Ghost of a Smile

THREE

They went up the stairs to the next floor because none of them trusted the elevator. They didn’t particularly trust the stairs, either, but as Happy pointed out, at least stairs don’t get you half-way there and then plummet to the basement. Or turn into something nasty and swallow you up. Happy had a lot of other reasons why he didn’t trust elevators in general and this one in particular, but the others were already half-way up the stairs and not listening to him. JC went bounding up the stairs two at a time, with all his usual energy and enthusiasm, Kim floating along beside him. Melody followed behind, still grumbling under her breath over what had happened to her precious equipment. Happy sighed deeply and brought up the rear, very reluctantly.

The stairs were only stairs, with no graces or comforts. The walls were bare, the single railing was as basic as health and safety regulations would allow, and the light was sharp and bright, with no shadows anywhere. Even so, there was still something distinctly uneasy about the narrow stairway, something… not quite right.

“I know we’re going up,” said Happy, after a while. “But I swear it feels like we’re going down…”

“Steady in the ranks,” said JC. “Don’t let the place get to you. All right, this building has proved to be entirely spooky and mysterious, in a malevolent sort of way, full of uncanny things that we haven’t encountered before, but is that any reason to be downhearted?”

“Well, yes!” said Happy.

“It makes the job that much more interesting,” JC said firmly. “You’re never too old to learn something new. And make a serious profit from it.”

He slammed through the swinging doors at the next floor and led his team into a brightly lit corridor. He stopped abruptly to take a good look. Melody nearly ran into him. A seriously long corridor stretched away before them, barely wide enough for two people to walk down abreast. To JC’s left, a series of rooms lined the corridor. All the doors were standing open. To his right was a blank wall, painted industrial off-white. With all the doors open, there was only room to walk down the corridor single file. No windows, no signs or instructions on the wall or the doors, and no signs of violence or destruction anywhere. Like the lobby, it was all very still and very quiet, with a subtle tension in the air. JC moved over to the first open door and studied it carefully.

“All right,” he said. “First interesting thing. This door has a very heavy, very solid steel lock. No electronics. Far more security than you’d need for what is, after all, a basic hotel room. Especially when beefed up by this very solid steel bolt, on the outside of the door. Suggesting that once the subjects were bedded in for the night, they were intended to stay put until someone came and let them out in the morning. Now why would the researchers feel the need to do that? To stop their subjects from wandering? Or because said subjects might become dangerous once they’d been dosed? Or even… because they might panic when the first symptoms or changes occurred and try to run?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Melody. “The best security measure, with drug trials or anything else, is to control the supply of information. The people in the trial might have been locked in to make sure they didn’t see anything they weren’t supposed to. Never put down to supernatural nastiness what you can as easily put down to the fear of industrial espionage.”

“A lock and a bolt,” said Happy. “The researchers weren’t taking any chances, were they?”

JC strode off down the corridor, leaving the others to catch up with him. He was doing his best to seem cool and calm and utterly at his ease, but he looked very thoroughly into every room he passed, taking it all in. The rooms were comfortable enough, if somewhat small, with all the usual luxuries. Television, computer…

Melody waited till they reached the third room, then she couldn’t stand it any longer. She darted inside and sat down at the computer. The others stopped and came back, watching from the doorway as Melody turned on the computer and logged on.

JC sighed quietly.“So much for being in charge…”

“You need information,” said Melody, not looking up from the many illegal things she was doing. “This is where I find information.”

“Indeed,” murmured JC. “I’m amazed you were able to hold yourself back this long. So, what is the computer telling you, in what I’ve decided to call Room Three? Because there are no numbers or other designations on any of the doors. Did any of the rest of you notice that? I always notice things like that. Happy, Melody doesn’t seem to be talking to me. What about you? Do you have anything to tell me? Are you picking up anything?”

“Not really,” said Happy, looking vaguely up and down the empty corridor. “No-one lived here long enough to make much of an impression. I can say there’s definitely no-one alive hiding anywhere on this floor. All the rooms are empty. Still, it’s odd… normally when I lower my shields and look around, you three all start shouting at me with your minds, and I have to fade you down before I can hear anything else. But here… I’m only sensing you dimly, as though from a great distance. Somewhere in this building, something is interfering with my reception.”

