The Dead Room Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  “Elder Branneth. What are you doing out here so late?” he asked as he carefully approached her from the right, and slightly behind.

  She didn’t turn to look at him. “Elder Hawkins.” She said his name with such derision that it almost gave him chills. He narrowed his eyes, wondering just what her purpose for being out there was. She had no love for him—he’d always known that. But since she pegged Wesley’s murder on him, that lack of emotion had morphed into such hate that Mason didn’t like to be alone with her.

  Staring off into the woods, she said, “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “Elder Mattli and I are just wrapping up a few preparations for Elder Alkoff’s funeral tomorrow.” It wasn’t a total lie. And Ashby knew Branneth was familiar with only giving twenty percent of the truth and calling it gospel.

  Slowly, Mason walked around in front of Branneth, making sure to stay outside of arm’s reach. He stood with her, looking up at what little sky they could see through the trees.

  “It’s a lovely night,” he said, trying to get to the bottom of what she was doing as quickly as possible so he could go to bed. He knew Mattli was exhausted too, and that made him feel the pressure more keenly.

  She didn’t respond, so he took the opportunity to glance sidelong at her. When he spied the knife, he turned to face her and took a step back.

  “Elder Branneth, what are you doing out here in the woods with that knife?”

  “You don’t recognize it, do you?” she said, her tone unsettlingly even.

  “No. I don’t. All I’m recognizing here is a threat.”

  “You don’t even recognize the weapon you used to kill my Wesley.” There wasn’t a single iota of menace in her voice. In fact, to Mason, it sounded almost like…melancholy.

  It made him take a step toward her, his hands outstretched. “Elder Branneth, are you okay?”

  “No. I don’t suppose I am.” Finally, she turned and looked at him. Her face was drawn, and he felt like he could read her pain on it. She’d been so angry and belligerent, particularly toward Ashley, since she’d been the one matched to Wesley, that he’d never considered she might actually be hurt. In that moment, despite what she’d said and done to Ashley over the years, he felt some sympathy for her.

  He took another step toward her. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No. It’s too late for that, isn’t it? I mean, what’s done is done, right? You certainly can’t bring Wesley back. You can’t go back to being a welder. This is a living nightmare for me, to have to work, not shoulder to shoulder, but below the man who killed the one person on this island I loved.”

  She looked over at him as he sat down. Tears streamed down her face, glistening in the moonlight, and the anger behind them made him think she might spit at him right then and there.

  “If it makes you feel better, this isn’t what I wanted either. I just didn’t want to die.”

  She looked out at the night, watching the wind chase the leaves through the trees. “You should’ve. You took Wesley’s life, so we take yours.”

  He had no response to that. He knew full well he couldn’t argue the point with her. She’d made up her mind about what really happened that night, and there was no talking her out of it. Ashley had been the real killer, but she was gone, eaten by the nanobots on the mainland. She couldn’t atone for her so-called crime. Mason was there in front of her, in the flesh. He would do nicely, no matter what the truth was.

  “But that’s not how it worked out, is it? Somehow, you and that little bitch Ashley weaseled your way out of it, again. And here you are. Second in command.” She turned back to him.

  She snorted, and Mason couldn’t help but notice her grip on the knife was tighter than before. The blade faced away from him, and her left hand clutched the handle. It was a rather large butcher knife, and Mason thought it odd it was what Branneth had chosen to hold onto as a memento of Wesley’s life.

  “Branneth…” He eyed her, not sure if she was going to hurt him or herself. She seemed so full of despair, but he could see the anger there too. “You know, when Ashley died, I felt angry too. And desperate. And I felt like giving up. It will pass. Soon, you will feel him with you, comforting you during times like this.”

  “No.”

  “No?” he asked, confused at her response.

  “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to feel badly about what happened to that twat. That whore who was unworthy of a man like Wesley. She got what she deserved. But Wesley, all he got in return for putting up with her was stabbed in the back.”

