by Mathy, Scott
Dwight searched the room for some kind of exhaust system, but only found a switch for a supplemental vitamin lamp, “Outside?”
“There’s a bank of EVA suits in an airlock near where we came in. I put one on, went out to the surface, climbed on the exterior of the elevator, and waited. There’s a matching entry on Acheron.” She brushed more of the dust from her hair, taking it out of the usual ponytail before vigorously shaking it.
He wanted to open the door to his unit to let the clouded air disperse into the hallway, but hesitated while Ellis was present. “Progress on my end: I believe I know where they have Bernard.”
Ellis stopped her dusting, raising a skeptical eyebrow, “Oh? I didn’t realize ‘go hide somewhere’ would be so productive.” She took a seat on the couch Dwight wanted so desperately to lay back down on.
Instead, he leaned against the corner desk, still trying to purge the contents of the ventilation shaft from his lungs. “Geller has some medication for you that you might find interesting. They’re all on it. He gave me some, saying it was for the radiation sickness we’ll be experiencing soon. It also has some pretty groovy additives.”
She scolded him, “You took an unknown drug created by the world’s worst mad scientist without checking with me first?”
He backpedaled, “Okay, yes, that was stupid. Positive side – the primary effects: cellular regeneration, nutrition, energy boost, all sound like someone we know.”
“You’re saying you think their wonder drug has something in common with our lost ‘friend?’” She spat the last word.
“It’s too much of a coincidence to be anything else. They’ve got the oaf stowed away somewhere nearby and are draining him.”
She closed her eyes, “Fine, let’s think our way through this. I’m Forest Geller. I’ve just discovered the miracle cure for pretty much everything. I’ve packaged it with all sorts of mind-altering chemicals, and can use it to keep a prison full of dangerous people healthy and compliant. I’d keep that golden goose as close to my home base as possible.”
“His lab?” Dwight guessed.
Ellis nodded, “Quite, and I’m sure the Warden has him under lock and key, if her annoyance at his behavior is any indication. They’re not going to give us access, if that’s their system of control.”
“Could we use the blood in the capsules to make the cure?” he asked.
“No, it’s the same problem as the serum itself: there are too many other things in the mix. I need a pure sample to process the antidote.”
Reminded of the spent cartridge in his artificial limb and the wavering effects of Geller’s drug, Dwight inserted the last dose of the serum he’d likely ever see. The flow brought life back to his exhausted muscles, “Twelve hours to go, Doc.”
She got up, moving under the hole in the ceiling. She motioned for him to join her, “Come here, I need a boost back up.”
He did as instructed, lifting the slight woman into the vent. Her weight felt like almost nothing against the support of the harness and fresh dose of Bernard’s toxic blood.
Her head peeked back over the edge, “I’m going to do some scouting. Stay put this time; I’ll be back before you know it.”
He sat down, unwilling to argue with the doctor, “I’ll do what I can, but I’m not exactly going to be able to say ‘no’ if they come.”
“Good point,” she concluded, “If you can help it, don’t die before I get back, and don’t break any of my stuff. Getting that bag down here undetected was enough of a challenge. Replacing it with whatever half-finished garbage Forest thinks he’s invented is not how I want to spend your last few hours.”
Twelve
Dwight waited, anxiously feeling his lifespan tick down with every agonizing second. By the time his frustration transitioned to resigned despair, he began to draft letters to each of the people back in New Haven that would care about his passing. It was a depressingly short list.
He addressed the first to Ian, admitting his nerdy roommate was the closest he had to an actual friend. He considered writing one to Lia, still waiting back at the portal, but couldn’t think of anything that she wouldn’t have already read from his mind. There was a quick goodbye to Linda, thanking her for the good times – and confessing he didn’t regret the bad so much anymore. He mentioned Molly, and that he wanted whatever his ex-wife thought would be best for the little beast. Finally, he put Wulf’s name on a fresh sheet of paper. Flipping it over, he wrote the words “Fuck” and “You” before folding it in half and placing it at the bottom of the stack.
