Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 7

Twice on their way back to the Olympus Springs, Bert and Candice had to hide in the shadows as convoys of armed and armoured vehicles crossed their path, an increasingly unsettling indication that the situation in Las Vegas was deteriorating, and Bert began to wonder whether there would be any chance for him to head back out into the night, once he had delivered Candice to safety, and search for Mariella. It looked increasingly likely that the girl from Miami would eventually stumble into the hands of an Air Force patrol - if she'd didn't pick a fight, then she would, at least, be out of danger.

That wasn't enough for Bert. Mariella had trusted herself to his care, and just because she was perhaps on the other side of the city by now, that didn't mean his responsibilities had ended. Mariella was the latest refugee to arrive at the Olympus Springs Hotel, and she had proved to be more of a handful than any of the others - or any several of them - but he could not just abandon her for that...

Duty, however, became secondary to viability, as Bert and Candice approached the Hotel, and found several Air Force vehicles parked at the lobby entrance. Men with body armour and weapons stood guard, watching the street, while a man and woman in officers' uniforms were standing just inside the glass doors, talking to one of Bert's associates, and another, younger man Bert did not recognise; a man with unruly hair and the beginnings of a beard...

"Guess we go in the back way", Bert whispered to Candice. "I hope no-one found and closed your 'escape route'."

"Shouldn't be a problem", replied the girl. "Mari showed me how to spring a fire exit..."

Bert would normally have been quick to reprimand the girl for picking up such bad, criminal habits, but for now, he wasn't going to complain. He wanted to get back inside, and hopefully overhear the conversation between the Air Force personnel and those who were representing the Hotel's temporary population, maybe even intervene if things got out of hand.

The fire exit was still wedged open, as the girls, and Bert after them, had left it. There were no alarms to worry about, such luxuries a waste of resources in a city where the police had far greater concerns than trespassers in unfinished hotels, and Bert and Candice slipped back in undetected, unannounced, but they still had to take a moment to breathe a sigh of relief, fully aware of just how lucky they had been. "Now, get to bed", Bert told Candice firmly. "All that stuff, you better hide that, in case they send people in searching..."

"But-but what about Mari?", mumbled the girl. "You're not gonna just leave her out there - she needs help! She needs us!"

"And we can't do anything about that while we're hip-deep in the Air Force", he responded. "Candice - please..."

Candice was one of the first to seek shelter in the hotel, and in that time, she had never put so much feeling into anything as she did into the next word she spoke: "Promise."

Bert took her by the shoulders. "Candice, as soon as the Air Force are gone, I'll be out there looking for Mariella. I will find her, even if I have to wake up every able-bodied man in here and bodily drag them out into the street to help me."

Candice stared down at her feet, then wriggled out of Bert's grasp. "Okay", she sighed. "Guess you better get on with it."

Bert waited until Candice was in the elevator and heading back up to her room, then he shook off the last of his anxiety, and carried on down the corridor, to the turn that led into the inner lobby area, and eventually to the main reception area itself. He kept to the shadows most of the way, moving quietly, taking advantage of every last available moment to centre himself, then he emerged into plain sight, giving the distinct impression that he had just been woken, and had hurried from his quarters to find out why military vehicles were parked outside.

"Now, what seems to be the trouble, gentlemen - and lady?", he asked.

Luke Miller, a large and imposing man, despite advancing years, who'd been a high school football coach before the "zombies" had been unleashed upon the world, had been acting as the voice of authority, and seemed quite glad that Bert was coming to take over. "These folks from Nellis are checking out the various shelters in the area", Luke explained, "and this is the last stop on their route. Seems like they had something to ask us - and you, in particular."

The highest-ranking officer, who seemed rather young to be exercising such superiority, stepped forward. “Captain Christopher Brenner, United States Air Force", he declared, then looked to the equally youthful woman next to him. "This is Lieutenant Catherine Salieri..."

"Catherine...", murmured Bert. "I think I knew a Catherine once..."

"You are... 'Bert'?", asked the Air Force captain. "You're in charge here?"

"As much as anyone can be", Bert answered.

