Chapter 8

Falling and Floating Away

Screaming from my core, I tried to run from the invasive ghosts, their minds conjuring their own identity, as they attempted to gain possession. Striking at me, they used their lives to pummel me as if they were a twirling mace, my pain their possession, or creation. I wanted to run. A child running frightened from the power, the completeness, of the fully-formed advantage of the adult. This is what I was. I felt the infant. How could I be my own thoughts, with innocent and ignorant purity, in the face of their corrupting identity.

Instinctually, I wanted to claw at my ears and eyes, rip their visions and voices from my head. If my hands were free, they would have raked their nails across my face to dig out the source. However, they were not free. No part of my body would respond. I was restrained.

My head was even immobilized in a cold metallic brace, as the rest seemed to be from the unyielding feel, and the only view was straight on to the skylight with the stars beyond, a robotic arm descending almost to my chest from a machine suspended somehow on high. A sound resembling a full tray of metal instruments overturning to a hard floor helped me remain conscious, as I felt I may again drift away. Soon after a low voice said, “Goodamit …”

“Hello? Please help … I beg you don’t hurt me … please release me!” Fear inspired a quick chain of pleas, in a rabid fever of desperation.

A face leaned over the table to occupy my view. It was ‘Stu’ from outside the building. A dirty improvisation of a rolled cigarette hung from his lip, crooked as a twig. His hair looked wet and slicked back, as if he made an attempt to clean up. A new bright pink tie, complete with coagulated stain, stood out in contrast to his new light grey shirt, obviously recovered from the dead. If not for the greenish pallor, sunken emaciated eyes, and overloaded boils threatening to rupture with the slightest provocation – he looked almost human.

A friendly smile popped across his face, sending ash onto me, as if someone just hit the ‘happy’ button on his remote control. “Good morning sunshine … scared the hell otta me wit that scream there. ”
“Stu … please help me. Please release me. We can … work together … figure this whole thing out. ”

“Uh, um … no-can-do, pal. Your organ donor card says I can have what I want. So … im gunna take em out in case later on I need something. ”

My mind could not process the situation. Fear flooded through my body and I knew I would die, never to know the strange circumstances of my life. Tears flowed unchecked as Stuart walked away. With the desperation of a trapped animal, I tried to release my body from the restraints, determined to rip my own skin off if necessary to pull an arm free. As my muscular tension reached its maximum, the restraints disengaged. I pulled them all open easily. Jumping from the table as if it was electrified, I saw that Stu was crouched beside it, his hand on the release levers.

“I was just kidding … put you in there cause you were thrashing ‘round, not makin any sense … just like them. ” He pointed high to the two remaining blue globes with the cybernetic children inside. The state of grand architectural space shocked me, as familiar as it now was.

Time had certainly passed. The blood on the walls was darkening and the corpses, no longer sealed in a preserving atmosphere, were decaying. Looking at my hands, they were still blurry, though the dark hue indicated the same as the splattered wall, dried blood. I could feel the dry flakes fall to the floor through my fingers. What happened between the kid and I? Why did I attack a corpse? Its night again. A day must have passed. Why am I not hungry?

My head swam with the frustration and absurdity, the questions piled on other questions. They seemed unending. Smoke blew into my face. I turned slowly. There was a hand outstretched, nearly to my face.

“Stuart T. Prendergast, Acting Director of Operations, pleasure meeting you. So, which one are you? I always get confused, no disrespect. ” It was obvious he did not remember meeting me before, not that I could have introduced myself.

Convincing myself this was a good sign I said, “Which … one? Which one do you think I am?”

“Heh, you … you guys …” Stuart handed me a syringe. “… this was stickin outta yer neck. Coulda been worse. ” He gestured to the corner, where once there was dead man in a lab coat, now only remained an impossibly bloated mess, barely contained by its clothes in dried pools of its innumerable injections.

He continued, “They were stickin him, mumbling about ‘father’ something. I don’t know, that was Briant Langley, the CEO of Silicon Horizons, my boss. He didn’t have any children. Anyway, they were throwing you and One around with machines, the automated lab equipment, then tried to go after me … sirens going, lights flashin – I said ‘Fuck it. ’ Hope I’m not otta line. ”

Stuart, who at first seemed surprisingly lucid, suddenly looked sleepy, and staggered.

“Stu, are you alright?” I put my arm on his shoulder. My hand – why … why is it blurry? Is it possible to hide so thoroughly in trauma from oneself?

