by R A Baxter
“I say we think about it and give you our answers later,” Marina said.
Lynch sneered at her and then smiled. “Fine. Think on it, but I want your answers before the evening meal. Any longer than that and I’ll have to rethink the two-thousand-dollar bonus.” He jabbed his cane at the ground and walked away. Fenton and Derek followed a few paces behind him.
Damien grabbed a chair and sat by Katie. “Now you won’t have to go alone. The whole team will be there.”
Damien and Katie moved to a table on the far side of the eating area. Jack couldn’t stop watching them. Katie laughed at something Damien said and Jack looked away and stood up, suddenly realizing only Taylor and Ming remained with him. Jack tucked his I.D. badge into his pocket and motioned them to follow him.
Ming stuffed his I.D. in his pocket and followed Taylor and Jack to the open area in front of the lodge.
“It starts,” Jack said. He kept his voice quiet. “Lynch is desperate to assimilate us tonight. We need to commit to the escape plan—right now.”
“We need a new plan,” Ming said. “We can’t just abandon everyone here to be assimilated.”
“Or to die in the process,” Taylor said. “Ming’s right. We’re going to have to tell the others what’s going on. We all need to be out of here before the sun sets.”
“I’m with you,” Jack said, “but how are we going to do that with everyone wearing a bugged lanyard?” Jack looked over at Katie. “And I doubt we’ll have a chance to talk to Katie again today, with that doofus ogling over her every second.”
“Don’t ask me what she sees in that phony,” Taylor said. “The dude practically oozes with insincerity.”
“Maybe we can write up some notes,” Ming said.
“Perfect,” Taylor said. “We can write something concise and make sure they read it somewhere private and out of camera view. I’m not much of a wordsmith, though.”
“I can write the notes,” Ming said. “You guys just need to help me pass them around.”
“Just make sure no one else sees it,” Jack said. “And, to be honest, I think we need to steer clear of Tony and Carl. I don’t think we can trust them.”
“I agree,” Taylor said. “They both seem too happy with Montathena Research.”
“Let’s get to it then” Ming waved for Taylor and Jack to follow him. and started marching toward the cabin.
“You guys go ahead,” Jack said. “I want to check something out, first.”
Taylor gave him a nod. “Don’t be long.”
Jack walked past the main offices but stopped when he found himself surrounded by at least twenty strangers, each clad in camouflage and carrying rifles. He looked around for familiar faces, but didn’t find any until he noticed Lynch, Derek, and Mr. Murdock standing on the bridge in front of the entrance gates, welcoming the troops. The serious expressions on everyone’s faces did nothing to curb his anxiety. They were preparing for an all-out military conflict.
Jack zigzagged through the troops until he reached the tree line at the head of the trail leading down to the research facility. He’d always suspected that Farley had hidden his car keys somewhere there. The newcomers were paying no attention to him, which increased his hope that he might be able to search the building without anyone asking questions. He hiked down the trail.
He’d expected to find the usual security guards stationed in the lobby, but he saw no one. He walked farther into the building and found nobody in the computer room, then, peering down the blue stairs, saw no one there, either.
His mood brightened. Even if he didn’t locate his keys, perhaps he’d finally uncover a little evidence. He speed-walked down the corridor and tried every door, finding them all locked, except for the computer room and a small break room with a well-stocked refrigerator. He helped himself to an éclair.
Doubling back, he charged down the stairs and passed the lounge fireplace before entering one of the sleep labs. Judging by the stuffed bunnies, unicorns, and puppies—the posters of male pop stars and shelves stocked with cosmetic products—this was the girl’s lab. He guessed the boy’s lab was beyond the gray door on the far side of the girl’s sleep quarters.
Six queen-sized beds lined the beige carpeted floor, with intermittent warm, wooden nightstands. The homey décor, however, couldn’t quell the uneasiness Jack felt. Dozens of wires and inch-diameter black tubes coiled down to each bed from openings high on the back wall. A wide, mirrored-glass observation window dominated the wall opposite the beds.
