by W D County
I do not pursue you. I desire to understand you.
Again, she roused herself. The room looked empty but didn’t feel empty. You are the taint, she thought.
Yes. The voice possessed neither pitch nor timbre.
What are you? Why are you here? What happened to Barry? What are you doing to us?
Fear drives your questions.
“Because you’re a threat,” she said aloud.
You are mistaken.
Oddly, she didn’t feel afraid. “Show yourself.”
A memory of the tesseract pushed into her consciousness. Now she felt a tingle of fear, carried by the intricate patterns of color that seemed determined to infiltrate her mind. She moved her hands together so that one finger hovered above the trigger of the Pavlok.
You desire to solve the riddle of my existence, yet you run from the revelation. That makes you a puzzle. Rather fitting, is it not, that even in such a standoff I remain a faithful mirror?
“A mirror?” Yes, it made sense. A little. “What will you do with this knowledge of us?”
I am constrained to gather and share knowledge.
Zita sensed the taint had more it could say, but had chosen not to do so. “But we can act on whatever knowledge... and abilities... we obtain through you?”
Correct.
“Barry thinks he’s God.”
No, Barry thinks he is divine, and believes God surrounds and protects him.
“What are you?”
Whatever you believe me to be.
A mirror, thought Zita. “You’re a puzzle, too. I’ve known that from the start.”
Of course. All superimposed quantum outcomes are puzzles.
Her mental image of the tesseract seemed to be symbolic of puzzles. Puzzles were meant to be solved, but this one had consequences for failure. She studied the possibilities.
“What next?”
That, Zita Ferrari, is the question, the answer, and the danger. The Awareness withdrew. Sleep flooded the void in Zita’s mind.
***
Miles fell asleep in the security office chair, still facing the array of monitors. He dreamt of being at the helm of a Viking longboat sailing through a treacherous channel. There were landmarks to guide boats such as his, but such markers remained invisible in the heavy fog that turned water, sky, and land into featureless gray.
Where are you?
The words could have been a siren’s call, luring him to certain doom. More likely the words were his own silent cry to find the passage to Greenland, a mythical place of peace and plenty. So great was his desire to find the markers, that he stared into the swirling shades of non-color whose constantly shifting patterns threatened his mind with an almost hypnotic grip.
A red rock pillar jetting from the sea would point toward their destination. A similar brown rock led to a frightful land of poverty, crime, and despair. Miles cursed when the vague outlines of the two pillars appeared off the starboard bow. Their colors were indeterminate in the fog at this distance, and he dare not approach any nearer, knowing that jagged rocks lurked just under the surface. They would sink his boat, leaving all aboard to drown.
Nor could he linger here, waiting for the fog to burn off. The body of a dying woman lay in the hold of this ship. Only the medicine and magic of Greenland could save her.
He pulled hard on the rudder and steered the ship to port, following the path indicated by the leftmost rock. Neither current nor wind hindered their passage, but neither did they help. The stout muscled bodies of the crew set oars to water in synchronized dips, and the boat sliced through the mist-covered sea.
The fog cleared and the coast became visible. He marked well the landmarks as they searched for safe harbor. He found one and noted that a good-size town had grown up around it. He landed the boat, picked up the dying lady, and carried her into town, knowing she’d be safe.
Heated words and dark curses escaped from a nearby house. A woman’s wails pierced the air. The sounds of fighting came from a tavern. Drunkards lined the streets. Ruffians stood in the shadows, watching with greedy, glittering eyes.
The girl in his arms opened her eyes. “Sometimes the place you need to be is far from the place you want.” She shuddered and died. He felt the life depart from her body.
I’m too late.
I’ve failed. All because I can’t see color.
He felt weak. Helpless. And the denizens of that world sensed it. They approached, bearing knives, clubs, and broken bottles with jagged edges.
He dropped the dead body into a ditch from which her sightless eyes stared accusingly. He reached for his guns. He had none. He had no knife. No sword. No weapon of any kind. He felt the eyes of the town upon him, an ambivalent intelligence intent on watching him die.
He jerked up from the bed, fully awake, and seized the gun on his nightstand. The sense of unease drifted away, but it was a long time before sleep returned.
Chapter 45
Zita woke instantly at the click of the door lock, acutely aware (and hating it) of being handcuffed to the bed. Miles entered and eased the door closed.
“Morning, Zita.”
She rattled the chain. “Get these things off.” The anger in her voice surprised her. And Miles, judging from the raised eyebrow. No wonder, since the restraints were her idea. She blamed her mood on the weird dream. If it was a dream. “Sorry. Didn’t sleep well.”
“Me neither. Bad dream?” He removed the cuffs and stuffed them into a pouch on his utility belt.
She nodded. “Only I don’t think it was a dream.”
“Nathan doing his mind-reading thing?”
“No. Not Nathan. Not Barry, either.”
“The taint? Block it out, Zita. That shit is pure trouble.”
Because you can’t see it. She rubbed her wrists without responding.
“Can you cover KP duty for me? I need to patrol the observation room, then wait in the security office for the Rangers.”
“Sure,” she said without enthusiasm. He had a timetable and couldn’t delay, but it left her without someone to help her process the visit from the taint. She’d accepted the experience was more than a dream.