  “Technically, he was stabbed in the front.” The words were out before he could stop them.

  “You would know, killer.”

  “My point is that the pain will pass, eventually. It won’t always feel like you’re dying inside, and then you can pick up your life, put one foot in front of the other, and start moving forward again.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” Her voice broke, and Mason felt the urge to put his arm around her. But he didn’t. She was like a wild animal, and he knew to respect that barely controlled anger.

  He saw her right arm move, turning to expose her wrist to the moonlight.

  “I just want the pain to end.”

  “Branneth…” He looked at her, not quite able to put his finger on what she was playing at.

  “Goodbye, Mason,” she said as she turned to him. A tear fell from her chin onto the stone between them, and she moved.

  Mason didn’t see what she was doing, only that she was moving. Like lightning, he reacted, or tried to react. But something was wrong. The look on her face changed to a sneer.

  “You’re a fool, Mason Hawkins,” she said as she pulled the knife from his side.

  5

  June 2024

  As the weeks went by, Mendi’s patients did brilliantly. One had sustained some organ damage from her cancer, and even that was showing signs of healing. It was a downright miracle. Her parents were throwing themselves at him, declaring him their savior. And that was just one of them. They were all doing well.

  Ashby struggled to deal with his friend’s success. His own hadn’t been nearly so clear-cut. He had a few patients who weren’t thriving, one man in particular. Although his cancer seemed to be slowing down, it was still progressing. His type of cancer was extremely aggressive and fast moving. It was also very painful. All Ashby seemed to accomplish was to extend his suffering. So he had a hard time celebrating the fact that the patient survived past the expiration date his doctors had set for him. He wasn’t living. The poor man was on a morphine drip, and in and out of consciousness. His parents didn’t talk to Ashby at all, let alone praise him for anything. He’d saved nothing. In fact, he’d made things worse.

  After the man died, he sat alone in his lab, wondering what to do. It was his first death. And Mendi hadn’t had a single one.

  Where to go from here? he scrawled in the journal. More.

  The thought made him sit forward in the chair. More? Could he use more bots?

  Mendi came in just then. “Thought you might need a drink.”

  “Mendi, what do you think about more than one bot?”

  “I think they’re little monsters. Why invite more to the party?” he asked as he poured the scotch.

  “Because they could eliminate the disease faster. The rats, and the chimps for that matter, are smaller than humans, less ground to cover. More bots could render similar results in humans.”

  “I…” Mendi considered Ashby’s proposal. “You know, that just might work.”

  “The risks…” Ashby considered what could happen with more than one bot in the playing field. He’d worked hard to reprogram the bots, at Mendi’s suggestion. And felt confident it should work. But until it was tested thoroughly, his theoretical knowledge was only went so far. If his programming failed, the bots could do some serious damage. When he was so close to a major breakthrough, he wasn’t sure it was worth the risk. Clearly, one couldn’t work f
ast enough, at least not against such an aggressive cancer. And frankly, the aggressive, incurable cancers were all he was going to get for a while, since his method wasn’t exactly FDA approved yet.

  “The risks are palpable, yes, but I think it’s clear one won’t do the trick. At least not on aggressive cancers,” Mendi offered. “You must continue to move forward, or risk stagnating, and stagnating with people’s lives on the line is a bad idea.”

  “Indeed,” Ashby said as he drank the last sip of scotch from the plastic cup.

  The next day, he started testing. He still had two chimps left in his lab. The ones that had been cured had been sent to a sanctuary to live out the rest of their lives.

  But chimps were different. So much smaller than humans. If two bots got out of control in the lab, it could be disastrous.

  Only if the programming fails, Ashby thought to himself, finding little comfort. One way to know for sure.

  Gulping, he sat at his specialized microscope. He’d toiled over that programming, but he wasn’t sure it was quite right. The images of the rat’s destroyed innards would probably always haunt him. He knew if he hadn’t taken exactly the right steps, at least he’d taken the first steps to prevent further incidences.