“Are you saying someone is jamming you?” said JC.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” said Happy. “Can’t say I’m that bothered. It’s actually quite relaxing, not having to keep all your voices out of my head for a change.”

“Can you pick up any traces of the person who used to live in this room?” said JC.

Happy glared at him. “I keep telling you, I’m not that kind of psychic! I read people, and places, and that’s it! I do not read objects, channel past events, or read tea leaves! I am a telepath, and that’s more than enough to deal with. I am not a miracle-worker!”

“Pity,” said JC. “I could use a miracle-worker. I’m going to take a stroll further down the corridor, see what there is to see. Yell if you need anything, Melody.”

And he was off and gone, with Kim drifting after him. Happy slouched sullenly in the doorway.

“We shouldn’t be working this case,” he said flatly. “We’re supposed to deal with ghosties and ghoulies and things that go Boo! in the night. Whatever happened here has heavy science written all over it. We’re already out of our depth, even if JC won’t admit it, and way out of our comfort zone.”

“You speak for yourself,” said Melody, scowling thoughtfully at the monitor before her.

“I am!” said Happy. “Loudly and meaningfully, but no-one is listening! We shouldn’t be here! This isn’t what we do…”

Melody sighed loudly and turned round in her chair to look at him. “Those were ghosts, down in the lobby, weren’t they?”

“Well, yes, of a sort, but…”

“But nothing. You heard what the annoying man from the stretch limo said-find out what’s going on, and stop it. That’s the job. Everything else is just details.” She stopped and smiled at him almost fondly. “I know you don’t like to admit it, Happy, but it’s all science, all of the time. Ghosts, demons, the afterworlds-all of existence and everything beyond-it’s all science. We don’t always understand it yet, that’s all. Now hush like a good bunny and let me get on with my work, or I’ll start throwing words like quantum around, and you know how you hate that.”

Happy shuddered briefly in the doorway and shut up, and Melody went back to work.

Further down the corridor, JC was looking around what he had loudly declared he was naming Room Fourteen, picking things up, examining them, and putting them down again, trying to get a feel for the last person who’d lived there. Given the number of well-thumbed magazines, like Heat and OK, he was pretty sure the occupant had been female, but he didn’t say that out loud because he knew Kim would accuse him of being judgemental. There were no personal touches, no photos, no jewellery, not even any clothes. Were the test subjects supposed to go around all the time in those awful hospital gowns that only do up at the back? JC stood in the middle of the room, looking thoughtfully about him, but the room defeated him. It was deliberately bare and characterless, more like a waiting room than living quarters.

Kim threw herself onto the bed by the far wall to watch JC work, misjudged the distance, and fell half-way through the bed before she could stop herself. She quickly floated back up out of it, before JC could notice, and with precisely the right amount of concentration managed to float directly above the bed-sheets, so it looked like she was lying there. Kim wasn’t alive, but she liked to pretend she could still do everyday things, as though she were an ordinary girl. For JC’s sake, as well as her own.

“Anything?” she said brightly, when she was sure she could present the right image.

“Nothing useful,” said JC. “No trace of any upset or disturbance here. No signs of interrupted activity. Just like all the other rooms. It’s as though… everyone got up and left. Except, they couldn’t. Because all the doors were locked and bolted shut from the outside. So someone must have come and let them all out, and given them good reason to leave… Even though they must have been strictly instructed not to. Which implies they knew who the person who let them out was… someone in a position of authority.”

“Like the Marie Celeste,” said Kim, to show she was keeping up. “The old ship found floating out at sea with everyone missing and nothing to show where they had gone.”

“Yes,” said JC, smiling. “Something like that.” He looked over at Kim, and stopped smiling. “Kim, you’re sinking again.”

Her concentration had lapsed while they were talking, and she’d almost disappeared under the bed. She swore briefly and jumped up. She dropped to the floor and concentrated until her feet were as close to the carpet as she could manage without sinking through, then she walked carefully forward to stand before JC. She looked at him, almost defiantly.

“It’s not easy, you know, being dead. In fact, it’s really hard work. All those little things you take for granted, I have to fight for. I don’t sleep, eat, or rest. I can’t stand still, or sit, or lie down. Mostly, I just hover. There are strange aetheric winds that blow me this way and that, and odd impulses I don’t understand… You don’t know what it’s like! I do try to be normal for you…”

“I know,” said JC. “I know.” He smiled at her, careful not to appear upset in any way. There wasn’t anything useful he could say, so he settled for trying to lighten the moment. “Aren’t I worth it?”

