. The entire event felt surreal, and she wondered and even hoped that it was all part of a dream, but despite her desire to do so, she could not wake.

  Turning and facing her, Dr. Webber saw that she was conscious and asked, “Ah, awake again are we?” With a wicked smile curling across his lips he noted, “You seem to be a bit horrified. Is something the matter?”

  “What have ya done to Gwen?” she asked. “Is she still alive?”

  “For the moment,” he replied. “I’m afraid I needed another subject that had undergone the same process as you.”

  Isabelle didn’t understand what he meant by that, and the expression on her face indicated as much to the doctor.

  “You didn’t realize?” he asked. “We programmed her mind in the same way, as we did yours. All those memories you think you have? Not real. Isabelle isn’t even your real name. That’s just something Sloan came up with. We weren’t sure how well you would take to it, frankly, and he didn’t want to hire an actor to play the part of your maid, so we instead reprogrammed her with a memory set that would match your own.”

  “Why are ya doin’ this?” she asked.

  “Well, personally, I don’t have anything against you,” he explained. “For me, it’s either this, or a slow and exceedingly painful death. Sloan is the one doing this to you.”

  “I thought… isn’t he my husband?” she asked.

  Webber allowed himself a quick guffaw before answering, “I’m afraid not. He is merely smitten with you, though I can’t imagine why... He had me change so much about you that I’m not sure what he was attracted to at all. Purged your memories, changed the affectation to your speech, burned the tattoos from your skin… we even dyed your hair. After you spurned his advances, I suppose this was the only option he had left. With a man like him… well, he’s not the type to be crossed frankly.”

  “Who am I then?” she asked desperately.

  “A terrorist or traitor would likely be the most accurate descriptions,” he replied, focusing his efforts once again on Gwen.

  “Terrorist?” she questioned him. “What have I done?”

  “You tried to destroy Cultwick,” he explained with a frustrated expression spreading across his face.

  “Destroy it?” she asked. “How?”

  “You and that damn heretic exposed government secrets,” he said, raising his voice.

  Growing tired of his vague responses, she inquired, “What secrets are ya talkin’ ‘bout?”

  “The cure to the damn plague!” he yelled, slamming his fist into the operating table and glaring up at her. “My cure! Before that, I had unlimited government backing to perform whatever research I wanted! Now I have a warrant out for my arrest! If not for Sloan’s blackmail, I’d be dead already!”

  “I thought ya said ya didn’t have anythin’ against me,” she replied.

  “I’ve had enough of this,” he said, putting down his instruments and walking around the table toward her. “Time for you to go to sleep again.”

  He was about to lay his hand on the knob controlling the medical tube leading into her arm, when she felt yet another sharp prick at her wrist. She jerked in surprise when it happened, and the doctor noted her sudden contortion.

  Intrigued, he asked, “What was that?”

  “I dunno,” she answered. “Somethin’ on my wrist.”

  He inspected her arm, where there was a trail of blood dripping down and pooling on the chair’s armrest. He reached his hand out toward her and pushed aside her bracelet, revealing the source of the blood. The doctor gave her a baffled look and then unlatched the bracelet from her arm. He walked over to an adjustable lamp with a built-in magnifying glass, holding the jewelry underneath it.

  After a couple minutes, she saw that he had managed to find a hidden compartment in the bracelet and something else concealed inside. He laid down the piece of metal, inspecting the item inside it more closely. From where she was seated, she could not clearly see what he held in his hand, but she did see that same wicked smile creep across his face.

  “What is it?” she eventually forced herself to ask.

  “The foreign substance that has been preventing me from finishing my work on you,” he explained, holding up a small, glass tube. “Now I know why you’ve been resisting the programming, but without this, you’ll succumb to it just like everyone else.”

  Opening the vial, he took an eyedropper and extracted a bit of the fluid inside. He dropped it out onto a glass slide and slipped it under the magnifying glass on his worktable. After looking through it for a very short time, he pulled it out and applied another substance on top of it. Again, he looked through the lenses, but this time he lingered.

  Her heart raced, as she waited for some news of what would be happening next. She could not clearly remember who she was, but she knew that he would erase any chance of her ever remembering if he finished his work.

  Turning around with the sinister smile, he remarked, “Well, Anne… Pearl… Isabelle… whoever it is that you think you are right now, when you wake up… you won’t be you anymore. You’ll be whoever I say you are.”

  He stood up and walked toward her with another syringe in hand, and she instinctively recoiled from him. Dr. Webber placed his hand on the knob next to her and twisted it. The fluid began to again pour into her arm, as she started to feel woozy.

  Before lapsing into sleep, she asked, “What will happen to Gwen?”

  “Her?” he asked dismissively. “I don’t need her anymore.”

