by P A Vasey
Stillman pursed her lips. “Pretty sure, yes.”
“Do you have any theories as to why?”
“Kinda. But first, I’m pretty sure all that,” she gestured back to the den where the laptop was, “was smoke and mirrors.”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you notice that Cain gave almost no details about what the Vu-Hak are actually doing here on Earth? That worries the fuck out of me. The Vu-Hak aren’t like us. We don’t know much about them apart from the fact that they have no empathy for humanity … oh, and they’re murderous bastards.”
“How do you know all this?”
She was looking at a point above my head. “Because Adam Benedict told you – and you told us.”
“Us, being …?”
“The FBI of course. Hubert, Holland, me …”
My wine glass found its way to my hand. “So who was Adam Benedict? You said I knew him.”
“Yes, from when you worked in Indian Springs.”
“Ah, there you go with parts of my biography that I’m still to hear about.” I took a sip, and then a larger swallow. The wine was making me feel a little woozy and more confident. “So how did I become so important in all this?”
She hesitated and leaned back among the cushions. “Adam Benedict – the real, human Adam – had been to the Vu-Hak galaxy. By accident. He’d stumbled on an intergalactic portal, a gateway of sorts, in the Nevada desert – a product of the Cold War’s atomic bomb tests. Adam – with a friend – found it, and to cut a long story he went through, dying en route. The aliens, these Vu-Hak, found him as soon as the portal dumped him in their galaxy. They downloaded his consciousness into a machine body that looked exactly like him and sent him back. Oh, and they sent one of their own Vu-Hak with him as a companion in the same machine.”
“So Adam’s the guy in the ER Navarro told me about?”
She nodded. “The police were interested in him by then, but he took you with him on a kind of road trip from Nevada to California.”
“But why me?”
“At some point during that trip, he must have ‘bonded’ with you – is that the right word? You made a connection?” Stillman was smiling tightly and raised her eyebrows. “Anyhoo, to cut a long story short you and he shared some common ground. That much was evident.”
“I’m just not feeling anything,” I said, trying out a little sarcasm.
Colleen was looking at me strangely. “You should. Adam Benedict died not only saving the world from the Vu-Hak, but saving you, specifically.”
The wine now tasted a bit flat and I wondered how long it had been in the fridge.
“Maybe he was in love with you?” she said, a twinkle in her eyes.
This made me look up. “Did he tell you that?”
“Of course not,” she replied. “But it made sense, at the time.”
“No, none of this makes any sense. If Adam is dead, then why did Cain wipe my mind? What am I to the Vu-Hak? I’m nothing. Just another human, a bipedal carbon-based life-form of which there are seven billion or so on this planet.”
Stillman was looking past me, a thousand-yard stare into the darkness beyond my balcony. “You aren’t nothing. I wish I could convince you of that. I wish you could remember him. Remember everything.” She blinked and looked up at me. “We need to find Cain.”
“Do you know where to start?” I said.
“Yes, but if we get close it’ll be hard keeping under his radar. Did I mention he can read minds and manipulate electrical fields, gravitational waves and a lot of other such shit?”
I laughed, only slightly hysterically. “Great. So, what could we possibly achieve then? Why can’t we go to the authorities? Your old FBI buddies?”
“I told you, all documentation of the Vu-Hak and Adam Benedict has been removed. Erased. I was lucky to get away with that file. No one knows. We’re in this on our own.”
“I’m going to be no use to you. I can’t remember anything.”
Stillman put her drink down and took my hand in hers.
“I’ve an idea. Lie down on that couch.”
FOUR
Stillman’s voice echoed around my head, slurring and languorous. My breathing slowed as she counted somnolently backward from ten. Her almond eyes sucked me in like a black hole, spinning and distorting my perception of time. Everything became unfocussed, floating in a space filled with thick gelatinous foam. My heartbeat, a slow sonorous thudding, was pulsing in my ears as the feeling in my body drained away and my vision narrowed to a pinpoint.
Vestiges of a dream teased me, shimmering in the blackness, images nonsensical and random, like flicking though channels on a foreign language TV. A light chilly breeze coated the back of my neck and my nose twitched as the smell of freshly mown wet grass drafted past it. I heard birdsong, the doppler effect of passing insects, the distant hum of traffic from a freeway and the low rumble of an aircraft.
I blinked and opened my eyes.
I was sitting on a cold and hard park bench, wrapped in a thick black coat and wearing black gloves. The sky was overcast, the trees sparse as leaves danced from branch to earth, gold and red, covering the grass with an autumnal quilt before the winter snows hid them forever. A grey single-track road, cement cracked but serviceable, empty of cars or walkers, wound into the distance over a hill. White tombstones lined its grassy verges, each one a couple of feet high and one foot across, spreading six deep and as far as the eye could see.
Arlington National Cemetery.
“It’s a beautiful world, don’t you agree?”
There was a man sitting next to me on the bench. Jet-black hair, cut short. An aquiline nose, cheekbones high and prominent. Pale white skin, almost waxy. He looked at me with irises of cobalt and bottomless black pupils. His eyebrows were perfectly symmetrical, sloping downward to give him a serious visage. He was wearing a dark suit and dark tie, clumsily, like he’d just learned how to knot it.
