Ghosts

SIXTEEN

Rodger had finally stopped flinching each time the beast pounded on the doors. A few minutes ago, he had pissed himself from fright. Fortunately, it hadn’t overfilled the bag in his suit.

He took a drink of water from the tube in his helmet and swished it around his mouth. The taste of beer still lingered. He wasn’t proud of his worst habit.

Another thud rattled the warehouse of cryogenic chambers, and he jerked his gun back toward the doors. The monster seemed to be growing tired now. The impacts were sporadic, and Rodger could hear the thing wheezing and snorting.

Warehouse. Yeah, that’s what he would call this place, he mused, looking out at the hundreds of capsules. Magnolia was checking the chambers around the base of the first tower.

“These are all compromised,” she said quietly. “Something got to them before they were opened.”

Rodger kept his voice low. “What an awful way to wake up.”

Magnolia drew her knife as she approached the next capsule. She waved him over, and he ran to catch up. What he saw inside made him shiver. The interior bed was shredded and covered in small flakes of charcoal.

Rodger reached inside and picked up a piece. It turned to dust between his fingers and wafted to the floor.

“Whatever happened here, happened a long time ago,” he said. “These remains are mummified.”

“Keep searching,” Magnolia said. “Maybe one of these capsules is intact. You take that tower; I’ll take this one.”

“Copy that, Mags. Want to bet on who finds the most horrible thing?” he said, trying to conceal his fear with bravado. It didn’t work.

With a shiver, he directed his beam at the crushed glass below the next silo. He really didn’t like splitting up, but Captain Jordan had given him a mission, and although Rodger wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, he wasn’t about to back down now.

He played the light on the ceiling, where a crane ran on a steel track overhead. The claws were clamped shut. He shifted the beam to the next tower. The glass surface of the chamber at the bottom was shattered, and a skirt of glass shards surrounded the base. His boots crunched over the debris as he circled and checked the tubes farther up. Each chamber was destroyed, the occupant missing. He angled his light inside to reveal a padded bed covered in brown stains. He held the beam there for a moment.

“Over here,” Magnolia said, waving at him across the room. She stood at the base of another tower, but she was looking around the corner.

Rodger jogged over to her, trying to ignore the sounds of the creature still slamming itself against the door. He hoped it would either get bored or give itself a concussion soon.

“Everything I’ve found so far has been destroyed,” Magnolia said. “But maybe if we can get those fired up, we can figure out what the hell happened here.”

She centered her light on a raised platform in the middle of the room. A dozen computer monitors circled a central station. Perhaps they could operate the giant crane from there.

They crossed the dark room, their lights dancing over the towers. Everywhere Rodger looked, he found destroyed capsules.

“You stand guard,” Magnolia said. “I’m going to see if I can get these working.”

She jumped onto the platform and pulled the chair away from the rotunda desk. After a final scan of the room, Rodger climbed the two stairs and joined her.

“How about you stand guard?” he said. I’m the engineer here, and I think I already know how this warehouse operates.” He raised his eyes to the crane on the track above them.

Magnolia shrugged and then stepped out of the way. He grabbed the back of the cracked leather chair and pulled it away from the desk. The cushion was surprisingly soft, and the computer equipment looked fairly well preserved. It was as if this room had somehow been frozen in time.

He brushed the dust off a keyboard and hit the power key. The button stuck, and the screen remained blank. For the next few minutes, he tried turning on the other computers, but none would activate.

“Well, we know there’s power,” he said, mostly to himself. “My guess is, the system is protected.

Footfalls tapped on the platform as he worked—Magnolia, pacing behind him. He pulled his minicomputer from his pocket and patched it to the ITC machine.

The screen of his device flickered on, and he typed several commands on the small keypad. He connected to the mainframe, but just as he had suspected, the system was firewall protected.

“It’s gone,” Magnolia whispered.

“What?”

He couldn’t see it, but he was pretty sure Magnolia rolled her eyes behind her visor.

“The giant glowing monster that was trying to kill us,” she said.

Rodger listened, but there was only silence. He had been so focused on starting the computers, he didn’t notice that the beast had stopped ramming the door.

“Great,” he said, glancing back down.

“How are you coming along?”

Rodger just shrugged. He didn’t like to talk when he worked, and right now he needed to focus. Nothing he was trying seemed to work. The security wall protecting access to the operations system was more complex than anything he had ever seen. Someone had really wanted to keep unauthorized people from accessing it, which, in a way, explained the broken glass capsules. Whatever had destroyed the chambers had found the easiest way around hacking the system.

“Rodge, you sure you don’t want me to try?”

