Stasis: A Will Vullerman Anthology

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Stasis: A Will Vullerman Anthology Page 12

by J. Tobias Buller


  “If you can call it living.” The man—Ty—removed his hood, revealing his face. He had strong cheekbones, a prominent nose, and a firm look to his face—maybe in his late twenties. His lips curved downward slightly. His shaggy brown hair hung over his ears. But his eyes were haunting—a dark amber, deep pools of sorrow and age. Full of fire, and emotion, and heaviness.

  Will shivered.

  “You'd certainly be dead if it weren't for me!” Jamin lifted the scanner a couple centimeters away from Will's stomach, and it beeped rhythmically. “Good, good,” he muttered, “vital signs normal.” He cleared his throat and raised his voice again. “I took you from your dead mother's arms. You were dying, boy! I used an infusion out of desperation. The last one—and it's just my luck that it was the only one that worked. Still haven't found the same formula, since your system digested it all. And your kiddo chemistry was all out of whack, so the formula wouldn't have worked on anyone else anyway.” He snorted. “I hope it gave you a stomachache.”

  “A heartache.”

  “Oh, don't start the emotional junk again. I've heard it all a thousand times, boy.” Jamin took one of the receptors from the scanner, raised Will's shirt, and pressed it on Will's chest. Will gritted his teeth and wished he could kick the man. He'd certainly deal with him, once he escaped. The fist of the law.

  But first, he had to find out whether there was anyone left to rescue when he did escape.

  “And my friend?” Will directed his gaze towards Ty. “What happened to my friend?”

  “He woke hours ago,” Ty said, quietly. “Jamin already took him. Chances are, you'll never see your friend again. And if you do see him, he won't be the man you once knew.”

  “Stop judging me, you two-faced idiot,” Jamin growled. “I can hear the accusations in your voice.”

  “Killing people to find your formula again will never stop being wrong.”

  Will clenched his fists and pulled at his manacles. “Then he's dead?”

  “No, no, the boy's a drama queen.” Jamin pulled out the receptor and pressed a button on the scanner. “He's not dead. Not yet, anyway.”

  Not yet? What did that mean? Will gritted his teeth and leaned as far forward as his chains allowed. “What did you do to—ow!” Will winced as Jamin pricked one of his fingers.

  “Stop squirming. It'll hurt less if you struggle less.” Jamin squinted at the scanner screen. “And as to your friend, well, he'll thank me if the infusion works.”

  Ty crossed his arms. “I never did.”

  “Then why do you stay?” Will kicked as hard as he could against his chains, causing Jamin to take a step back. He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. The scientist was jumpy—there was some fear in him yet, and that meant that he had a vulnerability somewhere. Then he glanced over at Ty. “Why do you stay when this man murders other people's friends and family?”

  “Because I want to be able to die of old age.” Ty leaned back against the wall, his head resting on the concrete. He didn't look at Will.

  “Now you've done it,” Jamin muttered under his breath, tapping on the screen of his scanner. “You've gone and made him speech at you.”

  Ty stared up at the ceiling. “Jamin is the only man that might be able to help me become mortal again. You can't imagine what my life is like. I can never fall in love—because I'll never put somebody else through the pain of growing old without me. Living here alone makes me feel empty, like I've forgotten something important, but I stay because I have to. Jamin, twisted as he is, is the only hope I've got.”

  Jamin snorted and knocked his cane against the box, ignoring Ty's passionate outburst. “Put some handcuffs on him, boy. I need to examine the spinal cord.”

  Will tensed. Then Jamin pulled out a stun rod with his free hand and made sure Will saw it. “No tricks.”

  Ty shrugged off his coat and tossed it aside. He bent down and dug through the box.

  Will's mind whirred. Think! How could he use this to his advantage? There was no way he'd be able to get out of the manacles, so his escape or something that could help his escape had to happen while he was free—or handcuffed. Hands behind his back.

  His back. That was it. He had an electro-utility knife in his back pocket. He pressed his back against the wall—he could feel the lump. Still there.

