Be sure to have read the first part before reading the conclusion of this novella.
Memories..
A shrill cry woke Rayburn from his pleasant daydream. Hurriedly he jumped up from his desk covered with charts, and the rough draft of the speech he intended to use for the award ceremony that night. With trepidation he quickly ran for the door to his office and into the main laboratory. At the opposite side he saw a slightly older woman, standing before a virtual machine. Sitting in the machine with nodes running all over her body, and a helmet securing her vision, was the source of the shill screams, a twelve year old girl that was shaking back and forth and struggling against the restraints that held her down.
With a loud shout of anger, Rayburn ran to the other side of the room, and reached across the older woman, to turn off the virtual reality machine. The girl’s cries were cut off almost as abruptly as the machine was although she continued to breathe in ragged gasps and moans. Quickly, Rayburn reached over and undid the helmet on the girl’s head, and took off the restraints. Instantly the small girl curled up into a tight ball wrapping her hands around her knees. Ignoring her for a moment Rayburn turned to the woman, who he had once been very close friends with and angrily shouted, “What the hell do you think you were doing to her, Wei?”
Behind him the girl left out a startled cry, and then began to softly whimper. Instantly regretting his loud yell, he reached behind him and patted the girl on the head, though he continued to stare at Wei angrily. Wei watched his attempt to comfort the girl with disgust before replying, “You really shouldn’t do that Sam. Your not supposed to coddle the subjects I think it’s the main reason we’ve been falling behind in our studies. You keep trying to shelter them and that’s just hurting them when they get to their next phase of training. Our last report said that half the children are absolutely unsuitable for military work, they crack under the slightest pressures. Do I need to remind you that if they aren’t suitable for military research then we lose the funding and you lose this project?”
Rayburn ignored her threat for the moment, and steadily repeated his question, “I’ll repeat again what were you doing to the girl?”
Wei gave an exasperated sigh before replying, “She has some traits that will definitely make her crack under military training, including an intense fear of the dark. She still believes in such antiquated notions as ‘boogie men’ and ghosts and the like. I was merely exposing her to those fears so she could realize that it was all in her mind.”
“By what programming up a virtual program out of her worst nightmares? That’s inhuman Wei!”
“It’s not inhuman, it’s expedient, and that’s very human. After all I’m just trying save our project. If you weren’t so busy rushing to award ceremonies, or prattling along to visitors about your pet projects, you’d see the larger picture. We’re losing support from the military, and from the Senate, pretty soon we might even lose Sturmrath’s support, and if we lose that we can all give up ever getting grants to do any kind of research again.”
Rayburn stammered in the face of her own angry assault, and felt his own temper brush close to the snapping point, behind him the girl, whimpering became louder. At that moment, a younger man walked in, eyes on his notebook. Hearing the whimpers he looked up and immediately determined the tension in the room. Rayburn turned to him and said, “Hammerstein, thank god you’re here, talk some sense into Wei she’s becoming dangerously unstable.”
Hammerstein, was silent a moment, before he shook his head softly and replied, “No, Sam, you’re the one who’s becoming unstable. Your losing sight of the real issues here, and it’s starting to show in your work too. In fact, I’ve just gotten back from a conference with Sturmrath, and he has given us the go ahead to continue breaking the children of their unacceptable irregularities in behavior.”
Rayburn stood open mouthed and shocked at the betrayal, and quietly turned away from the look of triumph that flashed across Wei’s face. Numbly picking up the child, he patted her head in an attempt to console her, although he was no longer sure if it was for her benefit or his. With what remained of his tattered dignity, he walked out of the lab with the little girl.
The little girl clung to his coat and began to whimper inside, and almost distractedly he called to her, “It’s all right dear there are no monsters here.”
Angrily, Wei moved to block Rayburn’s exit through the door and demand the return of the girl, but Hammerstein forestalled her, “Don’t worry we’ll have plenty of time to work on the subject later.”
‘The subject.’ The words rang coldly, and cut straight to Rayburn’s heart as he stepped across the doorway for the last time, as he wondered if maybe the girl was right to be afraid of monsters.
