PHOENIX: Spooks Read online

  Or perhaps it was because the experience is so unnatural that no one could possibly describe it. The only comments anyone ever made about it was that it gave the term of “seeing one’s life passing before one’s eyes” a terrible new meaning.

  John Morrison experienced a flash of bright purple light. As the light receded, a montage of images and sounds from his memory came flooding in. Against a background of smoke and flames, he saw a teen-age boy on his knees, sobbing and pleading…

  “Please don’t!” he sobbed. “I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt me anymore!”

  A knife flashed across the purple and there was blood everywhere; blood coming from a boy’s throat, and the sound of Morrison’s laughter, louder and louder.

  The face of Lisa filled his mind with an evil grin.

  “Now you’ve done it!” she laughed. “They’re gonna kill you, little brother!”

  Flash! The face of another young man, as he hit the ground blood dripped from his lifeless lips.

  Flash! Another one, and another…Then he heard a voice. It was the Judge at his trial; Frank Hansen.

  “John Morrison,” he began, “It is the sentence of this court that you be taken to the Men’s Correctional Facility at San Quentin to await execution by Lethal Injection at 12:05 AM on October 13th of this year. And may God have mercy on your soul...”

  All through the speech Morrison saw himself behind a naked young man, strangling and sodomizing him. Suddenly another flash raged across his mind and the image changed to his memory of the reporters at his execution leering at him through the glass, the light giving their faces a skull-like appearance.

  He laid on the gurney in the chamber, looked to his right and saw Williams, who laughed out loud as his life ebbed away…

  “I’ll see you in Hell,” he seemed to say, “We are all in Hell....”

  He looked over at the wall in the Execution Chamber. Over the warden’s shoulder it said: “THOU SHALT NOT KILL” in blood. It was running down the walls.

  “I’ll see every stinking one of you again…” he seemed say as all faded into darkness.

  Only one last voice could be heard; his sister Lisa.

  What was she saying?

  “Don’t forget the notes I gave you…Don’t forget the notes…”

  Darkness. Cold and Darkness.

  Chapter Five: The Facts of Death

  “Dr. Holt? Can you understand me?”

  The darkness gave way to a glimmer of light through closed eyelids. The voice spoke again.

  “Dr. Holt?” it said. “Can you hear me now?”

  Morrison opened his eyes to an explosion of light. Through the blue he could see a face above him. As the haze cleared he could make out the details of that face.

  It was Valby, a man whose demeanor seemed more like a taxi driver to Morrison than anything else. He smiled softly at the waking ecto. The room was quiet and peaceful. Cheerful wallpaper made it seem less like a recovery room and more like a hotel suite. Tasteful and expensive pictures adorned the walls.

  “Hello? Are we awake now?” he asked. Morrison lay quietly, groggy and disoriented.

  “This is Hell...we’re all in Hell...” he whispered.

  “What’s that?” Valby asked.

  “My mouth...dry,” he said, “water.”

  “That’s normal,” Valby replied, “The sensation of thirst will pass in a few hours.” Morrison was confused. He tried to get a grip on his mind but couldn’t. Suddenly he remembered and he sat up frightened.

  “I’ve been killed!” he shouted. Valby grasped him gently and laid him back down. Morrison complied weakly.

  “You should get a little rest,” Valby said, “You’ll feel weak for a day or two.”

  “But...who am I...where...?”

  “You’re on the Phoenix Asteroid,” Valby explained, “The infusion was successful! Welcome back!” Morrison tried to speak, but Valby stopped him. “There’ll be time for questions later. You must rest now. It’s normal to be disoriented on the first day after...we’ll talk later.” He rose and turned toward the door.

  “Who are you?” Morrison asked. Valby turned back toward him.

  “Name’s Valby, David Valby. My friends call me Dave,” he replied, “Just push the button if you want anything.”

  Morrison lay back in the bed and closed his eyes.

  Valby moved through the door and into the reception area outside. He stopped at the counter of a Nurse’s Station and pushed some keys on the communications system.

  A silhouetted figure appeared on the screen in front of him. Although his features could not be seen he had a stately, intimidating manner that came through even on a small screen. Valby straightened up as he addressed the dark figure.

  “Yes?” the silhouette asked.

  “It’s Valby sir. Reporting on the status of Dr. Holt as you requested.”

  “The procedure was successful?”

  “Yes, sir,” Valby replied, “He has successfully gone through infusion and is now resting peacefully.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Should I prepare him for a visitor, Dr. Bell?” Valby asked.