  But what would he do with it? He had already seen Ty's abilities—he was more than a match for Will, even when he was alone. But between Jamin and Ty, Will couldn't escape, not forcibly.

  Ty stood up, one pair of handcuffs in each hand. He tucked one in his pocket and pulled out a keyring.

  “Hurry it up, boy.” Jamin checked the scanner. “I've got thirty minutes till the bald guy's done cooking, and I've got to be there in ten to adjust the stabilizers.”

  Ty glanced up at Will. “You're a smart fellow,” he said, his voice quiet. “You realize that if you try to kick me once I free your legs, not only will Jamin give you a zap, but even if you did manage to knock us both out, you'd still be hanging here by your arms.”

  “Understood.” Will raised his chin. “No struggling.”

  “Excellent.” He unlocked Will's legs and handcuffed them together. Jamin grumbled, but stood back with the scanner in one hand and leaned on his cane with the other. Then Ty unlocked Will's hands and lowered him to the ground by his armpits. Will kept his gaze forward and gave no indication of any discomfort or that he would struggle. He had to keep up an innocent exterior as much as possible.

  Ty twisted Will's arms behind his back and handcuffed his wrists as well. Then he sat Will down on the floor, firmly, but without any extra force. Jamin hobbled over behind Will, and Will stared at his feet as the scanner beeped behind him. He could feel the slim electro-utility knife pressed against his knuckles through the fabric of his pants, but he couldn't use it. Not yet.

  “All right, that's enough.” Jamin limped forward and tossed the scanner back into the box. “Come with me, boy. Somebody's got to keep the pressure steady while I work the genetic stabilizers.”

  Ty looked sidelong at Will. “Should I hang him up there again?”

  Jamin dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “I've got to adjust the stabilizers in five minutes and it'll take my blamed leg three to get there. Leave him. He's not going anywhere, trussed up like that.”

  Will sat up a little bit. They weren't going to hang him up on the chains again?

  “But—“

  “No buts, boy! Carry the box.”

  Ty hefted the box onto his shoulder and exited the room. Jamin followed, pulling the door shut, and the lock clicked.

  Will waited a few moments and then dug his hand into his pocket. He caught the knife with one finger and pulled it out. He felt it for a few moments until he found the lockpick. Standard-issue ASP utility knife. Most of the locks were computer-oriented nowadays, but occasionally agents found themselves in more old-fashioned places.

  He worked the lockpick for a few moments, and with a click, the handcuffs opened. Will let them drop to the ground and went to work on his handcuffed feet.

  Once that was finished, he stood and stretched. It felt good to be standing again. Now he had to get out of this place.

  Will picked the door lock and opened it as quietly as he could. The rusty hinges screamed louder than a baby, but as soon as there was room for Will to get through, he slipped through the doorway and into the hall.

  It looked similar to the genetics facility: unpainted concrete walls and minimally glossed cement floors. There was definitely air-con in the rest of the facility. The air smelled more sterile and clean, and about five degrees colder. He turned left and headed down the hallway.

  Will came upon an open door. He halted, pressed his back against the wall, and peered inside. Empty. An old touch-computer was hanging on the wall, with hardware strewn about the room on sagging shelves and old, worn desks.

  Good. It looked like the sort of place where he might find some information—or at least a map of the facility so h
e could tell where he was going. Will stepped inside, turned on the light, and shut the door quietly behind him. He turned the lock.

  Then Will pressed the power button on the lower right-hand corner of the screen. The computer powered on, flashing the word “Welcome” before going to the home screen. No password or encryption, which was a relief, since Will's comm had been taken after he was knocked out. He guessed that the only people to ever come in this room were Ty and Jamin himself. No need for a password.

  He keyed in a command and the computer brought up a map of the facility according to the security system. There were more than a dozen rooms, including one large one at the center of the facility, with hallways between them like strands of a spiderweb.

  He pulled up the security system of the facility and frowned. “Odd,” he murmured aloud. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. The core security coding was a common software, but it had been custom-modified, adding an amalgam of old and new technologies. There were security cameras in nearly every room; if something new so much as moved, the security system would be alerted. So why hadn't Will been found out yet?