“Nothing makes for a great night’s sleep like knowing some unseen stranger is staring at you all night,” Jack muttered to himself.
He pressed his face against the cool reflective glass and strained to see if anyone was watching him within the darkened observation room. His heart jumped when a door swung open behind him. A tall, slender woman in a white lab coat stepped in from a back room—Tamera, if he remembered right. She paid no attention to him as she crossed the sleep lab and lounge and dashed up the stairs in her black high-heeled shoes. Jack slid across the room and slammed his shoe against the edge of the back-room door before it could latch.
He winced, sensing the door edge slip from his foot and close. He yanked the door lever with his left hand, then clenched his right fist in victory when he learned that the lock hadn’t latched. He pulled open the door and slipped inside, then waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light of a long, concrete-walled hallway. He stared for several seconds, surprised at how far the building extended into the hillside.
Jack approached an open oak door and glanced inside someone’s luxury bedroom, complete with a king-sized bed, mahogany night table and dresser, ornate flowered lamps, and a flat-screen TV. The same black tubes he’d seen in the sleep lab converged in this room. They snaked down to several black plastic barrels from which emanated a throbbing, pumping wheeze.
He entered the room, unable to take his eyes off three glowing orange tubes, each as thick as his wrist. The tubes climbed down the wall behind the bed from an opening near the ceiling and glowing, reddish globs oozed up and down them, like long, narrow lava lamps. They converged on a headset resting on the nightstand. Other black tubes twisted from the headset to the barrels.
At first, Jack thought the bedclothes had been left in a pile along the center of the bed. Then he saw the woman lying there with her eyes closed tight, breathing erratically.
That’s Media, Jack thought. This must be her bedroom! What’s she got to do with these assimilations?
His stomach turned, thinking of her wearing that headset at night, with orange fluids flowing through it. Media tossed back and forth, wheezed, and began moaning. Jack backed out of the room and rushed down the hall and around a corner.
He entered a spacious, concrete-walled room with a prominent two-level black, metal staircase at its center. Electrical equipment dangled from the high, coffered-concrete ceiling. Jack wanted to find out where the orange tubes were coming from, so he opened the metal door of the adjacent room and found a cylindrical white electrical generator dominating the small rectangular space. He entered and eased past the generator, then unlocked a door on the far wall.
He peeked behind it and saw what he’d expected to see—the girl’s sleep lab. He closed the door without relocking it, thinking that if Lynch or Farley did force him to take the sleep lab, this door might be a means of escape. He looked up and saw the orange tubes drooping across the ceiling into sealed cylindrical sleeves that led into yet another room.
He ran to the next room but didn’t have to enter it. A wide window afforded a hazy view through thick, cold glass. Frost clung to the corners of the glass and smothered metal items within the room. The orange tubes sloped to three long, blue metal boxes that resembled caskets, except for long, narrow windows that ran along the sides.
Jack gasped and stepped back two steps with his heart beating double time. Human bodies lay inside the boxes. They couldn’t have been alive at the subzero temperatures, unless this wa
s some kind of cryogenic chamber. Each orange tube penetrated a box and attached to a black sleeve directly against the inhabitant’s head. Or, were they passing through their heads?
Jack staggered back and nearly toppled an old computer resting on a wheeled metal stand. Nausea welled up inside him. He didn’t care what those sleep studies were now. This was far beyond creepy. He suddenly remembered why he was there, rescued his otherwise useless cellphone from his pocket, and began taking videos of everything he’d seen so far.
Voices sounded nearby and he negotiated a maze of scattered tables and electronic equipment, then ducked behind the wire mesh guard rails of the black iron grating stairs. When the voices grew quiet, he decided to find out where the stairs led. If there was an exit up there, it had to be somewhere close to his cabin.
He rushed up the stairs, two steps at a time, and just evaded Damien and his father passing through the room below. Jack hugged the railing and held his breath until the men left the room, then dashed up the remaining steps. At the top, he encountered a narrow concrete passage, eight-feet-tall and lined with three metal ladders on each wall. He detected another line of ladders a few hundred yards down the hallway to his right. Name plaques affixed to the rough concrete next to each ladder read: Katie, Clara, Barbara, Alison, and Marina.
