Charlie Foxtrot groaned. “Sorry I asked.”
Michael stared at his hands. “So… is this the Neuroverse? Is that why I can do things here? Why I have these… abilities?”
“Aberrations are the fallout from the Neuroverse. There’s really no explaining what happens here. Everything is completely corrupted, creating glitches that spawn all sorts of inexplicable reactions.”
“Fallout? Like from nuclear contamination?”
“Similar to a point. The bottom line is this: not everyone was content to exist in such a state. A rebellious faction within the Neuroverse manipulated its energy to create a wormhole that bridged the future with the past. The energy signature was detected in this time period from the Bermuda Triangle. An investigative team was launched, headed by an aerospace engineer named Albert Rosen.”
“Dr. Rosen.” Blackwell’s eyes widened. “The Gorgon mission. We sent that team into the Triangle months ago when this aberrant signal first registered. They never came back.”
“That’s right. The Gorgon was destroyed by the energy anomaly, but the explosive backlash caused the wormhole to become unstable, pulling everything nearby into its maw, including the station housing the Neuroverse. Humanity of the future is threatened with mass extinction as the entire network that supports the Neuroverse deteriorates.”
Michael tilted his head. “You make it sound as if it’s happening right now.”
“It is happening right now. When past and present are connected, time itself becomes irrelevant. Right now billions of minds are being shredded like tissue paper, their synapses firing without restriction, their atomic energy expelled in a massive eruption. A psionic supernova. The hubris from that detonation is funneled through the wormhole and flung across time and space. That neural debris, those fragments of the Neuroverse are always pulled to the same place. The place of their origin, the only place in the universe where the human mind originated.”
“Earth.”
“Yes. Earth. The fragments find their way here, flung from the wormhole across various points of time. Unable to differentiate the boundaries of reality versus the Neuroverse, they react like hermit crabs seeking a new shell to inhabit. The unnatural effects of those attempts result in Aberrations. Because the subconscious is the most potent energy, it is expelled first. Unfortunately, we trap the darker parts of ourselves in our subconscious. That’s why the Aberration spawns nightmares. Which brings us to where we are now.”
“Trapped in some fragment of a dying universe.” Michael felt as if razor-edged claws lightly stroked the back of his neck. He shivered. “This is what humanity comes down to. Nightmares spawned from our own future consciousness trying to slaughter us.”
Guy’s eyes glazed as he stared into a dimension none of them could witness. “Are you so surprised, Michael? What we can’t face, we hide. Bury it deep down inside where it ferments, feeding on our secrets and shames. Aberrations are simply doorways that expel the mental defecation of a civilization that ignores their darker nature. The underbelly of an entire species, conscious delirium returning to eat its children raw. Like the snake that devours itself by swallowing its own tail, humanity is now doomed to an inescapable loop of self-annihilation.”
Lightning forked across the damaged sky. The clearing was hushed, eerily silent in the shadow of the onyx tower that dominated it. Michael felt drained. He glanced at the others, saw the stunned expressions. It was too much to take in. Too terrible to imagine.
Charlie Foxtrot stared at Guy. “If that’s the truth, why are you here? If you knew it was the Gorgon mission that caused the collapse, why didn’t you just pop up before it happened and stop it?”
A bitter smile curved Guy’s lips. “I can’t. It already happened.”
“What?”
“If I stopped that incident from happening, another would take its place. Dozens more. Hundreds. And on and on. It’s the nature of paradoxes. A bit much to explain right now. The bottom line is that we’re at the point of no return. We either stop this now, or it won’t be stopped at all.”
“Well,” a dry voice drifted from the mists. “Guess we’d better quit standing around and get to work.”
Sid Damon emerged from the fog. Plastered with filth and blood, he looked downright nightmarish when he folded his arms and sneered at the group. “Looks like we’re taking time for a little group therapy. Do I have to tell you how stupid that is considering where we are?”
Michael squinted at the murky backdrop behind Damon. “Where’s the rest of the squad? Nathan, Elena? Ariki?”
“Dead, probably.” Damon spat to the side and scrubbed a grimy hand across his mouth. “Lurch definitely is. Saw Hayes on the riverbank with a giant leech eating his face. The rest of them… probably didn’t make it.”
“Probably? You didn’t even check to see?”
Damon’s face wrinkled into a grin. “Survival of the fittest, boy. Can’t afford to be slowed down by civilian consultants and fobgoblins. You want to check on them, you’re welcome to head out there and see if one of their corpses will hand you your heart for your trouble. Me, I’m heading indoors. Figure some of you might want to come along.”
Blackwell’s head jerked up. “You found a way inside?”
“That’s right. While you all were busy holding hands and learning new things, I scouted around this insane tower. Ran into a few things. Too bad for them. Bottom line is: there’s a door.” Damon’s grin widened, stretching the creases in his face. “Ready to take the fight to them?”
The rumbling sound of an explosion shook the ground. They turned in that direction.
“Sounded nearby. Could be the others,” Michael said.
Guy nodded. “Take Damon and Charlie Foxtrot to check it out. Meet us back here afterward. And don’t take any chances. You know what’s out there.”
Chapter 18: Creophagous Drosera
“Man, I feel pretty good, all things considered. You guys think the worst is over? Maybe we’ll actually find some help in that tower.” Hayes’ smile was wide, his eyes bright. “Stranger things have happened, right?”
Elena exchanged a worried look with Nathan. Both of them were in silent agreement to not speak of Hayes’ face. It was grotesquely swollen, the gauze wrap already rotting away as if the blackened flesh underneath was dissolving it. His arm appeared less injured, but not by much. Dark, wormlike patterns scrawled from the wounds as though the infection sought to burrow into the remaining healthy flesh.
She knew if anything else did attack, they would be hard pressed to offer resistance. All of them were battered, winded, and exhausted. Whatever ordeal Nathan had experienced in the tunnel had left him shell-shocked. His eyes were red-rimmed and haunted, his mouth a grim slash. He refused to talk about it.
They were low on ammo, with only two spare magazines between the three of them. Nathan had abandoned two of the four handguns he had, since the empty ones were worthless. Not that it mattered. They were one attack away from dying in some perverse manner from any number of monstrosities. The only glimmer of hope was getting inside the ebony tower. Considering how the day had gone so far, they would probably make it only to find no entranceway.
They staggered along, supporting one another as they drew closer to the gleaming obelisk. The spire loomed like some alien skyscraper, dark and ominous. Elena didn’t even know why they headed toward it. It was so sinister in appearance that it couldn’t possibly be any kind of safe haven.
Nothing makes any sense anymore. Am I alive? Is any of this even real?