Synthetic: Dark Beginning (28 page)

“I can take it from here,” said Alex, buckling Ivan back into his seat and synching up the straps until he gasped. “I’m his nurse. He's over one hundred and suffers from severe dementia.” She pointed the chair toward the palace.

“What the hell was that supposed to mean?” asked Ivan as they raced away.

Alex leaned down so her lips were right beside his ear.  “Pull a stunt like that again, grandpa, and I’ll break both your legs so you'll be in this chair for the rest of your life.”

Ivan settled back in his seat.
“
Not a bad prospect. I'm already getting attached to this bucket of bolts.
”

Vaughn met them at the doors to the palace ballroom. “Took you long enough,” said Alex as they pushed their way through the crowd. Alex searched for Kora, but there was no sign of her.  In the distance, she saw Randall below a spotlight dressed in a crisp white suit. He was parading around on a gold, rotating stage like the master of ceremonies in a burlesque theater. A larger than life hologram of Ruby loomed center stage, her sagging face staring toward the back of the theater where they all stood in a line.
Randall spun Ruby's ghost like a top and her fat, withered body morphed into the pale beauty of a synthetic like a shape-shifting enchantress. 

“As you can see, the procedure is quick, painless and dramatic,” said Randall, waving his pointer around like a magic wand.

An old woman at a table near the front raised a limp, jewel-encrusted hand. Despite her shriveled throat, her voice carried across the ballroom with great authority. “Will I have to look something like that young lady, then? I’ve been a natural blond my whole life and I prefer to remain that way.”

Randall slid toward her as if pulled by an invisible string. “Blonds just happen to be my personal favorite. You can look however you want but each feature will cost extra, depending on how advanced you wish your new body to be. We want every single one of you ladies out there to feel like a goddess when we’re through with you. And everyone who pre-orders a new body today, gets a luxury tour of a new real estate opportunity here at Mirafield.” His arms swept through the air. “An exciting new Santa Monica community designed exclusively for synthetic-human hybrids.” A tittering of approval went through the crowd.

Alex needed a diversion if she was going to get into the heavily guarded palace and find Kora's drive.  Security cameras had already filmed her freeing the captives so she was certain they were on the lookout for her.  She crept up next to Ivan.  “I need you to do something that draws the security away from the doors to Randall's private rooms.”

Ivan sneered at her.  “Why should I help you?  You're the enemy. I don't trust you anymore than Randall so get lost!”

“We're working together right now, remember, grandpa?  Do it or I'll smash in your ugly little face.”  Then Alex kissed him.  She wasn't sure why she did it, maybe just to distract the hideous bastard who sure as hell had never been kissed before. Whatever the reason, it worked.

“Fine, but you owe me,” said Ivan, his eyes as round as hubcaps.  He trundled his chair deeper into the crowd, cursing at anyone who didn't get out of the way. He parked himself in the front where Randall was prancing around onstage with a laser pointer
.

“So where is this synthetic-human hybrid you're talking about?” asked Ivan in a loud, gruff voice.  “I don't care about stupid holograms—those are easily faked— I want to see the real thing.”

Alex ducked as Randall peered into the spotlights in search of the rabble-rouser. “Is there a problem sir?” asked Randall in a tense voice.

“If this procedure was so successful, where’s Ruby? Bring her out instead of this stupid light show. If I’m going to hand over my hard-earned money for one of these synthetic bodies, I want to see the real woman, not a bunch of flashy lights.” Randall opened his mouth to defend himself, but Ivan jabbed his finger into the air. “And who will be performing this operation? Why aren’t they here? I’m putting my life in their hands. I want to know who I’m dealing with.”

Many in the crowd mumbled their agreement, and Randall looked around with a slightly bewildered expression. “This is merely an introductory meeting.  Our whole team will be present during individual appointments.”

“This is just another scam,” hollered Ivan. “You have no proof that you’ve turned a human immortal, do you? Just a sure way to draw in a crowd with lots of cash and swindle them into buying property in this glittering dump.”

“That wasn’t my intention at all,” mumbled Randall as voices in the crowd swelled against him.

Alex, who was lingering along the back wall, noticed the guards step away from the door leading up to Randall’s private rooms.  All eyes in the palace were on Ivan. The little troll was worth his weight in gold and though she hated to admit it, kissing him hadn't been entirely unpleasant. Deflowering him would be even more amusing. With liquid stealth, Alex slipped behind the guards and turned several corners until she stood at the base of a golden stairwell adorned with a sickening display of cherubs. Randall's taste always made her ill.  She flew up the stairs into a bright pink drawing room and slunk through a jungle of exotic plants until she reached his office. There, she banged through the drawers of a polished, claw-footed desk the size of an elephant. Then she spotted his jacket; the same one he'd had on earlier in the day.  She rifled through the pockets until she felt the plastic bag.  He'd forgotten all about destroying it.  Randall may look thirty, but his brain was nearing eighty.