A sickly yellowish glow emanated from a ledge above him. He chose Katie’s ladder and climbed the eight feet, before peering over the ledge. A glowing yellow jar at the far end of a deep plywood compartment mesmerized him. Wires pierced the sides and top of the glass jar.
Jack stared into the dim casket-like space, his throat contracting, his breathing quickening, and his palms sweating. Half a minute passed before he forced himself into the shaft, determined not to give into his claustrophobia. A piano hinge that ran along the bottom of the panel at his right gave him some comfort, assuring him he could open the panel if his phobia became too intense.
The closer he inched toward the canister, the more it shook. A tube pumped thick yellow fluid into and out of the jar. Two hissing metal nozzles protruded from the lid. Jack arrived within inches of the jar when two large, glossy black eyes blinked out at him through transparent eyelids.
Jack gasped and slammed his head into the plywood ceiling. Some kind of bulbous, gelatinous creature flopped around within the yellow goo. Jack rubbed his head and fumbled for a latch at the top of the side panel. The board dropped, and cool air brushed against his face. He rolled out from the compartment and stood, looking around the girls’ cabin.
He’d emerged from below Katie’s mattress. Nozzles on top of the canisters sprayed something invisible directly at her pillow. He knew he’d have found the same thing below the other beds—below his own bed.
The canister rocked violently back and forth, and Jack figured the creature in the jar didn’t appreciate the light. Coming back to his senses, Jack filmed the jar, confident now that he had all the evidence he’d ever need. He turned to march out the door until he spied Derek talking with several newcomers outside. He couldn’t risk them catching him. He needed to hurry back to the research facility lounge.
Jack slid back under the bed, closed the side panel, and scooted out of the chamber. He climbed down the ladder, rushed along the concrete passage, and skipped down the stairs, all the time watching for staff members below. He intended to head down the hallway back to the lounge; Tamera, however, now stood talking to Media in her doorway. Jack ducked behind some computer equipment and headed in another direction, past the cryogenic room to another concrete corridor.
The soft rhythm of pop music echoed from a low-lit room at the end of the hallway. Jack entered it on the tips of his toes. Computer stations, tables, filing cabinets, and dozens of monitors filled the surveillance room. The extent of the spying exceeded Jack’s expectations. Specific beds in the north cabins had whole monitor screens dedicated to them. Even the restrooms were on screen. Other monitors indicated Heart (bpm), Eyes, Body, and Brain.
They’re already studying us as we sleep, Jack thought. Those labs have nothing to do with monitoring our sleep.
He filmed everything in the room but stopped when the monitor of Katie’s bed caught his eye. It occurred to him that her monitor had probably recorded him entering her cabin from under her bed. This was his chance to erase it. Jack ran to the mouse in front of Katie’s monitor and clicked on a box at the bottom left of the computer screen. He scrolled through a list of app icons until he found one that looked like a camcorder. He clicked on it and then meant to select a triangular arrow pointing left, that he expected would rewind the video. But in his haste, he clicked a square icon next to it and skipped a whole day.
He cursed and clicked the double right-pointing triangles, fast-forwarding the tape. He slowed it down a little when he spotted Katie entering her cabin with Marina and Clara, and then leaving with them moments later. He slowed it down again when he saw someone else enter the cabin.
What is that? His jaw dropped.
The four-foot-tall intruder hobbled like an ape and kept itself covered entirely below a dirty green tarp. Something on the stranger’s back created creases in the fabric along two long, thin ridges. The visitor shoved something under Katie’s pillow, briefly revealing its black, hairy hands, then it ran out the door.
Jack remembered the weird note Katie had given him. He could only imagine how terrified Katie would be if she knew what had actually left the message. He hardly believed it himself. He continued fast-forwarding the video until he saw Katie again returning to her cabin. He slowed the film and watched her reaction to the odd visitor’s message.