He gave a half-smile. “Or perhaps you and your kind just take it for granted?”
I felt myself frowning. “My kind?”
There was a tickle inside my head, like hundreds of spiders crawling around the lining of my brain. His eyes flashed with the sparkle of hidden emeralds lying deep within.
Humans
His lips didn’t move, but the words came, nevertheless. Anxiety grabbed my tongue and dried my mouth. The fear in my chest tightened and pressed harder, starting to suffocate me.
“Who are you?” I said.
His mouth twitched and he blinked slowly.
I’m not who you think I am
A shiver started in the back of my neck and dribbled down my spine. “Adam?”
He turned away and looked along the road. There was a red structure in the distance, a series of arches and buttresses which marked the old ceremonial entrance to the cemetery, the McClellan gate. The top of the Pentagon was just visible over the trees.
I swallowed hard. “I heard you’d died. Saving us. Saving me.”
He shook his head and looked up at the sky, at the storm clouds expanding from the west.
No one has been saved
The temperature continued to fall, and the wind was picking up. I pulled my collar around my neck and lowered my chin into the fabric.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “The portal opened. They should be here. We should all be dead.”
A few raindrops splattered on my coat, and then a few more sprinkled onto my skin, cold and wet. A man walking some kind of bulldog passed us, pulling his coat tighter around himself. The dog looked at us in passing, sniffing the air before being pulled back to heel. The insectoid buzz of couple of helicopters on station somewhere out of sight could be heard.
I felt a hand closing around mine.
You’re afraid but you don’t need to fear me
I managed a nervous smile. “I don’t fear you, Adam. Why should I?”
He removed his hand and turned away to gaze over the field of tombstones. T
he wind was picking up and with it the noise of the leaves rustling in the trees. The sky was darkening, and with it my mood. Dread was creeping in slowly, numbing my brain.
I am not Adam. You may call me Cain.
His mind was closed tight, giving nothing. No emotions, no humanity or alien-ness. Zip. He was a blank page.
“You are Vu-Hak though?” I said.
He looked away again and the silence was deafening. My stomach heaved with sudden nausea and bile climbed up my gullet. Tears pricked my eyes, and the wind blew them across my cheek. I let them flow.
It had all been for nothing.
“So that’s it? It’s over?” I said.
It is not over
He put a hand on my cheek. His touch was cold, like he was pressing ice cubes into my flesh. A wave of electricity cascaded through my mind, and a mosaic of images flashed in front of my eyes, too fast to process. In an instant they were gone.
“What have you done?” I said, swallowing hard.
He stood up and extended his hand, palm upward. I took it and he pulled me to my feet. He was very tall and I had to crick my neck to look into his face. The green phosphorescence was gone from his eyes, leaving only the glorious blue-black orbs.
I have given you what you need – you will know when to use it
“What’ve you done to me?” I said, my voice rising.
He let go of my hand and stepped back to look at me. He seemed to be re-appraising me, sizing me up, deciding what to do. His eyes narrowed. You must be hidden from yourself
“Hidden from myself? Why?”
There was a twitch at the side of his mouth, and I thought one of his eyebrows lifted a notch. For your protection, and so you will not be tempted to use this information until the time is right
“How will I know when that time comes?”
You will know
He turned on his heel and walked away toward the McClellan gate, his voice still echoing around my head.
Enjoy your new job – Sara
FIVE
I woke up suddenly, as if a hypo of adrenaline had been emptied into my jugular. My heart was pounding and I took a deep breath to slow the rate. Every thought was in 3-D and high definition, every forgotten memory now bursting through open doors.
I jerked upright and felt a hand on my shoulder. “Whoa, girl,” came Stillman’s voice from behind me.
She was holding a glass of water and, with a raise of her eyebrows, offered it to me. I gratefully took it and quenched my thirst, only now realizing how dry and parched my mouth was. The room was in darkness, the only light coming from the deck where my nightlight was shimmering orange.
“Colleen, I …” I began.
She shook her head and wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, gently rubbing my arm. I sank into the warmth of her side, appreciative of the simple gesture. Then I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her as the world around me melted away as I squeezed back. In her embrace, the world stopped on its axis.
“Welcome back, Kate,” she said, giving the top of my head a kiss.
I took a long, shuddery breath.
“How long was I under?”
Stillman shrugged. “Maybe an hour.”
I blinked in surprise. “Did I say anything?”
“Lots, at first.”
“And then …?”
“Then you slept. I’ve finished your wine, by the way.”
I leaned forward, head in hands, and ran my fingers through my hair. Everything that happened in the dream was still crystal clear, but its meaning eluded me. My previous life, however, did not.
“Are you okay?” Stillman’s voice was full of concern.
“No.”
Kelly’s face was burned into my retina. My daughter. My dead daughter. Dead now for over a year. Her pretty blue eyes, the curly blonde hair, her playfulness, her kindness. But where was the grief? I felt empty and there was heaviness, a weight on my shoulders that seemed to be crushing me. Was it because I had been forced to forget her existence? Tears started to well up but remained in check as the nothingness took hold of my soul and threatened to suffocate me.
