The Hunt: Symbiosys

by Michel Weatherall

  Amber was sensitive to Its calling. She felt it. She could see It in her mind's eye. Where It was. Isolated. Distant. Desolate. Cyclopean. A monstrous city that was nothing more than a tomb; a great watery graveyard. Necropolis.

  * * *

  The baby's teleportation was a blind flight of panic. It had no knowledge, no information, no language, no structured thoughts, not even a frame of reference. It was unbound by conventional thought of what could or should not be accomplished.

  Its understanding of safety was purely instinctive. The fragmented memories of Lorne knew only one place of safety. The baby could only remember the warmth and safety of the womb; the safe embrace of water...

  La Bellefeuille Maison,

  Montreal, Canada,

  November 3rd, 1994

  The baby appeared naked and in the mud, outside La Bellefeuille Maison. It was dark. He began crying. He knew she would hear him. He knew he would be safe with her...

  Veronica and Nesbitt heard its calls and came outside the house.

  Chapter 17: Awakenings

  Tokyo, Japan,

  November 7th, 1994

  Hiromitsu didn't fear his company's ambitions of cybernetics. Unlike his sister, Shantigra, he did not see it as a potential disaster. He wholeheartedly believed in it. He embraced it. He believed it was mankind's future, its evolution, its advancement, its hope for utopia! And as he dreamed, he dreamed of a futuristic utopia city.

  Hundred-story tall shiny metal skyscrapers reaching towards the sapphire blue sky. Glass enshrouded minarets thrusting their pinnacles through the drifting blanket of clouds, scattering the sunlight in all directions, enlightening the city!

  Clean, spotless, pollution-free. And its populace! The next step in human evolution! Necessary limb-replacement bionics had long since given way to self-elective modification.

  A beautiful Indian woman strolled down its hexagon composite sidewalk, her hair metallic silver and animated with a robotic sentience of its own.

  A young Asian boy passes her, his bionic eyes a metallic blue, as he watches the aerowings on the distant horizon!

  Some of the population wore a single specialized bionic eye, allowing them cybervision, internet-sight. Perpetually connected and accessible. Implanted hearing-aides permanently wi-fi connected. Hi-speed synaptic/CPU back-up and cognizant enhancing. An absolutely interconnected utopia! The crimes and horrors of Individuality a near-alien concept. Non-existent crime due to an intimate understanding and first-hand experience of the needs and wants of others.

  Then... Rain. Bright orange embers of rain. Flaming bullets fell from the sky, and the red sky exploded with long booming roars of thunder. The buildings, the people, the city, burst into flame. The sky glowed red like the inferno of a fire pit!

  Then, on the streets below, water began to seep through the hexagon composite roads. Escalating from a percolating dribble to a gushing flow. The streets begin to flood as the water rises. The streaking lines of fire from the sky hissing as they strike. All the fires in the city go out. They're safe!

  ...but the waters in the streets continue to rise. From one nightmare into another. Floodwaters!

  The people are completely submerged but continue on with their daily activities, seemingly unawares. Their implants and bionics begin to malfunction, to spark, to rust, to excavate and dislodge themselves from the flesh. The people squirm and writhe in pain; they begin to suffocate and drown!

  Fear – Panic ensues.

  Those who escape the drowning and reach the surface of the rising water are boiled and burnt to cinders by the streaking fire-rain.

  Hiromitsu realizes his dream has become a nightmare – has taken on a life of its own – has began to run rampant.

  He becomes aware of himself in the dream – ceases to be an observer and becomes an active participant. His heart races, his breath ragged. He needs to control his panic and this nightmare.

  He simply sits atop the waters. Slows his breathing. Begins to meditate. The inferno clouds burn out to an empty cold ash sky. The last of the streaking fire-rain sizzles out. The wind rustles his clothing and aimlessly wanders across the surface of the waters. All become silent, still. Hiromitsu is calm. His breath steady, deep, and slow. His mind at rest... calm, still.

  ... then he hears an ever so faint sound...

  It is a baby crying; far off. He can barely hear her. It is above him; above the clouds.

  Hiromitsu knows it is a distraction. He turns his mind onto the waters and focuses. He stands up upon the water as it slowly recedes. The tops of Hiromitsu's utopian buildings show through and begin rising. The minaret spikes, crystal beacons!

  Still the baby cries above him – frightened and distressed.

  The floodwaters lower, and buildings rise above Hiromitsu, clear, crystal spring-water gushing out windows, cascading into countless waterfalls. The sunlight dancing and reflecting through the thousands of waterfalls, rainbows erupting through the spraying water prisms.

  Still the baby wails. Hiromitsu looks up, his mind still clear. The clouds wiped away as if by some divine hand.