“You’re the only thing that makes this bearable, JC,” said Kim, with painful earnestness. “If I didn’t have you, I think… I’d just let go.”

JC stood as close before her as he could, taking off his sunglasses so he could hold her eyes with his. She was the only one who could meet his unnatural gaze these days. “You know I’d never keep you here against your will. You do know that, right? If you ever feel it would be… easier for you to move on…”

“No,” Kim said immediately. “We found each other. After spending our lives alone, and thinking it would always be that way… Out of a whole world full of people, we found each other. How remarkable is that? I wish it could have happened while I was still alive. That I didn’t have to die to find love.”

“Me, too,” said JC. He put his arms around her, very carefully, not quite touching her. It was difficult because he couldn’t feel her, but he did his best. She put her arms around his waist, without quite touching him, and leaned her head almost on his shoulder, so their faces could be side by side. Hardly any space separated them, but it might as well have been forever. Their mouths were close, but they couldn’t even feel each other breathe. Because only JC was breathing. It was tense, and it was awkward, but it was the best they could do, so they stood that way for a while.

“Are you sure you can’t feel anything?” said Kim.

“Not even a ghostly chill,” said JC.

“Sooner or later,” said Kim, “you’re going to want someone who can touch you. A lover who can hold and comfort you.”

“I want you,” said JC. “You’re all I ever wanted, even when I didn’t know you existed. I love you, Kim.”

“And I love you,” said Kim. “Oh JC, it’s a cruel world, sometimes.”

“Hey,” said JC. “If it was a cruel world, we never would have found each other.”

“Yes,” said Kim. “There is that.”

“Isn’t there any upside to being a ghost?” said JC. “I mean, there are things you can do that I can’t.”

“Well,” said Kim, “sometimes, when you’re sleeping, and it’s a long time till morning… I go flying over London. I let go of gravity and fall upwards, into the night sky, and I go soaring over the rooftops. See the bright lights turn below me like a slow Catherine wheel, see the traffic roaring back and forth like so many toys. And sometimes I fly up among the stars and look down at the Earth, like the most precious and most fragile toy of all.”

“You see?” said JC. “I can’t do that.”

Back in Room Three, Melody had finally found something useful. Happy moved forward so he could peer over her shoulder and watched very secret files appear and disappear on the screen in response to Melody’s fingers flitting over the keyboard. It was all very scientific.

“All right,” said Happy, after a while. “You’ve got that smug and triumphant look on your face, so what am I missing? What have you found?”

“LD50,” said Melody, sitting back in her chair so suddenly she almost head-butted Happy in the face. She folded her arms and scowled at the screen. “And I don’t feel smug, or triumphant. This is not a good thing to have found. LD50 is the dosage at which the new drug is expected to kill half of the test group. Lethal Dose, Fifty per cent. Not something you should be finding in a drug being tested on volunteers. But this LD50 file is quite definitely attached to the Zarathustra project. It seems to be posing the question of what happens if the affected subjects can’t or won’t die? If they insisted on surviving, what should be a Lethal Dose?”

“Are you saying… the scientists deliberately gave these people a drug so strong they expected it to kill half the volunteers?” said Happy. “How the hell did they think they would get away with that?”

“You’re not listening,” said Melody. “Yes, under normal circumstances, half the recipients should have died. But what the scientists really expected was that this new drug would keep them alive. By changing them so much they could survive something that would quite definitely kill normal people. LD50 was the final test, the proof that they’d achieved what they thought they’d achieved. I think… whoever was in charge of this project wasn’t too tightly wrapped. They were playing with people’s lives!”

“Okay, I’m thinking illegal, and unethical and Mad Doctors on the loose,” said Happy. “Did the company, did MSI, know they were doing this?”

“Looks like it,” said Melody. “The orders and authority for this last test came straight from the top. But I would have to say, given the results these people were getting, and the scientists’ reactions to what they were seeing… I would have to say they were all most definitely scared shitless. The changes went a lot further, and at a much faster pace, than anyone anticipated.”

“Did it kill them all, in the end?” said Happy. “Is that what happened to the test volunteers? The scientists panicked, and had to dispose of the bodies?”

