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Crafted Scenes, Cognitive Scraps, and Coffee Stains from a Techie/Thinker/Writer/Musician

The Halferne Incubus: Chapter 23

Serah decided there was little point in concealing intentions or motives at this point. The shade knew who she was and where she was going. It was a footrace now. She used her personal credit account to rent a taxi for the 75 km ride. She even considered pulling out her datapad and sending a message to Henry, detailing everything she had learned, just in case the worst happened, but decided it would still be foolish to involve him or anyone else she knew. If they were even still alive, she thought.

No. She had to finish this alone.

The transport dropped her off at the welcome center for the Abby. Helpful signs indicated the structure was at the end of a two-kilometer trail through the woods. Knowing that there were no electronics or surveillance on that path allowed her to relax for the first time in days. The informational displays at the entrance explained that this was a historical and natural preserve, where everything had been restored and reconstructed to its mid-15th-century state.

Everything except what lurked beneath the carefully preserved surface cap, she knew.

The sun was setting as she approached the necropolis that lined the outermost portion of the Abby grounds. In the distance, she saw the remains of the monks’ quarters, built above a series of catacombs. This seemed the best place to start.

She looked around, assessing the surroundings. There were no tourists in sight, and it seemed this was not an overly popular attraction. Nor was there any sign of an advanced data center, however. Maintaining the front as a historic site and nature preserve probably kept the curious at bay, but there must be at least one subtle marker for invited guests to recognize the entrance. The facility was public knowledge, after all.

She spent the better part of an hour exploring the chapel, meditation rooms, and catacombs before wandering back up to the surface again, completely dejected. The sun had set, and the moon had not yet risen. She was in almost complete blackness. She listened intently for the sounds of any unnatural structure or power source but heard only the chirps and whistles of wildlife in the black woods that surrounded her.

Suddenly, she caught it. A faint light was winking on and off in a regular rhythm some twenty yards into the trees. It hadn’t been there before. Someone was signaling her in. She made her way through thick foliage until she came upon the source, a small, two-meter by two-meter bunker. A glow panel above the door shut off as soon as she approached. It could not have been a main entrance, as there was no pathway leading to it and barely any clearing around it. It was most likely some sort of fire escape or emergency exit.

She tested the latch, which noiselessly and effortlessly opened the door, revealing a small lift. Without thinking twice, she entered, closed the door, and, finding no reason not to play along at this point, pressed the single activation button on the wall.

The lift quietly descended for almost a full minute and gently stopped at what she estimated must be at least 200 feet underground. The doors parted, and Serah found herself in an ornately decorated lobby. Artificial lighting gave the appearance of daylight, and plants grew happily in potted displays all around. Hallways led from the room in six different directions.

Behind a desk at the far end of the room, an image of a woman materialized, engrossed in a display that didn’t appear to be work-related. She seemed startled to see anyone walk out of the lift.

“Hello, and welcome to Alabron,” she said in a tone that didn’t clarify whether Alabron was the name of a luxury resort or an evil corporation, matching the room’s sterile gray décor in refusing to commit to one image or the other. “Can I help you?”

Serah took the opportunity to establish the upper hand. Putting on her best air of confidence, she strode toward the desk. “Yes, Serah Wyles to see Dr. Stevn Ellis.”

The receptionist closed the display she was looking at and opened a new one. After scanning it for a moment, she frowned. “You have an appointment?”

“Well, obviously, or I wouldn’t be all the way out here,” Serah said, attempting to sound perturbed.

A display on the wall behind the woman flickered on as the woman began typing, in plain English, the only use of the language Serah had seen in the complex up to this point.”W-I-L—”

“No, with a ‘Y,’“ Serah corrected.

The woman finished entering Serah’s name, waited for a few seconds, and frowned. “I’m sorry, Ms Wyles. I don’t have you on Dr. Ellis’ calendar at all. If you like, I can try to schedule something for tomorrow—”

“No,” Serah demanded. This can’t wait. Can you call him?”