  The baby cries were coming from atop a tall skyscraper, from its penthouse.

  Suddenly Hiromitsu realizes he is dreaming – he realizes the apartment is his sister's, Shantigra's penthouse. The baby's cries are now frantic!

  He levitates off the ground, now in control of his dream, and gained altitude, rising towards the penthouse. He realizes now why he cannot control the baby's crying – because she isn't part of his dream – his baby niece is calling out to him. He doesn't know how, but he sees clearly. Tamara!

  As Hiromitsu's feet touches down on the penthouse's balcony floor, a deafening peal of thunder explodes around him. The building rocks and rumbles! He staggers to catch his balance!

  The other buildings of his dream utopia topple and crash into one another, like megalithic dominoes! Hiromitsu has to cling onto the balcony railing to avoid being thrown off!

  ...and then all is quiet. His building is the only one standing. He's surrounded by a fallen and dead city. No longer Hiromitsu's hopeful utopian city, but the ruins of a post-apocalyptic nightmare.

  It had a name and somehow – he knows not how – he knows its name. Necropolis!

  His building shutters! It tilts. The baby is screaming! The Necropolis is swallowing his building whole!

  He explodes into action as the floor tilts to a 45 degree angle! He bolts into the penthouse apartment as the building collapses and the nightmare Necropolis shatters!

  Hiromitsu awoke. Tamara was frightened. His baby niece needed his help. She was at Shantigra's penthouse. He didn't struggle with understanding the why or the how of it. These were futile wastes of energy. They were inconsequential. He simply knew.

  * * *

  McGill University,

  Montreal, Canada,

  November 7th, 1994

  Professor Elizabeth Lefebvre brushed her blonde bangs back behind her ear as she smiled at Neilson's nervousness. She chose the cafeteria – out in the open – in plain sight – to make the point.

  “Although it isn't official yet, the UNCGSC is revoking their authority. The CSIS-SAT-RCMP JTF is being disbanded. I can't tell you if they've realized that you are missing yet, but they will no longer be in pursuit of you – that is, if they ever were.”

  Professor Neilson picked up his coffee. Then put it back down. Then picked it up again. Then mumbled to himself. “I'm not cut out for this kind of research. My nerves are shot.”

  Closer to the cafeteria's outer wall, Veronica sat on a large chesterfield with the baby. The baby boy was wide awake and taking everything that Veronica was in as she sang to him:

  “A, you're adorable, B, you're so beautiful! C, you're a cutie full of charm! D, you're so darling and, E so exciting and, F, you're a feather in my arms!...”

  “Regardless, Howard, you're safe,” Lefebvre assured him. “We need to get on with this. But before we address Miss Cadeaux's theory, I think we need
to discuss this baby.”

  “...G, you look good to me, H, you're to Heavenly, I, you're the one I idolize!...” Veronica continued singing. The blond baby boy's eyes opened wide, his tiny feet kicking to the music!

  “J, we're like Jack and Jill, K, you're so kissable, L, you're the love light in my eyes!” As the baby squirmed and kicked on Veronica's lap the sun through the window caught his beautiful blue eyes and their flecks of green and gold reflected the light and shone! Veronica kept singing: “...M, N, O, P, I could go on all day! Q, R, S, T, alphabetically speaking, you're OK!”

  “Do we have any idea who this baby is?” Professor Lefebvre asked.

  Neilson shook his head as he answered. “No. I cannot fathom who this baby is.”

  “U make my life complete...” and at this point in her song Veronica's voice trailed off into silence. Flashes of Lorne, Marie, and Henri coursed through her memory. For the first time in nearly seven years she didn't feel alone. Empty. Without hope. Without purpose. In fact, just the opposite was true. She slowly looked up at the two professors speaking – speaking about this baby's identity.

  “I know who he is,” she spoke slowly, quietly, and she looked back down at him and made googly eyes. “He's mine. I'll take care of him. I'll raise him. I'll protect him.”

  * * *

  Tokyo, Japan,

  November 7th, 1994

  It took Hiromitsu longer to get to his sister's apartment than he would have expected or liked. Roads were closed, detours in effect due to a storm. News reports were confused. Some sort of weather phenomena had hit south-eastern Chiba Prefecture. They couldn't decide whether it was a storm swell, a tidal wave, or a tsunami. But whatever it was, it had flooded Tokyo Bay and was causing havoc with traffic.

  Hiromitsu was detained by security personnel at the apartment’s foyer. The elevator to the penthouse had been closed. The penthouse was inaccessible they told him. These were hired security guards, not police, and definitely not military. For a brief moment, Hiromitsu considered forcing his way through. He was an accomplished martial artist, but that thought passed. He was no fool. He practised martial arts for its mental discipline and clarity of focus, not for combat and self-defence. And besides, he wasn't a young man anymore. The guards, they were young men.

