Shadows

30

Alan Dover had been on his way back from the Aldriches’ house to the police department when the call had come through diverting him up to the Academy adjoining the university grounds. What the dispatcher had told him sounded crazy — Adam Aldrich and Amy Carlson still alive? Impossible. Dover had seen their bodies himself.

Still, though he was sure it was a crank call, maybe one of those Academy kids pulling off a weird practical joke, he wanted to talk to Jeff Aldrich anyway. He’d found some papers hidden in the boy’s room. Though he couldn’t read them very well, they were clearly electronics diagrams for the same model car the boy’s parents had died in that morning. Was it possible that the boy had actually killed his own parents? Of course, he knew it was possible — younger children than Jeff Aldrich had committed such crimes. Dover shook his head as he pulled up in front of the Academy, wondering once more at the kind of world that could produce such kids.

In the foyer of the mansion, he found a crowd of children chattering among themselves. As they spotted him coming in the front door, their voices instantly rose, each of them trying to be the first to tell him what had happened.

“There were screams,” one of the girls said, her face pale. “It was really weird. They sounded like they were coming from inside the walls!”

Dover frowned, then turned to another of the kids, a boy of about twelve. Brad Hinshaw nodded his agreement with what the girl had just said. “It was only for a couple of minutes, but it was really strange.” He hesitated, then decided he might as well tell the police what they’d all been talking about. “There’s a story about Mr. Barrington,” he began. “He’s supposed to come back sometimes. You can hear him at night in the elevator, but—”

“All right,” Dover cut in. “I’m not here to listen to ghost stories. I’m going upstairs, and the rest of you aren’t.” He fixed them with his severest stare. “Is that clear, or do I have to call some more officers?”

A couple of the kids backed away from him, and none of the rest seemed interested in following, so Dover hurried up to the fourth floor, where he found a locked door. Rapping loudly, he called out, “Josh? Are you in there?”

There was a brief silence before Dover heard a timid voice coming through the heavy wood of the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s the police, Josh. I’m the one who talked to you at the beach. Remember?”

Dover waited again, then heard a lock click. The door opened. Josh, his face pale, his eyes frightened, looked up at him. “Something’s happened,” he whispered. “Something terrible. Adam’s dead. And so is Dr. Engersol and Jeff and Hildie and …”

Easing his way into the room, and closing the door behind him in case any of the kids downstairs decided to come up and see what was happening, Alan Dover looked quickly around. Except for the books scattered all over the floor, everything looked normal.

Certainly, he saw no bodies.

“All right,” he said, moving toward Josh, who had gone to the desk and was now staring at a computer screen while his fingers tapped at the keyboard. “Why don’t you just tell me—”

“Look!” Josh said. “Look — you can see it!”

Dover came around the desk and glanced at the screen, instantly freezing. The image he saw made his groin tighten and his stomach churn. What he was looking at was some kind of laboratory, and on its floor were two bodies, both of them lying faceup.

He recognized them instantly.

Jeff Aldrich, whom he’d seen less than an hour ago, and George Engersol, the director of the Academy. “Holy Christ,” he whispered under his breath. His eyes still on the screen, he spoke to Josh. “You said—”

Understanding the policeman’s question even before he asked it, Josh tapped at the keyboard, and the view changed. Dover recognized Hildie Kramer lying on what looked like some kind of operating table. From her position alone, he could see that she was dead.

His gaze left the screen and fastened on Josh. “Do you know what happened down there?”

Josh nodded, his chin quivering and his eyes glistening with barely controlled tears. “P — Part of it,” he stammered. Slowly, concentrating as hard as he could on keeping his voice steady, he told Dover as much as he knew. “I didn’t see all of it,” he finished, his voice finally breaking. “F — For a while I couldn’t see anything, because Adam turned the camera off. But after he died—”

“Josh, Adam Aldrich has been dead for more than two weeks,” Alan Dover interrupted.

“No, he hasn’t!” Josh wailed. “He was down there! His brain was still alive!”

Dover decided not to try to argue with the boy, certain that after what he’d seen, he must be on the edge of hysteria. “All right,” he said soothingly. “Do you know how I can get down there?”

“The elevator,” Josh told him. “I think I got it working again. And I got the vents fixed, too, and the generator turned off.”

