Chapter Twelve: Deus Ex-Terminator
The first thing I saw upon awaking was my status on the red wallpaper:
Unscathed
Hobbled
Mutilated
Dead
Written Off
Chase Scene
Planning
Unconscious
InfectedIncapacitated
Captured
(Lit)
Off Screen
(Lit)
Fight Scene
Exploring
I was no longer Unscathed, the welt on the back of my head was evidence of that, but at least I wasn't Unconscious either. Instead, only two status lights were lit: "Captured" and "Off screen." I wasn't yet sure what "Off Screen" meant, but I knew what "Captured" meant, and as I came to, I found that I was indeed captured.
I found myself restrained in a metal chair, held down by thick leather straps. The straps were tight, only giving the slightest bit of slack. I had one across each arm and then another across each leg. I wasn't going anywhere.
So much for my use-the-Oblivious-Bystander-trope-to-scout-out-the-bad-guy plan. I give myself an 8 for theory and a 4 for execution, but maybe I'm being too generous.
If only he hadn’t been able to see my eyes…
I didn't even manage to get any information back to my friends. Not that I had a lot of info to begin with. I would have to work on that strategy.
I took in my surroundings.
Directly in front of me was a large machine covered in dials and knobs. It had many moving parts, as well as pressure gauges reading off measurements that I wouldn't have understood even if I could see them up close. I couldn't tell you what this machine actually was, but I could tell you that, based on the turret sticking off the top, it was a weapon.
The aesthetic was something between sci-fi and steam punk. In the distance, I could see a huge computer mainframe that was out of date even for the nineties. There was a workstation with numerous shelves filled with flasks and vials, chemistry equipment, and hand tools.
“Riley?” a voice called out. Someone was in the room with me on the opposite side of the machine.
"Kimberly?" I asked. "Are you here, Kimberly?"
"I didn't know if you had woken up," she said. "I saw him bring you here. I waited for your status to change."
"I’m here. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I asked. "Has he done anything to you?"
She was quiet at first. "No," she said. "But he's crazy. He says he's going to kill us. You have to get me out of here!" I could hear her struggling against her restraints.
“Have you been screaming,” asked. I assumed she had, but I needed to be sure.
Wherever we were, it must have been sound proof. When Kimberly disappeared, we couldn’t hear her anywhere in the castle.
"We both have," she answered.
Both?
I strained my neck around to the other side of the machine and saw that there were two chairs over there. More chairs were spread out around the right side of the machine. They were empty right now. Inside one of the chairs next to Kimberly was Judy. Judy was not doing well; you could see it in her eyes.
"Just hold tight, they're coming for us," I said, but truthfully, I wasn’t so sure. The only hope was if Camden could find something useful inside that book.
I looked around the room. Not all of the room was lit up, there were several corners cloaked in inky darkness, but I could see that there was a bed and some furnishings. Someone had been living down here.
"So what kind of monster is it?" I asked, "Is it a ghost?" I had gotten one glimpse of my assailant and he had been transparent. It didn’t make sense for there to be a bed down here.
Kimberly didn't answer first, "I don't know for sure, he's strange."
How could you not know if you were looking at a transparent apparition, I thought to myself, but I wasn't going to press her on that.
I continued looking around the room. It was large with high ceilings and a floor made of bluish stone. In fact, the floor here was made of the exact same stone that the cellar's floor had been.
The cellar! Of course! It should have seemed weird that a cellar inside a castle was that small. It's a castle, surely the basement is huge, after all, castles have dungeons. This room must have been separated from the rest of the cellar by whoever was living here. This was bad news because the others thought we were upstairs or at least that was the theory when I left.
My eyes lifted to the ceiling as if I were looking up toward my friends.
Then I saw it.
"So that's what the Mirror of Stars is," I said aloud.
"What?" Kimberly asked.
"That up there," I said, "That must be the Mirror of Stars. From the book Camden found."
High above us, apparently growing out of the ceiling, was a large mass of dark glowing crystals. It was difficult to describe what they looked like, but the most apt description would be that they looked like the night sky. They appeared to contain stars. Despite having what appeared to be a mirrored surface, they didn’t reflect the yellow light of the basement. Whatever was inside those crystals appeared to move.
The crystals were supported there by a metal contraption, and they had all kinds of electrodes and pipes sticking out of them that wormed their way down the walls to the computer mainframe. Whoever it was that was living down here had crafted the Mirror of Stars, and whatever its purpose was, it looked like they were trying to use computer technology to perfect it.
But what were they using it for?
The weapon in front of me was connected to the Mirror of Stars by several wires, though I couldn’t say for certain what the purpose of them was.
Then I decided to check the red wallpaper.
Two tropes appeared in my mind. I saw a poster of the weapon, the computer, and the Mirror of Stars.
Indestructible MacGuffin: This plot device cannot be destroyed.
Deus Ex-Terminator: This object kills all targets in one blow regardless of Plot Armor.
So, it was basically the Ark of the Covenant from Indiana Jones.
Noted.
Immediately following that revelation, a man walked into view from another part of the basement that wasn’t visible to me. I recognized him right away. I had seen a painting of him in the showroom. It was Doctor Simon Halle. Here he was in the flesh, well mostly.
His appearance was something that caught me off guard at first. While most of his body was very ordinary - he wore a lab coat and slacks with shining leather shoes - his top half was quite unusual.
His left hand was normal and swung at his side as he walked. But his right arm and his head hung limply like a puppet whose strings had been cut. However, even though his right arm and his head appeared lifeless, they had been replaced. I could only describe it as if his ghost was leaking out of his body. In place of where his right arm would have been was a ghostly arm instead, and instead of a normal head, he had a transparent head.
Even though his real right arm and head hung limply in front of him, their ghostly counterparts took their place seamlessly. I watched him as he moved about his workspace, picking up tools and measuring chemicals. His face was stern and businesslike. Though his body hung limply and his real hair was disheveled, his ghostly hair was well-groomed, his thin mustache perfectly in place.
I had heard of someone having one foot in the grave, but this took that to a whole different level.
"Ah, you're awake," he said. "I was beginning to worry I might have struck you too hard."
I didn't respond, but I did start to wonder how much time I had been out. I looked at the plot cycle and saw that the needle was almost to second blood. Dread consumed me.
"You're probably wondering why I brought you here today," he said. "Together, we're going to embark on a terrific experiment. I have a feeling that you will be the last data points I need to finish my work. The contribution that you are about to make to humankind is immeasurable."
I tried to think of something to say, some retort that might extend my lifespan, but truthfully, fear caught the words in my throat, and I couldn't dream of being clever at a time like this.
"Don't be afraid," he said. "Where you're going is a place we all must go and a place that I believe we can return from."
"Oh shit," I said. It just slipped out.
He didn’t like that. For a moment, the calm, composed scientist ghost was lost and an enraged spirit took his place. But it was only for a moment. He recomposed himself.
"Yes, the youth of today are quite vulgar, it's distasteful, but I suppose I won't judge you too harshly because when you woke up this morning, you did not know your purpose, but now you will.”