“Either that,” Stake said, “or the authorities are keeping some knowledge to themselves, too.”
“But why the attacks on the prisoners?” Conant asked.
“I’m getting to that,” Zaleski said. “The main thing to understand is the creature… the creatures, rather… are furious to be trapped in our pocket. The first inmate they killed was in solitary confinement. They apparently chose him as an experiment… not to kill him out of rage, but to try to take control of his mind, so they could speak through him to initiate contact. Apparently they believed that since they can effect electrical fields, they might manipulate the electrical impulses of a human brain. Instead, well, they inadvertently discovered that by trying to occupy the same space as a human being, the reaction would cause his body to become displaced in a very messy way. After that, they took possession of one of the robots instead, and in that way successfully communicated in private with our no doubt very surprised Warden Cirvik.”
“How’d they learn to speak English through a robot?” Hurley asked.
“I’m sure they haven’t learned English. A robot they use as a medium is articulating – translating – their thoughts.”
“Remarkable,” Conant said. “Their intelligence is staggering!”
“Frightening,” Ploss corrected.
“Now, I wasn’t privy to whatever discourse Cirvik and this collective had,” Zaleski said, “and he didn’t tell me everything, I’m certain of it. But I do know his main thrust was to placate them.”
“He mustn’t have placated too well,” Stake said, “if prisoners continued to die.”
“Was it still trying to use a human being as a medium?” Conant asked.
Hurley ventured, “Do you think it’s feeding on their souls, or life-force, or something? Their energy?”
Zaleski shook his head. “Cirvik was afraid the colony would grow and become god-like… but what he did, in a way, was to teach it to be a god.”
“How so?” Conant asked.
“By feeding the monster sacrifices.” Zaleski paused a moment for them to digest that. “Their fury is great. You know how frustrated with anger our own prisoners get. They need to lash out at something. That’s why they form opposing gangs, kill and rape each other: as an outlet for their rage. Maybe Cirvik lied and told the collective he’d try to talk to his superiors about freeing them from the pocket. Maybe he promised he’d look into moving the prison to a new pocket and shutting this one down. I don’t know entirely what he said to try to keep them from killing us all; I’m just extrapolating here. What I do know is that Cirvik wanted me to help him understand the nature of the monster, and how we might consider destroying it.”
“Did you have any ideas?” Ploss asked.
“No. And… and to be honest, I was afraid to suggest anything.”
“Afraid?”
“You never know when this thing is watching us,” Zaleski said, lowering his voice to a whisper to emphasize his point. “I was afraid of the monster discovering I meant it any harm.”
“So it was better to just sit back and let it go on killing prisoners, huh?” Stake said.
“Are you bleeding for them, Mr. Stake?” Zaleski retorted.
“You don’t think what’s happening is wrong?”
“Do you think these prisoners haven’t done wrong? Every man who’s been killed by the monster has been a murderer himself. One of those men gunned down a clerk and four innocent customers in a convenience store robbery. There’s your same body count right there!”
“So was Cirvik actually assigning victims to this thing?” Conant asked, incredulous.
“I believe he was.”
“I still don’t understand why!” Ploss said.
Zaleski explained, “The monster’s rage is a volcano that Cirvik was throwing sacrifices into every time it rumbled. Killing alleviates its fury. It must feel… vindicated when it obliterates a victim like that. For a while, at least. But when its level of pain becomes unbearable again, it needs another ‘fix’ of violent expression to vent its emotion. It may be a safety valve; not so much devised by Cirvik to give its rage direction – instead of simply killing us all – but a safety valve the monster has imposed on itself.”
“Because?” Ploss prompted.
“Because maybe it doesn’t really want to kill all of us. Maybe it’s been trying to keep its rage under control as best it could. But now… it seems like that control is fraying. It’s been fired upon, attacked, for the first time. And now with Cirvik dead there’s no telling what will happen. It may no longer be able to restrain itself. It is, after all, apparently a mass of angry individuals trying to hold it together as one rational, intelligent entity. It might very well be greatly conflicted with itself. Like any governing body.”
“Cirvik sent it after me,” Stake said, “didn’t he? He told the thing I was a threat to it somehow.”
Zaleski smiled thinly. “I’m sure he manipulated the poor lost soul with some rationale, Mr. Stake. But I can assure you, I was not a party to that plot. Nor any of it. I was horrified, frankly, by much of what Cirvik confessed to me. But do you think I could have swayed him to act in any other way than he did?”
“He didn’t act at all,” Ploss grumbled. “He just let this situation go on, waiting for it to solve itself. Meanwhile, how long did he think the prisoners’ deaths could continue before he really had to answer for that? And how long did he think he could satisfy this monster with an occasional offering while it waited for what it really wanted? And now, here we are paying the consequences… wondering if this thing is going to shut down our life support or not!”
“We need to find a way to kill this thing!” Hurley said. “Maybe I did hurt it when I shot it. We should set a trap, or some kind of ambush.”
“And if we take a stab at that and fail? We’ll sign our death warrant for sure,” Stake said. “I say if Cirvik could talk to it, so can we. I think we need to try to reason with the thing.”
THIRTEEN: VISITATION
Klaus, the chief of maintenance, contacted Assistant Warden Conant on his wrist comp when he couldn’t get through to Warden Cirvik. After being apprised of the warden’s death, the maintenance chief said, “Oh my God. Well, sir, I wanted to tell the warden that I still can’t bring up the power to full. Ironically, there are firewalls up that were installed as an antiterrorist safeguard, so an enemy couldn’t gain access to our power systems. They’re seeing me as the enemy, so I haven’t got around those firewalls yet. But anyway, on my monitors I noticed some funny activity going on in the chapel. I sent a tech down there to look into it in person and… well, he said some scary stuff is going on in there.”
“What scary stuff?” Conant asked, peering down at his wrist comp’s tiny screen.
“Jesus was talking to him.”
Conant looked up at the others gathered close, and Ploss said, “I’m going there to have a look myself.”
“Let me come with you,” Stake said.
“Why? You should be back in your cell, I think.”
“I’m trying to help you out here, isn’t that plain? I saved your man Flaquita’s life, didn’t I? If this thing is a collective working together, then we need to do the same.”
“What’s in it for you, dick? No one’s paying your fee.”