Bernard’s face suddenly materialized over Dwight’s shoulder, “Come all this way jus’ to give up? ‘at’s not like the D I know.”
“Screw you,” Dwight said aloud, despite knowing he was arguing with a product of the serum poisoning his mind.
The image of Bernard took a seat on the sofa a few feet away, “Now ‘en, is ‘at any way to treat the source of all your misbegotten power? Where would you be if it weren’ for me an’ my blood?” the ghost waited, as though expecting an honest answer. “Nowheres,” it finally said, “I’d ‘ave killed ya back at StarPoint, or some other bit ‘o shit plannin’ would ‘av had ya dead.”
Dwight was growing increasingly agitated from the figment’s lecture, “Shut up! You’re not really there; you’re in some dark closet getting sucked dry by a pathetic weirdo!”
“’at might be right, but you’re still dyin’ because you wanted more’n you will ever be. You liked how much it felt to be like one of us. You wanted it so much, it’s killin’ you.” The phantom gave a sadistic chuckle, “You thought you was so smart, taking our power to kill us. So fucking poetic. Well, guess who ‘as the last laugh, D. Guess who gets to kill you after all.”
Dwight threw the only thing he had on hand – the pen – through the image’s head with all his might. The object predictably passed straight through, before embedding itself in the solid steel of the station’s wall. Beneath the layers of fatigue, a surge of Bernard’s stolen strength drove the object deep into the metal. Dwight panicked for a second, before realizing that the punctured wall wasn’t part of the base’s exterior.
The Bernard wraith continued its maniacal laughter, “Oh, D. You really got what you ‘ad coming; justice fucking served.” It faded away, laughter receding with it, back to the troubled corners of Dwight’s consciousness.
He took his letters from the desk and pushed the stack to the bottom of Ellis’s black bag, careful not to harm the sensitive contents. Finding a seat back on the bed, he waited for the Doc to reappear at the hole above him. As the minutes passed, he wondered how long it would be before she returned; more likely, the prison’s rulers would retrieve him first. At this point, he was fairly sure he stood no chance of fighting off the monstrous Grenn – or, based on the degeneration of his body, even the elderly Geller.
Dwight’s brooding was interrupted by the main lights of his unit suddenly losing power. Ominous red emergency lights kicked on, while an ear-piercing siren wailed every few seconds. Considering his chances of survival on an exploding lunar base, he stood, suddenly concerned with why his tour hadn’t included emergency procedures.
His first tactic – standing still and uttering a long string of profanity – yielded few results. His experiment over, he prepared to open the hatch to a hallway that he hoped still contained breathable air. Before he could turn the handle, Ellis dropped from the darkness of the ceiling with the grace of a dead cat. She collided with Dwight, the two falling to the floor in a tangle of bruised flesh and steel.
“Ow,” she moaned, “Sorry, my sabotage killed the lights; couldn’t see you there.”
Dwight groaned, “What did you do?”
She crawled away from the heap of metal and limbs that composed her companion’s body, “I set the nuclear reactor to cycle a few extra hundred times. It should cause fluctuations in the power systems, but nothing serious.”
“Then why does it sound like the world is ending!?” he shout
ed over the siren.
Ellis smiled, “I didn’t say that it wouldn’t look like a meltdown was imminent. You said they’d probably keep Bernard near Geller’s lab, and I reasoned that he’d be the one to come running to prevent a nuclear apocalypse. Your ex-partner should be relatively unguarded for the next twenty pants-shitting minutes.” The siren stopped suddenly, “Hmm, Geller is faster than I gave him credit for. He must have disabled the warning alarm.”
The Doc took a few gadgets from her oversized luggage and tucked them in the many pockets of her coat. She then unpacked the miniaturized chemistry lab, setting it on the work station at the back of the room. She regarded her creation with pride, “All we need is a little bit of fresh blood, and you’ll be good to go.”
