One at Centre of the Spiral Maze
I’m okay now. I’m in control.
I’m okay now. I’m in control.
He was stumbling down the corridor, the same two sentences playing in his mind over and over again. Although he had taken the analgesic, the insensitiveness to pain hardly fooled his body into thinking it was alright. He needed food, water, and rest.
Unfortunately the corridor he was going down proved to be rather peculiar. It kept on going around and around in a spiral, perfectly confusing his senses. There were no turn-offs; no rooms were connected to it. Its walls, floor and ceiling were all covered by identical white tiles with strange symbols painted every few feet.
This uniformity of surrounding started to disorient him. Presence of those symbols didn’t help at all. Their sequence kept repeating every several metres. He wasn’t sure where up and down was anymore. Sure; his mind knew that ‘down’ was below his feet and ‘up’ above his head, but his feet grew less steady and stomach queasier by the minute. Still, he kept going on and on, refusing to even think about a rest. He would sit down once he reached the end. After all it can’t go on forever, can it?
Can it?
He bit his lip.
Come on. You’re not stupid, are you? This is a triple spiral maze. It’s exactly that kind of symbolic shape that lunatics love. Just keep on going. You’ll reach the end eventually. How many ‘S’s have we passed?
Uh… two? Or three? Or four?
It must’ve been three. Just keep your head clear. We’re fine. We’re in control, aren’t we?
The voice sounded reassuring for a change. Too bad he felt too crap to be happy about it.
He decided to keep his eyes fixed on the floor as it was the best way to keep the nausea at bay, and so, when the end came, he almost banged his head against the wall. First corner in an hour – or a month. The corridor made a sharp turn, mouthing into a rather large room. This one was triangular, as tall as the central nave of a cathedral, and in its centre was a spiral staircase going underground.
“Well then, our guest of honour has finally arrived.”
A voice suddenly whispered into his ear.
He wanted to spin around and punch that man’s ear, but as soon as he thought about it both his arms were wrenched behind his back. Something crept over his wrists and forearms, holding them together. It was cold and mucous, and it felt like there were some coarse bristles jutting out from it.
His mind started to tiptoe away from the world.
“Nuh-uh. Can’t have you get violent. Especially not in the shape you are in. I don’t want to hurt you after all.”
The voice, though being unmistakeably an adult male one, had a strange, artificial quality to it.
“W-what are you?” Katse gasped, trying desperately to stay conscious.
“Me? Why, I am what I am. Right now I am called Aratron. Ophiel already told you so, didn’t she? She always gets things done. So reliable… But back to you. I happen to be very interested in you. You’ll be a worthy addition to the group of our comrades.”
“…ah…fuck you.” He choked out, dissolving into violent cough, his airways blocked by blood from the re-opened wound.
“Well, you’re falling unconscious, so I’ll make this brief. We have been waiting for too long. You shall stay no matter what your present opinion on the subject is. Soon you will understand.”
Words of that man were starting to lose any meaning to Katse, who became too weak to stand on his own two feet. His eyes closed. He was vaguely aware of a pair of strong hands guiding his fall. He wanted to tell their owner to go and screw himself, but while he was in the middle of gathering strength to do so, the whole world just walked away, leaving him in darkness.
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He had a feeling someone was shaking him. He wondered if the voice, which kept desperately trying to rouse him awake, belonged to a girl. When he forced his eyes open, he could only hear a quickly fading echo of footsteps, so it might’ve been a dream.
Or an illusion.
Definitely something that didn’t matter.
What did matter was the fact that the room was unbearably bright.
Grumbling something unkind he rolled over on his stomach. That made him aware of a pressure which wasn’t there before. Slipping his hand under the covers and touching his chest, he found out that he wasn’t a ‘he’ anymore. This realisation finally woke her up and she looked at her other hand. As usual after the Change, it was gaunt and ugly, just like the rest of her body until she found herself a good restaurant where people didn’t ask questions and ate herself through the whole menu to regain her body-mass.
There were two hypodermic needles burrowed in the bulging veins at the back of her hand, secured by tape. Both lead to almost identical bags of clear liquid. She frowned. The very thought of unknown substances entering her body was repulsive. She sat up (with surprising ease, regarding all circumstances), wanting to yank both needles out, when she noticed for the first time she wasn’t alone.