"Are you familiar with an individual by the name of Richard Bailey?"

Bert had been trying all afternoon to get in touch with Rick, and apologise for taking up the man's time at the hospital, but there'd been no answer. Now, it seemed, there was a very good reason. "Yes", he told the captain warily. "Mister Bailey has helped us out now and again - technical matters, mostly. Is there some kind of problem with that? Stolen parts, or something...?"

Lt Salieri interrupted, in coldly clipped, matter-of-fact fashion. "Sir, Mr Bailey is dead."

"Dead?", gasped Bert. "How?"

"Mr Bailey was killed this afternoon by a small group of the beings popularly referred to as 'zombies'", the lieutenant continued. "This is entirely unprecedented, and I'll you'll understand that this is an issue of great concern, particularly when it comes just as we're putting a full military response on the street."

An awful thought came to Bert's mind. Both he and Mariella had heard shooting - they had fled from it - and Bert now realised they might have been hearing Rick's final moments. "And where did this happen?"

"At the St Clair Community Hospital", said Lt Salieri. "You are familiar with it, aren't you? You were there, with a girl - one Mariella da Silva. She left in a hurry after... assaulting a senior doctor, and you followed her. There's no point in denying it, 'Bert'; we've been speaking to Dr Calloway, and what she told us has us worried. Your visit, and what happened after you left the hospital..."

"Which was what?", Bert demanded. He had to know all the Air Force knew before he could mount a plausible defence.

"The 'zombies' seem to be very interested in the girl", replied the lieutenant. "One of them appears to have interfaced with the hospital computers, and accessed Ms da Silva's medical records. They know what we know - and that is that Mariella da Silva is officially deceased, killed in an alley in Miami some ten months ago. Can you explain why someone who very much appears to be her is now running around Las Vegas?"

Bert could only plead ignorance, and hope Luke hadn't already said too much. "The doctor - Dr Halsted - told her about that, and she panicked", he explained. "I followed, but I couldn't find her, before I had to get out of there when I heard shooting. Guess I know what that was about, now. Luke, Mariella hasn't been back, has she?"

Luke shook his head. "No, not that I know of."

A perfectly non-committal answer; just what Bert had been hoping for...

"We need to find this girl", said the lieutenant - Bert was now convinced she was from Air Force Intelligence. "These 'creatures' now appear to be interested in her, and are mobilising large numbers of their personnel. If she somehow knows something they want to know, that can be valuable to our defence effort. If she knows something they don't want us to know, then she's even more valuable."

"And how could she possibly know anything like that?", asked Bert. "She's just a girl..."

"We're not so sure", said Lt Salieri. "These creatures were once people; friends, colleagues of flesh-and-blood humans. They quite literally walked away from their lives, all at the same time. We believe Mariella da Silva is one of these beings, one which has malfunctioned somehow - the death records were some kind of botched cover-up..."

"I saw one of those things being run over", Bert interrupted. "It was a hollow vessel in the shape of a person, full of liquid. Mariella is flesh and blood, with a pulse - Dr Calloway can confirm it..."

"And a thousand doctors could swear their patients had been real people right up to the moment they showed they weren't", said Salieri. "We simply don't know enough about these... things to let any opportunity slip away. We need to find this girl, even if it's only to confirm exactly what she is..."

"I know 'what she is'", snapped Bert. "She is a person, a human being, just like you and me...!"

Before the argument could develop any further, one of the armed air-men came running up to the officers, saluted, and gave a disturbing report. "Captain - Teams Echo and India have run into trouble. Large groups of the entities are mobilising, and appear to be heading this way."

The Air Force officers suddenly, and literally, turned their backs on the mystery of Mariella da Silva, redirecting their attention to this new potential threat, and Bert had a moment to get a better idea of what had happened before his return to the hotel - and in particular, the identity of the young man who had been helping Luke Miller keep the Air Force at bay, and who now approached Bert with a cautiously-extended hand. "'BertLV'..?", he murmured.

Apparently, thought Bert, but instead of that, he answered with a question of his own, to accompany his own extended hand. "'victim1'?"

