Dr. Chandelling nodded and looked amused. “As good a name as any. I was calling it flying goat thingy. The official channels have been referring to it as a ‘faustling”’
“Have you discovered anything about it yet?” Sun asked.
“Not much.” Nessie frowned. “It was captured in the woods above the entry hatch a few days ago.”
The Head of Security, Rimmer, pulled at his scraggly beard and sniffed. “The weekly perimeter sweep discovered a pile of bodies in the clearing above. Dead mule deer, bobcats, big horn sheep. It was as if an alpha-predator had started wiping out all of the local fauna. When one of our security teams went out to investigate they found your batling feasting on the carcass of a cougar. They opened fire and tore the thing to pieces before bringing the remains underground. Within the hour it had completely healed and come back to life. Our subsequent attempts to harm it have resulted in temporary injuries at best.”
“Bub could regenerate by manipulating his DNA, and the DNA of other organic matter,” Sun explained. “He’s got these—stingers—in his palms. They’re like syringes. He uses them to inject some sort of DNA mutator serum into tissue. He created the batlings, and looked exactly like them, only larger. Stands to reason they have the same ability to heal as he did.”
Dr. Gornman nodded. There was a hint of disdain on her face, a slight narrowing of her eyes and downturn of her pointed nose. “That much is quite obvious. We need to discover the source of the ability, though. If we can harness the ability to heal instantly we can transform mankind. Just think of a world without injury, without disability. We would be the saviors of the human race.”
Sun leaned in closer. “You don’t think people tried figuring that out at Samhain? They had Bub locked up for over a century and gained nothing from him. It’s tempting fate to even try. Stopping him should be our only priority.”
“The Samhain facility was a relic, improperly administrated,” Gornman said. “Human error, and faulty protocol led to the security breaches there. Bub should have been brought here when he was discovered.”
“Why wasn’t he?”
“President Roosevelt didn’t trust anyone but the US to keep an eye on him,” Gornman answered. “Which turned out to be a huge mistake. They should have brought the creature to us, or to another Deus Manus facility. We have the very best security, the best technology, and the very best minds.”
“Okay,” Sun said. “Then I’ll ask again, what have you learned so far?”
Gornman made a face. “Nothing conclusive yet, but tests are ongoing. It’s just a matter of time until—”
“So you have nothing.”
Gornman folded her arms.
“We know that the thing does not sleep,” Dr. Chandelling said, scratching at his pockmarked chin. “We know that it feels pain, but not always. It can’t be killed. It doesn’t seem to get sick. We bombarded it with a few simple strains of flu and chickenpox. It contracted neither.”
“You can try every virus you have,” Sun told them. “Nothing will have any effect. The only thing we found that hurt Bub was radiation—and even that didn’t finish the job.”
Dr. Chandelling nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes. I read your debriefing after Samhain. I heard that you hit Bub with a huge dose of rads. I would be very excited to hear your experiences first-hand.”
“It’s not something we’re particularly comfortable talking about,” Sun said, “but we’ll share what we know. That batling you have locked up is part of something bigger. It can’t be a coincidence you caught it nearby. We need to figure out what Bub’s game is.”
Gornman shook her head slightly. “You’re over-reacting. Deus Manus has kept watch over thousands of dangerous creatures for thousands of years. We are more than equipped to handle a single batling.”
“Bub isn’t a giant spider or an imp,” Andy said. “He wanted to enslave mankind. And he had the means to do it. If that batling knows what Bub knew, and has his abilities, you all better put on some long rubber boots because we’re in some seriously deep shit.”
Gornman frowned. “The mistakes at Samhain were a combination of human and technical error. That can’t happen here. We’re much more technologically advanced than you were, and our staff is more experienced. It takes years to be inducted into the Order. Many, such as Dr. Nester here, are groomed since college to be inducted. The batling will be contained. The only threat to this operation is newcomers who don’t understand the protocol.”
Andy leaned forward on the table like an angry cop doing an interrogation, except he was the one being scrutinised. “I couldn’t care less about your
Order
. But if you treat that demon like it’s just another attraction in your crazy little zoo, it’s going to kill you, me, everyone here, and the whole goddamn world.”