  Chapter 29. Rowland and the Cure

  Rowland awoke in the laboratory of his house wondering where he resided. He took in the dusty sight of his laboratory and eventually remembered that he had gone to his home in search of the formula that created Germ. Looking up at the chalkboard above him, the professor discerned that he had been writing out the formula when he collapsed. Beside him, lay an empty syringe of his homemade biojunk. The drug had left him feeling exhausted and weak, but he was able to stand, supporting himself against the board.

  Despite his best efforts to remember the remainder of the formula, the chalkboard still had a glaring hole preventing it from being anything useful. He recalled the many and varied memories that the biojunk had brought on, reminding him of both Germ and Erynn and the lives they had spent together. He was now poised to lose both if he could not extend Germ’s life through the formula and if he could not perfect his treatment of Erynn’s genotoxin.


  Frustrated with his failure, Rowland grabbed the side of the chalkboard and threw it forward, slamming it to the floor. Behind him, Germ and Olivia entered the laboratory and stared worriedly at the professor.

  “Is everything alright, sir?” the rat asked.

  “Yes,” Rowland replied cheerfully, hiding his disappointment. “The chalkboard and I were just having a little disagreement. I won.”

  “I see that, sir,” Germ noted. “Did you find whatever it was you needed from here?”

  Rowland motioned to the small work area he had set up on one of the tables and said, “Yes, I am ready to work over here. Were you two able to find a pure sample of the genotoxin for me to work with?”

  Olivia pulled from her pocket a small vial and explained, “The C.E.R. was nearly overrun with infected and corpsmen, but we managed to find this despite their fighting.”

  The professor took the genotoxin sample from Olivia and said, “That is good to hear. Now all I have to do is refine my treatment based on this. I think at least little Ryn will be just fine.”

  “That’s excellent, sir,” Germ said. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  Rowland was already busying himself with his work and appeared not to have heard the question. Olivia sat across the table from Germ, where the rat took out his ink and quill and began writing in his journal. Rowland, meanwhile, focused on inspecting the genotoxin and ultimately creating the cure. The professor took a dropper full of the genotoxin sample and placed it on a slide, covering it with another. He then retrieved his scope, placed the slides into the slot, and investigated the contents of the toxin.

  The scope showed him that the primary component was a substance known as a vertex deactivator and that it was disseminated through a viral binding agent. This told Rowland how the genotoxin was attacking Erynn, and he quickly began to brainstorm ideas on how to counteract its effects.

  The scope also revealed a tentative timeframe that the genotoxin would take and the symptoms it would cause on its inevitable path to death. First would come fever, abdominal pain, headaches, and nausea, which Erynn already had experienced. Next, it revealed that the toxin would attack the carrier by creating and growing malignant tumors throughout their body.

  Rowland realized that his treatment had not taken into account this second stage of the genotoxin, and that if she had already moved onto that stage, his treatment would have a lessened effect, perhaps not effectively curing her. He did, however, have the information that he needed, and he squirted some of the genotoxin into another vial. He mixed in several other components, including the treatment that Erynn had been taking.

  After allowing the chemicals to sit for a few moments, he walked the combination over to a centrifuge sitting in the corner of his lab. He placed a stopper on the tube, slid the vial inside the machine, and flipped the switch. When nothing happened, he recalled that the electricity had likely been turned off after they went on the run.

  “Germ?” he called out.

  “Sir?” the rat asked.

  “We do not have any power,” he stated. “Do we have any way to rectify this?”

  The rat stopped and thought for a moment, while Rowland stared dumbly at the powerless device hoping for it to magically start up again.

  “Didn’t Madam Clover come up with a way to generate power that was off the empire’s grid?” Germ asked.

  “That is right!” Rowland exclaimed.

  He quickly left the laboratory and headed down into Erynn’s basement room to find the device. It was still the mess that Tern had left it, from when Rowland had instructed the automaton to pick out clothes for Erynn. Her tools and chromesmithing supplies were situated in a disorganized fashion on a workbench, and schematics of various constructs and machines were plastered on the walls. Rooting around through her things, he eventually found a small, metallic object that looked similar to a wall-mounted pencil sharpener.

  Rather than return to the laboratory, Rowland went to the second floor level. He still was unsure what to do about Germ’s failing health, and he knew of one way to give him more time. When he was much younger, Rowland had created a serum that would be capable of giving him the time he would need to save Germ, but the professor didn’t fully understand how it worked or how to reverse it. Using such a creation would have to be saved for a last resort. He stepped into his closet, pushing in on the back panel. It was revealed to be a false wall, and he slid the panel to the side, allowing him to access a locked box. Swirling in the combination, Rowland popped open the lid and pulled out what looked like a silver thermos. He slid the object into one of his coat’s inside pockets and slid the panel back into place.