* * *
A faint rush of nervousness greeted Rayburn as he entered through the door into the study and found himself meeting the uncomfortable glare of the portrait of William Sturmrath once again. The affect was diminished this time by the decay of the room. Indeed to say that the study had fallen into a state of decay would be like saying that the rest of the manner had fallen into a slight state of disrepair. The chamber was dark, lit only by the desk lamp and the table that had been installed within. In front of him he caught a slight uncomfortable odor, and wondered if perhaps some of the furs that adorned the floors had lost their protective coatings. He even detected the slight buzzing of some insect, a sure sign that with the passing of Michael Sturmrath, this study had not seen any use or care.
Behind him he saw, Jessica her eyes wide open, and was astounded at the flash of pain that he saw painted on her face then with a steadying shake of her control she regained control of herself and smiled at Rayburn.
As he walked in he debated what he should say to his previous colleagues, but as he sat down in his own seat the occupant of neither chair even turned to make eye contact. He waited an uncomfortable moment, but Dr. Wei and Hammerstein said nothing in greeting, brushing him of with stony silence.
Jessica who walked around the chairs and sat down at the desk was the one to break the silence. She pleasantly smiled, “Well now that you are all here, and have…’exchanged pleasantries’ I can bring you to the matter of Michael Sturmrath’s last will and testament.”
Reaching into a manila envelope she pulled out a slim round disk, then reaching across the desk, she pulled out a small square box, and gently inserted the disk into the box. With a faint click and a soft whirring sound the machine activated, and a holographic picture sprang into being in the air.
At first glance Rayburn was astounded at how far Michael had descended in his final days. His face was covered with bruises and scar tissue signs that his debilitating illness had truly been a nasty one. But it was his eyes that most shocked Rayburn, because in all his dealings with Michael Sturmrath both good and bad, he had never seen the man’s eyes betray the slightest hint of emotion. In the holovid those stoic eyes were spread wide, pupils dilated with fear and stark terror so powerful that a sympathetic chill ran up Rayburn’s own spine. Then he at last began to hear what Michael was saying, and that chill of terror deepened to an icy grip.
“Please…don’t do it. Don’t kill me…please I’ll give you anything you want, anything…I swear I never meant it to turn out this way it was supposed to help…”
Rayburn watched in open mouthed horror as the man that had brought him the most grief and misery, had stood an unconquerable opposition in all his paths, pleaded, abject and broken. Looking to Jessica he angrily shouted, out, “What is this some kind of sick joke?”
Jessica rose, her cheerful demeanor fell away to be replaced by a cold mask of dark emotions. In her eyes, a gleam of insane hatred to match Michael’s unreasoning stare of terror shone forth coldly. With cold precise steps of a trained killer she stalked the edge of the desk and came around to sit against the front. Then with a quick gesture she rotated Dr. Wei and Hammerstein’s chairs. The sight that greeted Rayburn brought a surge of bile up his throat.
The grinning corpses of both doctor’s sat in their seats, insects pouring forth from their mouths and the ruined holes that had once been their eyes. In the center of each forehead was a single hole made undoubtedly by a bullet. Reflexively Rayburn brought up his cane, placing it as a meager defense between him and Jessica. With a dismissive wave she spoke, “That small stick wont do you any good, Rayburn, surely you should know that. If I wanted I could kill you right now with ease, you know my military training was more than good enough.”
With a weak shudder, Rayburn at last fully grasped what was before him. “You’re one of them…one of the children.”
Jessica allowed a smile to creep across her face colder than even the hollow ones that had once crossed the face of the previous man to stand at that desk. “Yes I’m one of those children, one of the ones that bear the scars that you and your cohorts have marked on us for the rest of our lives.”
Pleadingly Rayburn spoke, “But I never meant, for…”
“Never meant for what? For little girls and boys to have their minds ripped open? To have them exposed to their worst nightmares day in and out, in the name of conditioning? To steal away our entire youth because we had the misfortune to be born able to feel and hear other’s thoughts? You may not have meant it, but you let it happen. You were the one who gave the idea life, who nourished it at the beginning, and let it grow into what it became.”
“But I ceased my work, I stopped my projects.”
“You stopped your projects, but what about theirs?” Jessica motioned towards the dead doctors.
“And what about Sturmrath? You sat back and let them continue working their program twisting our minds, making us monsters! This was your creation as much as theirs if not more Rayburn and you chose to let it go on. And every choice has a price, even the choice to do nothing, be ready to pay yours!”