  Or had he?

  “Computer,” Will said, keeping his voice low, “find the security administrator.”

  “Administrator Designation: Ty,” the computer said. “Location processing.”

  Then it showed the map of the facility again. “TY” registered in bright red letters beside a moving dot. And the dot was moving towards the room designated “Tech”.

  Will gritted his teeth. Chances were, Ty already knew that Will had escaped, and was coming to recapture him.

  Think! What did he need to know before he was discovered again? How could he defeat Jamin? What was Jamin's vulnerability?

  Ty. Ty was Jamin's vulnerability. If it wasn't for Ty's cooperation, Jamin couldn't continue. So he held the possibility of mortality over Ty's head to keep him going.

  Will found his way to the database and typed in “Ty”.

  The screen read, “Search: 'Ty'. Search Results: 134.” The top result was a large file entitled “Ty: Annual Physiological and Psychological Report”. Will clicked on it.

  It opened up into a spreadsheet. Will furrowed his brow. Sixty-three. Sixty-three years of information on Ty.

  That meant that Ty had been down here with this madman for sixty-three years.

  Will went back to the main search and found other files on Ty, confirming his discovery: Ty was over seventy years old, but he acted like a normal human being. His internet history file—an automatically collected accumulation of internet data and trends—showed numerous downloads from Tchaikovsky to twenty-first century electronica to ancient TV shows.

  Then, on a security file, he found an anomaly. There was a program glitch—common enough, but the coding seemed familiar.

  Will blinked. It couldn't be.

  Then he heard the door latch. He whirled around to find Ty standing in the doorway, his gun centimeters from Will's chest. “Smart, how you got out of there.” Ty had his coat bunched up in his other hand; he tossed it to the side. “I tried to warn Jamin, but he doesn't like to be contradicted. Besides, it's not like your escape made a difference.”

  Will put his hands in the air. “Before you take me, let me ask you a question: did you know that Jamin has a hidden file on you?”

  Ty shook his head. “I think you're stalling.”

  “Then look at me, and tell me again that I'm stalling.” Will stared straight at Ty's face, his hands still raised in the air.

  Ty's brow furrowed. “You're mistaken. I know every single file that's present on this computer. Immortality doesn't only come with physical enhancements, you see. It changed my mind. I have a greater capacity for learning than anyone else on this planet. I can learn anything I want, and I learned about tech. Built the security system myself, even, and I saw by your browsing history that you checked it out. Impressed?”

  “Impressed.” Will glanced over at the computer. “So let me clarify. You know everything that that computer knows?”

  “Yes.”

  “But what if the computer itself doesn't know what files it has on it? What if there's a glitch...and what if there's a file hidden inside the glitch?”

  Ty frowned. “How would you know?”

  “Because I know something you don't. There's a certain type of encryption programming that was developed in America. It makes the file look like a glitch. I was the first one to find it.” Will lowered his hands. “And I saw that same encryption on the computer. Do you want to find out what's inside it? I have the data necessary to break the glitch in my comm's memory.”

  For a moment, Ty hesitated. Then he reached in his pocket with his free hand and drew out Will's comm. “No tricks.” He tossed the comm to Will. “This changes nothing. You're still coming with me after you open this file. Got it?”

  Will shrugged and caught the comm. “I don't have much of a choice, do I?”

  Ty gestured with the gun. “There's a comm port on the right side of the screen. Break the glitch and open the file.”

  Will connected the comm to the computer and accessed the programming memory. He selected one of the American files and used it on the computer glitch.

  The computer screen went blank for a moment, and then a video filled the screen. All it showed was a blank wall, and the computer said: “Date Stamp: June 16, 2124.” The video buffered for a moment...and then an image of Ty appeared. He looked younger, with his hair cut close to his head and his eyes a lighter brown.

  Ty lowered his gun, his eyes wide. “I don't remember this.”