She didn't need to examine the drive's contents because it was only a bargaining tool to get her chip out, but Alex was curious. She slipped the drive out of the bag and hooked it to the viewing screen attached to her wrist.  The video was old and impossibly long, as if someone had filmed every moment of their life for many years.  She shut herself into a closet for privacy and watched, her mouth salivating for all the dirt she'd have to smear over Mirafield's great prize, Kora Lazar.  Alex fast-forwarded through the video, searching for the annoyingly clean, blue-haired figure to appear, but the only creature who came into view was a wretched, ragged mutant with gray, stitched skin stretched over a rack of bones that looked as if they might collapse like a pile of sticks.  Alex could barely tell it was a woman because h
er black hair was cropped close against her head, as if she'd cut it herself with a pair of dull scissors. She was dressed in a lace wedding gown that was so worn and filthy, it had turned almost the same deathly hue as the creature's skin.

This seemed more like a horror film than something documenting Kora's past.  Alex sulked in disappointment as she watched the pitiful thing move through dark, filthy tunnels crammed with rusty medical equipment and narrow beds, tending to a dozen sick, howling creatures who lined the walls, each more nightmarish than the last.  They cried out in pain as they pawed at the woman's gnarled hands that stroked and soothed, handing out pills and shooting up bony arms with morphine in a manner that showed at least some basic medical skill. 

She was just about to close the viewer, thinking Kora must have uncovered the wrong drive, when something caught her eye: a squid appeared from off camera and helped the woman lift a dead body.  Only one person hung out with a squid and when the monster turned toward the moving camera, Alex looked into the eyes of the woman she'd come to destroy.

Chapter 33

Kora watched from a room at the back of the theater as Randall pointed an angry finger at Ivan.  Vaughn was standing next to the tiny troublemaker who was in a wheelchair, and it sent her heart sliding up into her throat.  Just as Randall promised, about six guards stood high in the theater with dismantling guns. 

“You want to meet who will be performing these miracles?” boomed Randall, drowning out Ivan's gravely voice that now had other voices from the audience joining in.  “Meet my bride, Kora Lazar.”

She stepped through a curtain and a spotlight swooshed over the crowd and landed on her, making her feel suddenly naked.  The crowd parted as she made her way to the stage and she wished, for the first time in her life, that she wasn't wearing white.  When she reached Vaughn, near the front, he grabbed her and dragged her into the crowd before the guards could stop him.

“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed into her ear.

Kora slid her arms around his broad shoulders.  If only she could wake up one morning like that, pressed against him, looking up into his beautiful face.  She'd had the same wish in her previous life, and it was never going to come true. “I have to go.  Randall will kill all of you unless I go through with it.  He has dismantling guns on you and Ivan as we speak.” She gestured up with her chin and Vaughn spotted the gunmen high in the rafters. “We have no choice, Vaughn.”

“There has to be another way out of this.” 

“Yes, and I'm doing it right now.”  She pulled his head down and kissed him; once again, it was like falling, unafraid, into endless blue. He drew her deeper into his arms and the fear she'd struggled with all morning melted away as she lost herself in the tangle of bliss that she'd dreamed about for so many years.  It took every ounce of her resolve to push him back.  “I love you,” she said.

Vaughn held on to her. “I love you, too, and I won't let you go to him.”

“It's the only way out,” she said with a sad smile, pulling away gently.

When she reached the stage, Randall posed with her before the cameras before escorting her up the steps. “You made it, my dear.  Good girl.”  He walked her across the polished floor and stood her directly in the middle, his hand squeezing hers so tight it made her wince.  “And here's our illustrious synthetic designer to tell you all about the miracle.”  Randall leaned over, his breath hot in her ear: “Tell the crowd what I want to hear.”

Kora stared out at the audience of reporters, aging tycoons, and the terminally ill.  She knew what Randall wanted her to say.  He'd rehearsed it with her all morning, but she wouldn't do it.  She didn't belong at Mirafield anymore.  She didn't belong in a clean life behind walls, wearing white clothes designed in Paris.  At one time in her life, Kora had nothing and had sacrificed everything to help others. She would do that once again. Right here. Right now.  “I have never performed a brain transfer into a synthetic body,” she said in a loud voice.

