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Fear Is The Mind Killer
I'd been working as a surface dynamics technician at the White Savannah research complex for three weeks when Doctor Lazlow accosted me in the corridor. I was carrying out an experiment into what the perfect ratio of soapy liquid to linoleum was with my company-provided fluid displacement staff; a long two inch thick rod with a tangle of absorbent tendrils on the end that ensures maximum surface coverage within the accepted tolerances of chaos theory.
"Leland, stop mopping and come here, quickly" he said. I propped my equipment against the wall and mooched over to the doorway he was hanging out of.
"Can you drive, boy?" he asked, and I watched a bead of sweat trip off the end of his nose and fall onto my clean floor.
"Doctor, White Savannah only employs the most capable and studious technicians to..."
"I'll take that as a yes. Listen, we're in trouble here, there's a wet works squad on the way. The oversight investigation into our steering committee's ultimate motivations for conducting our experiments hasn't met with much approval and in the interests of maximum credible deniability they're going to eradicate all our good works here."
I was aghast. I couldn't believe that private contractors would be brought in to clean the floors I spent all day toiling over. My works were a labour of love, done in the purest conviction that without me the lab workers and professors would track dirt and grime into their experimentation rooms. Some KBR flunky would just do whatever he felt he had to in order to get paid his overblown daily rate.
"Oh please Doctor Lazlow, no! I'll do anything, anything!"
"Good man, now, we've got a brief window to get all the custodial staff out. The guards on the gate won't allow any of us research fellows past, but you can drive the laundry van through the service gate and take our precious work to safety."
Eager to keep my job I nodded vigorously to dispel any doubt that I was the right man for the job.
"It’s risky putting all our eggs in one basket, especially considering the nature of our experiments into consensus reality but we're left with no choice."
Doctor Lazlow led me down a corridor, then another and another. He swiped his pass, allowing him access to the research dormitories and was met by Doctor Kier. She had her hands resting on the shoulders of a small boy who clutched a stuffed badger toy.
"Are the others on their way?" Lazlow asked and Kier nodded. We stood silently for a minute and I hummed a little tune. Kier and Lazlow were obviously tense but the boy gave me a smile and I smiled back. Eventually several members of the research staff arrived from different wings of the dorm, each leading a child with them, each child clutched a stuffed animal as if their life depended on it.
"I don't like having them all in one place, you know what they can do when they combine their talents" admonished Kier but Lazlow waved his hand and led the way to the underground parking lot. "Are we really entrusting three decades of work to this simpleton?" she said.
Each of the children had met the others with a nod and a smile; they remained serene and passive, led by the firm grip of their assigned adult. I followed behind, spotting a grimy corner I would have to remember to come back to later.
There was a loud noise and a wall ahead of us exploded inwards, spreading a thick white cloud of plaster dust. I heard Kier scream, as well as shouts and cries from the other research assistants. There were dozens of popping noises and the flicker of laser beams sweeping through the dusty cloud. I rubbed at my eyes as I saw men in black uniforms firing guns over my head from my prone position on the shiny lino floor, now coated in rubble and wet splats of dark red blood.
Dazzled and confused I watched as the four men in black advanced on the children, huddled in a group together, their protective guardians all broken and twisted in lumpy meaty messes around them. The youngest boy stepped forwards to address the assault team.
"We've decided we don't like you. You did bad things."
There was a bright flash, a popping noise and the soldiers vanished from existence to be replaced by torn strips of black material, chunks of black metal and fragments of lumpy spaghetti sauce that oozed down the walls, as if they'd been forced into an invisible blender.
"Come Leland, we must escape or they all died in vain" the boy proffered a hand and I took it once I had stood up, he continued to snuggle his stuffed badger toy and seemed totally unphased by the dead bodies and gore covering the walls. He led me towards the stairwell that would take us to the parking lot below.
"But" I protested quietly, "who will clean up this mess?"
Aug. 7.2007