MirrorWorld

“We were close,” he says and turns to me. “As were you and I.”


He’s nearly being honest now. Perhaps the subject of Maya is simply too painful for him? Despite knowing he’s my father-in-law, I have a hard time picturing the two of us kicking back with a couple of beers or playing a game of Cranium—Shotgun Jones’s favorite. “If you can’t see them, how do you know they’re still there? Or that they aren’t simply unconscious? Or biding their time?”

“Sensors,” he says. “We’ve learned how to detect their presence.”

“Bioelectromagnetic fields?” I guess.

He squints at me. “Allenby has told you a lot.”

You have no idea, I think, and say, “But how did you kill them?”

He twists his lips for a moment. “The foyer you passed through at the main entrance. Did you notice the delay?”

I nod. The second set of doors took a few seconds to open.

“You were being scanned. Had your bioelectromagnetic field registered as Dread, you’d have been bombarded with microwaves. The roof elevator is the same.”

“Microwaves?”

“Various types of radiation and electricity have the same effect on them as they do on us. Unlike most elements, some forces exist in all frequencies, to some extent or another.”

“And if there had been a Dread inside with me?”

“Alone, the beast would be killed. If a human presence is detected, the first set of doors would have opened again, allowing you and the Dread to leave.”

“And each of these walked into your trap?”

“Slow learners,” he says, but he’s still not being fully honest. Many of the dead Dread have wounds that being cooked from the inside out doesn’t explain. I let it slide, though.

“They follow people, you know. Torment them.” His voice takes on a dark tone. “I know that fear is lost on you, but for the rest of us it can be a nearly insurmountable force. The Dread seep into people’s lives, pushing fear, breaking minds. And they don’t discriminate. Men, women, children. Everywhere in the world. People try to ignore them mostly, and often succeed, blaming their presence on the wind, a settling house, coincidence, imagination, nerves. Or we create stories, myths, about fairies, aliens, ghosts, and other things that, while frightening, are easy to write off. We have hundreds of defense mechanisms that keep us from acknowledging the Dread are real and present. And who can blame us. Life is easier for those most able to ignore the truth. But for those who acknowledge the darkness and who refuse to cower to it, they become targets, trying to stand but being stepped on, pushed down again and again.”

He’s seething, talking about himself now. The trials of his youth. The passion that drives him. More private information set free by Allenby’s loose lips.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, then motions to the collection of Dread. “Most of this bunch came in following employees. After a few months, they stopped trying. Neuro Inc. is currently the only place on Earth you can be truly free of their presence.” He frowns at me. “Until you exposed a chink in our armor. We’re lucky it was just the bull. He was hard to miss.”

“What was it doing?”

“Based on the data from sensors around the building, we think it was just excited to be inside, like an overactive dog. It was running about because it could.”

I’m not so sure that’s true, but the time to open that can of worms hasn’t come. “Then you don’t think they’re smart?”

“Oh, they’re intelligent. There’s no doubt about that, but they’re also instinctual, reacting on primal urges, to intimidate, bully, and dominate their rivals.”

“Humanity,” I say.

He nods and starts toward the laboratory doors at the back of the Documentum room. “It’s more complicated than that, but there is more evidence than you’d expect. We’ve gathered a database of statistical and anecdotal evidence. But it’s the testimonial evidence that’s most intriguing.”

“You’ve talked to survivors?” I ask.

“Some,” he says. “But most are like Maya, locked in a permanent state of catatonic terror. Much of our testimonial evidence came from you, before the…” He points at his head. “I should have never let you do it.”

I’m not at all interested in hearing more about that past decision. “What kind of evidence? Had I seen them?”

“Most of the physical descriptions we have came from you. The Dread kept trying to frighten you, but couldn’t. The more they failed, the more persistent they became, revealing themselves to you nearly completely while attempting to send their fear into your fearless mind. In all the years I’ve studied the mirror world, you were the first person to corroborate what I believed was there and was observing mathematically and electronically.” He stops by the lab doors. Swipes his key card. The light flashes green. “Not that you’re the only person to have seen the Dread. Ever heard of the Mothman?” He pulls open the door.