Everyone in the audience started talking at the same time.

Randall shoved her aside, nearly knocking her over.  “What she's trying to say is—”

“The truth,” Kora hollered over him, “is that my friend Ishmael—who happens to be a squid—is the one who performed the operations.  He's the only one who knows how to do it, and Randall has threatened to torture me to make him work.”

Confused laughter rumbled through the crowd.  “What is this nonsense, Randall?” demanded a voice from the front row.

Randall plastered a smile over his enraged face.  “Kora has had a stressful week and needs some rest.  Don't you sweetheart?  Why don't you come with me.”

He tried to grab Kora, but she evaded him.  “I'm immortal,” she screamed, raising her left arm, “but if I take these pills in my hand, I'll enter a permanent coma from which I'll never wake.  I'll be alive, but just barely, and Randall can torture me all he wants and it won't matter.  Ishmael will know that I'm gone. I won't let Randall destroy the lives of those I love. Not anymore.”

Vaughn was fighting through a crowd of security to reach her, but he would be too late.  They all would.  This was the only way that she could free everyone from this madness. Kora was about to drop the pills onto her tongue when the projection of a hideous face appeared on the waterfall behind her like a vast movie screen.  A monstrous man with long black hair that hung in filthy, matted chunks sat at a round, wooden table holding two delicate teacups in his massive paws. Caleb.  How much he'd changed over the years.  The wall behind him looked like jagged rock as if he were setting up a tea party in a deep mine. A naked electric light bulb dangled from a cord above his head, and every now and then it swayed as if touched by a light breeze.

Kora pocketed the pills for later and moved to the side of the stage. Randall, busy ordering guards to find out where the projection was coming from, had forgotten about her. At least for the moment. She could see why security was having so much trouble; the projection seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. An easy trick if you had the right equipment. Randall looked frantic, as if he recognized the clip. Kora focused her attention back on the movie to see why he was so eager to have it stopped. By now, the camera had turned away from Caleb and was focused on
a younger Ruby who was drumming her long, black fingernails on the table.  “Are we having a tea party together like little girls?  I'd at least expected some cucumber sandwiches for the meeting.”

Randall's voice filled the theater and the camera swerved to show him looking so much older, Kora hardly recognized him.  She'd done more surgery on him over the past ten years than she realized.  “I wouldn't eat anything served in this morgue.  I suppose this dreadful creature lives back here because he's nearly dead.”

“His name is Mud,” said Ruby.  “He's the one who made the tea. I constructed him from an Englishman you gave me years ago.  He has no ears or eyes, so just ignore him.”

“An Englishman?” Randall slid from his chair and circled Mud like a curious chimp, disappearing off the right side of the camera then reappearing on the left. “Absolutely hideous.” He tapped his chin with a finger. “I remember you wanted a Cyclops a while back. He’s definitely an early one where things went dreadfully wrong.  Your creatures are all such miserable disasters, it's a good thing we cut you off when we did.”

Ruby pounded the table.  “Can we start the meeting now? Or would you like to spend the rest of the evening insulting me?”

“Let's begin,” said Randall, sliding back into his seat.  “You need blood, Kora out of your house, and in return I have about one hundred people I need to imprison who could feed your new vampire.”

“I'll need more than that,” said Ruby.  “My vampire will kill his victims and suck them dry.”

Randall waved an elegant hand in the air covered with the same rings Kora had always seen on his fingers.  “As long as these protests against Mirafield continue, you'll have as many as you want.”

Ruby leaned toward him across the table.  “I don't want any trouble.”

“I've been giving you my enemies for years.  Have you had any trouble yet?”

“No, but there's talk.  Speculation about what happened to them.  When people just disappear into the night, there's always rumors.”

“And where will these rumors lead?” said Randall, dusting off his sleeve.  “The police?  The government?  I am all those things now, and talk will only lead here, to your dungeon.”

Ruby's eyes were sharp under hooded lids.   “I want more than blood for Kora.  She's brilliant. You saw Vaughn—just imagine how much you could get for a dozen of these superior creatures.”

“So long as they don't destroy the human race.” Randall took a suspicious drink from his tea, his eyes leveled on Mud. “Stephen Hawking once said that humans, who are limited by slow biological evolution, couldn't compete with
superior creatures
, and would be superseded.”

Ruby's face relaxed into a condescending smile. “Don't pretend to understand science, Randall. Your little brain can't handle it. Kora will find a way to make her synthetics safe. She's a malleable genius who is eager to please, like a child. And she'll make you more money than you've ever dreamed of.  Kora will
be
Mirafield and because of that, I deserve half of the company.”