Miles left, leaving her feeling guilty for being so snappy, and angry that he’d left without asking what was bothering her. Why did relationships have to be so emotionally tangled? Her fast-paced thoughts skidded to a halt. Did she have a relationship with Miles? Did she want one?
She showered, dressed, and checked the charge on the Pavlok. Acting on a premonition, she stashed a special pair of handcuffs under her top hat. Although fully functional, the cuffs lacked a key. Even Houdini couldn’t escape from these without knowing the trick.
She arrived at the mess hall before anyone else and started preparing coffee, toast, and eggs for the team. Gordon arrived ten minutes later. Doc and Sonja showed up next, followed by Laura and John. Nathan showed up last, at 6:40. The three vacant-eyed explorers shuffled in with him. They wore sidearms.
She turned to Gordon. “What’s going on?”
He beamed. “Another success story. The explorers respond well to Nathan’s mental commands. They can augment Miles.”
She almost blurted out that Army Rangers were on the way because the explorers had appeared, but Miles hadn’t shared that information with Gordon, and keeping that secret until the troops arrived seemed prudent, since she didn’t trust him.
“Miles doesn’t trust the explorers,” she said. She glanced at Nathan. “Neither do I.” She didn’t trust anyone in the room.
Gordon said, “If you’re expecting a squad of soldiers to show up, prepare for a disappointment. I had Hauser’s order overridden.”
A rush of concern heated her face, and Gordon’s smile said he’d seen it. Something in his eyes told her he didn’t trust anyone on the team, either. He turned away to address the group.
“Today is a special day. The bulk of our research is done. Wrap up the loose ends this morning and we’ll broadcast a little demonstrati
on of what we’ve learned. After that you have time to draft a report of your major findings. You’ll sleep in your own beds tonight.”
“But we know next to nothing about the taint!” Zita looked around the table for support and found none.
Sonja said, “I have addressed the minor inaccuracies in my theory, and I’ve built a portable prototype permeation projector in the lab. It’s ready for testing.” She glanced at Gordon. “I’ll need to examine Barry beforehand to determine how the current taint pattern will affect the K-rays.”
Gordon nodded amiably. “Go do it now.”
Doc said, “Once this is over, I’ll need to continue my study of the explorers. Their, ah, unique mental state could provide insight into treatment of stroke, epilepsy, coma, and Alzheimer’s.” He sounded more resigned than happy. Was he hiding something?
“That can be arranged,” Gordon said.
“I’ve mastered telepathy and telekinesis,” Nathan said. “It’s enough to prove paranormal abilities are real, and they don’t require Barry to work. I’m done with training wheels.”
Dependency? Training wheels? Zita’s sense of strangeness worsened. “Gordon, what do you have planned for Barry?”
“I’m addressing the concerns that you and Sergeant Miles raise repeatedly. The potential threat of the taint needs to end. We have no choice but to terminate Barry. Humanely, of course.”
Laura jumped to her feet. “No! I won’t let you.”
John took her hand. “Sit down, dear. You’re making a scene.”
She pulled her hand away. “Barry can’t be killed.”
“Yes, he can,” Nathan said.
“I mean he shouldn’t be killed. It’s wrong. We need him.”
Gordon said, “Your own observations document Barry’s growing paranoia and megalomania. We’ve all seen the increase in his almost superhuman powers. It’s a combination we can’t allow to worsen.”
John said, “Are you sure there’s no other way?”
Gordon nodded. John turned to Laura. “I’m sorry, but he’s right. We can’t risk your whole world just so we can be together.”
Sonja said, “Miles is trained to kill. He won’t have any hesitation or remorse at doing what’s necessary.”
She’s probably correct about that, thought Zita, but it doesn’t make it right. In fact, killing Barry feels like a dangerous mistake. An odd echo in her mind resonated agreement.
Gordon looked around. “Speaking of Miles, where is he?” His gaze settled on Zita.
She shrugged. “Making rounds, I suppose.”
He nodded to Nathan, who rose and left the mess hall. The silent explorers followed like ducklings chasing their mother. When Zita started to follow, Doc blocked the way. Zita spun on Gordon. “What are your goons going to do to Miles?”
Laura said, “I’d like to know too, Gordon. Your people are acting like a lynch mob instead of a research team.”
Doc stared at the floor. “It’s for the best, Laura.”
John added, “The good of the many.”
“Miles won’t be hurt,” Gordon said to Zita. “He’ll get to do what he’s been itching to do all along.”
“Nobody’s acting normal. You’re following a script. Whose? Yours? Nathan’s? Barry’s? Tear it up. There’s no hurry because the taint won’t grow while Barry’s kept in the dark, and the delay will give me time to finish translating the taint’s language since I already have many of the fundamental building blocks, all of which so far indicate a lack of hostile intent.”
“Relax, Ms. Ferrari. Everyone will get what they want.”
Which was exactly what she feared.