“Unfortunately, no,” said Melody. “The test subjects survived. And changed. There’s nothing here on what they became, but it couldn’t have been anything good.”

“Is there anything there on which patients had the placebos?” said Happy. “I mean, they wouldn’t have gone through any changes. Could they still be here, somewhere?”

“There were no placebos,” said Melody. “They didn’t care about rigorous scientific procedures, they wanted as many affected test subjects as possible.”

“But that’s…”

“Unethical? Illegal? No-one here gave a damn about any of that, Happy. They thought the company was big enough, and powerful enough, that they didn’t have to care about things like that. Which meant this was never a legal test of a legal drug, for legal purposes. MSI was after bigger fish.”

“Superhumans,” said Happy. “For the Military, or Intelligence, or maybe for themselves.”

“Might help to explain why there was such a fight over jurisdiction once it all went wrong,” said Melody. “But it doesn’t explain why MSI asked for us, specifically, to come in and clean up their mess. They must have known we’d find out the truth…”

“Maybe they thought only people with our unique experience would be able to cope with whatever these test subjects have become,” said Happy. He looked quickly about him. “And I wish I had their confidence.”

They all met up again, half-way down the corridor, to share what they’d discovered. There followed a certain amount of raised voices as they tried to figure out what to do next.

“We are not equipped to deal with genetically modified madmen!” said Happy.

“Who is?” said JC. “But we are uniquely suited to dealing with things and situations that fall outside normal parameters.”

“MSI lied,” said Melody. “They must have had some reason for dropping us right into this mess, and I’m pretty sure it’s not a reason any of us would like or approve of. More and more I’m feeling like chum thrown into the water to attract the sharks. We don’t owe MSI anything.”

“We’re not here for them,” said JC. “Patterson sent us in here on behalf of the Carnacki Institute. That means it’s our ball.”

“Patterson didn’t know what was going on in here,” said Happy. “I think we should go back out and talk to him, and the Boss, and see what they have to say.”

“What makes you think we’d be allowed to leave the building?” said JC. A sudden quiet fell over the group as they all thought about that. JC looked around, making sure they’d got the implications. “We’re not alone in here. The shells in the lobby were being directed by someone else. I think it’s in our best interests to find out who-or what-and do something about them, before they figure out a way to do something about us.”

“We can’t cope with something this big on our own!” said Melody. “We need reinforcements! And my equipment!”

“And weapons,” said Happy. “Really big, illegally modified weapons.”

“We can’t wait,” said JC. “We’re moving through unknown territory, and the clock is ticking.”

“Clock?” said Happy. “What clock? No-one said anything about a clock!”

“There’s always a deadline, in cases like this,” JC said easily. “We need to understand what we’re dealing with, before it comes looking for us. Those ghost shells worry me. They don’t seem to have anything to do with the drug trials at all.”

“Ghosts are usually some kind of reminder,” said Kim. “Something from the Past, imprinting itself on the Present. Pushing reality aside to make themselves seen and heard. Either as a recording, or as a manifestation. Those shells… were all that remained of people. But with the personality removed, what reason did they have to remain? Why are they still here? Sorry, I’m thinking aloud…”

“You carry on,” said JC. “You’re making more sense than the rest of us.”

“Somebody is keeping the shells here,” said Kim, nodding thoughtfully to herself. “The men were killed to be made into ghost shells, so they could be… supernatural attack dogs?” She scowled prettily. Her form had become dimmer, almost transparent, as her concentration moved from manifestation to hard thinking. Her feet dipped in and out of the floor as she drifted slowly up and down. “Ghosts continue to exist, to serve some purpose. To pass on a message, to deal with unfinished business like revenge or unrequited love. All rational and emotional needs… but those shells were empty of anything like that. They’d been hollowed out, so someone else could use them. Which means someone-or thing-still in this building has power over life and death.”

“Okay, you’re scaring me now,” said Happy. “Weaponised ghosts? And a hidden evil mastermind behind it all? I hate those.”

“But where could it be hiding?” said Melody. “This building is supposed to be empty.”

“I think… I don’t believe anything we’ve been told about Chimera House,” said JC. “I think someone is still here, someone-and I do believe it’s a person, not the sort of Thing we sometimes deal with-with their own agenda, and their own purpose for these unethical and highly illegal drug trials. So we are going to find them, dispense vicious beatings on general principles, and then drag them out of here and find some proper legal authority to hand them over to.”