The pair forced the door of the unit open and made their way through the darkened hall. Every few feet, a spinning red light created an eerie glow throughout the deserted wing.
As they made their way through the silent corridors, they walked past the forbidden hangar, still only illuminated by the ambient light of the lunar surface outside. The lone transport remained abandoned at the center of the sealed bay. Dwight couldn’t help but shiver, thinking of the lives lost on the deserted planet that had once been this universe’s Earth.
Dwight led the way back to Geller’s private lab. The massive creature who had stood watch over the scientist’s quarters was nowhere to be seen. Still, they crept low, keeping watch for anything amiss in the dimly lit corridor.
Dwight tried the touch pad on the exterior of the huge sealed door blocking their entry, but found that it, too, was without power. Ellis motioned for him to step aside. Taking an object similar to a sleek pen from her jacket, she held it close to an access panel built into the frame of the doorway. She tapped a button on its silvery surface to activate a thin blue laser. Sparks illuminated the hallway as she cut a square hole in the reinforced metal. Connecting her incision to its starting point, she disengaged the laser, and spun the device around. Another button triggered the powerful magnet built into the device. With a soft grunt, she pulled the material free and dropped both it and the cutting tool to the floor.
Dwight took a closer look at the discarded invention, “Single-use laser saw,” he concluded aloud.
“Exactly,” the doctor confirmed. “So many uses, and much cheaper to make than the last one I gave you.” She thought for a moment, “What ever happened to the second unit I made?”
“I gave it to Ian for protection,” he replied, waiting for her next gadget to make its debut.
Ellis stopped, “That’s some pretty serious pepper spray. Whoever surprises him is going to have a lot more to worry about than severe eye irritation.”
Dwight thought about the last request he’d made to Linda and wondered how the exchange had gone. He hoped his roommate hadn’t vaporized some Cape trying to take him out for dinner. Shaking the thought, he watched Ellis pull a refurbished smartphone and a cable from her jacket.
She delicately fed the cable through the still-glowing hole in the side of the heavy door, exceptionally careful not to touch the sides. “…And there’s the port,” she said, removing her hand and pulling the dangling wire tight to avoid the molten surfaces surrounding it.
She turned on the phone, booting its custom operating system while checking her watch. She paused, her fingers waving idly over the screen.
Dwight tapped his foot loudly, “What are we waiting for? There’s no power here.”
As if in response, there was a loud thump somewhere nearby, and the overhead lighting flickered on all around them. Through the small window of the door, Dwight saw row after row of ceiling panels come alive, revealing Geller’s messy workstations.
Ellis watched the scrolling text on her screen race by, occasionally tapping some option that moved too quickly for Dwight to read. Suddenly, the code stopped, reverting to a plain slide bar in the center of the screen. The device played a happy tune to celebrate its success.
Ellis bobbed gleefully along to the jingle, dancing her finger over the controls. She stopped when she noticed her accomplice’s judgmental gaze. “Oh, you’re no fun,” she said, swiping the bar upward, which parted the sealed door. “I set my little diversion to restore power to this section of the facility halfway through its sequence. We’ve got ten minutes before the reactor returns to normal, and they start looking for someone to blame.”
They entered the haphazard workroom, leaving the door wide open. She took the hacking device with her, careful to avoid the cooling gash in the frame. Ellis studied the available supplies strewn about the tables, occasionally plucking some scrap from the clutter and hiding it in her pockets. As she passed a table containing a particularly effective-looking rifle, the Doc paused to loosen several screws and extract a small glowing tube. She placed it on the flat surface of the table before shattering it with a nearby socket wrench. Her tampering finished, she tossed the tool over her shoulder. Dwight wondered if this was how all mad scientists worked: sabotaging and stealing from one another to prevent anyone else from dominating the field.
“Sloppy,” she muttered to herself as they explored the lab.
Dwight watched her pore over a heaping stack of schematics strewn over a nearby desk, “He kept calling you his student. I don’t see much of him in you.”
