Ghost Book One: The Earth Transformed

– Chapter Nine –

“So,” asked Angie. “When do you think he went around the bend?”

“Who, me? Oh, you mean Finster.” I scratched my chin. “Coulda been a long time ago. I mean, it woulda had to be frustrating for a guy who’s trying to discover ways to survive the apocalypse to have his research interrupted by the apocalypse. And maybe this killer robot business made things worse. Like he felt he had to speed up evolution before Cochise’s machines steamrolled his operation.”

“I got another question,” said Vargas. “When did he become an android? Before the apocalypse? After? Was he always like that? And if he wasn’t, why did he do it? Just to prolong his life? Or was there some other reason?”

“How about, how did he become an android?” I added.

“Maybe we’ll find out when we get in his head,” said Ace.

“If we get in his head,” said Hell Razor, glaring at Athalia. “Seems like some unlikely–ass shit to me. How do you know how to do this stuff anyway?”

Athalia looked up from trying to hook Finster’s head up to the computer we’d found in a little room off his office. “The Church of the Mushroom Cloud teaches its children well — especially those trained to fight androids and robots.”

Angie waved a hand. “Ignore him. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Athalia nodded and bent her head to her work again as we all watched. This was our last chance. We’d searched the whole damn facility from top to bottom for that sec pass and come up with nothing. It had been an easy — but frustrating — search, since there was nothing on any of the shelves or in any of the closets. The place was so clean and neat that there was nowhere to hide anything.

It had been when Hell Razor had suggested we start kicking in the walls and seeing what was behind them that I had a brilliant inspiration.

“Wait!” I’d said. “Finster’s memory! What if he was talking about the pictures of back when he founded this place?”

Well, it was brilliant, but wrong. We’d run down to the lab again and broke open the frames of all those old photos. There was nothing inside. Still, it wasn’t a completely wasted effort, because it in turn inspired Athalia.

“Hang on,” she’d said as we’d stared at the empty picture frames. “Finster was an android. He had a computer for a brain. What if the answer is in his memory? His RAM?”

Fortunately, she knew about this kind of stuff, because the rest of us didn’t, and we followed her back up to Finster’s office, detached his head, and then got to work trying to hook it up to the weird computer console in the closet.

Hell Razor growled and spit on the spotless floor. “Can’t we just hook him up to a battery, wake his ass up, then slap him around until he tells us?”

Vargas shook his head. “Sounds like fun, but what’s to stop him from lying? This way we get at the actual info… if we can get in.”

Athalia put down a pair of needle nose pliers and looked up. “It’s ready. I hope.”

Everybody turned around.

“Okay,” said Angie. “So how does it work?”

Athalia held up a weird headset that looked like a cross between a pair of headphones and a salad strainer. “Wearing this hooks you into Finster’s brain, and you should be able to walk around inside the file structures like it was a library. At least I hope that’s what it’s like. He got banged around a lot in that last fight. Things might be a little jumbled up in there.” She cleared her throat. “Which is why I’d like to volunteer to be the one to go in. I’ve got a lot of experience with computers and artificial intelligence. I know what to expect.”

Vargas and Angie frowned and exchanged a look, then Vargas shook his head.

“Mighty nice of you, sister,” he said, “and what you say makes a lot of sense, but… well, we don’t really know you from Adam. I mean, you’ve been real helpful and all, and you’ve certainly held up your end in combat, but I can’t say I actually know why you’re along for this ride, and that makes me a little nervous about what you might do with the info you find in there. So, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather have a ranger put that rig on.”

Athalia pursed her lips, disappointed, but then shrugged. “If that’s the way you want to do it, fine. I’ll just say that it might be dangerous for someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing. There could be built in biofeedback mechanisms that could send a shock down the wire and leave you brain–dead.”

“Gotcha. Thanks,” said Vargas, then looked around at the rest of us. “So, any volunteers?”

I sighed and raised my hand. “It’s fine. Let the clone do it.”

Angie managed to look relieved and guilty at the same time. “Ghost, are you sure?”

I spread my hands. “Hey, I oughta be used to weird, disorienting experiences by now. I’m the only one here who’s woken up in a cloning chamber with somebody else’s memories in his head, right?”

The other rangers looked around at each other, then shrugged.

“Okay,” said Vargas. “You’re our man.”

“The Ghost in the machine,” said Angie.

I laughed at that, though my stomach was busy tying itself in knots. Athalia put a hand on my shoulder and motioned me to a chair.

“Have a seat,” she said. “I’ll get you hooked up.”

I swallowed. “Can’t wait.”

I cringed as my eyes were burned with a searing yellow light.

Wait, were my eyes even open? It was hard to tell. The colors around me kind of looked like the fireworks that happen if you close your eyes and press your knuckles into your eyelids for too long — yellow, green, red, blue.