“At ease,” Kane ordered. Then he addressed Gornman. “Andrew and Sun Dennison-Jones are here at the insistence of the President. They have full access to anything they need, and you’ll listen to what they’re saying. That’s an order.”
Gornman didn’t seem to like it. “What about that straggler you brought in with you? The English boy?”
“How do you even know about him?” Kane asked.
“It’s my job to know what’s going on around here, Austin.”
“No, Dr. Gornman, it is not. That is
my
job, and you may address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘General’. Now go and wait in my office.”
Gornman popped up from her seat, spun around and marched away with her heels clicking on the tiled floor.
Andy winced.
For a psychiatrist she seems to have some serious emotional issues.
“What’s with the Manx man?” Sun asked around. “What do you know about him?”
Dr. Chandelling sat up in his seat and grinned. “He’s very interesting, very fascinating. He’s like nothing we’ve ever seen before. Every test we run on him comes up implausible. He has cells, but no DNA, either in the nucleus or mitochondria. He has blood, but we can’t type it. No antibodies, no antigens, no leucocytes, no platelets—just plasma and red cells. He doesn’t eat, sleep, or…you know, go to the toilet. He’s just
there,
chatting away happily in that strange language.”
Andy rubbed a fingertip against the bridge of his nose and had a quick think. “Don’t you find it a bit weird?”
“It’s extremely weird,” Nessie said. “He’s kinda cute, though. I mean, in a devilish rogue sort of way.” When no one answered, Nessie looked at her shoes and said, “Nevermind.”
“I meant the timing,” Sun said. “Right before you catch the batling, you also have a mysterious, non-human stranger turn up and ask for Andy?”
“The timing could be entirely coincidental,” Dr. Chandelling said. “We can’t find any correlation between the two. The batling has terrestrial relatives. Lucas, as you call him, is something else entirely. They don’t seem to be related, at least, not organically.”
“Maybe spiritually?” Nessie said. She’d apparently recovered from her embarrassment. “Many ancient texts delve into the war between light and darkness, good and evil. It’s woven throughout history, regardless of culture or time. When the evil spirit shows up, a savior appears.”
“You think the Manx man is the savior?” Andy asked.
Nessie shook her head. “He could be. But he also fits into the mold of a prophet. Someone who foretells of a savior. Remember… he gave us your name, Mr. Dennison-Jones.”
Andy frowned.
If I’m the savior, then we’re all doomed.
Who do they think they are?
Dr. Gornman paced the floor of Kane’s office on level 2. The carpet beneath her feet was a deep pile and her heels caught every few steps, adding to her frustration.
I’ve dedicated the best part of ten years of my life to this facility. Is this any way to repay me? Letting outsiders come in and undermine me? Who does Kane think he is, chastising me in front of them? Without me his precious facility would grind to a halt. It’s not like that incompetent, misogynist fool, Chandelling, could take charge if I decided to leave.
That’s exactly what I should have done years ago. Left. With my experience I could work in any lab in the world. I only came here because I mistakenly thought I was doing some good in the world. But that was nothing but a fantasy. This isn’t God’s work. The Spiral is nothing but a prison—and like any prison it is ineffectual and does nothing to change the inmates. All we’re doing is warehousing a bunch of creatures that could be of real benefit if we actually did something with them other than keep them in cages.
This whole place is a paean to old-fashioned thinking. A bunch of flashy new computers doesn’t change that.
I could have gone somewhere else, where my skills would be appreciated, instead of deep down in this cesspool where nothing worthwhile ever happens.
But then, I would have missed out on these recent events…
“Dr. Gornman?” Kane entered the office and moved over to his desk. “Please, take a seat.” He gestured to the chair opposite.
Gornman dumped herself down, folded her arms.
Kane leaned forward on his desk and sighed. “Look, Doctor. You are a valued member of this team and undoubtedly the brightest person here.”
Gornman blinked. She wasn’t about to be swayed by flattery. She knew she was smarter than anyone at the Spiral—she didn’t need an antique General to tell her that.
