Cyborg Heart

by Anna Lewis

  “What do you see around you?” Reilly asked.

  “Not much to see. Just seems to be flat, dusty ground around me. There's a haze that limits visibility beyond a few dozen meters. I think—” His voice dropped off.

  Reilly was about to ask him to repeat himself when a sudden spike of pain lanced through her temple. She winced and let out a short yelp of surprise. Some of the spectators, particularly the two suits, looked over at her. Bill frowned, concerned. He moved as if to come over to her, but she waved him off. “I'm fine. Stay on the winch. Just a sudden headache. Probably allergies.” Bill nodded and turned back to toward the portal, his hand resting on the frame of the reeling machine. Reilly bent to the microphone again, trying to ignore the pain. “Uh, Roger, I didn't get all of what you just said. Repeat that for me?”

  The radio crackled, and Roger's voice came through, though it seemed garbled and distorted. That was bizarre. Were the energies of the Door interfering with the connection somehow? That wouldn't make sense. They'd been fine just a moment ago, and his radio was hard-wired through the tether cable. Nothing should have been interfering with it. Her headache was getting worse, and fast. Reilly put one hand to her head and braced the other on the desk, trying to concentrate on making out what the young explorer had said. Something spattered onto the desk in front of her. She touched it with her fingertips and was surprised when they came back red with blood. Was her nose bleeding? Roger was still talking, though she still couldn't understand it. The headache was turning into something much more like a migraine; as if someone was driving an icepick into the side of her head. Bill was by her side all of a sudden, his hand on her shoulder, his voice concerned. His words came to her as though she was underwater, and she couldn't understand them.

  “Bill,” Reilly groaned through clenched teeth. “Can you understand what Roger is saying?” Bill shook his head. He said something else, but it was just as indistinct as the radio. A deep, almost inaudible tone was vibrating through Reilly’s skull, like the song of a whale deep in the ocean. She was afraid to ask Bill if he heard that as well. Already she was aware that the spectators to the experiment were staring at her. Blood was flowing freely from her nose now, making a mess of her desktop. What was happening?

  There was a crackling sound, and Roger’s voice became clear again. He was panting. “God! Oh God!” The winch was still spooling cable into the Door, but it was doing so much faster. Roger was running now, running away from the Door. Reilly could barely see now; her skull felt like it might split open at any moment. People were talking all around her, their voices colliding and mingling to become a wall of terrible sound, devoid of meaning. Roger was in danger. Reilly had to focus. Roger was running. He was in danger. She opened her mouth to tell Bill to reel the young explorer back in. “Reilly!” Roger screamed. “Reilly! Close the Door!”

  Bill seized the microphone by Reilly’s desk. “Roger! What’s going on!”

  “Close the Door!” He screamed again. “Close the damned Door right fucking now!”

  Someone had started up the winch, and the cable began winding itself back into the spool, presumably dragging Roger toward the Door, toward safety.

  Roger didn't stop screaming though. “No! Don't pull me out! You don't have time! Close the Door! It's almost…” Roger’s voice abruptly cut off, and his communication line became nothing but random snapping sounds and loud rattling. There was a loud grinding noise, and Reilly managed to lift her head enough to see the winch struggling to reel in a fully taut cable. Whatever was happening to Roger, the winch wasn't pulling him out anymore. The machine began to smoke and let out sparks, as whatever force opposed it forced it to grind against its engine. Suddenly, the cable went slack, and a moment later, the neatly severed end of it came whipping out of the door, narrowly missing Bill, who had moved to check on the machine. He picked up the cable, his eyes wide, and showed the end to Reilly. It had been neatly cut, though the end was corroded, as if by some acid.

  Everyone in the room gasped, and Reilly looked up at the portal in time to see the mirrored surface turn completely black. The Door shook, and the now opaque membrane began rippling and stretching—as if something was trying to come through. People were screaming. With the last of her strength, as the migraine robbed her of the ability to stand, Reilly slammed her fist down on the red button beside her workstation labeled ‘Abort’. There was a loud blast, like thunder, and the power went out. Reilly could no longer see through the pain. She could no longer stand. She fell to the floor behind her desk and curled into a ball, clutching her skull and waiting for it all to end. People were screaming. The great thrumming song was so loud in Reilly's head that she couldn't even think. She fell unconscious.