With a steady hand, she lifted a pistol from the desk and pointed it straight at Rayburn..
* * *
Memories
The imposing figure of William Sturmrath glared down on the scene, watching the drama unfold calmly. Rayburn stood pale as a sheet, staring at the pistol aimed at him in shock. At the other end of the pistol Michael was playing with it’s aim while fondling the casing..
“You know it’s one of the new explosive cartridges,” Michael spoke matter of factually, “when the bullet impacts it will leave a foot wide hole behind.”
Then turning his eyes from the gun, Michael looked back at Sam and a disappointed frown crossed his face.
“Sam, I expected so much better from you, why on earth would you come in here, with such a weak tired old threat like that? You wouldn’t have the nerve to tell the world about the projects less pleasant aspects, because you know that if I even thought you would consider it I’d kill you myself. I’ve worked too hard for this project to let one insignificant insect stand in its way. And let’s face it, I’m much better with the public than you. The minute you go cry to them, I’ll make it look like you were the one who was pushing to have the experiments go too far. You’ll go from public hero, to public enemy in a matter of days. Besides I know other secrets about you Sam Rayburn, secrets that you would never want anyone else to know now.” Michael broke off there, looked right at Sam, and then tapped his own hand with the end of his gun, and gave a conspiring wink. In response Rayburn crouched even further back into his seat in terror, as Michael continued his scornful tone fading into a more pitying one. “I’m sorry, to have to threaten you with this Sam but you should have just stuck with the research and the little awards, I could have made you the most decorated scientist in the history of the Confederacy researching the thing you loved! And you choose to repay me with treachery?”
Nervously Rayburn stared at the gun and choked out the only question still on his mind, “Does that mean your going to kill me?”
The hollow smile touched Michael’s face, as he replied, “No, I’ve already taken away your life’s work, that’s more than enough punishment. However, I think I will leave you with something to remind your mistakes and the price of your actions.”
With a blur of speed too fast to follow, Michael shifted his aim, from Sam’s heart down to his right foot, and pulled the trigger. The singular sound of the explosive round leaving the bullet caused a lurch in the pattern of beating in Sam’s heart, and in the next moment the blinding agony shattered the grip of his paralyzing fear. .
* * *
A piercing scream followed the firing of the gun, and that finally broke off the paralyzing memory. Wonderingly Rayburn looked down at his body, ‘so this is what it’s like to die?’ Then a painful twinge from his right leg that had been balanced far too long in an uncomfortable position startled him. ‘Even in death I can’t get away from Sturmrath,’ he thought bitterly. Then the logical side of his mind reminded him sternly that there should be no pain in death, and what’s more the screaming wasn’t his.
Taking stock of his surroundings, he saw the hunched over form of Jessica leaning against the desk screaming madly. Beside him he saw the smoking hole where the bullet aimed for his own head had pierced the seat instead. Then he heard what Jessica was screaming.
“Get out of my head, Rayburn! Stop showing me your memories!”
Fearfully Rayburn got up, and crept backwards towards the door, while Jessica lurched forward still blinded by whatever assaulted her mind, waving the pistol and firing frantically. Then a light entered her voice as she spoke, “Your one of us aren’t you doctor. That’s why you were afraid to come forth, that’s the secret Michael held over you. You couldn’t admit it to the world, because everyone would find out you were one psychic too. You’re worse than a coward, you’re a traitor to every last one of us.”
Shaking his head in useless denial, Rayburn almost cried out a response, when he realized that, doing so would be falling into her trap since it would give away his position. Instead he cautiously edged towards the door, and when his hand at last closed on the doorknob, he slammed it open and rolled into the outer hallway. Above his head bullets whizzed by and he unsteadily rose to his feet. Then in a mad hobble he headed through the halls for the main door. His hand was in his pocket depressing the emergency feature on his communicator, knowing in his heart the Confederate Security Forces would never arrive in time. To distract his mind he ran over all the children who had been in the program, desperately trying to figure out which one was no crazily intent on killing him. It was no use he couldn’t remember one named Jessica.