Eyes nearly closed, he burped. Shaking his head he said, “Yeah … yeah I think so. ” He drew a pill container from his pocket and poured some into his hand. “Want some? Keep you going …”

“No, that’s ok. ”

Dry swallowing about eight or ten he continued, “Suit yourself. ”

“Stu you were saying … about what happened. ”

“Oh, yeah. So, I went and rebooted the systems up here. I got the manual, see. They’ve just been mumblin since then, like static … creepy. ”

My mind thought to all the chaos and death, not just in the rest of the building, but the whole city beyond. “Yeah … creepy. Look Stu, what are they?”

“Who them? The owners … they own the world. Remember, you’re one of them, right?”

“Oh, right. ”

Stuart walked over to a computer panel on the wall. “The power from the reactor has been fully restored up here. The systems are all back. It looks like its just them that needs full power, then to bridge their connection. First bridge to the AI unit, then the … “ He pulled a little book from his back pocket, pen marks and circles sloppily all over the pages. “… then the AV units themselves. Should I do it, boss?”

“Stu, what do you mean ‘bridge the connection?’”

“Connect them with the system again, when it rebooted, they got cut off. This … is some freaky shit I know. Hey, its in the manual as the next step. I’m management you know, this ain’t my damn job. ” He took a long drag and blew it out his nose.

“Stu, what happened outside? What happened to you and all the people here?”

“People are lazy, but hey, I’ll take the holiday pay any day - bonuses too I bet. ”

“Bridge the connection Stu. ” Giving these strange creations the power over systems again to likely attempt killing us was not the best solution. However, I was not going to get any clear answers from Stuart, as helpful as he seemingly was hopped-up on pills. The ruins of this digital computer culture, with its information stored in binary code, could take its last voices into oblivion, without the knowledge and power to revive all their little fragile devices. The building obviously had the only functioning power source, with a potentially encyclopedic brain attached to it. The risk of reviving that potentially psychotic brain was clearly outweighed by the possibility, regardless of how remote, of gaining any kind of clear information.

I backed away near to the aperture in the clear wall where I lost consciousness. Stuart took a toolbox over to the wall, removed a key of some kind and inserted it into the wall, tapping a few menus and buttons. “Well, that’s it. ” There was no dramatic sound or series of lights.

After a few moments, the gentile voice of an dignified female child filled the air, lightly crackling with synthetic tones of static. “Em … emergency mode initiated. AI connection successful. ”

The lights flickered and a warbling of intricate electronic tones flooded the lab air. “Higher personality functions: suppressed, pending damage assessment. Solar cell line: broken. Building systems: 34%. Connection to AV1, AV3: inoperable. Video feeds: down, no damage detected. Audio feeds: operational. Infrared sensory detection grid: operational. Manipulator Automatrix: functional. ” The robotic arm descended, and within the span of a second, had clasped a brace around Stuart’s neck as it pinned him to the floor. “Intruder Lab Alpha: secured. ”

Miraculously, Stuart still possessed his cigarette after the rough treatment, like an ash from an expounding grandfather that refused to fall off the tip. In a relaxed gesture, as if it was merely a post-coital puff on satin sheets, he took a long drag and pointed at the globes. “That’s gratitude for ya …”

“Intruder Identified. Stuart T. Prendergast. Report. Unable to initiate AI connection with AV1 or AV3. ”

“Well, I gotz some good news and …”

Strangely ignored by the defense response, I quickly decided to take a risk and interject, rather then have Stuart possibly make the situation worse. “There have been some problems, we will explain further in a bit. ”

“Unidentified voice. Refining scan . . . qx-wave 4D reconstruct sensors: inadequate power. Magnetic resonance imprint: micro-coil malfunction. Indistinct thermal anomaly: please identify. ”

“I really wish I could. I suppose you can say my memory is malfunctioning. I was hoping you could provide information. ”

“Interrogative mode minimal. Memory functions limited in this mode. Higher organic AV2 cerebral unit possible severe damage. Recovery: indeterminate. ”

Walking over to stand beneath the globe, I continued, “We will both do everything we can to help you. Right now, is there anything, anything at all, that you have … in your files … about what has happened outside … recent events. What happened to the building at the very least … what went wrong?”

“Interrogative mode minimal. ”

“Do have any recent information at all?”

“Major cognitive subsection: File header information and unencrypted summary only. ”

“Yes, go ahead … anything. ”

Stuart tapped his pen against the robotic arm. “Alright, so I’ll just fucking lie here then … yeah. “ He began another overture of coughing as the machine began bleeping.

Launching into a series of dry pronouncements, a bizarre contrast to the child-like mutterings and ranting from during recent events, the machine spilt whatever facts it had. “File headers with disabled encryption available, conforming to request are as follows:

594732: routine building operations altered.