  Friday morning, Breach plus one hour, thirty minutes

  Reilly sat beneath the desk, clutching her phone and listening to the thing crashing around her lab. Occasionally, it would stop smashing things, and then the crunching sounds would begin. Reilly was pretty sure she knew what those sounds were, and she was equally sure that she didn't want to think about it. She didn't even know what the thing out there looked like. She'd woken up to sounds of the monster savaging her lab. There was no more screaming, and her headache was gone. Calling Maksim had seemed like a good idea, but now she wasn't sure. According to him, portals like the now defunct Door had been opening up all over the place. How could she trust that he could make it to her alive? How did she know he even would try? After all, Mack was a mercenary, and she wasn't paying him. She only knew him at all because he'd been working a federal contract as a secure courier for highly classified data. Reilly's project had been beyond top secret, and all her data reports were collected daily by Maksim for perusal by whatever secretive government agency had actually been funding her lab.

  Sure, Reilly and Maksim had maintained an ongoing flirty banter whenever they'd seen each other, and sure, there was some serious chemistry there—but Reilly doubted that the big merc would hesitate long in writing her off if he determined that getting to her was a suicide mission. These thoughts felt uncharitable and mean-spirited, but she couldn't deny the logic behind them. Maksim didn't owe her anything. He said he'd be there to help her in twenty minutes, and it was now pushing thirty-five since she'd ended the call. Either he wasn't coming, or he couldn't come, and Reilly was on her own. It was time to stop hiding under the desk. It was time for her to get moving. The monster in the lab was distracted. Maybe if she was careful, she could make it to the door before it noticed her. After all, its sense of hearing didn't seem to be very strong.

  Carefully, Reilly inched out from beneath the desk. The lab was dark, lit only by occasional bursts of sparks from the wreckage of the Door. She looked back at what remained of her life's work. The steel ring had been warped and bent in two places. A shower of sparks illuminated it for a moment, casting stark shadows on everything, and displaying the corrosion that had spread over the metal where the rings had been bent. She only got a glimpse of it, but it seemed to her like the metal had been crushed by a pair of gigantic hands. It was as if something had reached out of the Door and squeezed the frame out of shape like it was clay. She shuddered and turned back in the direction of the door. The monster was across the lab from her, and judging by the crunching and grinding noises coming from its direction, it was fully occupied at the moment. Reilly snuck a look in its direction at the next burst of sparks and got a glimpse of a broad, muscular back as the creature hunched over its meal. It might have been the back of a particularly muscular human, but for the long spikes that protruded from its flesh, all along its spine. It didn't have hair or fur; instead, its skin shone slick with something viscous that seemed to drip from its body as it moved, spattering the floor.

  Reilly shuddered, then turned for the exit. It wasn't far. She just had to make her way back around the dividing wall that separated the testing room from the rest of laboratory. The way out of the testing zone was closer to her than it was to the monster. She could do this. She just had
to be careful. She didn't dare stand. She crawled, slowly, deliberately, making sure that the floor in front of her was clear of things that would rattle or make noise before she moved. This was a task in itself since the lab was strewn with debris. It was also littered with enough…evidence that she was sure none of her colleagues had escaped the room. She didn't look at them. She couldn’t let herself think about that. It would be a very unfortunate time to suddenly be sick. She just had to keep it together and keep moving.

  Reilly was at the door from the testing area. The floor was blocked by a body. She tried not to look at it as she rose into a crouch and stepped around it, but she couldn't help but notice that it was the wrong shape in several places. However this poor person had died, it had not been pretty. Fortunately, whoever it was had died face-down, so that in the dark it was difficult for Reilly to tell who it was. She was glad she didn't know. She crept past the body and into the laboratory proper, then stopped to listen. The monster was still eating. Good. Cautiously, Reilly stood all the way up, so that she could get her bearings. The door was only one room further. She just had to cross the main lab, which was only about ten meters wide.