“Nope.” Then he tried the last thing he could think of: finding a back door to get through the firewall. A few lines of code and a very low belch later, a white glow suddenly filled the circle of monitors. He smiled, but not because he was into the system. Magnolia looked glorious in the light, like an angel.

“You did it!” She slapped her hands together softly, then looked over her shoulder, back the way they had come, but the door was out of sight.

He set his minicomputer on the desk and scooted the chair closer to the ITC computer while Magnolia hovered behind him. She brought a gloved hand to her helmet, as if trying to chew her fingernails.

“Let’s see what we can find,” Rodger said, clicking the ITC logo.

“Welcome,” said a smooth voice behind them.

Both Rodger and Magnolia whirled around to see the ghost of a middle-aged man with dark skin, standing on the floor ten feet from the rotunda. The translucent apparition took a step forward and clasped his hands behind his back.

Not a ghost. A hologram.

Rodger stood and smiled at the odd-looking man with a neat beard and short-cropped hair.

The man smiled back at Rodger with a perfect set of teeth. He was wearing a suit and creaseless pants. Rodger had never seen anyone in such nice, new clothes.

“My name is Timothy Pepper, and I’m the manager of this facility.”

Magnolia and Rodger exchanged a look.

“I’m Magnolia,” she said, “and this is Rodger.”

“Very pleased to meet you, Magnolia and Rodger,” Timothy replied. He unclasped his hands and spread his arms out as if he was about to give praise. “You have accessed the cryogenic chambers of ITC Communal Thirteen.”

He pointed at the towers framing the rotunda on both sides. “There are one thousand and twenty capsules containing various species here, all of them slated to be opened in…” Timothy raised his wrist to check an elaborate watch and continued, “Two hundred forty years, two months, five days, twelve hours, forty-five minutes, thirteen seconds.”

Rodger nudged Magnolia. “This guy has no idea.”

Timothy cocked a bushy brow at Rodger.

“How long has it been since the system was accessed?” Magnolia asked.

The hologram checked his watch a second time. “One hundred three years, two months, fifteen days, fourteen hours, fifteen—”

“Yeah, we get it,” Magnolia said, cutting him off. “Timothy, something’s happened to your facility, and we’re trying to figure out what.”

“I’m sorry, but my system has been damaged and I have been dormant since error: time stamp not found.” The hologram flickered, and Timothy said, “Please stand by while I access my archives.”

A second later, the apparition vanished, and a loud clicking sounded overhead. Magnolia and Rodger both raised their weapons as banks of lights on the towers switched on, filling the entire room with a bright glow that forced Rodger to shield his visor with his arm.

“Something is wrong,” said a voice. “Something terrible has happened.”

Rodger’s eyes slowly adjusted to the light, and he pulled his arm down to see Timothy standing in front of the computer to his left.

“Shit, man!” Rodger said, jerking away. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“My apologies, Rodger.”

“What happened here?” Magnolia asked again. “And did any of the capsules survive?”

“Ten capsules are still functioning in loading bay nineteen,” Timothy replied. “I will retrieve unit nine hundred eighty-seven shortly.”

The claws on the crane clanked open, and the unit screeched across the rusted track. It moved around a corner, out of sight.

“So you going to tell us what happened?” Magnolia asked.

“The system was damaged in the attack one hundred and three years, two months—”

Rodger grabbed his rifle when he saw a flash of movement dart between towers. He jerked the muzzle up at a Siren skittering toward the bottom chamber of the nearest tower, but Magnolia reached out and put a hand on the barrel.

“Just a hologram, Rodge.”

The beast straddled the capsule and clawed at the lid, nails shrieking over the glass. In a fit of rage, it smashed its head into the pane again and again. Another holographic Siren joined the first, jumping onto the chamber. Together, they smashed through the glass and pried it open with their claws.

It was then that Rodger realized they were watching footage of what happened over a century ago.

The beasts pulled a bald, naked young man from the capsule and dragged him to the floor. Another flurry of Sirens rushed into the room, circling the fallen man as he reached for his head, dazed. He blinked at the encroaching beasts and scrambled away, screaming. A moment later, the creatures attacked, tearing the helpless man apart. They yanked an arm from its socket and fought over it as a geyser of blood sprayed their pale bodies crimson.

“My God. It was the Sirens,” Magnolia said. “How could this have happened?”

They were just holograms, but Rodger had a hard time watching the poor soul being ripped to pieces. Hundreds of Sirens spilled into the room and climbed the towers like ants. They broke through the capsules and dragged humans and animals away.

Timothy’s smooth voice spoke again. “Stand by.”

The grotesque scene vanished, replaced by the holograms of several humans wearing clothes like Timothy’s but in worse repair. A woman led a group of emaciated people through the room. She stopped at a tower, putting her hands on her hips and looking up. Just by her movements, she reminded Rodger of Captain Maria Ash: strong, proud, and in charge. The other people circled around her.