223511: new marker programming uploaded.

223512: new disaster contingencies uploaded.

223513: new threshold data for building sensors uploaded for programming condition: Phenomena A: major 001.

483985: Anteros Vitellius AV(n) experiment illegally placed in operational control of the Ilynois World Commerce Complex.

908311: normal personnel scheduling flow exhibiting anomalies, as per new contingency.

000912: telecom signal flow erratic. employee criminal behavioral index reaching 41/100.

008711: organic test sample corrupted.

441107: magnetically sealed control sample corrupted. contingency variables complete.

441108: building security lockdown initiated.

660091: antipersonnel strategies initiated. neuronal disruption broadcast from media center commencing. trusted list personnel conversion commencing.

102679: known file corruption logged

102680: AV1 neurohypophysial functioning impaired due to Phenomena A: major 001.

End of known applicable files. ”

Walking over to a lit panel beneath the AV globes, I asked it, “Can I read these files in detail please?”

“Negative, you have no clearance, unidentified thermal anomaly. ”

“Does he?” Looking to Stuart, he was trying to make another cigarette, the change in his orientation not helping his rolling skills.

“Negative, file header information only. ”

Going over to crouch beside him, he spit out loose tobacco that was falling all over his face in my direction. “Uh, sorry lady. ” He made a motion like he was tipping his hat.

Lady? Forget it … there is certainly no time for this now … let it go, I thought.

“Look, Stu, can you think of anything we can do? Any way you can think of to somehow release those files for me? It’s very important. ”

“Yeah, but I can’t do it. ”

“Why not?”

“Well, you see I’ve got this … giant goddam robot arm pinning me to the floor at the moment. ”

AV2 responded to Stuart’s request to be released and while we conferred near the control machinery, Stuart mapped out our plan with surprising lucidity, almost as if he were reciting it at the head of a conference table, with colorful presentation material to point to. Once I had explained how vital this information was, to both of us, he agreed. Though what he was agreeing to was not necessarily what I had said, he pointed to a display with maniacal attention.

“Look kid, this here command console, as the manual states, will connect the higher functions. It’s the only way ta get it to reason with you. This thing might totally be gone though. We just power off the whole thing, then hit these two. AV2 should be back up. ”

“What about the other one? The other child-computer?”

“Look … you see that wall?” He pointed with his cigarette to the far wall where there seemed to be the outline of an inert display within it. “That is the control panel for AV3. ” It was right near the cracked window, the one I had apparently been thrown into. “You see this?” Stuart hit the wall with his fist and a lever popped out. Pushing it released a decompressing hiss. There was a corridor beyond. “You following me, kid?”

Kid. Another delusion. “Yes, brilliant thinking. Could you also start it up with no sensors at all? I would like some information before we inform … her … of the situation. Keep the audio. ”

“Yep, no problems. You the boss. ”

We would need every advantage. The machinery controlled by them, loomed in alcoves all about us. The robotic arm was positioned menacingly above. I was surprised that Stuart went along with this, as unconcerned as he seemed with answers. How long I would remain ‘an owner’, I had no idea. Scared, I stayed close to him, on some suppressed instinct, regardless of how dangerous he really was. The thick smoke from his cigarette was like a security blanket, wrapping around me and sheltering me from the death that permeated that grand space.

Since the seal had been broken, the odor of the bloated corpse in the corner and the other cybernetic child, began to strengthen. Even in this technological wonder with its spaceship-like sealed environment, so far removed it seemed from the earth, this mighty bacterial force, a relentless army of decomposers, still found its winding way to objects of purpose, irrespective of challenge.

On completion of Stuart’s checklist, the synthetic child’s voice again filled the air, with one distinct difference, as a range of emotional tones permeated every gentile inflection. “I … alive. No senses … I’m scared daddy. ” Various machines in the room stared to whir and twitch.

“Woa, hold on there Two, it’s Stu-E. The feeds are … still down, its ok. ”

“Stuart … disconnected from the others … hard to think … I’m drowning. ”

Cautiously, I crept closer to the door near the panel. I had enough sense to lie to this strange abomination. “AV2, this is … a member of the board … I need to know what you remember. ”

“Stuart?” It sounded scared.

“It’s ok, Two. He’s with the company. ” Stuart gave me a slow wink. For a moment, I thought his eye would remain closed from the collected discharge. Did Stu really know I was not with the company? It did not matter and I only dwelt on the thought for a second.

