A King and a Monster, page 18
“This is where our clients are evaluated and given information for treatment,” Angela explained as they followed the woman in the white gown to circular chamber at the end of the hall.
Three steel doors ringed the room, each with a number on the door. The woman selected a door, disappearing down another tiled hall.
“Currently, we offer medium services to communicate with deceased loved ones, healing services for a variety of physical ailments, and memory work, which is our most popular service,” Angela said, her voice soft and calm. “People love to remember and love to forget. There are many who overindulge in these procedures. We are still experimenting on the side effects.”
“That explains all the smiley catatonic folks,” Rin said, frowning at the doors. “But somehow, those are the ones who’ve been given Yellow status for evacuation?”
“Oh, yes, they are more valuable than anyone else in the city. For research purposes,” Angela replied.
Kazuki scoffed. “Of course. Can’t lose your precious test subjects.”
Angela either didn’t hear his comment or chose not to hear it.
“Are the services expensive?” Alan asked.
“We strive to be accessible to all through payment plans,” Angela recited, as though reading from a brochure.
“I see,” Alan said, clutching Kazuki’s hand tightly.
He glanced back down the hall the way they’d come. Running away was still a choice. Alan wanted nothing more than sprint out through the doors of this place and never stop until he made it back to the Sydis House—not that they had a chance of succeeding at any escape attempts, since even if they left, the Order would be able to find them, to follow them.
They were trapped.
“Next, allow me to show you our research department. Ours is extensive; most of the centers don’t have so many projects going on at once. Due to our proximity to District City, we are offered a rare opportunity to study the site,” Angela said, pressing a tile on the wall. Something clicked and whirred, and the wall opened to reveal a hidden elevator car.
Angela ushered them inside, standing in silence as the door closed and the car began to move down. Alan saw the look of apprehension on Kazuki’s face and knew it matched his own. Rin was scowling more than cowering, but she still looked wary, on edge—as if she were gauging when the right time might be to strike.
“Here we are,” Angela announced as the doors opened with an annoyingly cheerful ding.
The elevator opened into another circular room identical to the rooms above them, except the tile was salmon pink instead of gray. The three doors were even in the same places.
“Let me show you one of the experiments. What would you like to see?” Angela asked. When no one spoke, she continued. “We have healing research on bringing people who have recently died back from the dead, which may be interesting to see. That’s an old project. Edgar Crowley has been working on potions and serums for years. You may have had some experience with those.”
“First-hand experience, right here,” Rin offered and raised her hand.
“Is that what I shot you up with that one time?” Kazuki asked Rin, his face aghast.
Alan’s stomach dropped. That one time had been when he had nearly died, and Rin nearly had to die herself to convince him to return.
“Side effects may include moderate to severe impulse control issues and erratic behavior,” Angela explained. “Which is why they’re still not being used on our clients.”
“Holy shit,” Kazuki gasped.
“Oh, damn, yeah. That explains so much,” Rin said with a half-hearted chuckle. “That’s like nine-tenths of my personality. Throw in sarcastic wit and a love of junk food, and that’s my whole identity defined.”
“Sorry,” Alan muttered, his voice scratchy. He felt terrible.
“Hey, not your fault, love,” Kazuki whispered, squeezing his hand.
“Yeah, that time wasn’t even that big a deal, Alan,” Rin said and shrugged. “I was plenty irrational and unstable before I took any of that stuff.”
Angela had been patiently waiting while they had this conversation. She didn’t seem to be faking her patience; she wasn’t tapping her foot or glancing at her watch. She was just standing still, a pleasant smile painting her face. Alan wondered if she had also been suffering side effects from memory work…some of which were likely the kind you don’t require a payment plan to participate in.
“Sorry, Angela,” Alan told her, feeling sorry for the woman. She believed she was helping people, even if that belief was misguided.
“No problem,” Angela said with a warm smile. “We’re moving along right on schedule. I’d like to show you a few of our newer projects, if you don’t mind.”
Angela opened one of the doors, leading the way down a hall painted the sickly pink color. This one boasted floor to ceiling windows looking in on rooms cloaked in darkness. Rin pressed her face to the glass, peering in.
“Just things in jars,” Rin reported with a shrug and moved on.
“Ah, yes, here’s one of our monitoring stations.” Angela paused in front of the window of a brightly lit room. Inside, a bald young man in one of those white gowns lay on a gurney, wires streaming out of his head to connect him to stacks of blinking computer servers that took up an entire wall. “Remote viewers often record information on the goings on of District City, as well as a number of other larger metropolitan centers.”
“Creepy,” Kazuki muttered. Alan nodded.
“Is that a…job or a service, being a remote-viewing spy?” Rin asked.
“A job. All the people you see on this level work for the Order,” Angela explained cheerily. “On we go. Now this one is something I have always wanted to see.”
They stopped in front of another window. On the other side was a dimly lit room, empty except for a glowing gaunt figure with a stricken expression on their face. Beneath them on the floor was a body. From the angle, Alan could only see the bottom of the corpse’s feet, which were pale gray.