“But, but, that isn’t the mission!” insisted Happy. “We were sent in here to gather information, not bring evil masterminds to justice.”

“Come on, Happy,” JC said cheerfully. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I had it surgically removed,” Happy said coldly. “It was endangering my life.”

“It’s true,” said Melody. “He did. I’ve got it in ajar at home, on the mantelpiece.”

“Our mission,” said JC, in that calm and entirely reasonable tone he knew drove his companions absolutely batshit, “is to put a stop to what’s happening here. That hasn’t changed. Who’s running this team, Happy?”

“You are,” muttered Happy.

“And why is that?” said JC.

“Because no-one else wants to!” said Melody. “All right, we get it!”

“Good,” said JC. “So stop arguing, suck it in, and soldier on, and I’ll give you a nice sweetie to take away the nasty taste.”

“I don’t take sweeties from strangers,” said Happy. “And God knows, no-one’s stranger than you these days, JC.”

“I am going to change the subject,” said Melody. “Because it’s either that or start hollering and hitting people, and I can always do that later. Probably while shouting I told you so! Have any of you noticed there aren’t any security cameras? Not here in the corridor, or in any of the rooms, not even down in the entrance lobby. Rather unusual, wouldn’t you say, for a company with so many important and highly illegal secrets to protect? Given that they were ready to lock in their test subjects for the night, you’d think they’d at least want to keep an eye on everyone…”

“Not if you don’t want any official record of what you’re doing,” said JC. “Melody, my dear, I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh, that’s always dangerous,” said Happy.

“I was wondering if there was anything you could try that doesn’t require any of your amazing but unfortunately not-at-all-here equipment?”

“Well,” said Melody, reluctantly. “There is something I’ve been considering… Electronic Voice Phenomena. I might be able to put something together using my mobile phone and the room computer. Give me a minute.”

She darted back into Room Three, and the others filled the doorway, looking in, because Melody didn’t like to be crowded when she was working, and was quite capable of making that clear with a sudden back elbow or some other violent hint. She pulled the computer apart with brutal thoroughness, rooted through its guts and then linked some of them to her mobile phone. JC leaned in beside Happy, and spoke quietly in his ear.

“Do you have any idea of what she’s doing?”

“Not a clue,” said Happy.

“I can hear you!” said Melody, not looking up from what she was doing. “It’s really quite simple…”

“Oh God, don’t let her explain!” said Happy. “Any time she tries to explain something scientific to me I end up with hysterical deafness for a week! In self-defence!”

“I am surrounded by Luddites,” said Melody, working happily away. “Noisy ones, too.”

“What are Luddites?” said Kim. “They sound sort of cuddly.”

“Am I the only one who paid attention at school?” said Melody.

“Probably,” said JC. “You swot, you. You could geek for the Olympics.”

“And pardon me for being dead!” said Kim. “A girl can’t study everything. I did extra drama classes. And flower arranging.”

“Colour me surprised,” said Happy.

Melody put her phone to her ear, and listened intently.

“Can you hear the sea?” Happy said helpfully.

“You slap him, JC,” said Melody. “I’m busy. Wait… I’m getting

… something. I can hear voices…”

“What’s odd about that?” said Kim. “It’s a phone.”

“But I haven’t dialled any number,” said Melody. “I am very definitely hearing voices, but… too far away to make out. Voices, in the system. Are they always there, perhaps, hidden behind our everyday calls? Drowned out by millions of common calls and conversations?”

She fiddled with the exposed parts of the computer, and what she was hearing burst suddenly from the speakers. A sound like a never-ending wind, strange background noises like the singing of insane whales, the frantic pattering of a million angry insects. And then, slowly, human voices began to come forward, rising above the background gabble. Human voices, but far and far away, as though they’d had to cross some unimaginable distance to reach the world. It wasn’t even clear what languages they were using.

“I just had an unnerving thought,” said Happy. “Could we be hearing the collective unconscious? I’ve always wanted to listen in to that.”

“You are entirely right, Happy, that is an unnerving thought,” said JC. “If you have any more, feel perfectly free to keep them to yourself. And anyway, I don’t believe in the human unconscious.”

“Tough,” said Happy. “It believes in you.”