I pressed her. “AV2, please tell me what you remember. ”

“The girls … Vitellius … we received our orders. Defend the building, defend ourselves if the Phenomena reached us. It’s killing everyone. ”

“What is the Phenomena AV2, is it a plague? A virus?”

“No … it effects everything … even us, sealed away. We can be saved though … others can be saved … before it becomes too strong. ”

“Are people out there still alive? Has the city been cut off? How can people be saved? How can we be saved? Tell us more!”

“Nottingham disaster … communication disruption … I can’t think. No, they are alive. They are still out there! We have to … we have a job to do. Stuart, we have to signal them … yes! Restore power … full power. ”

The cybernetic child’s words excited me. Perhaps I would make it back to other people, survivors that can treat Stuart and I. Give me answers and perhaps even protection from all this. I turned to Stuart. “Can you restore full power to her?”

He shrugged. “Not sure. I could just give her whatever power through this panel, see what she does with it. I can’t do the reactor if it don’t respond. I can’t do the cybernetic thingy if it don’t - just work. I can just do what I can do from here and see what it will do. ”

That was a lot of do’s to pay attention to. “Yes, ‘Do it’. ”

Nothing happened for several minutes. Then, the panel on the far side of the wall illuminated and AV2 continued, “Stand by. ” We stood there while various systems sounded like they were being tested. Stuart took a long drag. “Well, this sure as shit don’t look good. Great idea, boss. ” The door next to us closed, the finality of a bolt being shunted into place.

It was two female child voices that spoke now, overlapping each other. “There is no escape, lying villain. We see you now. We may be damaged, but we kill you to survive. Your bubbling ignorance has brought your vital parts to us. ” Multicolored mist, which would have been a festive grand finale effect to the right dance party, now signaled another fight for survival. Forced like steam through small nozzles, that perked out like nipples from every corner, they worked in concert with flashing lights to take any vision further then arms’ length away. “Not even one of your little ones will escape the field,” they said.

Before I even had the chance to shout to Stuart, a clanging sound drew my attention away. Stuart was hitting a chisel into the panel with a hand-sledge from the tool box, cigarette still on his lip, he looked as if he was casually killing a vampire in a disco. Soon within a cascade of sparks and violent pops, Stuart banged away faster and more violently with each hit. It did not last long.

In one swift, incalculably fast motion, Stuart was seized by the robotic arm, spun at high speed and launched through an entire section of the skylight, machine arm and all. Whether this was a malfunction or intentional, I did not know. Glass, or whatever the thick clear material was, rained down on me. The entire structure seemed to tilt above me as one of the crucial supports was now gone.

Another machine apparatus tried to grasp me through the colored haze, now a shifting hallucinatory psychotic landscape, and I hit at it with fury. My hand was seized and was nearly crushed by the grip. Bones lost their place amid ripping as it twirled me around before another seized the other free arm. They threw me onto the same table I awoke from and all the restraints locked into place.

“We will dissect what we need, siphon the life we need from you, diseased creature,” they said.

The wind was tearing through the aperture in the skylight, beginning to displace whatever was not attached in the room interior. Pieces of the skylight continued to fall and my body soon collected shards like sprinkles on cookie dough. The cracked window that I was earlier thrown into shattered, the wind immediately drawing through the space with such force as to destroy those windows that remain. A vortex of shards spun through the room and soon the entire space seemed open to the violent air.

A syringe entered my chest, right at the point of my heart. I felt warm liquid in my mouth. There were screams on the hurricane wind. The machine table that bound me and the cathedral atop the earth receded, as if I was flying away in the talons of a giant bird through an open cage. Strobes of prismatic light danced around me and seemed to penetrate deep into my flesh; in a moment of stagnant time, my vision was only roads lined with broken mirrors. The building fell away as a violent wind massaged at my body as it tumbled through a vibrating abyss.

Dramatic notes of a many flavored pain greeted me following a crushing blow, the start of a varied and seemingly infinite torturous movement. The taste of hot blood now flooded into my mouth, down to my lungs, drowning me. Without voice, I screamed internally through the agony, my collective nervous tissues firing at once like a finale.

Through it all it, I sensed something. I was not alone.

Marching from the faraway dune of imperception, a sanative (sadistic?) force once again struggled to somehow right me. As a comforting, promising, friend who suddenly appears in an interrogation room, this - presence – began work to piece the hellish puzzle of my consciousness together. Was it taking me and my body away to a better place? Keeping it there?

My secret other, functioning in ruthless extremes, always by some means lurking intact, wove visions unheeded into me, as I faded away. Accompanied by my ignorance in a coup d’etat, it overthrew my conventional reality and forced the torment of my imminent death into unbelief like a rejected god.