“I’ve been in contact with the governors of all the other communal shelters, including those in other countries, and we have agreed to awaken 5 percent of the human population and 20 percent of the animal population. With resources so low, we will use the extra manpower to keep the Hilltop Bastion running. The animals will become part of our livestock. We will slaughter several right away and breed the rest.”

“Governor, I would strongly advise against that,” said another voice. It sounded just like Timothy. He turned toward the rotunda, and Rodger saw that it was indeed a younger version of the hologram, but without the beard.

“That must be Governor Rhonda Meredith,” Magnolia said. “Timothy, when was this? And just give me the years, please.”

“Two hundred two years ago,” came the reply over the speakers.

The holograms continued talking, and Rodger jumped down off the platform and joined Magnolia to listen.

“I understand your concerns, but we have no choice,” Meredith said. “Unless anyone else can give me a good reason not to do this, I want it done. Now.”

Yup, she definitely reminded him of Captain Ash.

The younger version of Timothy clasped his hands behind his back and said, “There could be severe consequences for waking them up nearly four hundred years early.”

“Noted,” Meredith said. She nodded at the man holding the tablet, and he nodded back.

The holograms vanished, replaced by a scene in some sort of command room. Governor Meredith was sitting at a table with civilians and soldiers. Timothy was there again, seated directly across from the governor.

“We can’t control them,” Meredith said. “Something is wrong. They aren’t normal. They’re killing people for scraps of food.”

“Basic predatory instinct,” Timothy said. “The scientists who designed the chambers and created this place are all dead now, but I understood enough from their notes to tell you that these hybrids are not like you and me. They underwent genetic modifications to help them survive in hostile conditions.”

“They are monsters,” Meredith began to say.

“They weren’t supposed to be woken for five hundred years,” Timothy said. “You’ve opened Pandora’s box.”

“We all have,” Meredith said coldly. “The other governors are all reporting the same problems. We just lost contact with the communal in Hades.”

Magnolia’s eyes widened behind her visor as she looked at Rodger. “Hades,” she said. “That’s where…”

“I had my suspicions that they would be different,” Timothy continued, “but not like this. I’m sorry, but there’s only one thing to do: a complete cleanse.”

The holograms faded away and were quickly replaced by a scene inside a stairwell. A makeshift barricade of chairs and desks blocked the passage. Soldiers fired their weapons as they escorted Governor Meredith down the stairs. It was obvious to Rodger that the cleanse had failed, but watching it unfold was still horrifying, especially knowing he had just walked down the same stairwell.

The governor held a radio to her lips. “We’re low on food and ammunition. We can’t keep them back much longer. Please, please send support to the following coordinates…”

The scene vanished, and Timothy’s hologram reappeared. “That was an abridged version of what occurred here. As I stated, my system was damaged, but I was able to access these memories.”

“Mags, do you remember that message from Governor Meredith we heard on the Hive? They were trying to keep the things they unleashed from killing everyone.”

Magnolia took a step backward and motioned for Rodger to join her.

“What are you?” she said to the hologram.

Timothy tilted his head quizzically. “I am Timothy Pepper, the manager of this facility.”

“No, you’re a computer hologram wearing someone else’s face. Who was Timothy Pepper?”

“Was he one of them?” Rodger asked. “One of the survivors of the war?”

The AI nodded. “Timothy Pepper was the last survivor. I took his form after he was killed by the hybrid humans. I watched as they left the Hilltop Bastion and returned to the surface, where they evolved into the creatures you call ‘Sirens.’ ”

“No way,” Magnolia said. “I don’t believe it.”

“His hope was that someday he would meet another survivor,” Timothy said. “Now it appears I have—two of them, in fact.”

He smiled, but Rodger didn’t feel like smiling back. He felt sick to his stomach. Why had Captain Jordan ordered him to come here?

Then something clicked in his mind.

“That son of a bitch,” Rodger whispered, turning to Magnolia. “He sent us down here to prove we can’t ever return to the surface.”

“What? Who?”

“Captain Jordan. He ordered us to risk our lives just to prove a point.”

Magnolia scowled. “I told you someone was trying to murder me. I guess now we know who.”

“I’m going to kill him myself,” Rodger said.

A metallic cracking and squealing sounded above, and both divers raised their weapons at the crane moving down the tracks. In its grips, it carried a chamber, which it slowly lowered. Magnolia hurried over as the claws gently set it down on the floor.

“I warn you, this will not—” Timothy began to say, when a cry of shock cut him off. Magnolia stepped back, bumping into Rodger as he approached.

