Reverberations
Page 13
“Great. You should have told me this earlier before we led them to the backdoor.”
“They haven’t started tracking us yet. For all we know, the blinking light means the system is offline. It’s also annoying to sleep at night. Do you know how much a red pulse sucks at night? Who was the genius who designed this thing?”
“You may have screwed it up for all of us!”
“Relax,” Alex said. “Do you see any cultists around? We are in the hippy universe. I think we’d notice bloodthirsty cultists. Besides, we are here.” Alex motioned towards a Forever 21.
“Figures,” Jon said.
“I’m telling you some concepts are what it means to be human,” Alex said and led Jon into the store. They walked past the clothes and accessories in tree branch clothing racks. They made their way to the back of the store, where some hedges made up the changing room. Alex pulled two pieces of random clothes off the rack, and they shoved a giant ugly purple sweater toga into Jon’s hands. They kept a pair of under toga leggings for themselves.
They went over to the fitting room attendant, and she gave them each a small tree ring with the number one on it. She looked over at their strange clothing and said, “Are you a theatre troop?”
“Yeah,” Alex said. “I play Annie.”
The clerk gave them an inquisitive look and turned to her duties of sorting the clothes. They walked into the row of fitting rooms, and Alex chucked the items and the numbers into an empty stall. They walked to the one on the back right and saw that it was occupied. Alex banged on the door and said, “There’s a fire, and we need you to exit the building.”
The occupant burst forth from the fitting room, scrambled to put on clothes while they stumbled out, and ran. Jon said, “Isn’t that going to start a panic?”
“Relax,” Alex said. “You’ll be in HQ before anyone comes to check on us.”
“Right, well,” Jon said. “Since there is only room for one on this trip, go back and see if you can help Hailey reclaim the farmhouse.”
“Sure you don’t want me to come after you if you don’t come back in 24 hours?”
“If I need your help, I’ll be dead before you can make it.”
“It’s your dime.” Alex shrugged and turned to leave.
Jon put his headphones on and couldn’t hear anything, not even the faint sound of a tuning spot far away. “Wait. I don’t—”
“Just shut up and listen, or you’ll miss it. It’s only there for a few seconds.”
Alex looked at a rugged timepiece on their other wrist and urged Jon to hurry.
Jon pulled up his tuning app. At first, he couldn’t hear anything but the music in his headphones. It was Bizarre Love Triangle by New Order. It was an odd change because once he heard the sounds of other universes, he couldn’t turn them off. But in this booth, there was nothing. It was like it was in a sound proof room.
“That’s weird,” Jon said.
“I know, right?” Alex said. “That’s probably why you can hear it right here. The sound of other universes doesn’t drown out the noise. Two seconds.”
The time ticked down, and at first, there was nothing. Then the static sound seemed to float out of the void. He could hear something, even though it sounded far away. He adjusted his dial until it was the loudest, but the noise was too faint to tell where he was tuning. It was like he was trying to pinpoint someone playing violin underwater in the entire ocean. Jon didn’t have a choice but to trust his life to Alex. He hit the tune button.
∆∆∆
For a brief moment, Jon thought he had tuned to a void universe. He thought his molecules had been ripped apart or that he had tuned to empty space. Once he realized that he was still breathing and standing on a solid surface, the moment of panic passed. He was in a pitch-black room.
He felt for his TF3 and used the glow of the screen to make sure he hadn’t tuned into the cultists' sleep quarters. Once he was sure no one else was around, he turned on the flashlight feature to get a good look at the place. He was in a storage room. There were shelves and shelves of supplies, everything from medkits to food. They were standard Tuners’ issue, and a code on the wall said U-1-RS1-S433A-2B. He was in HQ.
He couldn’t remember where the storeroom was to the rest of the facility. Jon never needed to go to it. All the weapons and Universe One tech were stored elsewhere that required a higher level of security. Staff kept their pantries full, handed out office equipment, and got medical supplies. Jon shuddered to think of what had happened to all the people they couldn’t save when they evacuated HQ.
As if summoning one of those lost souls who kept Tuners running, a voice whispered in the dark. “Psst. Hey, Jon.”
At first, he thought he was hallucinating. When he turned towards the source of the sound, he saw a figure standing behind him holding a fire extinguisher. Startled by the sight, Jon pulled out his blade, and the makeshift weapon from the individual clattered to the floor. By the time Jon had realized the person wasn’t a cultist, they were already backing away, pleading for their life.
“Whoa! Whoa!” Jon said and put his weapon away. The person before him was a woman in her thirties. From the dinginess of her clothes and her unkempt hair, he could tell she must have been hiding out for a long time. She also had a look in her eye of a person who might not be well connected to reality.
“I thought it was you,” the woman said. “I couldn’t be sure, though.”
She indicated the fire extinguisher.
“It’s me,” Jon said, but he could not place her. There were so many people who kept the Tuners running. Either way, it was no time for pleasantries. “And you are—”
“Carrie,” she said. “Carrie, down in maintenance. I fixed your shower head when it was leaking.”