  Trust the science. He reached over for his phone.

  I’m going in, he typed to Mendi.

  Godspeed.

  He selected the chimp in the worst condition. It had come to him months ago, after the trials had started. Its cancer was slow growing, but it was starting to cause problems with her breathing and appetite as it spread. He entered the specific type of cancer they were to target, and then set them loose on the chimp.

  “I’m sorry, Hope, but can you stay here with me? We need to watch the chimp, make sure she doesn’t decline rapidly, and if she does, discharge the EMP. They could do a lot of damage.”

  She nodded, grabbing the EMP wand.

  “I’ll make some coffee for us.” While at the machine, it struck him that he never considered the implications of a catastrophic failure in his lab. At any one time, he kept about fifteen bots on hand. Not all of them activated, but if they were, fifteen could take him and his assistant down relatively quickly. A few days at most. Would they even know that was what had happened?

  Ashby scoffed at himself. Of course they would. They’d see the bots missing and could just kill them with an EMP. They’d worry about getting them out later. Maybe Mendi’s miracle cure could help repair any of the damage they did.

  Mendi. He was being hailed as a God. No, one better than that. He’d defied the Grim Reaper. Brought his subjects back from the dead, and he had been assigned two new patients as a reward.

  As if thinking of him brought him to fruition, Mendi knocked on the lab door and didn’t wait for a response.

  “I’m heading home.” He looked around, seeing the assistant stationed at the chimp’s cage, and Ashby making coffee. “Aren’t you guys leaving soon?”

  “Not tonight. We need to take precautions.”

  “Precautions.” He nodded, seeming to absorb the ramifications of Ashby’s work.

  “We can’t all be DNA editors, Mendi.” He meant it to sound tongue in cheek, but it came out a little bitter.

  Mendi ignored the tone and laughed. “And we can’t all create flesh-eating robots. Imagine how much more glamorous your successes will be. Hollywood will be all over you.”

  “If I can get to the success part.”

  “That is the tricky part.” He put a hand on Ashby’s shoulder. “Well, goodnight then, and good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  Once Mendi was gone, the real work started.

  A few hours later, they came to a break. The bots were doing their thing, his assistant was standing at the ready, and there was nothing for Ashby to do but wait. So he called Judy to say goodnight.

  But she didn’t answer. That wasn’t like her. Maybe she was already asleep. Ashby glanced at his watch. 10:23. Possible, but unlikely. He only hesitated for a moment before he dialed again.

  After three rings, she answered, but she was out of breath. “Hi, honey,” she said, panting.

  “What are you doing? Why didn’t you answer the first time?”

  “I’m sorry, love. I was mopping the bathroom floor with my headphones on and didn’t hear it.”

  “Why are you doing that at ten thirty at night? Go to bed. Mopping can wait until tomorrow,” he said, wondering about her choices sometimes.

  “You’re right. But I just had that one last thing to do, and I didn’t want it hanging over my head.”

  “Of course. I just wanted to say goodnight. We have a long few days ahead of us, I think.”

  “Good luck, love. I know you’ll knock this one out of the park.” She said it with such sincerity that Ashby couldn’t help but smile.

  “Thanks. I love you.”

  Without hesitation, she said, “I love you too. Goodnight.” She disconnected the call, and Ashby went back to work without a care.

  By morning, both Ashby and his assistant were zombies. On the bright side, his chimp seemed to be doing well. She was eating voluntarily, displaying more signs of energy, and drinking. They were hopeful. It was the most rapid turnaround they’d seen so far.

  He sent his assistant home for a few hours to rest and shower. When she came back, he went down to the locker room and showered there to try to refresh himself. He’d never been awake this long before, not even in his college days of all-night cram fests for finals. Never mind the fact that he was a good twenty years older. He couldn’t handle this kind of stress for very long.