  He thanked them, and excused himself. He would simply take the stairs. They were not very organized. They were just doing a job. He could easily sidestep them. Nothing was going to keep him from Tamara.

  * * *

  “We need to inform the authorities.” Neilson attempted to reason with Veronica. “We can't just keep him!”

  “I'm surprised at you,” Veronica snapped back. “You of all people should know better. Do you honestly believe this baby has nothing to do with everything we've seen?”

  “We really have no reason to bel-”

  “-If the baby's legitimately missing,” Veronica cut him off, “it will not be difficult to find out. The media will cover this – Genevieve!” she turned and called out to Genevieve Cadeaux sitting a few tables away eating lunch with her camera man, Andre. “You work for the news, right?”

  Genevieve nodded her approval and motioned a thumbs-up, her mouth full and chewing.

  “And you two,” Veronica addressed the two professors, “with your, 'we have access to information not readily available to' blah, blah, blah,” she made a duck-bill motion with one hand. “Find out! The baby stays with me!”

  Genevieve motioned with her hand to remain calm as she spoke, “I agree with you, Veronica. I can keep my eyes open for any information about this baby. But we're all here for another purpose, aren't we?” she turned to Neilson.

  “You said you wanted to speak with me about my Ph. D. thesis. Now we have your student, majoring in audio engineering – no offense Timothy.”

  “Tim. Please don't call me Timothy,” the young man corrected her.

  “Sorry. But I don't understand. You're majoring in audio engineering. How does that make you an authority in meteorology or oceanic studies?”

  Tim Paupst sighed and looked to Professor Neilson for support.

  “No. You don't understand,” Neilson tried explaining. “This isn't an issue of credentials. This is an issue of experience. After the.... incident in Miskatonic University in June of '92, Tim had pursued and further studied issues relating to the Symbiot. Tim believes the original Symbiot was an ancient Egyptian Pharaoh. Pharaoh Nyarlathotep.”

  Professor Elizabeth Lefebvre interrupted, “There was no Pharaoh Nyarlathotep recorded in history.”

  “No, there wasn't,” continued Tim. “But as with the Symbiots we've encountered, Nyarlathotep takes possession of a host. I've done a bit of homework and I think it might have been Pharaoh Nefren-Kha.”

  Lefebvre pursed her lips for a moment. “That's only legend.”

  “No!” Tim became animated and excited, “The archaeologist Enoch Bowen discovered Nefren-Kha's tomb is 1843! It's not that Nefren-Kha didn't exist, it's that they attempted to erase him from history!”

  “Enoch Bowen was an occultist,” Lefebvre added, stressing the word. “He is not a credible source.”

  Tim Paupst didn't know how to respond.

  “The UNCGSC found this lead credible enough to pursue,” Neilson reminded Lefebvre. “You were at council.”

  “I'm sorry,” interjected Genevieve. “Now we're talking Egyptology? What does any of this have to do with my Global Elliptical Ocean Phenomena thesis?”

  “Ah!” Professor Neilson turned to her. “So far, we have reasons to believe there's been at least four Events. As incredible as it sounds, the latest two would seem to be related to these two children.

  “The Tokyo-Event of October 17th, the birth of Tamara. The last UNCGSC meeting's purpose was to determine Tamara's nature. Whatever it is, she would not seem to be simply human.

  “The latest, here, in Montreal on November 4th, would seem to correspond with the arrival of this mystery baby boy.

  “As for the previous two events, you had theorized a GEOP event occurring in 1925. Both in south-central Pacific Ocean and the Red Sea. We have significant information that correlates with a severe lowering of the sea-level in the south-central Pacific in 1925. In fact, it revealed a large submerged island.”

  “What information?” Genevieve asked, puzzled.

  “I'll make sure the Norwegian Johansen's testimony is made available to you. But this is beside the point. You also had reason to believe this 1925-Event was not the original one; that this 1925-Event was merely a duplicate of a much older and original event. You had coined the term, Zero-Event.

  “This Zero-Event may very well be the same Tim had researched. Thirteenth century BCE Pharaoh, removed from history. Egypt is close to the antipodes of this south-central Pacific location.

  “If your GEOP thesis corresponds with Tim's theory, we may be able to monitor the world for a recurrence of this event.”

  “Why is this event of such importance?” Genevieve asked.

  “Read the 1925 Johansen Testimony,” Neilson answered. “It's a harbinger of the end of the world.”

  * * *

  As tired as he was, the sound of the baby girl's crying was enough to find the extra energy to sprint up the final flight of stairs.

  Hiromitsu easily bypassed the apartment’s security and entered. Baby Tamara was red and hot and sweaty from bawling. She was laying in her crib naked.