Jon vaguely remembered a plumbing leak during training, though with so much going on in his life during that time, it was hard to remember who fixed it. He feigned it anyway. “Yeah, Carrie.”
“Where are the others? Did you clear HQ yet?”
“It’s just me,” Jon said.
“Just you! But how did you get way down here? The cultists are everywhere.”
“I came in through the backdoor.”
“The back—door?”
“Yeah, it’s a long story. Do you know where they are holding Hector?”
“I’m not sure what’s happening in the rest of HQ.”
“You haven’t left this room?”
“Only a few times, but turned back because of cultists. When I heard the order to evacuate, I was cut off from the control room. The cultists—they were going crazy—killing everyone in their path. You either had to swear loyalty to them or they’d slit your throat.”
“So, you chose the third option.”
“It was the only place with food, water. I thought they’d find me for sure. They would need supplies at some point, and there’s a corner where, you know; it’s hard to mask the smell.”
“You survived. That’s what matters. I think you got lucky. They don’t have the same sensibilities when it comes to food, and I don’t think their wounded survive very long, either.”
“I tried to leave a couple of times, but when I get to the arboretum—. It’s filled with them. They are—I don’t know—torturing each other.”
“That’s how they train. What about the crew quarters?”
“I think they are using them. When I get close, I hear voices and footsteps. There is no way out of this tier without going through a lot of them.”
“Did you check the other rooms in this hallway? Plumbing? The janitor closet? Any of them?”
“Yeah, there is no one else in this area. Some cultists searched the room after the attack, but I stuffed myself in a top shelf that had just enough room for me. I was lucky that I’m small, and they didn’t look up. If other people were hiding out, the cultists would have found them. Even if they avoided being discovered during the initial sweep, they would have run out of food. That would have been me if I h
adn’t been in the area getting some drain cleaner for Meathook. He left a bathroom…”
“So it’s just us then?”
“Yeah. So what do we do? When are the others coming?” Carrie asked.
“They aren’t. It’s bad out there, and we need Hector,” Jon said. “Look, I’d take you back right now if I could, but the way I came only had room for the Tuner, and I’m not going to risk your life trying to see if I can fit one more. But what I will do is take you with me. We will get you and Hector out of here. Does this place have air vents?”
“It’s Universe One tech. There’s a machine in the basement that supplies the oxygen. It breaks down a mineral and needs refilling every ten years or so.”
“I don’t need a lesson on how it works,” Jon said. He shuddered to think about how much like Hector he was becoming. Even though he thought the guy was hard on everyone, he realized how important it was to just get it done. “Can we move through the vents?”
“They are too small,” Carrie said. “Universe One tech is efficient. The ducts are maybe the size of a mouse.”
“Is there any way we can sneak around and not use the hallways?” Jon asked.
“Well, there is one system—”
∆∆∆
Jon and Carrie stood in a room full of piping. They were largely metal, and all converged onto a water recycler unit. The sewage was pumped into the purifier by a large pipe in the center, then sterilized by several different chambers that looked like a Rube Goldberg machine and then sent out to the H2O storage. It was another highly efficient system that only needed attention and topping off after years of continuous use. Universe One technology was highly advanced and took a lot of bright minds working around the clock when it broke. It was good for the Tuners that it didn’t break often.
The cultist didn’t seem to care because, like the storage room, this room was ignored after the initial search. Jon wondered if it meant that the cultists never really intended to stay in HQ in more than a temporary capacity since they didn’t care about maintaining the place. However, the hypothesis didn’t fit with the message they had forced Hector to say.
There was more to their plan that they didn’t know yet. Getting new recruits was part of it, but there had to be something if they were planning to use up HQ’s resources and move on.
Carrie pointed to the large pipe in the center of the machine. “See that one. It’s big enough to crawl through, and there are access hatches on each floor. Only one problem.”
“What?” Jon asked.
“It’s where the raw sewage collects and gets put through the recycler.”
Jon cringed and said, “Well, if it’s the only way—”
He opened his invisibility backpack and began to pull out the suit.
“Why didn’t you say you had an invisibility cloak!” Carrie said.
“I only got one,” Jon said. “You take it, and meet me at the station on the control floor.”
“No,” Carrie said. “I’ve had to crawl up that thing to clear blockages before. Besides, I can’t fight. If I run into one of them, I’m as good as dead, and now you’re down an invisibility suit.”
Jon didn’t argue with her. He got to work dressing in his gear. She climbed to the top of the machine with ease and popped the hatch. She poked her head inside and pulled it out again. A flood of sewage flew past. She called down to Jon, “Never had to climb up this thing without the system being shut down! The rungs are pretty close to the edge. Maybe I can dodge. Either way, could you go back and grab the Febreze? Just in case.”
Jon gave her the thumbs up without realizing that he was already invisible. She waited for a few seconds and climbed into the pipe. Jon was already halfway across the room and out the door.
He decided to take the crew quarters way. If there were massive amounts of cultists training in the arboretum, he’d have a harder time weaving through crowds. Considering they knew everything Ludie knew, running into someone when he was invisible would end any element of surprise, and worse, they would know about the existence of the backdoor. It was better that he avoid the large groups as best he could.