  Then the video started:

  “I don't know what to call this,” the younger Ty said. “A journal entry, maybe. At least this video recorder Jamin gave me for my birthday is coming in handy somehow. Anyway, I'm in my room, and I'm leaving tonight. Jamin never said whether I was allowed to leave or not, but I'm...scared. I don't know what he'll do. But I'm scared that he'll find me again, if I try to go away.”

  The younger Ty paused, ran a hand through his hair. “He told me last year, about why I'm different. Why I'm smarter than everyone else and why I never get sick. People were starting to notice, so we moved into this old laboratory. But I hate it here. He said that it's my only chance of becoming normal, that maybe he'll find a way to make me human. But...” Ty closed his eyes. “I looked through his files last night. He thinks I read too much to be clever with tech, but he's wrong. I unencrypted a file he had on the possibility of reversing my...problem. I found out that it's impossible.”

  Ty's voice thickened, and he bit his lip. “If he gave me an infusion to make me mortal again, my cells would reproduce too quickly to take hold, and the mortal cells would die out. The only thing that can kill me is some sort of fatal violence or quick-reacting poison. My body would heal everything else. I can't ever become normal.”

  The video was interrupted by the sound of Ty's gun clattering to the floor, but Will couldn't tear his gaze away from the screen.

  Tears slid down the younger Ty's face. He sniffed, his breathing thick. “But what I'm trying to say is, I just want to record why I'm doing this. In case my body's ever found or something, if I die. Or maybe to remind the future me of why I ran away. I'll protect the file so that Jamin can't delete it.”

  Ty took in a deep breath. “I am Tyler Wayne Smith. I love music. I love stories. I love old TV shows. The only reason I ever stayed with Jamin was because I wanted to be normal. I shouldn't have even done that. He was turning me into something I don't want to be—he tried to make me a genius. I don't want to be a genius. I want to be a normal person who feels everything a normal person feels—sorrow and pain and joy and love. I want love, and I'll never find that here. You see, it's not what I am that makes me inhuman. It's what Jamin is turning me into.”

  The computer beeped. “Video ends.”

  Will's stomach twisted, and his heart was heavy in his chest.

  “I remember,” Ty said, his voice hoarse. He stared a
t the blank screen, tears streaking his cheeks and his hands limp at his side. “I remember now. I ran away. I was nearly to the surface when Jamin caught me. He gave me an infusion—temporary amnesia. And I never remembered.” He caught himself on the door frame, his knuckles white. “What have I done? What have I become?”

  “I'm sorry.” Will swallowed hard. “I'm really sorry.”

  “And look what I was about to do, what I've done all these years.” Ty took in a shuddering breath. “I was about to take you to Jamin, to allow him to kill you like he's killed dozens of others. What sort—what sort of a monster has he made me into?” He slid backwards against the wall to the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head in his hands. Silent sobs racked his frame.

  Then, something beeped. Ty dashed the tears from his cheeks with one hand, sitting upright. “That's my touchpad,” he muttered. “Jamin's still waiting.” He stood to his feet, keeping one hand on the wall. He wiped his face on his shirt. “Enough. We've got to get out. Even if there was a cure for my immortality, I should never have stayed here and allowed this to happen.”

  He stepped away from the wall and took in a deep breath. “There's an exit into the city, but we have to hurry. Jamin may look like he's crazy, but his mind is sharper than yours, and he can still hold a gun.”

  Will shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but as he did the ground rumbled, and Will felt a vibration in the floor.

  "What was that?" Ty staggered over to the computer and steadied himself on the wall. The vibration was stronger now, and an old comm slid off of a hard drive and clattered to the floor. He examined the computer screen and pulled up a line of numbers. “The reading shows massive vibration all over the facility—but how? It's almost like an—”

  “Earthquake,” Will said suddenly. “Above-ground, I had an alert on my comm. There's an earthquake that was supposed to happen in the next twenty-four hours.”

  “It's been at least that long.” Ty powered down the computer and snatched his coat off of the floor, scooping up his gun as well. “We've got to book it.”

 

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