I stumbled forward, hands out. Was I walking? Floating? That was hard to tell too. I stubbed my fingers against a vibrating wall. It looked exactly like the floor.

“How do I even move around in here?”

And where was here, anyway? I was sitting in a chair in front of a computer, wasn’t I?

I couldn’t see anything but the crazy colors, couldn’t feel anything but the pulsing walls and floors around me. Was I in my head? No. This was Finster’s head. It didn’t look like I’d imagined it. Like a library or the inside of a computer. It was just this weird yellow brightness.

I started feeling my way around the space and noticed that weird thoughts and random phrases were popping into my head with each touch. It was like I was overhearing snippets of conversations.

“Research and education will be Project Darwin’s highest priority. I assure you, Commander.”

“No! No area of research can be considered off limits! Not when the future of humanity is at stake!”

“We will prepare our citizens in case the worst happens. They will be modified to survive under any conditions.”

“Dammit! We are not playing god just for the sake of it! We produce only useful life!”

“I swear, John. You’ll get the Nobel Prize for this.”

This snippet came with visuals. A dark–haired woman — I remembered her from the faded photos in the lab downstairs — wrapped in my arms, looking lovingly into my eyes. I answered her.

“Really? When we’re not even allowed to tell anyone what we’re doing?”

The scene vanished. A mechanical voice cut in.

“Complete the sequence — four, two, eight, four, thirty–two, sixteen….”

There was a barrier in front of me. It looked like everything else in this place, but somehow I could tell that there was another room behind it. I pushed at it.

“Complete the sequence — four, two, eight, four, thirty–two, sixteen….”

This voice was different than the others. It was talking directly to me.

“Huh? I don’t understand.”

“Complete the sequence — four, two, eight, four, thirty–two, sixteen….”

Shit. I’d never been any good at this kind of stuff. I had no idea. I repeated it out loud, hoping that would help.

“Complete the sequence? What was it again? Four, two, eight, four, thirty–two, sixteen…?”

A new voice came into my head, this one was muffled and far far away, but somehow more real than the other ones. “It’s five–hundred and twelve, Ghost. That’s the next number.”

That was Athalia. Was she in here with me? Had I actually spoken out loud, in the real world.

I looked around the blinding space, “Uh… is the answer five–hundred and twelve?”

The barrier dissolved. I stepped forward into another space that looked exactly like the one I’d just left.

“Who’s there?”

I recognized the voice. It was Finster.

“Who entered that security code?”

I waved at the ceiling — which made about as much sense as waving at the floor, but whatever. “Hiya, Finster.”

“Who is that? Who is in my mind? How did you…?” There was a long pause. “I am dead, yes?”

“Pretty much, yeah. But with your dying breath you told us the sec pass for Sleeper One was in here, so… here I am. Want to tell me where to look?”

There was no answer.

“Uh, hello?”

Still nothing. I moved around the space, bumping into the walls.

“Hello?”

“Who is that? Who is in my mind? How did you…?” Again a long pause. “I am dead, yes?”

“Uh… we just went over this. Yes. You’re dead. I’m looking for the sec pass.”

Another long pause. “I am dead, yes?”

“Yeah. We just—”

“I am dead, yes?”

“Oh boy.”

Finster didn’t appear to be doing very well. He seemed like a dying light bulb, flickering and dimming before finally going dark forever. Understandable, considering he was on life support and all, but selfishly I was a little more concerned about me. Was this going to make the inside of his head harder to navigate? Would I be able to find what I was looking for? What happened if he died completely while I was in here? Would I just get kicked out back into my own head, or would I be trapped in here when it all went dark? Whatever happened, getting out fast was probably the best option.

“Daddy!”

The shriek brought me up short. I looked around. Though I hadn’t seen anybody before, suddenly I was not alone. There was a misshapen form in the corner, weeping and feeling at the walls like it was blind.

“I’m sorry, daddy! I’m sorry I wasn’t born right!”

I edged closer and saw that it was one of the night screamers, like the ones we’d fought in Finster’s wild animal park. Only this one looked huge — twice as big as me, with a head the size of a beer keg hanging from a neck too weak to hold it upright.

“Don’t leave me in here, daddy! I’m scared!”

Did the thing mean Finster was its father? Did it mean it literally? The images that brought up in my mind were so disturbing that I just wanted to get out of there. I tip–toed behind the creature’s back and reached another barrier.

“Complete the sequence — four, six, eight, twelve….”

“Shhh!”

I shot a look back at the screamer. It was too busy crying.

“Complete the sequence — four, six, eight, twelve….”

I repeated it out loud again — but softly. “Uh, another sequence. Four, six, eight, twelve….”

There was no response from Athalia.