“Keep the noise down,” Melody said sharply. “I’m listening… EVP is a new and barely understood branch of physics. Or psychics. Either way, there’s a lot of theories but hardly any hard evidence you can trust… and then there are moments like this when it rears up and bites you on the nose, and spooks the hell out of you. You are all hearing this, right? A sea of voices, coming and going, on a dead channel. Maybe it’s the voices of everyone who ever spoke on the phone network, somehow recorded and preserved, only slowly fading away.. .”

“Or it could be the dead,” said Kim. Everyone looked at her, and she smiled sweetly. “Dead voices, on a dead channel. Still trying to reach out to the living, to make contact. I used to know this guy who was really into Electronic Voice Phenomena. He said it was the last great frontier of the unknown. He let me listen to some of the recordings he’d made, but I couldn’t hear what he did. It was only noise… the audible equivalent of a Rorschach ink blot. The only shape and meaning is what we provide ourselves.” She looked down her ghostly nose at Melody. “I may not have a dozen science degrees, but I do know a thing or two.”

“There’s far more to EVP than simple pattern recognition,” said Melody, a bit defensively. “Too many people have heard the same sort of thing… Voices where there couldn’t be voices… The dead trying desperately to make contact with the living, to warn them about something, something terrible and terribly important…”

“How come the dead never want to tell us anything nice?” JC said wistfully.

“All right,” said Happy. “You’re scaring me now.”

And then he broke off, as all the clashing voices and deafening background noise cut off abruptly, replaced by a single voice. Slow, dragging, every word an effort. Melody threw her mobile phone away from her, and they all listened to the speakers.

Help me… Please, somebody, help me… Room Seven. Room Seven. Room Seven.

The voice stopped, and the computer speakers fell silent. There was not even a hint of hiss. Melody looked around, but the others were already off and running, heading for Room Seven.

They hadn’t got far down the corridor when they all stumbled to a halt, because the door to Room Seven was quite clearly shut. The only closed door. JC looked quickly up and down the corridor, but there was no-one about. Melody caught up with them and glared at the closed door to Room Seven as though it was a personal insult. Happy stayed at the back, looking past everyone’s shoulder. Kim seemed puzzled.

“All the doors were open the last time we came this way,” she said firmly. “It’s not something you could miss, one shut door among so many open…”

“I walked right past that door to get to Room Fourteen,” said JC. “And I didn’t see anything. Did anyone notice anything?”

They looked at each other, but no-one was sure, one way or the other.

“Somebody has been messing with our heads,” Happy said grimly. “To make us overlook Room Seven. And so subtly, so carefully, even I didn’t realize it. He won’t get away with that again, I’m ready for him now. And now I really want to see what’s in that room. No-one craps in my head and gets away with it.”

Kim stepped forward and thrust her head right through the closed door.

“Oh bloody hell!” said Happy. “I hate it when ghost girl does that! That is so not natural. That is freaking me out big-time!”

“Then don’t look,” said JC. “Anything, Kim?”

She pulled her head out of the door and smiled at JC. “No-one seems to be home. But it really is quite messy.”

JC moved in closer and looked the door over carefully. “The lock’s been smashed. And the steel bolt’s been ripped right out of its socket. I’d say this door was burst open, from the inside, and whoever did it had to be really strong.”

“Inhumanly strong?” said Melody.

“Seems likely,” said JC.

“Suddenly, I’m not at all keen to see what’s in there,” said Happy. “You go ahead, I’ll stand here and keep watch- Take your hands off me! ”

“Well volunteered, that man,” said JC. “God loves a volunteer!”

He pulled the door open and pushed Happy forward into the room. Happy made a whole series of loud protestations, but by then he was already inside, so he shut up and tried for quiet dignity. He sniffed at the air and shook his head.

“Smells like a zoo in here… Like an animal house. Wild, musky, feral… And I can smell blood, too. Oh yes, there it is.”

By that time, they were all inside Room Seven, taking up most of the available space. The room had been trashed. The furniture and fittings had been smashed and torn apart. The carpet on the floor had been ripped and rucked up, as though trampled by wild animals. The computer had been beaten into small pieces and the pieces scattered everywhere.

“That’s not easy to do,” said Melody. “Somebody really had a grudge against this machine.”

Everyone else was looking at the long claw marks gouged deep into the far wall. Blood was splashed thickly across walls and the ceiling. It hadn’t been dried long. Great, heavy, dark red swatches of blood, and one oversized bloody handprint on the inside of the door. JC put his hand beside it, and the print was almost twice as large.