“Geller was and – if I’m reading all this correctly – still is a shortsighted incompetent. Back when I worked for him, he’d sell anything he created to whatever narcissist in a cape and boots came strolling into his volcano lair with enough money. Some of the worst disasters our world ever experienced were caused by a moron with a knack for superscience and a lack of morality.” She tore one of the sheets in two. “This is saving us all from some significant tragedies.”
“You don’t think it’s a bit hypocritical?” Dwight asked as she continued tearing up the document into smaller and smaller pieces.
She paused, “There is an astronomical difference between what we can do and what we should do. I promise, it may look like the things I invent are dangerous and random, but it’s the things I make that keep me from designing the things I shouldn’t. I understand they are not the same thing. There is a line I won’t cross.”
“I trust you,” he reassured her.
She moved past the disaster of a lab and came to another door. Through the window, Dwight could make out a hanging mass of cables at the rear of the faintly lit room. He found the entry switch beside the door. From the lack of security, he decided the chamber must have been a hastily-repurposed supply closet.
Inside, the room stank like burned meat. It reminded Dwight of nights spent at the diner, when the cooks cleaned the kitchen by scorching remnants of the day’s meals off the grill. As he stepped through the entrance, the automated lights raised slightly, revealing the source of the stench.
Bernard – the real one – hung naked at the back of the room, suspended by heavy chains and clamped to the wall by a series of machines. Where his limbs should have been, huge mechanisms clung to the stumps, occasionally pulsing with intense heat. The sizzling of the charred, endlessly-regenerating tissue filled the cell. He groaned under the breathing mask that obscured his drooped head.
Dwight trembled, his stomach violently turning at the sight of his tormented ex-partner. Guilt overtook him; his “mercy” had led to this. Ellis came around the edge of the door, satisfied with her sabotage. Upon seeing Bernard’s condition, she held her hand over her mouth, elation instantly transformed to horror. They both stood frozen, watching as the machine began to draw blood from a set of needles inserted into the giant’s neck.
“Goddess…,” Ellis said at last.
Dwight physically shook himself out of his stupor, “We have to get him down.”
Ellis obliged him by carefully approaching the machines attached to the traitor’s twitching body. She started tracing the connections of the mechanisms back to their source. Under normal circumstances, the Doc might have been careful to remove them without fu
rther damaging the patient, but for Bernard, that caution wasn’t necessary. Every second he was connected to the machine’s life-draining devices, his mind could be pushed beyond repair – assuming it wasn’t already.
She tugged the blood-extracting tubes from the man’s neck. At first, there was a gush of vital fluid as the needles left his skin, but within seconds, the flesh wove itself shut. Next, she removed the mask covering Bernard’s face. A thick line of drool went with it, splashing on the cold floor in a disgusting pool. His lax features remained oblivious of his rescuers, higher functions lost from the torture.
She began to inspect the connections to his severed limbs, trying to detach the heated fixtures suspending him in place while Dwight lifted Bernard’s head to meet his eyes.
“B, are you in there?” he asked desperately, testing the man’s recognition.
All the prisoner could manage was a moan and a rotation of his eyes around the room. Dwight released his grip, expecting the man’s chin to fall back to its prior position against his chest. Instead, Bernard’s eyes regained focus and his face twisted into a hateful snarl. “You,” he growled.
Bernard flailed viciously against his restraints, attempting to use all of his restored strength to tear himself free. The thrashing knocked Ellis to the floor; though briefly stunned, she scrambled backward with terror in her eyes. Bernard pulled violently against his bonds, but couldn’t break free, assaulting them with only a flurry of airborne spittle and barely-coherent homicidal rage. All the while, he roared obscene curses at his former partner, at Dwight’s alleged betrayal.
Ellis pushed herself further, finding purchase against the rear wall. Dwight backed away from the flailing superhuman, and waited impatiently. Finally, Bernard fell limply back into his restraints, his adrenaline spent.
Dwight waited for the giant to raise his shaved head again, “You done?” he asked, unimpressed with the display.