"Lee Croxley", announced the scruffy young man. "Good to know I'm not alone in this. The sooner we get away from the military, the better - we need to 'compare notes' as soon as possible."

"I'd very much like to do that", said Bert, but before they could exchange further words, Captain Brenner assumed control over everything.

"We need to get everyone in the building to the most defensible location available", he instructed Bert, Luke and Lee. "At least two hundred of these zombie-things are converging on this location, and we have additional personnel on their way. There have been no further reports of hostility from the entities so far, but if these things act aggressively towards refugees, they'll have to go through the Air Force to get to them..."

Inside, Bert shuddered. The entities hadn't treated Rick Bailey as much of an obstacle, and two hundred of them would probably treat an equivalent number of Air Force personnel as little more than a minor inconvenience - and the few dozen people sheltering in the hotel would be no inconvenience at all...

It would be a slaughter.

Bert grabbed Lee's sleeve, and dragged him to one side. "You seem to know a lot about these... whatever they are", he said. "We need some way to hold them off - anything!"

"I... I don't know...", mumbled Lee. "It's a long story..."

"...and we don't have the time for long stories", said Bert, sternly. "Tell me all you can, and quick. Lives are at stake here!"

"Don't I know it", muttered Croxley. "Two-thirds of the population of this planet are Zeta-Men, and if they're getting violent, they could wipe us all out by sunrise..."

"Zeta-Men?", murmured Bert.

"A nickname; not official", said Lee. "Again, a long story - so here's the short version..."

The sun was starting to come up, and Mariella found herself at the side of a lake, gazing helplessly into the water, the ovals of golden light, still hovering tantalisingly inside her vision, perpetually taunting her. "All right", she snarled, finally at her wits' end. "All right - y'got my attention..."

Mariella stopped trying to ignore the amber ovals, or look past them. Instead, she stared right at them - if her gaze was an arrow, she would have pierced the nearest of the glowing shapes right through its centre...

The oval leapt up to occupy the majority of her right-eye's field of vision, stretching vertically into a circle, slowly rotating, with strange, angular symbols running around the inside of the circle. "That-that's not English", she whispered, recovering from the reflexive urge to get out of the way. "Is that Japanese, Chinese, something like that? Stacey used to do somma her writin', an' it wasn't like that..."

A string of the symbols appeared across the centre of the circle - and before they vanished, Mariella swore she saw several of them change. She had seen actual letters: an "E", an "s"... and she saw them again as the symbols around the circle changed in front of her, forming words she understood. "'Sensory input'... 'external configuration'... 'internal systems simulation'... what the hell happened to me?"

Accessing on-board operations guide: product overview.

Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of your own Shadow City Products ShadowPet! If treated with proper care and given regular thorough maintenance by an authorised syngineer, your ShadowPet should enjoy a long and active functioning life as your lifelike, lifelong companion...

Mariella had never imagined anything like this. She had assumed that perhaps she had lost her memory because of some head injury, and that had required someone to give her some kind of crazy artificial eye, but as she read on, she started to see that it was more than her eye had been replaced. At first, the whole idea was terrifying - the only part of Mariella da Silva that had survived was her mind - but as she explored the options available, and there were an astonishing number of them, Mariella became quite fascinated by the whole incredible business.

Before her eyes, her fingernails changed from natural hue to polished black, then from black to vivid scarlet, and then to a pleasing shade of pale violet. "I never have to go for a manicure again - ever!", she murmured. "How cool is that?"

A proper grown-up, at peace with their body, would have been horrified by the prospect of being reduced to a set of neural patterns installed in what was essentially a robot, but for Mariella, deep philosophical debate on the nature of existence was something for teachers, and old men, and she fully intended to enjoy her new discovery...

...but first, there was something else to deal with. Mariella was tinkering with the settings for her hearing when she started hearing footsteps, moving from sidewalk and roadway onto grass, marching, closer and closer. Scanning around with vision adjusted for low light conditions, she could see them advancing through the park, colder than real people, with those pools of luminous green for eyes...

"Okay, chase me", she muttered under what she now realised was just a simulation of breath. "Once I get a better idea what I can do, you may just find me goin' all Buffy on your glowy green asses...!"