As he stumbled, through the hallway he passed a window and saw that the storm outside flared on even more violently. The rain hammered against the window and the lightning flashed violently. Following the ominous crash of thunder he heard a similar crash as a large vase that had been decoratively set on one side of the door fell over. He stared at the downed vase, daring to hope it was an accident when the one on the other side of the door slowly toppled over too, and the shattering crash caused him to jump again. Then a disembodied voice spoke, from somewhere near the ruins of the second vase.
“What’s wrong doctor afraid of ghosts?”
The word’s triggered a flashing thought in his mind that quickly receded, and Rayburn desperately attempted to pull it back. In an attempt to stall the mad woman he spoke out, “Of course I’m afraid of Ghosts, I gave them life…”
“You gave us life?! Ghost’s aren’t alive, their spirits, the dead. You killed us, all of us with your program. Everything that was alive was burned away to make us more efficient killers.”
As she ranted the idea fully fledged in Rayburn’s mind and he desperately looked to giant window in the room, and the singular lamp beside it. Then he softly began edging towards the curtain speaking still. “I didn’t mean for you to become monsters, I just wanted to help you understand your gift!”
Gift? It was a gift till you got your hands on us, and turned it into a curse. They used it against us as much as they used our fears, to break us and reshape us into your damn killing machines.”
Finally Rayburn felt the cold metal of the lamp stand on his left hand, and his right settled on the giant curtain. It was only then that he realized that she had stopped ranting, and there was only silence. Again he froze in panic, cursing himself for losing track of her and failing to keep here distracted. Then he felt a small circular tube press against the base of his skull, as a voice whispered in his ear, “Boo!”
Acting more on reflex than anything he swung backwards with his cane still in his right hand, and felt it come in contact with his invisible assailant. The gun slipped from the base of his neck and he heard a harsh curse from Jessica, who responded by shoving him harshly as she fell. Clutching the lamp in his left hand tightly, and flailing with his right to grab the curtain, Rayburn fell. Sparks flew as the lamp smashed into the floor, and a loud whisk of the curtain sounded as he pulled it closed with the momentum of his fall. The room plunged into total darkness.
And in that darkness a change came over Jessica’s voice. The rage and confidence faded, and panic began to creep in as she spoke, “Doctor Rayburn? Where are you?” He heard her crouched form backing up in the total darkness, and felt her terror, but he stayed silent, thinking of nothing. Outside the rain boomed ominously, and a loud crashed of thunder sounded. Jessica gave a shriek in terror, firing her gun randomly, while screaming loudly, “Get away! Go away, I’m not afraid of you anymore!”
The terror gripped her completely now and he heard the click of her gun as it at last emptied it’s final shell. Her words turned into a scream and then faded into a painful, keening sobbing. Edging himself slowly toward that sound, he pulled the curtain slightly in his one hand, opening it just the tiniest bit. At first he couldn’t tell until a bolt of lightning flared outside and lit up the room in it’s eerie light. It was then that he saw her, curled up onto a tiny ball and rocking back and forth against the wall, her head buried in her knees crying. With pain firing up his right leg from the agony of the fall, he crawled over to where the bright afterimages of the huddled form still burned on his retina from the lightning illumination. At last his questing hand felt the leather of her shoe, and he sat himself up, and pulled her into his arms. As he did so he patted her head, and rocked her against his side as he spoke, “It’s okay, Jessica, I’m here the monsters are gone now.”
With a keening wail of misery, the woman uncurled and fell into his arms weeping. In the distance he heard the sound of the sirens, signaling the approach of the Confederate Security Forces. In response to that siren he delicately he pulled the gun from her fingers, wiping gun on the cloth of his shirt to carefully clean away any fingerprints that might be on it’s side. Holding the barrel in the fold’s of his coat flung it to the opposite side of the room. Then he reached out with both hands to enfold the woman, as another lightning bolt flashed outside. The bolt lit up her face, twisted in fear and pain, with twin streams of wetness down her cheeks almost glowing as they reflected the light from the bolt. Bitterly Rayburn stared face to face with the visage of the nightmare that had been borne of his most precious dream. And as the darkness again descended after the bolt, he rocked the girl in his arms projecting with his mind and heart what comfort he could and said, “It’s okay now Jessica, I’m here, I’ll make the ghosts go away.”