It was that man again. Finally she could see how he looked like, since the entire conversation preceding ‘her’ fainting passed with him being behind ‘her’ back.
He was a plain man. Rather wiry, receding hairline, eyes a bit too big. They shone with unpleasant light.
“Do go ahead. But the longer you keep them in, the better you’ll feel. After all, it’s just lactated Ringer’s solution and some nutrition.”
Narrowing her eyes, she yanked one needle out, and launched herself at the man, aiming for his eye. He merely chuckled and waved his arm. It went through a split-second transformation into a huge tentacle. The limb smashed into Katse’s ribs, sending her flying against the wall. Once she collapsed, gasping for air, momentarily lost in the pain caused by such impact, it pinned her down.
“Sorry for that. You see, you have to be reasonable. Fortunately, since I had time to get myself a little bit acquainted with your anatomy, I know where your limits lie. I promise I won’t push you past them.”
He smiled affably. The tentacle pressed her uncomfortably against the floor. Despite its general shape, it was clear that its original didn’t belong among any cephalopods. As it squeezed her, she could feel hard bone inside of some stomach-turningly soft flesh covered by a slightly damp skin. She dropped the needle and tried to convey as much hate as possible through her eyes, but he was so surreal a person, her mind just couldn’t accept him as a creature capable of understanding hatred.
“Please try not to struggle too much. We’ve already decided to make you a part of our family. You should rejoice. All your past sins will be forgiven. Isn’t it great? No one else would ever present you with a chance like that. If I were a human, I would most likely kill you with my own two hands, given mankind’s sentiments towards you, Ms. Berg Katse.”
“Shut up, you monster.”
She hissed, trying to find the needle so she could at least scratch that sickeningly warm, pulsating limb.
“Ahahaha. You are so funny, Ms. Katse… That’s quite an irony – a person such as yourself calling me a monster.”
“I’m not a monster.”
“Oh, aren’t you? Then what are you? Human? Surely you jest.”
She tried to find something clever to spit in his face, but found herself unable to do so. Instead she felt blood rushing into her cheeks.
“See? Become one of us. If you do, if you join our ranks, you will have a family. Doesn’t that please you? Oh, forgive me. I should’ve said when you do. When you join our ranks. Stressed people hardly ever make correct decisions. So I allowed myself to take responsibility, so you shall be spared any potential regrets. Which I don’t believe you will have. Believe me. It feels good. Feels good to let go. To have the power to do… well, to do virtually anything. So rejoice. And thank our lord Elef-Kehe-Eynayim.”
His right hand, which kept its human shape, pulled a machete from behind his back. Gripping its handle tight, Aratron pressed it against his left armpit and jerked it up. There was no blood. The tentacle-arm thudded to the floor, where it twitched for a moment. Its upper part then freed itself from sleeves of both shirt and coat, and the remaining human likeness melted into the shape of an eyeless snake’s head. It reared up, supporting itself on at least a dozen of tall, spindly legs, and wrapped itself around Katse. More legs sprouted. Katse was pulled up by her wrists and pinned against the wall.
“Good. Very good. Please stay like that for a moment.”
Completely disregarding the stump where his arm used to be, Aratron disappeared for a minute, returning with a small case. He placed it on the gurney where Katse slept until a minute ago, and opened it with a single flick of his finger. White vapour poured out.
“We want to keep this as fresh as possible, don’t we?”
He smiled at Katse again and grabbed a small, opaque bottle from a flat container filled with liquid nitrogen. Barehanded. Putting it carefully down, he shook his hand. Pieces of ice and torn-off skin flew everywhere. New skin regrew immediately as he pulled a walkie-talkie from his pocket and pressed a button.
“Ophiel, please bring me the rest.”
“The rest of what?” Katse asked, although she had an unpleasant feeling she knew.
Just as she thought, Aratron had hardly put the walkie-talkie away when the greying scientist arrived, her arms and fingers wrapped in fresh bandages. She was carrying a small tray with a disinfectant and a syringe.
“Here it is, doctor.” She said, giving Aratron a brilliant smile. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Yes, it is, dear Ophiel. Have you seen Bethor by any chance?” he asked matter-of-factly, and Katse pricked up her ears. How many of them were there?
“Dr. Bethor is tending to Och.”
“I see. And Phaleg?”
“Last time I saw her, she was playing with Phul.”