“We’ve recently begun experimenting with taking older shades and reconnecting them with bodies,” Angela explained as the gaunt figure vanished, and the toes of the corpse began to twitch. The body sat up in a jerking motion.
Alan stifled a scream, his heart racing. Kazuki clutched his hand, grimacing. The face of the corpse was skeletal, bits of skin sloughing off at the jaw and forehead. The eyes stared unblinking and vacant. The mouth opened with a creaking sound in a silent scream. Alan had to look away.
Rin cursed, then gave a curt laugh.
“Remarkable, isn’t it?” Angela beamed.
“That’s one way to put it,” Alan whispered.
“That’s what Edgar and Minerva have done? Gotten their shades into new bodies?” Rin asked. “That’s why they’re all…kind of like really smart zombies or whatever?”
“Yes. Isn’t it wonderful? The original leaders of the Order were so successful, we’ve been trying to repeat their success with other, less powerful shades,” Angela explained. “If these experiments are successful, think of the things we can do. We can bring the dead back to life. We can defeat death—humanity’s greatest common enemy will be little more than an inconvenience.”
The corpse collapsed back onto the floor with a thud.
“Defeat death?” Alan repeated, the thought filling him with a slimy sense of dread. “That’s…not okay.”
“I know, it seems a little foolish, but it has been the goal of scientists and philosophers throughout history. If death can become a thing of the past, think of what people will accomplish. The new discoveries that will be made when we can converse with great thinkers from our past.” Angela spoke as if she were addressing an audience from a stage, her eyes glazed over, her smile broad and plastic.
Alan had never feared anyone more than he did in that moment, where he glimpsed someone who so deeply trusted the words she’d been fed without questioning any of it. People like that were more dangerous than any other sort.
“I don’t understand how this has anything to do with us,” Rin said flatly. “These experiments seem to be running just fine. Why do we need to perform the ritual? How will that help anything?”
“Well, we’ve found by studying District City that the culling spell does seem to impact the amount of power all psychics have, so that is one part of it,” Angela said as she ushered the group away from the window where the corpse was now lying on the floor, unmoving, the glowing figure of the ghost nowhere to be found. “Of course, those of you who survive the ritual will continue to work for the Order and use much of the power you have gathered to conduct research and provide services.”
“What if we don’t want to?” Kazuki asked gruffly.
“It’s not a choice,” Angela said with a smile. “The Order does not take into account what is good for only one person, but many.”
“Unless they’re one of the original sainted killers,” Kazuki muttered under his breath.
“What about the suppression stuff?” Rin asked. “The stuff that you used on us yesterday and that Amaya had used on her as a kid?”
“Oh, yes, we have been testing various tinctures, sprays, and solutions for quite some time on select District City residents,” Angela replied. “I was one of the psychics given a batch early on. I’m prone to visions of the past, reliving horrible, ghastly things in my sleep every night. War and famine, disaster and plague, you would have no idea.”
“Try me,” Rin quipped, but Angela ignored her.
“The suppression drugs have done wonders for me, preventing me from having any more visions. The side effects are minor in comparison to my sleepless nights. I no longer dream at all, just sleep peacefully, undisturbed,” Angela said.
“That’s good, I guess,” Alan mused. “Did you ever wonder why you were having those visions?”
Angela seemed taken aback by the question.
“I mean…I’ve only had one vision and it wasn’t that scary, so I don’t know how bad it can be. They’re not just bad dreams, right?” Alan said, his voice faltering towards the end. “I mean, the things that I saw were things that meant something. I saw the tower with Minerva Echelon, and it was how I knew we were in the right place. If that vision helped lead me here…and I’m supposed to be here to help with the Order, then aren’t the visions…useful? Like maybe you were seeing terrible scenes from the past so that you knew about how awful it could be to be in a city that was being destroyed. That way, you wouldn’t be part of such an act in the future.”
Angela’s eye started twitching. Kazuki gave him a loving smirk, kissing him on the cheek. Rin was grinning with twisted amusement.
“Unfortunately, that will be the end of our tour today,” Angela eventually managed to say, her face still twitching. “You are to have lunch in the reception hall.”
Angela was leading them back to the elevator when her phone buzzed. She glanced down at the screen, reading the message. “Ah,” she said, smiling up at them. “It seems your companions are arriving and will be joining you for the meal. It will be a wonderful opportunity to discuss the rest of the day’s events. I’ll be taking Rin, and we will catch up with you later.” She grabbed Rin by the wrist, dragging her off the elevator.
“Hey, wait,” Alan sputtered. An icy twinge of fear slid up his throat, preventing him from speaking more than a few brief words of protest. Everything was happening so fast. Separating them was bad—like, end-the-world bad.
“Let me go!” Rin thrashed away from Angela’s grip and tried to make it back into the elevator.
“Rin!” Kazuki shouted as he reached out toward her, but it was too late. The doors closed and locked in place. Kazuki pounded on them, smashing buttons on the control panel in frustration. Nothing worked. The elevator was coursing upward on a set path.
It was starting.
It was going to happen today.
Alan slumped back against the wall. He just wanted to run away and hide in the woods for the rest of his life with Kazuki and Rin. He was done with adventures, done with secrets, done with supernatural experiments and special powers. He just wanted to make pancakes and grow vegetables.