“I’m afraid he can’t be disturbed. There’s a private terminal over there if you’d like to leave him a message, however.” She pressed a few items on her display and gestured to one of a half-dozen low-rising cubicles set into the far wall. I’ve keyed his private address to the terminal for you.

“Thank you,” Serah said and hurried across the room as the receptionist winked out of existence. They were very trusting to leave a stranger alone in their lobby, she thought. There was no apparent security in terms of cameras or sensors that she could see. Perhaps they were hidden.

A small group of people entered the room from one of the hallways. Two were dressed in expensive suits, in the local fashion. They flanked three others, all dressed in long white coats, possibly lab coats or some form of surgical gear. All of them spoke in low volumes in a language that didn’t appear to be English or French, as far as Serah could tell. She suspected it was an off-world dialect of some sort. They paid no attention to her as they passed through and disappeared down a hallway on the opposite side of the room.

None of the personnel she had seen so far had borne any kind of visible identification or credentials, and none of the hallways were labeled with distinguishing names or directions to other areas of the complex. Everyone here must be thoroughly familiar with their co-workers as well as the layout of the facility. Either that, or they were all equipped with an implanted heads-up display that fed this information as they moved about. Either solution would be inconvenient for a visitor who wasn’t so equipped, and Serah hadn’t seen or been offered any equivalent device at the reception area. She decided she could get these answers later. The important thing now was to find Dr Ellis.

She stepped into the alcove and glanced at the communications screen the receptionist had indicated was set for his private address. There was only one word in the middle of the screen.

MOLOCH

She froze in terror. The unambiguous meaning was clear: the shade was here. Why would it announce itself, however? Surely, having failed so many times to kill or capture her, it would be to its detriment to warn her and put her on alert. So, if the message was not from the shade, it must be from her unseen ally. It made sense. It was likely that the shade, who was busy crawling around in Yvet’s mind at the time of the poetry reading, would not even know the significance of the word. It made sense; the word had an unambiguous meaning to her as a warning, but was a completely obscure reference to anyone who happened to be watching or listening in.

Another group of people entered the room, apparently sharing a joke. A handsome fair-haired man in a silver suit indicated he would catch up with them later and started walking toward Serah.

“Serah Wyles?” he smiled and hurriedly extended a hand, “I’m Dr. Dominic Cerny. I work with Dr. Ellis. We’ve been expecting you.”

Serah shrank back, confused, then slowly shook the man’s hand. “Expecting me?”

“Yes, I’m sure you have no end of questions about what’s been going on for the past few days.” Cerny’s tone was cordial enough, but he spoke almost frantically with an underlying urgency.

“That would be an understatement, Dr. Cerny.” She smiled politely.

“If you will come with me, Dr. Ellis is setting up a presentation just over here.” He grabbed her arm gently and started to lead her down one of the hallways.

Serah froze, then slowly backed away from the man, who let his grip slide off her. “I really think I should wait for Dr. Ellis, personally,” she said. Obviously, it was a bluff. She wouldn’t know Dr. Ellis if she saw him. She could only hope Cerny, if that’s who he really was, didn’t know that.

“Ms. Wyles, I understand you’ve been through a lot. I assure you, we’re all on the same side here.”

“Maybe so, but all the same, let’s just wait for Dr. Ellis,” Serah said, making sure not to divulge anything she might know or suspect to Cerny.

She caught a glimpse of the communications terminal out of the corner of her eye. It displayed a new message.

NOT SURE WHO TO TRUST EITHER. STAY ALERT. HELP IS COMING. MAK.

Mak! So that was who had been helping them ever since Calais. She wondered if he knew more than she did about what was going on. Fortunately, from his vantage point, Cerny could not see the screen, so if this was the shade standing in front of her, Mak was still in the clear. However, if the shade was somehow in the Alabron network, Mak had revealed himself.