“This is where it all started,” he said finally. “The first unexpected reaction to the drug, perhaps? Did the test subject panic when the bad symptoms began? Did he cry out for help that never came and so had to smash his way out?”

“Was that his voice we heard?” said Melody. “Or was it someone who wanted us to see what someone else was hiding?”

“But look at the claw marks!” said Happy. “The size of them, and the depth of the grooves… think of the strength needed to do that much damage. And smell the animal stench in here! What did the Zarathustra drug do to the poor bastard?”

“Not the kind of superhuman change his minders were expecting, certainly,” said JC. He turned abruptly to Kim. “What do you see here? I need to know what you see because the dead often see things that are hidden from the living.”

“Of course,” said Kim, calmly. “Because the living couldn’t cope.” She looked around, slowly. “I can’t see whoever it was used to live here. It’s as though all traces have been wiped clean, scoured out by the sheer intensity of what happened. No stone tape, no psychic imprinting… the occurrence was too powerful for that… But I am feeling things. Emotions. Strong, supercharged, impossibly extreme emotions, saturating the aether.”

Melody sniffed. “She’s making it up. No such thing as aether.”

“Lot you know, girl geek,” said Kim. “Emotions… but not human emotions.”

“Animal?” said JC.

“No. More than human,” said Kim. “I can feel them, but I can’t understand them, or describe how they make me feel. It’s like listening to a thunderstorm that’s also a name that’s also a howl of rage and horror and enlightenment. Emotions so big, so complicated.. . they frighten me, JC.”

Happy was concentrating so hard his face was one big scowl, trying to get some feel, some sense of what Kim was experiencing, but it eluded him.

“I’m getting a word, JC,” he said finally. “Yes, a word. Repeated over and over. One word. ReSet.”

And then his gaze snapped past JC, caught by something behind him. Happy cried out, and pointed urgently with a quivering hand. Everyone spun round, to stare at the cracked mirror on the wall behind them. They all looked hard, but all they saw were their own startled reflections.

“What is it, Happy?” said JC. “What did you see?”

“There was a face!” Happy’s face was grey, wet with sudden sweat. “There was a face in the mirror, and it wasn’t one of us!”

They all looked again, but the reflection was still stubbornly only them.

“It’s gone now,” said Happy. “But it was there. A face. Watching us!”

“All right,” said JC. “I believe you. What kind of face?”

“I don’t know,” said Happy. He looked confused, like an overtired child. “It wasn’t human… not really. A face, like a human face, but… more so. It was like God looking out of the mirror, and judging us.” He shook his head. “I can remember seeing it, but I can’t remember what it looked like any more. As though my mind can’t… hold on to it.”

JC nodded slowly. For all his nervous talk, Happy was a veteran of many cases, and there wasn’t much that could genuinely shake him any more. Melody moved in close beside Happy, calming him with her presence.

“ReSet?” said JC. “You’re sure about that?”

“Oh yes,” said Happy. “I heard it. Clear as a bell.”

Then the sounds started. They all looked round sharply as they heard running feet. A great many people, all heading down the corridor, towards Room Seven. JC darted out of the room, then stopped as he saw that the corridor was empty. The sounds grew louder and more urgent, and there were voices, too, shouting and crying out, voices overlapping and drowning each other out. The sounds reached the doorway and stopped abruptly.

A new Voice filled the room, a huge, overpowering Voice, like God crying out from a mountaintop-or a cross.

Help me! Somebody, help me! What’s happening to me?

A Voice that was both more and less than human, full of over- and undertones, too subtle for the human mind to comprehend. It shuddered through flesh and bone, shaking them with a deep atavistic terror. Even Kim cried out. She might be dead, but she was still human. And the Voice wasn’t.

And then the Voice was gone, and everything was still and quiet again.

“Okay,” said JC, shakily. “That bit out in the corridor was a stone tape, extreme events imprinting themselves on the surroundings, and playing back… but the Voice… was a hell of a lot more than that. Something really bad happened in here.”

“Or started here,” said Melody. “Whatever it was, it isn’t finished yet. We need to go up to the next floor, to the science labs, and get some answers.”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” said Happy. “They might have gone looking for a supersoldier, but I think they ended up with a lot more than they bargained for.”