  Unfortunately, that thirty-foot stretch of the floor was littered with the remains of the laboratory testing equipment. Despite Lab 4B being a physics and engineering lab, they had possessed a full set of beakers and test tubes which rarely left the shelves. Reilly had never been able to get rid of them because according to her boss, the company stockholders wouldn't believe the place was an actual scientific laboratory unless there were ‘sciencey things’ all over the place. Some shell-shocked corner of Reilly's mind noted that this wasn't the first time that the stockholders had screwed her over. She wondered, somewhat ironically, if she would live for them to screw her over again.

  Reilly didn't have a choice. The glass would make noise. Noise might draw the creature's attention, or it might not. She couldn't stand there forever. She fixed her eyes on the door handle. She just had to get there. Just across the room. Five meters. Seven steps? Eight? She gritted her teeth and stepped forward. CRUNCH. It seemed unbelievably loud to her. But still, she could hear the monster chewing on bones. Okay. She took another step, winced at the noise, and moved again. The monster didn't react. Reilly took a deep breath and took three more quick steps. There. She was right there. All she had to do was step forward, reach out, and—. Reilly's blood ran cold as she realized that she couldn't hear the creature chewing anymore. She turned to look back to the testing area, hands shaking, her shoulders tense with fear. “Oh, no,” she groaned, as she saw the humanoid form silhouetted in the testing area door, its features concealed by darkness. She could hear it breathing. In the shadowed shape of its head, she thought she could see a cruel light reflected in its eyes. “Oh, fuck,” she mouthed. Neither of them moved for a long moment. They just stood there, watching each other. With horrifying clarity, Reilly realized that it was waiting for her to run. It was a predator. They liked to chase.

  Sparks blasted from the wrecked Door, and Reilly shrieked, turning and sprinting for the exit as fast as she could. The monster lunged at her, but she dodged to the side, missing the exit but escaping the first attack by little more than a few inches. The beast slammed hard into the wall but came back up at her faster than Reilly thought possible. She staggered back as it swiped its clawed hands at her in two heavy, overhand strikes, avoiding the nasty hooked talons by blind luck. She kept backing up, knowing it was futile, knowing it was over. She was being backed away from the exit. Soon enough she would—. Reilly's back struck the wall, and she knew she was going to die. The creature crouched in front of the exit door, ready to pounce. As another shower of sparks lit its face, she saw a hairless canine snout where humanoid features should have been. Its eyes, devoid of reason, glittered like beetle-shells beneath its brows. Its toothy jaws gaped wide in anticipation. Its body tensed, its muscles coiled, Reilly screwed her eyes shut, waiting for the end…

  The door to the lab exploded from its hinges like it had been hit by a truck. Reilly opened her eyes just in time to see the heavy steel slab hit the monster broadside, like the open hand of a giant. Door and beast both shot across the lab, carried by tremendous momentum, and slammed hard into the plexiglass dividing wall that separated them from the testing area. Bones broke, and the monster shrieked in pain, a high, piercing sound that hurt Reilly’s ears. She just stood there, shocked, blinking and trying to speak. Finally, she managed to squeeze out a squeaky, “What the hell?”

  A rifle barrel poked into the room, a little flashlight attached beneath it, shining LED brilliance down at the monster. The rest of the gun followed, along with the man holding it. Reilly realized that she had never fully appreciated just how big Maksim Sokolov really was. The Russian expat prowled into the room with grace that belied his size, gliding across the debris-strewn floor with sure, confident steps. He flicked a glance over at Reilly, but then snapped his attention back to the monster. It was still moving beneath the distorted shape of the door, though its motions were sporadic and twitchy. She couldn't be sure, but Reilly thought the impact might have broken its back. Maksim examined the monster for a moment, then, without ceremony, fired two shots into its head, ending its struggles completely. Despite herself, Reilly jumped at the gunfire, startled by how overwhelmingly loud it was. His work finished, Maksim lowered his rifle and turned back toward her. “Reilly,” he said, his Slavic accent creeping back into his words. “Are you alright?”