Dover stared at the boy. “The vents? A generator? What are you talking about?”

“He killed them!” Josh shouted, almost hysterical now. “Don’t you understand? That’s how he killed them!”

“Take it easy, Josh,” Dover broke in. “Let me make a call, and then I’m going down there.” Flipping his radio out of the holster on his belt, he spoke quickly, asking for three ambulances and more officers. “I don’t know what’s going on yet, but I’ll get back to you in a few minutes.” Putting the radio back on his belt, he started toward the elevator.

“I’m coming, too,” Josh announced.

Dover stared at the little boy. “Son, I don’t think—”

“Amy’s down there,” Josh said, his face setting stubbornly. “She’s my friend, and she saved my life. Hildie was going to kill me, and Amy stopped her. Now I have to help her!”

Dover thought it over quickly. The boy had already seen what was down there, and he didn’t have time to argue with him. Besides, Josh seemed to know what had been going on in the lab. He made up his mind. “All right,” he said. “Come on.”

The elevator descended slowly. Josh, standing silently next to Alan Dover, unconsciously slipped his hand into the sergeant’s, who squeezed it reassuringly.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open.

“Jesus,” Dover muttered as he stepped out of the car and saw Jeff Aldrich’s body lying just inside the laboratory door.

With Josh following behind him, Dover went into the lab, quickly stooping to check both Jeff Aldrich and George Engersol for signs of life.

Both of them were dead.

Turning away from the two bodies, Dover gazed at the smashed tank and the mass of tissue that lay on the floor amidst the broken glass. Then his eyes shifted to the other tank, and the strange-looking object inside it.

A brain.

A human brain, suspended in some kind of fluid, a maze of wires sprouting from its cortex; tubes and more wires protruding from the arteries, veins, and nerve cord at its base.

A shiver passed through him as he scanned the complicated machinery surrounding the tank. A small pump was running steadily, and on a monitor above the tank the activity of the brain in the tank was still displayed.

Beneath the monitor a neat placard identified the brain waves it was tracking:

AMY CARLSON

A wave of nausea swept over Dover, but he managed to control it. “It isn’t possible,” he breathed, not even aware he’d spoken aloud.

“It’s just like the class,” Josh whispered.

“The class?” Dover asked, looking down at the boy standing next to him. “What class is that, Josh?”

Josh’s eyes never left the monitor as he spoke. “Dr. Engersol’s class. The seminar on artificial intelligence. W-We were monitoring a cat’s brain.” He fell silent, staring at the monitor.

Amy?

Could it really be Amy?

He wanted to cry, but clamped down on the sob that rose in his throat, threatening to choke him. “Sh-She’s not dead,” he whispered. “It’s just like I said. She’s still alive.”

Dover hesitated. “Josh, do you know how to work this computer? Can you shut it down?”

For the first time Josh’s eyes left the monitor, and he gazed up at the police officer. “Shut it down?” he asked. “B-But if we shut it down, Amy will die.”

Alan Dover squeezed Josh’s arm reassuringly. “She’s already dead, son,” he said. “She must be.”

Josh shook his head adamantly. “She’s not dead,” he insisted. “Look at the monitor. If she was dead, there wouldn’t be any brain waves. And they’re not even flat. It’s like …” He cast around in his mind. “It’s like she’s asleep or something! M-Maybe I can talk to her. Maybe I can wake her up!”

“Son, that’s just plain—”

“I have to try!” Josh exclaimed.

As Josh went to the keyboard and began exploring the programs that were not only keeping Amy alive, but had allowed Engersol to communicate with her, Dover picked up the phone that hung on one wall of the lab, knowing that this far below the surface of the ground, and surrounded by concrete, his radio would be useless.

“Phil?” Dover said when the desk sergeant at the police station answered his phone. “You know where Amy Carlson’s folks are staying?”

“Don’t have to ask,” Phil Rico replied. “They’re here, wanting to know what we’re doing about their daughter.”

Dover sighed. “Have someone bring them over here, Phil. It — Well, it seems like maybe their daughter isn’t dead.”

There was dead silence from the other end. Then: “Don’t jerk my chain, Dover!”

“Just do it, Phil,” Dover replied. He hung up the phone, then returned to Josh. He stared uncomprehendingly over the boy’s head at the computer screen, feeling more useless than he ever had before in his life.