Approaching voices snapped Jack to action. He sped up the video to where he saw himself rolling out from under Katie’s bed, then Damien’s voice echoed from the hallway.
“We can review the tapes in here,” he said.
Jack searched the room. There was nowhere to hide.
Jack ducked behind a wooden table that left the lower half of his body exposed to view, then he stood and tried to squeeze next to a tall filing cabinet. His arms fell limp and he stepped forward and braced himself for a scolding. Then he noticed the ajar door to an adjacent room.
“I just wish you’d try harder to protect her!” Damien said. He shoved open the surveillance room door.
Jack dashed inside the darkened room and stooped down next to a wide wooden desk. He clenched his teeth when he realized he’d left the door half open.
“Do you think I like risking the life of my best friend’s daughter?” Fenton sat down. “The council has made its decision. It’s out of our hands.”
“I know that!” Damien pounded on a table. “I just don’t think they’re aware of the sway I have over her. She doesn’t need assimilating. She trusts me. I can convince her to join the Intershroud and train her myself.”
“I’m sure you could, but the council says she’s a risk. End of story.”
“What about the risk she’ll be taking? Are you prepared to tell Vance how you allowed his daughter to be killed?”
“She won’t be killed.”
“You don’t know that. Alison died less than an hour after her brain rejected the mind fogging.”
Jack gulped. His knees weakened, and he almost dropped his cellphone. He hoped it had enough battery left to record the rest of this conversation.
“Enough!” Fenton said. “Alison’s willpower was too strong. Farley never should’ve used the procedure on her. Our technology isn’t magic, I don’t care how powerful Media is. Katie will be fine. She doesn’t have Alison’s willpower. Vance and I have been breaking down her self-confidence for years.”
“It’s still too dangerous.”
“Which is why I sent you here to observe.”
Jack watched the men through the half-open door. He glimpsed the monitor to Katie’s cabin and his heart stopped. Over Damien’s shoulder, the screen showed Jack standing in Katie’s room videoing the canister under her bed, in slow motion. Damien’s father had only to notice it. Damie
n turned his head and Jack stifled a gasp.
“What are you doing in here?” Curtis Lynch thumped his cane on the vinyl floor and hobbled into the control room. “Is this how Farley runs his security? That imbecile is useless. Where is he?” Lynch leaned on a desk and shook his head.
“He’s sleeping,” Damien said. “He wanted to stay up for all the action tonight. Should I wake him? He’s in the office over there.”
Damien walked toward the room in which Jack was hiding. Jack looked to his right. Sure enough, Farley lay sprawled out on a cot only ten feet away. Had his eyes been open, he would’ve been staring directly at Jack. Jack held his breath and kneeled behind the desk. Damien stepped in and patted the wall in search of the light switch.
“Ah, let him sleep,” Lynch said. “He’s idiot enough when he’s not drowsy. Last thing we need is to give him excuses when he starts messing things up.”
Damien returned to the control room. “What did you need him for anyway?” He pulled up a chair and straddled it backwards.
“Mm, just wanted to inform him that his pathetic obsession with ghosts has riled everyone on the board. His activities tonight cannot interfere with the assimilations. Without exception, all members of the research team must be assimilated tonight.”
“We can’t do that!” Damien stood up. “That many people will overwhelm Media’s mind. Avard won’t allow it.”
“You are both to keep this from Avard and Media.” Lynch raised his cane and pointed it at Damien. “We failed to discover Sherry’s accomplice. We have no choice but to assume that any one of the team members could be guilty. We must immediately secure their loyalty to the Intershroud.”
“This is crazy,” Damien said. “We know Katie’s no spy, and Clara isn’t even all there in the head. I don’t know how she’s been resisting the dream inducers, but it’s clear that she’s stuck in some fantasy realm. Marina, Barbara, Ming, and Jack are clueless. We successfully controlled Jorge’s mind. Carl and Tony have already signed on. Taylor doesn’t even belong in the risk group. He’s no threat. You can’t tell me that these people are worth driving Media into total mindlessness.”