  Mack was dressed in black combat fatigues and a practical black windbreaker that fell to his thighs. His face was broad and honest, though the five o'clock shadow and the faint circles under his eyes gave him the aspect of a man more tired than he was dangerous. He reminded Reilly of great Kodiak bears she had seen in the zoo, dark eyes sleepy and melancholy, but hiding a capability for brutal violence that shocked her every time she saw his darker nature emerge. He didn't quite smile at her, but his expression softened out of its neutral mask by a couple of degrees. He took one hand off of his gun and held it out for her to take. “It's okay, Reilly,” he said. “You're safe now.” Unfortunately, as he said that, something in the building above them took that opportunity to let out a trumpeting bellow that shook the dust from the walls. Maksim's eyes crinkled at the corners with amusement. “Okay, so ‘safe' is a relative term. We need to move.”

  Reilly got herself back under enough control to sputter, “Y-you’re late.” She was too shaken up for good banter, but she wasn’t just going to sit there and shake. “I t-thought big-time mercs like you were supposed to be p-punctual.”

  Mack chuckled. “I got held up. I know a guy who flies a corporate mini-gunship. He said getting it off the airstrip was a bit of a job in itself.”

  “A gunship?” Reilly stared at him. “You came here in an attack helicopter?”

  Mack shrugged. “Flying seemed faster in this mess. And the pilot, Abdul owed me a favor.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Come on. We should probably go.”

  An idea struck Reilly. “Wait one moment.” The government was going to want her data. If portals were opening up everywhere, there was no telling how much damage this would do.

  “Reilly,” said Maksim, exasperation in his voice. “We really do not have time.”

  But Reilly didn't listen. She quickly stepped past the slain monster and the body in the doorway and made her way back to her control desk. The monitor was a smoldering ruin, but that didn't matter. The computer tower, which had been bolted to the desk, was still mostly intact. She didn't waste time being particular about it. Maksim was right. They did not have time to mess around. “Mack, I opened the Door that caused all this,” she said as she popped the side off the computer tower. “If it's as bad out there as you say, someone's going to have to fix this.” She reached into the innards of her computer, seized the little block that was the hard drive, and yanked it out. It was a little brick of memory storage, solid and well made. It was much more durable than the old disc drives, and she
was pretty sure it would survive the trip. “Okay.” She looked back up at Mack. “We can go.”

  Maksim led the way from the room, his movements tense and brisk. His body displayed the same sharply attuned focus as his face, every movement reminding Reilly of nothing so much as a well-oiled machine. She moved as if to take the stairs, but Mack held out an arm, stopping her. He shook his head, his expression tight with concentration. His eyes seemed to track something through the ceiling. After a moment, he muttered, “We won’t make it out that way. Too many mirrors in the building. We’ll have to get to the roof the same way I came down.”

  “Too many mirrors?” Reilly frowned, confused. “What do mirrors have to do with this?”

  Maksim stared at her incredulously, as if he couldn't believe she didn't know. He looked back at the ruined laboratory, and understanding crossed his face. “Of course you wouldn't know. All the glass in there was shattered, and there was too little light for anything to reflect at all.” He slung his rifle over one shoulder, then strode over to the elevator and forced his gloved fingers between the closed doors. He wriggled his fingers and pushed, and soon, his hands were fully between the heavy metal shutters, grasping the depowered doors firmly. As he worked, he spoke, in a low voice that did not carry. Reilly had to stand closer to him to hear properly. “They come from the mirrors,” he grunted, even as he forced the elevator doors apart with sure, steady pressure. The darkness of the great shaft gaped before him, but he did not seem bothered, even though there were many basements in the NextGen building, and there was a long way to fall.

  Reilly tried and failed not to shudder at the proximity to the dark throat of the building. She couldn't help feeling like it might shake and writhe and swallow them whole. She shook herself free of the strange thoughts. She was not usually prone to such childish fears, but today…today had been the sort of day to reignite the superstitious, frightened corner of her rational soul. It left her nervous in the presence of darkness; filled with anxiety over the things she could not see. She fought the encroaching terror the only way she knew how: by gathering information and trying to understand that which she did not. “The monsters come out of mirrors?”