  While he poured himself a cup of coffee around midmorning, Mendi walked up behind him. “Hey there, night walker. How’d everything go?”

  “Seems good so far. The chimp is showing major signs of improvement.”

  “That’s great!” He clapped Ashby on the back. “So your sacrifice was worth it.”

  “I suppose,” he said, bringing the cup to his lips and hoping it would give him the energy he needed to get through the day.

  “I have some good news myself.”

  “Oh?” Ashby wasn’t sure he was prepared to hear any of Mendi’s “good news.” It would only put more pressure on him. But he tried to act excited. Mendi was his friend, after all.

  “I’ve selected a new testing group.”

  “That’s great!” Mendi’s patients were all doing beautifully. He had a pool of applicants six feet deep. News of his miracle cure was spreading throughout the cancer community like wildfire. It was every scientist’s dream.

  “That’s not the great part. This group doesn’t have cancer.”

  Ashby tilted his head as his exhausted mind tried to puzzle out why he would take subjects without cancer.

  “They have Alzheimer’s.”

  “…Alzheimer’s.” Ashby struggled to process the news. “I didn’t realize you were that close to testing other diseases.” They’d speculated many times about the wide-reaching impact Mendi’s technique could have. But it was nothing more than theorizing. How had he gotten to application so quickly?

  “After seeing the success and relatively low risk of the technique, I’m being allowed some unconventional patients to experiment with, as long as they’re willing.”

  “How can an Alzheimer’s patient be willing? How could they possibly understand what you’re proposing when they can’t even remember their own family?” Ashby asked, more than a little incredulous at Mendi’s latest development. It was out of character for him to break the rules. Why would he risk it?

  “Well, all families involved have power of attorney. And some have even provided me with a handwritten letter from the patient stating they don’t want to live the way they are. Unfortunately for them, they don’t live in a state that supports assisted suicide. So, families have reached out to me, hoping I could help.”

  “How did they even get wind that you were thinking of using it on degenerative brain diseases? Cancer is a long way from Alzheimer
’s.” Ashby realized he was being argumentative instead of supportive the way Mendi would’ve been, but he just couldn’t understand how such a leap had been made without any red tape at all.

  “The one who gathered the group is a fellow physician. He studied my work, and he reasoned the technique could be applied there, as well as to many other diseases and illnesses.”

  “Should you be concerned that it’s that easy to figure out your road map? Someone might usurp you,” Ashby said, a little bitterness seeping through his tone.

  If Mendi picked up on it, he ignored it. “Nah. Anyway, if someone did that, they’d only be helping more people. That’s what it’s about in the end, right?”

  “Right,” Ashby said quietly, although he wasn’t so sure. Helping people was more of a side bonus for him. He was after the fortune. The gold mine that would come with curing an incurable disease.

  Ashby cleared his throat. “Well, congratulations, Mendi. That is exciting news.” He raised his coffee mug to him, and Mendi bowed his head. “So, what do you realistically expect as far as an outcome?”

  “I have no idea,” Mendi said.

  “When do you start?”

  “Tomorrow. The candidates are gathering as we speak.”

  Ashby nodded as he sipped his coffee. Tomorrow. Good things certainly were happening for Mendi. He thought of his energetic little chimp and hoped his own treasure trove of good things wasn’t too much further out of reach.

  Two more days went by. He and his assistant started taking shifts so they could sleep. The chimp showed marked improvement by the hour, it seemed. By midday on the third day, they ran another scan and couldn’t find a single trace of the cancer.

  “It’s time,” Ashby declared, and he went to get the box.

  They donned protective rubber suits, leaving not an inch of skin exposed, and helmets, so the bots wouldn’t get distracted by their bodies on their way to the box. The other chimp was moved to the lab next door so no other organic matter could attract the nanobots.

  After an hour of preparing for extraction, there was nothing left to do but remove the two bots at once.