She heard voices and footsteps hurriedly approaching them from multiple directions. Confidently, she stepped to her right, putting Cerny’s back to the monitor as he faced her. At least a dozen people entered the room, a mixture of men and women in suits and white coats. The last to enter the room was a uniformed individual, presumably a security guard. A plaser sat in a holster on his hip. He made no indication that he intended to use it.

“What seems to be the issue?” one of the white-coated men asked. It was unclear who he was addressing.

“This woman is a trespasser,” Cerny said hurriedly. “Take her into custody.”

Serah held her hands open at shoulder height, “Please wait. My name is Serah Wyles. I just need to speak to Dr. Stevn Ellis.”

“I’m Dr. Ellis.” A portly older man holding a steaming beverage stepped out from behind the group and eyed Serah, confused. Almost instantly, Serah caught the familiar aroma of Thurinese oolong tea emanating from his cup, and something deep in her mind said this man could be trusted.

“Dr. Ellis, I was sent here by Professor Halferne,” she said, hoping nothing more needed to be said.

Ellis’ jaw dropped. “Halferne?! Who are–”

The sound of a fire alarm cut him off. The room lights brightened and turned red. Serah turned and saw Cerny had pulled a plaser from his jacket. With an almost inhuman reflex, he fired two shots into the chest of the security guard and, before the man had collapsed to the floor, managed to fire two more shots at Dr. Ellis, who grabbed his shoulder and staggered backward.

Not knowing what else to do, Serah leaped at Cerny, grabbing his wrist and trying to keep the gun pointed away from Ellis. Everyone else ran for the nearest hallway or ducked behind the closest piece of furniture. A man and a woman knelt over Ellis, assessing his wounds and attempting to drag him behind the reception desk. Serah kept a grip on Cerny’s left hand and desperately kicked his knee with her right foot. Cerny did not falter, so she clawed his face with her right hand to distract him into dropping the weapon. With a grunt of rage, he flung her to the floor halfway across the room. She landed hard on her right side, two meters from the fallen security guard. She could just make out the still-holstered sidearm on his waist. Stumbling on her hands and knees, she leaped at the plaser, freed it, and raised it in front of her as she rolled onto her back.

Cerny was still recovering his balance, apparently deciding whether to aim at Ellis or Serah. Without hesitating, Serah closed her eyes and pulled the trigger twice, heard the sound of the plaser, felt the recoil and the warmth of the blasts, and then, with her ears ringing, slowly opened her eyes again. The fire alarm ceased wailing, and the lights returned to normal. Cerny examined his chest, where one of Serah’s shots had found their mark. A look of confusion came over his face as he fell to his knees and dropped his gun. Then, falling over on his side, Serah saw that he was fumbling with a wrist terminal.

“Listen to me, it’s some sort of alien–” Serah began, but realized there was no time to convince them and simply screamed and dove at Cerny. She tore the neural connection out of the port behind his ear and began frantically trying to pull the terminal off his wrist. Suddenly, the words found their way into her mind from somewhere. “Code black!” she shouted, wondering where the words had come from.

Everyone suddenly stopped and stared at her. Seconds later, the security guards disconnected their neural jacks from their wristbands. The holo of the receptionist vanished, and the terminal behind the desk went dark.

“Mak! Isolate his wrist terminal!” If Mak wasn’t in time, she was certain the shade could pass from the terminal back into the Albaron network or even the Phrame in a matter of seconds. Panicked, she stepped back, aimed carefully, and fired at the terminal. It exploded in a shower of sparks, taking most of Cerny’s hand off with it. The man growled like a wounded animal and quickly began looking for another exit. This wasn’t the madness. The shade was still trapped in his mind.

Thinking fast, she turned and ran for the alcove and Mak’s terminal, extracting her datapad from her bag as she ran. Cerny jumped up, tackled her, and wrenched the pad away. He fumbled for the ugly, oversized neural jack, freed it, and connected it to the port on his neck. The guards, having finally caught on, began to rush towards him, but Serah leapt in front of them, arms outstretched to keep them away.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” Serah whispered angrily and flashed Cerny a thin smile.