“Oh, good. I like it when the two of them are having fun. Phul always looks so… lonely. As the source of half of her genes, I feel responsible for her happiness.”
“She will understand with time. Elef-Kehe-Eynayim will open her eyes.”
While having this casual-sounding conversation, Ophiel took the bottle and drew its contents in the syringe, filling the entirety of the barrel. Handing it to Aratron, she took the tray along with the empty bottle and case, and walked away without further ado, whispering to herself over and over ‘what luck, what luck’.
Aratron handed the syringe to his severed limb. No matter how hard she tried, Katse couldn’t free herself enough to kick it away, smash it, and run. The doctor ignored her struggles, uncapped the disinfectant and poured a bit on a cotton swab. Holding it cautiously in his fingers, he walked over to his prey, who glared at him, wishing that Sousai would get her out of that predicament. Even a visit from those idiot bird-brains was preferable. Anything.
“Aren’t you going to beg for your freedom?” he asked joyfully, waving the syringe in front of her eyes.
She drew as much saliva as possible and spat in his face, hitting him right below his eye. His only answer was another amused chuckle. Then his lower eyelid drooped, stretching, twisting, and wiped the cheek, absorbing the spit.
“I knew you would be a great addition. I believe this is what they mean when they say ‘heaven-sent’. It was a good idea after all to turn all the lights on to guide you here.”
He slowly undid the first four buttons of her shirt, stroking each with his thumb. The huge, half-healed wound came to view.
“I would’ve given you some Tramal like the others, but somehow I’ve got a feeling that in your case I ought to make an exception. After all, I myself didn’t get any. So I want to apologise for this. It’s a bit shameful, doing this to a lady, even though you are one just for the time being…”
Something flashed through the air so fast her eyes couldn’t follow. First there was just the sensation of something hard and cold piercing her body. She opened her mouth – to complain, to swear, to scream, she wasn’t sure herself. This feeling lasted hardly a second. Pain followed. She bit her lip. Just as she was about to tell herself that it wasn’t that bad, he pressed hard on the piston, emptying the milky-white contents straight into the wound. Her eyes opened wide, pupils dilating as the world around her shattered into million pieces, each coursing through her nerves like high voltage, setting her skin on fire, grinding her bones into dust. In that moment nothing mattered anymore. There was no Sousai X, no Galactor, no ISO, no Science Ninjas. No Kozaburou Nambu, no Earth, no fate, no past, present, or future. No Berg Katse. Only that searing, all-encompassing agony which went beyond life and death, consciousness and unconsciousness.
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Slowly but surely things started to regain qualities which defined them. Floor was cold; air could be breathed in and out. It was dark all around. That meant that it was either night, or-
…she opened her eyes…
-that she had been out cold.
Again the gurney.
Again those IV drips.
For a moment she entertained the thought that it was all but a dream. Until she heard that voice, that is.
“Well done. You held out marvellously. Good thing you have this extraordinary healing ability. Otherwise you would’ve probably ended up with a cardiac arrest.”
He came into her view. There was a thin flashlight between his left hand’s fingers. He wore a new shirt and a new lab coat.
Light in the room hurt. The ray, which he used to check her pupils, was worse. Her eyes begun to water almost immediately.
“You might have a lot of questions right now but are too tired to ask. So I’ll try to illuminate your situation a little bit. You are still the’ you’ which you were before. It takes some time for your existence to transcend human boundaries; and we’ll need help for that.”
That didn’t sound good. That didn’t sound good at all.
“In order for such transition to happen, your body-mass has to be replaced by the new essence. You can imagine yourself as baby chick needing to break out of its shell. Now let us go and watch something.”
He removed both needles and picked the mutant up. Katse noticed, somewhat detachedly, that ‘her’ breasts were gone.
“I Changed again…” he thought out loud.
“Yes; you have. That’s why there was the intravenous nutrition. You were kept unconscious for two days. Your body was unable to sustain itself anymore and it was still early for the essence to activate. But now… it’s just about time.”
The doctor didn’t walk a long way. Only to the next room, where he set his load in an armchair. Katse was starting to be seriously annoyed about the fact that he couldn’t move a finger.
A screen slid down from the ceiling, showing a white corridor. The one with the exit door. First it was empty, but then a girl appeared, rushing towards the door in a frenetic fashion, looking over her shoulder every few steps. She was older than the one called Phul, but she was still just a kid. A terrified kid.