“Oh no,” Alan groaned as the elevator jerked.
Kazuki turned away, giving up on defeating the elevator to check on him. He gently touched his shoulder and whispered, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Babe, if we’re busy destroying cities and doing creepy psychic stuff, who will water my plants? I didn’t think we’d be gone that long,” Alan lamented, wide-eyed and serious.
“Love, I think that’s the least of our problems. We can grow new plants in…whatever prison they keep us in after we do the ritual.” Kazuki said the last part with a shudder. “No. No, we’re not giving in. We’re not going to stay any longer than we have to. We’re not doing the ritual. We’re going to burn this place to the ground and then get out as fast as we can. We’re going back home, I promise.”
“Home.” Alan nodded, determined.
“Home,” Kazuki repeated, like an incantation.
Somehow, saying it made it feel more than possible, even if they would likely never see their old home again.
CHAPTER 23
THE ONE WHERE AMAYA CRASHES A PARTY
(Sunday, Noon)
The car shuddered to a stop and refused to move forward. Below them, a hill rose out from the trees, out of place in what had been nothing but flat lands for miles. Amaya knew what it was without even asking, but Tanith told her anyway.
“That’s the burial mound,” they said, their voice strained from the effort of keeping the car aloft. “The one from the photographs. The one that was built for those that died in District City during the first culling.”
Looking at it, Amaya couldn’t help but see flashes of bodies lying in the streets. People once alive and vibrant, struck down in an instant. The Order must have conscripted workers to haul them into trucks, stacking them up on top of each other to fit as many as they could before driving out to the edge of the woods to dump them. More workers still would need to dig the ditches, to pile the corpses, to cover them in dirt. What happened to all those workers? Were they, too, forced to join the nameless dead? Or were they walking around unaware, all the memories of building such a terrible monument cleansed from their minds?
“We’ve reached the barrier,” Amaya said, looking away from the mound and out toward what lay before them. It appeared to be nothing but more forested land, devoid of any signs of human life. She blinked, trying to focus, to see beyond what they wanted her to see. On the other side of the barrier, just beyond their reach, a stone tower loomed like a lone chess piece lost from its board.
“I guess it’s time for me to try and break it,” Tanith muttered. “Wish me luck?”
“Good luck,” Amaya said in a voice barely above a whisper. “If you need me to help, I can try.”
“It’s fine, I can do it.” Tanith waved her off, closing their eyes and taking a deep breath.
The air around them filled with a humming sound, low at first, then rising up to a higher pitch. Amaya could feel the vibration of the energy around her. If she cleared her mind of any stray thoughts and focused on the flow of energy, she could see them: multi-colored waves of light bending and twisting like ribbons of power, filling the air around them.
Above and below the colored light bent and twisted, weaving together in a lattice work like a net. The humming sound was rising. Tanith’s face was placid. It looked as though there was no effort being exerted at all. They sat still and calm, as if in a deep trance.
All sound stopped and the air grew still. It was as though a switch had been turned and time itself stood still. Amaya held her breath.
A whistling pierced the silence, followed by a crackling blast. Amaya watched as the net of energy exploded in bursts of fractured stars and fell all around them like brilliant colored snow.
“It’s beautiful.” She gasped, leaning forward over the dashboard as she watched the barrier dissolve in a shower of rainbow light. She rolled down the window and stuck her hand out, catching a sizzling drop that melted into nothing in her palm.
“Looks like fireworks.” Tanith smiled weakly, opening their silver-gray eyes to peer out at the sight. “My mom set some off with us once, on a rooftop. Must have been back before the Red were banished from the city.”
“How do you feel?” Amaya asked, curiously but not without concern. “Losing that much energy at once must feel draining.”
“Weird,” Tanith said, their brow wrinkling as they struggled to find the words to describe the sensation. “Kind of lonely to be without all that power built of pain. All that beauty was made from my mom’s death, from all the deaths that she orchestrated in the city. Without that inside me, I might be free, but I’ll never be the same again.”
“At least you won’t explode anymore,” Amaya offered, thinking back to the note she’d written on the white board only hours ago. “I can erase that from the Problems side of the board now.”
Tanith smiled weakly. “One less thing to deal with, yeah.” They watched the streaming colors continue to break apart and fall around them.
“Ugh, the hell is all this?” Calen grumbled, leaning over Tanith’s shoulder from the backseat. “Fireworks?”
“Yeah,” Tanith whispered. “Fireworks.”
“Are we celebrating something?” Calen yawned and then leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. “Did we win?”
“Not yet,” Tanith said. “We’ve got a bit more to do first. Amaya?”
Amaya nodded and willed the Fiat to move forward, through the curtain of the dissolving barrier and toward the stone tower. Once they passed through it, the whole sky changed, going from a cloudy gray to a brilliant blue. The sunlight streamed brightly down over the city that lay below them. Amaya set them down onto a proper road that wound down the hill beside the tower.
“You can drive it now, if you like,” she told Tanith. “Or I’ll keep doing the thing. I just figured we ought to make a less conspicuous entrance.”