It struck Mariella in an instant, and gave a little more energy to her stride as she picked herself up, and started heading out across the park, away from the advancing "zombies". All of a sudden, she had a purpose, and it felt good.

Yafornis - six hours ago...

"Why did Mane-of-Night leave so abruptly?", the snarling voice in the dark demanded. "I had not finished with her..."

The Grand Tichandryx knew the eyes of his new, artificial body were keener than their natural equivalent, but the shadows defied their ability to penetrate darkness. Outside of the circle of light shining down upon and around him, there seemed to be nothing - as far as he could tell, the world ceased beyond that island of illumination.

"I... I don't know", he mumbled...

Something flew out of the dark at him, a flash of white that cracked like a thunder-bolt so close to his face that he could feel the air compress against his "skin". "Do not waste my time", warned the voice. "Never forget that you owe your continued existence to my good graces!"

"I shall not - I could never...!", spluttered the cornered alien. "Lady Talona, you know how deeply grateful I am!"

A portion of the darkness parted from the seemingly boundless whole, bringing with it a flowing mane of pure white hair, and scandalous garments of the same dazzling hue. "Yet you seem... unwilling to present any evidence of that gratitude", purred the half-demon Mistress of Yafornis, her single-tailed whip of white snakeskin trailing along the floor behind her. "We are still to see any benefits from our relationship, other than the information you have provided to our engineers, since your unheralded arrival. Surely it is time for some measure of payment?"

"In-indeed", mumbled the ancient creature. "I cannot say for sure why the Mystalornan left so suddenly, but it may have had something to do with what I told her..."

"I saw the security recording", interrupted Talona, her gloved hands skilfully winding her whip into more manageable coils. "She reacted to you calling out her name, you talked for a minute, then she grabbed you and pushed you up against the wall. Most unlike the Mane-of-Night I know. Explain..."

"I told her about the test subject I had created..."

Talona lunged forward, and pinned The Grand Tichandryx to his chair with a spike-heeled foot planted firmly upon his chest. "Test subject?, she snarled. "You created another...?"

"I had to know whether the technology you provided would suit my requirements!", exclaimed the alien. "There - there was a girl! One who died! I recovered her mental impression, and implanted it in a test model! The process was a success...!"

"And this 'test model' still exists?", growled Talona, applying a little more pressure to her prisoner, threatening the metal tip of her boot-heel through his chest wall.

"Yes!", The Grand Tichandryx cried out. "I used her to test my escape system, just before The Darkening destroyed my sanctuary. I sent her to her world of origin. I meant no harm or slight by it!"

"You broke the terms of our agreement", snorted Talona, releasing him. "One replacement body, using Shadowpet technology, and one only. Anything more is a breach of Yafornis's property rights - rights that have already been breached once, and which I swore would never be infringed again. You make it necessary for me to do a terrible thing..."

Talona stood up straight, and took a thumb-sized personal communicator from inside the top of one of her near-shoulder length gloves. The device came to beeping life as the half-demoness squeezed it, then she held it to her ear, and spoke. "One-Thirteen Command, this is The Mistress. I am issuing an activation order for Operative Zero-Zero-Zero. Have him ready for deployment before I arrive..."

Thinking there was little worse he could endure, The Grand Tichandryx decided to dare to speak without being bidden to do so. "What... what are you going to do?", he asked. "I... I can have the test subject retrieved for you...!"

"Your involvement with our products is at an end", snapped Talona, bringing the coils of her whip up under the alien's chin. "We will deal with this. The... product in question will be recalled. Recalled, and recycled."

Talona whirled around, and strode back into the darkness. "You brought the girl back from the dead, only for her to die once more", she called out as she headed deeper into the echoing blackness. "I trust you will be able to live with that. Remember it every day you continue to exist - exist because I choose to allow you to continue to do so..."

...the battle begins.

...to be continued...

Posted at 22:15 on 30.10.2009


~ o O o ~


Previously...
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 12 - 10.11.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 11 - 08.11.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 10 - 06.11.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 9 - 04.11.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 8 - 02.11.2009