Randall made a choking sound.  “Half?  Are you insane?”

“I made her, and in ten years, I want her to perform the same procedure on me that she's planning for herself.  I'll be seventy by then and ready for a new body.  Ten years will give the girl enough time to practice.”

“If she even succeeds,” grumbled Randall.

“She will.  If she doesn't, she'll die soon so she's highly motivated.”

Randall paused to think, and then stretched out his hand.  “On the condition that she succeeds, you have a deal.  If she fails, the whole thing is off.  But before I deliver the fresh prisoners, I want all of the old ones killed.”

Ruby shook her head. “They are highly skilled craftsmen, now, in the middle of countless projects for my house.”

“You've got to be kidding?” Randall laughed. “You put them to work in a shop. I should have guessed. Still, I want them all dead, starting with this one.” He pointed a finger at Mud who flinched, making the camera shake.

Ruby gazed at Mud. “Why on earth do you care about him? He's nothing.”

“You may have destroyed him beyond recognition, but I still know my old business partner, Mortimer Rothschild,” said Randall. “Begin your killing spree with him.”

A woman in the audience screamed, “Morty! That's my lost husband,” but Kora couldn't tear her eyes away from the projection.

Ruby escorted Randall to the door, then returned to the table where she bent down and stared into the camera.  “To think that at one time, this miserable cyclops was one of the richest men in England.”

“I'm not surprised,” replied Caleb.
“Mud is brilliant. He and Kora have been close for many years.”

“Lovers? Just imagine those two together.”

Ruby laughed and slapped her knee, but Caleb scowled. “They are merely old friends.”

“Friends… I see.” Ruby slithered into her chair. “Funny you should mention old friends because I just happen to have one of yours with me.” She reached beneath the folds of her dress and drew out a massive hunting knife with a great, jagged blade. “Kill him, then all the others like Randall ordered.”

Caleb stared at the blade Ruby placed on the table before him. “Why must I do this?”

Ruby pursed her lips where wrinkles were just forming in the pale skin. She glanced at Mud who remained as immobile as a wooden post. “No one is better at bringing death back where it belongs than you, Caleb. The catacomb will return to a place of quiet decay.”

“Kora is my wife, and these people are my family. Mud is like a brother to me.”

“When are you going to get over this delusion that Kora gives a shit about you? And your family is lying in a tank upstairs in my lab. Have you forgotten about the little son I’m building for you?”

The camera jerked slightly, then returned to stillness.

“I have not forgotten.”

“Then get to work. Or would you rather I dumped your little boy? You’ve seen me do that many times before. I believe we have an entire section of the dumped down here somewhere.”

“NO.” Caleb surged to his feet, nearly knocking the table over, but Mud remained as still as stone.

“Then kill this faceless doorstop.” Ruby paused in the doorway. “When I return here tomorrow, I expect a tomb. Understand?”

Caleb paused, staring into the camera while Ruby waited for his answer. “I will do as you ask.”

After she was gone, Caleb snatched up his teacup and smashed it against the wall. “Why can she not do it herself?” he signed in furious jerks, while a voice translator sounded the signs into words.

Mud didn’t respond right away, but the camera moved as if he was relaxing back into his chair.  Then he reached out a beautiful hand and ran a delicate finger along the knife blade. “I believe this weapon and I have met before, long ago,” he signed.

“I am sure I stabbed you in the heart like the others before I brought you down here,” Caleb signed back to him.

“I’ve always wondered why Kora saved me when I was the most pitiful wretch in the pile. I’ve often wished she let me die.”

Caleb sat with his massive head in his hands. “You finally get your wish.”

Mud paused before signing. “So I was his business partner, Mortimer Rothschild. I always knew he betrayed me.” The camera drifted across the room for a moment before it focused back on Caleb. “Typical, isn't it? Just when I finally learn my real name, my life is over. I’ve longed for death, which is part of the reason I've lived back here, but the possibility that I might one day have revenge on Randall kept me going. Now, Caleb, you’ll help me with both.”

“Both of what?” asked Caleb. Though his face was hidden, it was easy to see from the way Caleb gripped his hair that he was already lost.

“Revenge and death.” Mud folded his hands in front of him. “Did my eye just record Randall and Ruby's dreadful plans for Kora?”  

Caleb looked up and studied Mud before answering. “When Kora and I installed the cybernetic camera so you could see, I hooked it up to a drive lodged in your brain, just as you asked. From the day of that surgery, many years ago, every moment of your dreary life down here was recorded.”