I tried again. “Four, six, eight—”

“I heard you, Ghost. I just… I have no idea. Uh, just start at thirteen and go up.”

I started to say ‘thirteen’ but then another vision took me over — a bunch of kids sitting around a table playing some kind of game with little tin figures of knights and dragons, funny shaped dice, and lots of books. One of the kids looked at me.

“Okay, Irwin, I pick the lock. What happens?”

I picked a die that was practically round and rolled it behind a screen so the other kids couldn’t see. Yes! The thief was doomed.

“Twenty!” I shouted. “Twenty!”

The barrier dissolved.

From outside my head I heard Athalia. “Twenty? And that worked? Oooo–kay.”

I stepped into the next room, then blinked. I’d only taken a step, but already I was halfway to the far wall. I stepped back, surprised, and was in a corner. I stopped and looked around, trying to figure out what was wrong. I couldn’t see anything different about this place. Crazy walls, crazy floor, just like the others, a barrier in the far corner.

I started toward it and ended up off to one side again. Some kind of glitch? Was I losing my connection? I stepped toward the barrier again and again ended up facing the wrong way in the middle of the room. I turned and ran toward it as fast as I could and ended up smashing my face into the wall behind me.

I picked myself up, frowning. Maybe there was a pattern to where the room moved you. If I could figure out the pattern…

I stepped forward — and ended up right where I’d started. And—

“Kibbles and bits. Kibbles and bits. I’m gonna carve you into kibbles and bits.”

I whipped around. “Who said that?”

It hadn’t sounded like Finster, but it hadn’t sounded like the Night Screamer either. It had sounded completely deranged. There was no–one there. Had I imagined it?

I tried another direction — and ended up right where I’d started. And—

“Kibbles and bits. Kibbles and bits. I’m gonna carve you into kibbles and bits.”

Goddamn it! I was trapped in this corner with the crazy voice jabbering at me. What the hell? Was this a security measure? Was it Finster’s brain falling apart? Was there some kind of invisible monster in the room with me?

Maybe I was getting bad signals from my eyes. I closed them and instead pictured walking to the barrier. I took a step. I couldn’t tell if I’d been teleported or not, but in my mind I was a step closer. Another step, and another.

After ten steps it felt like I was at the barrier. I opened my eyes. To my utter amazement, I really was at the barrier, and it was open.

“Well, how about that.”

I entered the next room. The far wall was partially obscured by weird, grayish strands. I couldn’t tell if they were some kind of visual glitch or if they were actually there. I stepped toward them. A thing that looked a lot like a giant spider dropped down in front of it and waggled its mandibles at me.

I rolled my eyes. “Really? A giant spider? Come on!”

Finster’s voice spoke in my head again. “There is no spider. There are no webs. There is nothing behind them. You should turn around and go back.”

“I didn’t mention any webs,” I said. “How do you know I’m seeing webs if they’re not there?”

“Because I am in your mind as much as you’re in mine.”

I hesitated. I guessed that could be true.

“Well, we’ll see.”

I started for the webs, keeping as far away from the spider as possible. It charged, crossing the space between us in the blink of an eye, and swiped a foreleg at me. I reeled back, cursing. That had hurt!

“You’re a goddamn liar, Finster!”

He tittered. “It was just a little white lie.”

I reached for my pistol, then stared at it as I drew and aimed at the spider. Why the hell did I have my gun in here? I wasn’t really here. Not physically. But now that I looked down at myself I saw I was dressed like me. All my cuts and bruises were where they were supposed to be. My boots were still covered in dust from Finster’s fake landscape. But that was all just me remembering what I looked like and transplanting it into this artificial reality because I desperately needed a point of reference, right? None of my gear would actually work.

The spider swiped at me again and I jumped back just in time.

Time to find out.

I dodged another claw and fired. The space echoed with the shot, and a hole appeared between the spider’s eight eyes. It sank to the ground, dead.

“That shouldn’t have happened,” I said. “That shouldn’t be possible. This isn’t reality. That wasn’t a real bullet.”

“Neither was the spider,” said Finster. “I told you.”

I stepped up the webs. “So these aren’t real either?”

“Of course not.”

I pushed against them. They flexed, but didn’t break. “Feel real to me.”

“That’s because you aren’t real either.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

I pushed against the webs with all my might, and with a sudden twang they broke apart and I was in.

I stepped through the next opening, shaking my head and thinking how crazy it all was, then knocked the dirt from my cleats with the tip of my bat and crossed to home plate. I looked out toward the pitcher’s mound and saw my old foe, Christy Matthews, grinning at me. I gave him a nod back. It was always a battle when old Matty and I crossed paths. The home run king versus the strikeout king. The bleachers cheered us both. Equally divided.

I raised my bat.