Rodger moved around her to get a look at the capsule. Inside was the shriveled form of what had once been a person. The leathery skin over its bony chest moved slowly up and down.

“It’s still alive,” Magnolia said. “What the hell is it?”

Timothy approached and glanced down, blinking as if he didn’t recognize it at first. “Artificial evolution. The system—most of it, I should say—is connected to surface sensors that monitor radiation, temperature, and so on. They didn’t start like this, but over the years, almost every hybrid developed mutations. Many of the animals underwent the same changes.”

“I don’t buy it,” Rodger said. “Evolution—artificial or any other kind—takes a lot of generations just to make one tiny change in the genome. So maybe fifteen human generations since those shit-for-brains at ITC started playing God—or playing Darwin, I should say.”

“So it would seem,” said Timothy, “if evolution did indeed occur at an even pace.”

Magnolia gave the hologram a streetwise glare. “What’s he talking about, Rodge?”

“If I may,” Timothy continued. Apparently noting his audience’s impatience, he added, “I’ll stick to just the main points, I promise.”

The two divers exchanged a look, and Rodger gave a grudging nod. “Enlighten us, then. You’ve got five minutes.”

The hologram cleared its throat and spoke in a more professorial tone: “Way back in the late twentieth century, a theory known as punctuated equilibrium was proposed, to account for unexplained gaps in the fossil record. The radical new theory suggested that the plodding pace of evolution is occasionally ‘punctuated’ by rapid flurries of change, giving rise to new species in only an eyeblink of geological time. Hence the absence of fossils to account for their development.

“Hold up there,” Magnolia drawled. “How ’bout a translation for those of us who speak English?”

“Bear with me, please,” Timothy said. “It will all make sense very soon. The theory was controversial, to say the least, and after a while, even the founders lost faith in it.”

“That’s all fascinating, I’m sure,” Rodger said, nodding toward the ghastly creature in the capsule. So how does that get us from humans to that monstrosity in just a couple of centuries?”

The Timothy hologram gave a tolerant smile. “Well, it turns out that those daring scientists were barking up the right tree after all: punctuated equilibrium does indeed happen—they just never found its triggering mechanism. But ITC’s scientists did find it—in some humble marine invertebrates known as bryozoans, which underwent a burst of evolutionary change back during the age of the dinosaurs, thus proving out the theory.”

“I hate to break up this thrilling lecture,” Rodger said with a theatrical sigh, “but we’ve got a mission to complete.”

“Sh-h-h-h!” Magnolia hissed. “This could be important.” She turned to the hologram. “Please don’t mind him. You were saying?”

Timothy picked up without missing a beat. “So ITC studied the bryozoans’ genome and found the genetic switch in their DNA that made this rapid evolutionary burst possible. Then they went way outside the box, using one of the millions of rapidly evolving viruses in a single cupful of polluted seawater.”

This is where it gets interesting,” Timothy said. “By splicing a specific strand of the viral RNA with the particular bryozoan DNA sequence, ITC’s scientists gave their modified humans the capacity to evolve rapidly—that is, mutate—to adapt to a hostile environment. But to the geneticists’ astonishment, the spliced-in bryozoan DNA and viral genetic material did something they could never have expected: it allowed the modified humans and domesticated animals to mutate within a single lifetime. Until then, mutations occurred only through sexual reproduction. But all of a sudden, genetic change that should take thousands of generations could occur within a single living creature as it slept in cryo-suspension.”

“The scientists were playing god,” Rodger said, thunderstruck.

“Indeed,” Timothy said. “Their genetically modified organisms—people as well as hogs, chickens, and other useful vertebrates—could respond immediately to environmental changes by evolving and mutating within their cryo capsules. Of course, the ITC scientists hedged their bets by leaving a small control group of human and canine capsules largely isolated from the sensors relaying the atmospheric data.”

“Yeah,” Magnolia said. “What could possibly go wrong?”

She raised her rifle at the glass and had flicked the safety off when a frantic voice came over the comm.

“Magnolia, Rodger!” Gasp. “Do you copy?”

It was Weaver, and he sounded as though he was having a hard time breathing.

“Copy that, Weaver,” Rodger said. “Where are you?”

“I’m trying to get to the command room at the top of the facility.” Static crackled over the channel as Weaver struggled to get enough air. “Pipe’s gone. I’ve got to find a radio to send an SOS to the Hive. Meet me at the command room.”

Magnolia looked at Timothy. “How do we get out of this place? We can’t go out the front door.”

He pointed to the top of the towers. “The Sirens accessed this room through the utility tunnels.”

Rodger thanked him with a nod as they turned to climb the towers. Timothy was just an AI, but his personality was that of a man, a real survivor from the Old World. Something about leaving him behind, all alone, felt wrong.