She threw the door open and Katse’s breath got stuck in his throat.
There was the Science Ninja Team. Four of them.
The girl did a very good job tripping and falling down to be caught by the Swan.
“You’ve got to help us! Please!” the girl shrieked, grasping the white, wing-shaped cloak.
“It’s okay now. Just tell us what’s wrong and we’ll help you.” The Swan tried to soothe her, though without much success. The girl was shaking all over.
“A man came. He’s holding my parents and my little sister hostage. I… I managed to escape, but… but… He killed my big brother!” she cried out, immediately dissolving into sobs.
The ninjas exchanged a determined look.
Two guesses what were they determined to do.
“How did he look like? Can you describe him?” the Eagle helped the girl on her feet, trying to sound kind.
“He… he was wearing a strange purple costume. Mask with pointy ears. Really strange. But there was blood all over, so he had to take it off.”
The reaction was instantaneous. Everyone gasped, knowing they are so close, so very close to get their sworn enemy.
“What did he look like under the mask? Did you see?”
“Y-yes. But only for a second. I had to run away. I was hiding. He had blond hair. Grey eyes. There was a huge bruise on his forehead.”
“Can you show us the way?
“Yes. But we have to hurry. I’m sure he wants to kill mom and dad. Just like… just like…”
“Okay. Lead the way.” The Condor interrupted her.
She nodded and pointed in front of her. The Science Ninjas set off and she followed them, but only after glancing up at the camera. She gave it a small smile and she was gone.
Katse looked at Aratron.
Before that day, he had killed ninety-nine point nine percent of his victims just because it was expected of him. Assassinations. Executions. Things like that. He didn’t actually hold any hard feelings towards those men and women. There was only a very small handful of people whose brains he blew out (or more usually - whose cars he rigged with explosives. It was safer that way.) that he loathed. Unfortunately the ones he despised the most were out of his reach. So far.
In fact, nowadays he didn’t regard people as, well, people. Just objects. Three types of objects.
Some of them were in his way, which made them obstacles to be removed, while the existence of others was beneficial. Temporarily, as always. He had to give them what they wanted so they would stay beneficial for as long as possible. It often reminded him of playing visual novels.
Third type, the masses, was about as intelligent and useful as plankton.
Those three categories had one thing in common. He dealt with them automatically and non-committally, feeling hardly anything aside from mild annoyance, disdain and schadenfreude.
Therefore it was oddly refreshing, to feel the fire of hate, pure and white, flare up within his chest.
Aratron noticed and his serene smile changed into an amused one. He lifted Katse up again and held him close. The blond terrorist could feel the beat of both hearts. Another hand supported his neck so Aratron could draw close and whisper into his ear.
“Please break as soon as possible. I can’t wait.”
“Why won’t you do it yourself? Don’t have the balls for that?”
“Well, if I felt like that, I could be literally made out of testicles… but now seriously. There is proper decorum for that. I don’t want to rush things. The longer the wait, the sweeter the satisfaction. That’s why I picked someone so skilled at cowardly running away.”
Katse saw red. He didn’t even need a gun or a knife. Had he been able to move as he pleased, he would’ve clawed that man’s throat out. Not only he incapacitated him, injected him with some alien slime, made a fool out of him, and set the Science Ninjas on his trail, now he was mocking him as well.
Unforgivable.
But there was still one thing.
“That stupid little messenger of yours got it wrong. I don’t have a bruise. She got it wrong.” Katse said, a gleeful grin spreading on his lips.
“No. She got it right.” Aratron answered simply, grasped the delicate white neck a little bit tighter and bashed the golden-haired head against the closest wall.
Even after becoming a monster, he wasn’t one to treat people ruthlessly. He set the unconscious mutant back in the armchair, wiping the trickle of blood with his fingers and cleaning them with his tongue.
A part of him, that part which analysed and understood, reported: New DNA. After the Hailing Ritual that part was supposed to make up his whole being. And yet, as he left the room, he couldn’t stop himself from whistling Ticket to Ride from Beatles. That cheerful and carefree song flew through lifeless corridors like the first spring’s swallow before it ultimately faded away, leaving only a vapid silence.
Author's Chapter Notes:
All Science Ninja Team characters yada yada yada Tatsunoko Production.
Chapter End Notes:
Enter the Science Ninja Team. Yay.