“But when we have guests at this facility, it is our obligation to welcome them and to accommodate their needs.”
Gornman stayed completely neutral.
A twinge of frustration—perhaps even anger—flashed across Kane’s face. “The Dennison-Joneses are here at the request of the President via the Director of Homeland Security, who may I remind you is the Grand Registrar of the Order, like his father, and grandfather before him. We are sworn to follow his instructions to the letter. That is the oath you made, Dr. Gornman. Am I correct?”
“Yes.”
“So you will work alongside the Dennison-Joneses and avoid acrimony. But most of all, you will never again question my authority or circumvent my command of this facility. Is that clear, Dr. Gornman?”
Gornman gave no answer.
“Is. That. Clear?”
Gornman said softly, “Yes, it’s clear, General. I understand. I understand that my time here has amounted to absolutely nothing at all.”
Kane remained sitting. He kept his tone calm. “You are an ordained knight of the most secretive organization in existence, with access to secrets beyond most people’s imagination. But, as always, you are free to give that up. You can retire your membership and leave any time you want.”
You wish I would. But I have other plans.
“I advise against that, however,” Kane continued, “because your commitment here has not gone un-noted. I’m an old man, Dr. Gornman, and there are not as many Generals to replace me as there once were. The time of personnel-laden wars is over. Drones and computers have replaced flesh and courage. The Order does not have access to the human resources it once did.”
Gornman stayed silent, letting the man talk. It was one of her strengths.
“You heard about Oklahoma? Their new Head of Facility?”
Gornman nodded. “Dr. Gary?”
Kane blinked slowly. “Yes,
Doctor
Gary. The order is changing its policies. It is no longer a given that a facility head position is only available to those who have served in the military. Before Dr. Gary was promoted, he was doing your job.”
“Are you saying that I could be in charge here?”
Kane nodded. “I am saying that you most likely
will
be in charge when I’m gone. But only if you show that you can follow orders and respect the chain of command. The Senior Wardens won’t accept someone questioning them.”
Gornman took it in, made it fit into her head. Then she nodded. “I understand. I wasn’t thinking about the bigger picture. I allowed my ego to take over. I felt like I wasn’t being given the credit I was due.”
“The thing about credit, Dr. Gornman, is that it takes a long time to accrue but can be lost in a heartbeat.”
“I won’t question you again.”
“Good. You can go now.”
Gornman stood up and hurried for the door.
“And Dr. Gornman,” Kane said before she exited.
Gornman turned around. “Yes?”
“One more thing. I was reviewing some security footage, and saw you at Cell 4 with the faustling. You were holding pieces of paper up to the glass but not speaking.”
That’s because I didn’t want you hearing me, you voyeuristic fossil. I knew you had nothing better to do than spy on your personnel.
“I was showing it some pictures, trying to gauge its intellect.”
“What pictures?”
“A variety. Animals, landmarks, famous people. Just trying to provoke a response. Obviously it didn’t work. Its first communication was with the Dennison-Joneses.”
General Kane tapped his fingers together. “I see. Dismissed.”
Gornman left the office, hiding her smile as she did.
Breakfast was as over-the-top as everything else in the Spiral, and Andy’s stomach had been overwhelmed by the selection offered by the cafeteria buffet on level 4. Through the kind of anomaly only possible at breakfast buffets, he had somehow ended up with a bowl of muesli, a plate of eggs, several slices of bacon, some yogurt, and a banana. It was a strange selection, but he wasted no time in digging into it all.
Sun had opted for a lighter breakfast of an apple and two slices of toast.
Both of them had slept well; the bed in their suite being even softer than the one they had been given in the Coronado the night before. Now that a new day had begun, they were both ready to get to work.
“I can’t believe how different this place is from Samhain.” Andy said as Sun bit into her Granny Smith. “The produce alone is a revelation.”
Samhain had fed its staff from two large freezers, with deliveries being sparse.
“I guess things have changed,” she said. “Now the government hides its secrets in plain sight. They probably bring supplies in here every day and gag any attempts to bring attention to it. The Press may as well have their paychecks signed directly by the US treasury these days.”