There was also the chance they were confining Hector in the crew quarters, but he doubted it. If there was a prison, that’s where he was. However, Alex had been a little foggy on how to get to the jail. Jon’s best bet was to head to the control floor and see if he could access the security footage and get eyes on Hector.
Because of the curved hallway, before he spotted the crew quarters, he saw something peculiar. All the furniture was strewn in the walkway. Beds, night tables, even the bunks for the multi-person units, were carelessly dumped in piles, and Jon had to climb through to get to the other side. At least it explained why Carrie went unnoticed for so long.
Once he got past the furniture, he saw one of the doors open. A cultist walked out, and Jon froze then glanced inside. The cultists were sleeping in rows on the hard floor. Some of the higher-ranking ones were suspended by hooks in their skin, fast asleep like it was nothing.
Jon waited for the cultist to make his way down the curve of the hallway before he continued. Even though he was adept at moving silently, there was no point to risk being discovered. If Alex decided to ignore him and followed him through, the bounty hunter would be a day behind.
He rounded the bend past the common room where they had hung out, played video games, and screwed around between missions. Ludie was on DeAndre’s chair rather than squished in between Meathook and Patel. It was sad seeing the guy pounding the buttons by himself. Either way, the kid was going to get what he deserved, whether it was by Hector or the High Priest.
Jon was about to move on and continue down the hallway when Ludie threw his control in a fit of rage and sat back on the chair. The former Tuner wept by himself. Jon couldn’t resist and tiptoed into the room.
He circled around behind Ludie and saw the game on the screen was one they used to play cooperatively. It was one of those games that was way better with a group of friends than by oneself.
Once Jon was situated behind the chair, he reached into a scabbard on his back inside his suit and quietly pulled out his sword. Anyone walking by would have seen the strange sight of a sword materializing out of thin air and moving in position to get Ludie by the throat.
Since the kid wasn’t wearing his power suit, it was no contest. However, that still didn’t mean he couldn’t call for back up. Jon would have to be careful, but he was sure Ludie valued his life.
He placed the sword against the former tuner’s neck. Ludie examined the blade and said, “Jon, it was only a matter of time before you showed up. I suppose Hector’s message got through to you.”
“Move to the back by the air hockey table,” Jon said.
“Can’t DeAndre be the lookout? Or is he too butt hurt when I took his chair?”
“He is indisposed at the moment,” Jon said. There was no reason to let Ludie think that the others weren’t tromping around, “Meathook, watch the door.”
He guided Ludie to the back where there was a nook that had an air hockey table. A person walking by wouldn’t be able to see the floating sword threatening to gut the kid. Ludie sat on the table, and Jon kept his weapon at the ready.
“You can put that down,” Ludie said.
“So, you can scream?” Jon prodded.
“Then you’ll kill me,” Ludie said. “I can’t fight you. At least not in a physical fight.”
The kid had a point. He put the sword down but not away.
“What do you want?” Ludie said.
“Where are you keeping Hector?”
“In the conference room. The High Priest likes to keep him close.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“You’re the one with the invisibility cloak. Go look! If I’m lying, kill me. It’s better than what the High Priest will do to me.”
“Regretting your decision?”
“No, at least I lived up to my full potential even if
it was short,” Ludie tried to act tough, but Jon could tell the guy was scared.
“What’s going on? You brought them the Tuners. You figured they’d make you supreme acolyte or whatever they do.”
“Oh no,” Ludie said. “I want nothing to do with their screwball religion. They are loony. Believe me, if Hector had any vision, we’d be playing video games right now, and we would have wasted all those nut jobs.”
“That’s not how we work. I can see Hector confining the cultists to their home universe, but it’s not our place to tell them how to run their world or kill them for disagreeing with us.”
“You’re starting to sound like Hector.”
“Maybe I just grew up,” Jon said.
Ludie turned red in the face, jumped from the table, and yelled at Jon, “I am more adult than any of you! If you had any—”
“Lower your voice,” Jon said and lifted his sword. Ludie took a few steps back.
“If we don’t make weapons, then someone else will.”
“Making weapons? Are you listening to yourself? The cultists are the very reason we don’t make them and probably why Universe One decided to fry them in every tune. Weapons might seem like a good idea until the wrong person gets ahold of them.”
“That’s why I have a plan, Jon. The cultists are just a means to an end,” Ludie said. “While you were pawing at Hailey, I was doing something useful. I got to know this station inside and out. I can kill every last one of them, Jon. I can cut off their air. I can kill everyone in this station.”
“Won’t that kill you?” Jon asked.
“Why do you think I made the power suit? It has its own independent oxygen supply, sort of a mini version of the same thing we have for the whole station. It was a prototype that Hector was going to lock away in the vault. I swapped it out, thinking it would be useful one day. Today’s that day. I can survive for weeks. Everyone will be dead.”
“So why not kill them off now? You’ll have the station to yourself.”
“I need help, Jon. My experiments aren’t just me in a lab fiddling with beakers. I need people to gather materials, build the parts I need, and even be real human flesh for the tests.”