***
It took longer than usual to tour the observation room because I decided to change the combination on the vault airlock. I hadn’t received orders to do that, but I hadn’t been ordered not to do it. A soldier has to take some initiative when survival of the team and completion of the mission are at stake. The new combination made me the sole gatekeeper for access to Choirboy. Interior cameras showed the room remained dark. The infrared camera showed him sitting cross-legged on the bed. Or maybe above it. I wasn’t going inside to confirm or deny.
The Rangers were due in ten minutes. I jogged to the security office, passing Brainiac in the hall. The first thing I did in the office was open the main electric panel for the facility and trip the breaker for the main lights inside the vault, ensuring neither Brainiac nor anyone else could collude with Choirboy should he manage to bite himself and feed the taint with his own blood.
The surveillance monitors showed the rest of the team gathered in the mess hall, along with Revenant and the three zombies. Damnation. Who let the dogs out?
I rewound the video for the hallway and watched Slick release them while I was in the observation room. The poor mindless fucks shuffled after him with vacant stares and wrinkled clothes. And belts. With holsters. Oh, fuck no. Zombies with sidearms.
I backed up the video by thirty minutes and then fast forwarded until I saw Slick emerge from his room less than a minute after I passed his room on my way to the observation room. He ran to the security office and tapped in the code. How the hell did he get the code? He came out two minutes later carrying holsters and .45s, which he took to the zombies’ rooms.
A check of the armory confirmed that three handguns and a box of shells were missing. I called Hauser’s number, concerned that the Rangers could be walking into an ambush.
The colonel didn’t answer. The clock said 0715. Where the hell were the troops?
The real-time monitor showed Slick and his gang outside the security door. I looked up as the lock clicked and Slick pushed through.
I didn’t care what happened to me—but no way in hell was Slick going to spring Choirboy. I lunged for the set of vault kill switches, flipped open the cover, and—froze.
My finger hovered over the incineration switch, but I couldn’t depress it. Couldn’t move my hands, arms, or legs. Invisible concrete encased my body.
Slick chuckled.
I could still talk. “Listen to me, Nathan. Barry has you under a spell. Fight it.”
The chuckle swelled to outright laughter. When it subsided, Slick said, “Barry’s a pain in the ass. I have no problem with you killing him. It’s the timing you have wrong.”
What the fuck?
Slick stepped aside as the three zombies entered. “Disarm him and bring him along.”
The goons did as he ordered. As they dragged me down the hall, I regained partial control of my body, but the iron-like grips of two zombies pinned my arms, and a steel gun barrel pressed into the small of my back.
Slick opened the door to a residential room and his goons handcuffed my wrists to the rail at the head of the bed, much as I had done to Zita previously. They removed my boots and cuffed each ankle to the bed rail. I hated restraints as much as or more than Zita. A B&D romance definitely wasn’t in our future. In fact, our future looked bleak. And short.
Slick and his three amigos left. The door clicked as an override key card locked out any would-be rescuers, and locked me in even if I managed to ditch the cuffs. I pulled, jerked, and twisted on the chains until my wrists bled. Yeah, things were pretty damn bleak.
Chapter 46
Nathan and his zombie honor guard returned to the mess hall alone, upping Zita’s anxiety notch. “What have you done with Miles?”
Nathan lifted his hands, palms out. “He’s fine. Merely confined temporarily.”
“I want to see for myself.” She stepped toward the door.
Gordon seized her arm. “You’ll see him soon enough. Right now, we’re all going to the observation room.” He handed her off to Nathan and led the team out of the room.
Nathan leaned close and whispered, “What do you see in Miles anyway?”
She bit back a retort, opting for a different strategy. She sighed wistfully. “I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.”
“Really?”
She felt his mind trying to infiltra
te her thoughts. She could keep him out, but that would only increase his suspicions. She needed him to be at ease. Vanity should work, especially with a hint of sex. “Okay. He’s strong, dark, and handsome. Super macho. But that hasn’t done him any good, has it? I need to face reality. Barry and the taint are the source of real power, and it’s clear that Miles will get none of it.”
“Who do you think will get the lion’s share of that power?”
He’s so obvious. She shifted her eyes left and right and lowered her voice. “You. Oh, the others get something—a device, a healing potion, a promotion, a resurrected husband. But your reward is internal. Supernatural powers. In ancient times people would worship you as a god.”
Nathan grinned. “Not just ancient times, Zita. When Barry leaves us, I’ll fill the vacuum left behind.”
She matched his smile. “I hope you’ll be a benevolent deity.”
The group reached the observation room. Doc suited up and took a second set of protective clothing with him to the vault. He tapped in the code for the airlock door.
Laura leaned toward Gordon. “Why the extra clothing?”
“We need to control the timing. Barry stays under wraps until we’re ready to let the taint reach totality.”
Zita suppressed a shiver. “What happens after that?”
Before Gordon could answer, Doc called out. “It’s not accepting the code.”
Gordon bent over the command console and tapped in commands. The door remained locked and unresponsive. “Seems Miles has been busy. Sonja, are you ready?”
“Of course.” She slipped behind a cabinet and emerged pushing a wheeled cart. She positioned it halfway between the command console and the vault. Atop the cart was an odd-looking device with electrical components sticking out like quills on a porcupine. She adjusted a few dials and looked up at Gordon. “On your command.”