I sat back and took another drink. Stillman was studiously watching me, so I tried a smile. “I know who I am now. I remember my real life. But I don’t even remember starting at the hospital here in Detroit. It was as if I’d always worked there.”
“It was deep cover, to say the least.”
“Cain must have been able to manipulate all the admission paperwork, applications, everything.” I said, shaking my head. “My apartment, clothes … what the fuck? How is that even possible without me knowing anything?”
Stillman just shrugged. “Think how powerful Adam was. The ability to get inside other people’s minds. Infiltrate electronic systems. Probably wouldn’t have been too difficult for Cain.”
“But what I don’t know is why Cain blanked my mind and gave me another identity.”
Stillman shrugged. “According to the tape we watched, he clearly didn’t want the authorities – me included – to find you. He specifically told Hubert to leave you alone.”
“Yes, but why?” I said. “If Adam is dead, what do I have to do with anything anymore?”
Stillman gave a forced smile. “Clearly you still have a part to play in future events.”
We looked at each other in silence. Then Stillman twitched upright. “Oh, now then. I’ve something for you.”
She reached for her purse and snapped open the clasp. A second or two later and she was handing me a small see-through jiffy bag with a lock of blonde hair in it. I stared at it like it was kryptonite, my heart lurching in my chest.
“What’s this?” I said, but knowing the answer.
Stillman’s smile was kind. “We found this at your old place in Indian Springs. You kept it by your bed.”
I slowly took it from her outstretched hand. The hair was ash blonde and plaited, with a couple of loops of elastic keeping it together. The tears came and I did nothing to quell them. The loss was instantly more than my heart could take, heavy dark clouds swamping and crushing my soul.
“Thank you,” I managed.
The knock came quietly at first, and then more insistently, louder and faster. Then there was silence. I stared at the door, unmoving. Stillman got up, taking the glass from my hand.
“You expecting visitors?”
I shook my head.
She moved to the side of the door, and I followed, staying behind her. She gestured to the peephole for me to take a look.
“Stand directly in front of it. That way whoever’s there won’t see the light as you flip it open.”
I nodded and noticed that she’d produced a gun from somewhere. She held it in a two-handed grip pointed at the floor and flattened herself against the wall. For a fleeting moment I considered asking why I was the one front and center, but she gestured with her head to the door and so I flipped the peephole up.
“It’s Navarro,’ I whispered.
Stillman’s brows furrowed. “How the fuck did he find you? There’s no way he followed me.”
“Well he’s here,” I said tightly. “What are we going to do?”
“How well do you know him?”
I thought about that. Navarro had always been a bit standoffish at Indian Springs, and had a bit of a reputation as a loner. An ex-Marine, he’d gone into medicine late and gravitated towards radiology, a specialty where he didn’t need to interact with patients very often. Despite this, I’d gotten along fairly well with him, and I felt bad because I’d so emphatically denied knowing him a few hours earlier.
“He’s okay,” I said. “Harmless. And he may be able to help us. He was there when Adam Benedict was brought in to the ER.”
Stillman chewed on her lip, then came to a decision. “Alright, let’s see what he wants.”
I made sure the chain was secure and opened the door about three inches. Light from the hallway poured in through the gap. Navarro was standing t
here, hands in pockets, looking back at me. There was a thin film of sweat on his face, as if he had just been for a run. Or climbed a bunch of stairs. Well, this was the sixth floor.
“Pete, what’re you doing here?” I said.
He blinked a few times and his neck gave a little sideways twitch, as if he’d had a little electrical shock. He looked up and down the corridor before leaning in toward me and putting a hand on the doorjamb.
“Let me in,” he said.
Goosebumps exploded on my skin and a cold chill brushed down my neck and spine. I said, ‘Sorry, Pete: hold on for one moment, will you?’ and shut the door gently.
“Something’s not right,” I whispered to Stillman. “Can you feel it?”
She shook her head but raised the gun a couple of inches, whispering back, “What do you mean?”
I wasn’t sure, but a general sense of foreboding was suffocating me. The kind of dread animals might experience while being herded on the road train for the slaughterhouse.
“Let me in,” came Navarro’s voice again, now husky. I looked in the peephole again. His eyes were wide, the irises all black, like pools of oil.
Stillman grabbed my sleeve and pulled me toward her. “We should talk with him. We need all the help we can get.”
My hands were shaking and I felt giddy and nauseated.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Can’t you feel it?” I said again. “It’s … I know it’s a cliché but … as if something just walked over my grave.”
“I can’t feel anything,” she said, staring at me.
“It’s like …” I looked up, my eyes widening as realization hit me. “It felt like this whenever the Vu-Hak got inside my head.”
Stillman glanced at the door. She inched forward, gun held up at the side of her head. There was a scratching sound, like fingernails clawing on wood. Deep breathing, slow and wheezy.
“Please Kate, let me in,” came the voice.
Stillman looked at me but I shook my head, my eyes shooting her a warning. “No way.”
“You said he might be able to help,” she whispered.
“What if it’s not him?” I said, starting to hyperventilate.