Cerny ignored her once he had the jack connected. Within seconds, his eyes were ablaze with the madness she had seen too many times in the last few days. Then suddenly, he stopped, his gaze fixing on a point that seemed to be miles away, and his body went limp.

Serah grabbed the isolated pad from Cerny and tossed it to the guards. “He’s trapped in there. Disable the transmitter before he activates it from inside and gets back into the Phrame.” The guard hesitated momentarily, then gingerly pressed a series of commands on the pad and deactivated it.

Two more guards entered the room, this time with guns drawn and aimed squarely at Serah, who felt herself staggering around the room. She was trying to make sense of what was happening. The dead bodies, the sound of gunfire, and the panic of being within seconds of dying all seemed so familiar. She felt something deep in her memory, urgently trying to come to the surface, like an elusive memory or forgotten idea.

She caught the scent of Ellis’ tea again and saw a wet stain on the floor where he had spilled his cup after being shot. The sensation instantly became stronger. “The tea!” she said excitedly, looking around for the cup. She found it lying on the side next to his body and righted it. There was approximately half a swallow still left at the bottom. Without thinking, she raised the cup to her lips and downed the last of its contents.

There was instant euphoria. The lights seemed to dim, and colors suddenly became less vibrant. Sounds, while still audible, were slightly muted. Then, she felt her mind detach from her body. Her vision seemed to recede, and she suddenly felt as if she was watching the whole room from a monitor screen.

The security guards were shouting orders at her, but she-or someone else–lifted her finger as if telling them to wait a moment. Her body walked over to Dr. Ellis, and she was keenly aware that she was no longer controlling it.

She examined Ellis’ wound for a moment. There was a particularly nasty burn where he was struck squarely in the shoulder between the clavicle and the humerus. She noted the second shot Cerny had fired had damaged the wall behind him. “It’s not fatal, but I’ll bet it hurts like hell,” she heard herself say, though she was sure she wasn’t the one who said it.

“It doesn’t tickle.” Ellis winced and looked at her confused, then motioned for the guards to stand down as she helped him to his feet. “I suppose I owe you thanks for saving my life, but for now, please tell me why you’re here and what’s happening.”

Serah gestured at the now-defunct terminal. “It finally happened, Stevn. They’ve found us.”

Ellis looked at the disabled terminal in horror.

“Just one, probably investigating the shockwave from the Iotia q-gate, but that means they’re closer than we suspected,” she continued. “We can’t let it get away. It has to stay contained.”

“What do we do with it?”

“They’ll notice if we destroy it. Fortunately, I’ve got the access codes to the Yama archive. We can store it there and tag it as a Military SI that’s gone rogue to ensure nobody tampers with it. It’s not far from the truth anyway.” Serah continued to watch, amazed at what was apparently her subconscious rambling. She was surprised that anyone made sense of what she was saying.

Ellis nodded. “Where’s Professor Halferne now?”

“Stevn, it’s me! I AM Halferne!” Serah heard herself say.

Ellis was dumbfounded. “Abil?! What did you do?”

Serah shook her head. “It was right behind me every step of the way. There was no way I could stay ahead of it all the way here, but you were my only hope. I managed to do a complete neural transfer before it found me. It was a last resort, but you know what’s at stake if that thing reports back,” she said.

“Yes, but how did you…” Ellis gaped in astonishment, and his face went white. If Serah had any control of herself, she no doubt would have as well. “Then, she’s one of your—”

Serah/Halferne held up a hand to keep him from saying more. “I’m sorry, Serah,” she heard herself say. We’ll have all of this sorted out soon. Don’t worry,” she said, and suddenly, her senses went dark. It wasn’t like sleep, more like someone turning off a video display. 


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