  Running back downstairs and rejoining Olivia and Germ, Rowland plugged Erynn’s device into the centrifuge and said, “Come turn this rotor.”

  Olivia obliged him, turning the handle on the device. “Like this?” she asked.

  “Yes…” he said watching the centrifuge. “Yes, that appears to be doing it.”

  The medical device began to spin the vial around, mixing the fluid together, as Olivia powered it with the handheld device. As the vial spun around, Rowland could see the color of the liquid slowly change to a bright orange that almost seemed to glow.

  “How long will this take?” she asked.

  “I am not baking cupcakes here,” he replied. “It could take hours to... oh. Finished. That should be enough, dear.”

  Olivia stopped turning the handle of the device, and after the centrifuge powered down, Rowland retrieved the serum from the machine and pulled the lid off its top. He then slid a syringe needle into the mixture and extracted a small amount. He did the same to the remaining supply of the genotoxin sample. On a new glass slide, he squirted both of the mixtures, mixing them together, and then he covered them with another slide.

  Pushing out the pure genotoxin slide and tossing it aside, Rowland inserted the cured genotoxin sample into the scope to see its effects. It correctly read out the various ingredients, as he expected, and then began to hypothesize about its effects. To his satisfaction, the device’s output indicated that imbibing the substance would be innocuous, meaning that his cure would destroy the genotoxin.

  To prove that hypothesis, however, he knew he would have to test it. Rather than make Erynn the first recipient, he decided that the rats he had injected with the toxin could prove useful. Rowland pulled one of the infected rats out of its cage and injected it with the serum he had concocted. He then placed it gently back down on the table and watched for an effect. Over the past several days, it had grown tired and despondent, had a lack of appetite, and was even beginning to have issues seeing. As the cure began to flow through the rodent’s system, however, the rat quickly began to move around more.

  Rowland fished out a piece of cheese that had been sitting unattended in the cage for some time and laid it in front of the rat. Timidly, the rat inspected the cheese, sniffing at it unenthusiastically, but eventually it took a bite. After allowing the rat to finish its cheese, the professor took another syringe and stuck it into the rat, drawing some of its blood. He examined this sample under the lens of the scope as well, confirming his success in purging the rat of the genotoxin. He injected the other rats as well, and their condition too immediately began to improve.

  “Excellent,” Rowland exclaimed. “One cure down…”

  “What’s that, sir?” Germ asked.

  “Nothing,” he replied. “Now we just need to get this cure to Ryn before the tumors grow out of control.”

  “How are we supposed to do that?” Olivia asked. “She just ran off after we made it past the checkpoint.”

  “Oh, that will not be a problem,” Rowland said. “Many years ago, I placed a tracking device in her bloodstream.”

  “You put a tracking device in her, sir?” Germ asked, abashed.

  “Of course,” he replied. “With her being a child, I expected she would wander off. It seemed far easier to put a foreign device in her than to al
ways keep an eye on her. I am just surprised I have not had to use it before.”

  “I know I shouldn’t ask this, sir,” Germ began, “but did you put one in me too?”

  Rowland looked back at Germ for a moment, then averted his eyes and said, “Do not be ridiculous.”

  Germ sighed, rubbing his brow, “How do we use this tracking device, sir?”

  “Somewhere around here...” the professor said, trailing off.

  Germ and Olivia exchanged confused glances, waiting for Rowland to continue, but he simply began looking through cabinets and drawers instead. He frantically tossed things aside, throwing beakers and syringes to the ground and causing Germ and Olivia to flinch as each shattered. Eventually, however, he reached into a cabinet pulling out a small, mechanical device. It had a discolored silver tint and was in the shape of a rectangle with a pair of rods extending outward ending in bulky round knobs.

  He held the device to his ear, attempting to listen, but heard nothing. He shook it violently, tapped it on the counter, and then held it to his ear again. Still nothing. Flipping the device over, he opened the case revealing a pair of tubular batteries oozing a brown, syrupy substance.

  “Egh,” he said, wiping some of the ooze from his fingers onto his pants. Turning around, he said, “I think the batteries are tapped.”

  “What kind?” Olivia asked him.

  “Uh,” he groaned attempting to focus on the small writing on the tubes. “If I had my glasses... Here, Germ, you read it.”

  Rowland handed the device to Germ, and he inspected the writing. “Looks like they are micro gauge,” he said, reading the text through his monocle. “Did you keep any in the lab here, sir?”

  “I... do not recall...” Rowland replied slowly, looking around the room, as though it were unfamiliar to him.

  “I’ve got a couple spare back on the Halcyon,” Olivia said, helpfully.