  The silhouette put his hand to his chin in thought. “There’s no hurry. He would be so disoriented right now that any visit from me would be a waste of time. He has temporary amnesia?”

  “Yes sir, but he should come out of it by tomorrow,” Valby said, “He looks a lot younger than I expected.” There was a pregnant pause. Valby found it unnerving.

  “Keep me posted on his progress.”

  The screen went blank and Valby took a long breath of relief. Talking to The Man was a strain on the nerves for everyone at Phoenix, or anywhere else for that matter.

  *****

  Twenty four hours later found Morrison a very different man. He was sitting up in bed eating a breakfast he had ordered. There was a knock on the door and Valby stuck his head inside.

  “May I come in?” Morrison nodded his head. Valby strolled in with a few magazines under his arm and a cheerful smile upon his face. “Good morning.” he began, “Well, you’re looking a lot better today!”

  “I feel a lot better,” Morrison replied, “Please sit down. It’s Valby, isn’t it?”

  “Dave will do. I brought you something to read.” Valby set down the magazines and pulled up a chair next to the bed. “Dr. Bell inquired about you.”

  This impressed Morrison and he stopped eating. “Dr. Bell? The Dr. Bell?”

  “The same,” Valby replied, “Our Founder and Benefactor himself.”

  “With so many patients, I’m surprised he would have the time,” Morrison mused, “I should think the inventor of ecto-infusion would be much too busy for somebody like me.”

  Valby smiled and shook his head. “It isn’t every day we get a Nobel Prize winning client like you.”

  Morrison remembered who he was supposed to be and nodded his head in agreement. “So, what’s next?” he asked.

  “Well, there’s your Orientation.” Valby answered.

  “OK, let’s do it.”

  Valby laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Maybe you’d like to wait until you feel up to it.”

  “I’m ready now,” Morrison replied, “I don’t have all the time in the world.”

  Valby smiled again with amusement. “You’ve had a seventy-five year extension added to your time!” he laughed. “That should be enough for anyone.”

  Morrison pushed the tray away with a dissatisfied expression on his face.

  “I was told to expect five-star accommodations,” he said, “The food here is pretty tasteless.”

  Valby smiled softly. “It isn’t the food, sir,” he said, “It’s you. Ecto-Beings have no use for food. Therefore it has no flavor. To be more precise; you can’t taste anything.” Morrison looked at him with a clear expression of disappointment.

  “No food? Ever?” he asked.

  “You cannot digest it, sir. It will go right through you.” Morrison paused to consider this id
ea. Seventy-five years without food or drink did not appeal to him. He looked at Valby sadly.

  “What else is there I need to know?” Valby sighed and shook his head.

  “If you insist,” he began, “You may feel weak now, but you should be yourself in two days. There are certain rules and legal terms that you agreed to as a condition of infusion.”

  “Such as?” Morrison inquired.

  Valby produced a remote control out of his jacket and gestured to the wall facing the bed. Morrison turned toward it as the blank surface became an active viewing screen displaying The Phoenix Logo. It dissolved into a graphic which read:

  “TERMS AND CONDITIONS”

  “Well, of course you can’t get married nor have children.” Valby explained as the image of a family appeared on the screen. “You also won’t be able to buy real estate or take a new job.”

  Each time he spoke the image changed to something relevant to what he was saying. “And, of course, you can’t kill anything or cause harm to come to anyone.” The image on the screen was a picture of a fly.

  “I can’t kill anything?” Morrison asked. “Not even a mosquito?”

  “That’s the deal,” Valby replied, “It sounds weird, but killing is a privilege that’s exclusively reserved for the Living! Nothing can harm you anyway, you’re an ecto now. You can’t be injured!” Morrison’s eyes widened with surprise.

  “I can’t be injured at all?” he asked.

  “You’re practically indestructible!” Valby replied.

  Morrison picked up the steak knife from the tray and considered it. Then he cut deeply into his right arm with it. Valby gasped with surprise at this action.

  The cut did not bleed and Morrison felt no pain at all. Blue ectoplasm oozed out of the wound for a few seconds, and it closed up without a trace of injury. Morrison beamed with excitement and raised the knife to do it again, but Valby stopped him.

  “I said: almost indestructible,” he warned, “Trauma has a price! You saw the ectoplasm in the wound. Injuries cost you that. The more you use, the sooner you bring on remission.” Morrison set down the knife.

  “I didn’t know that...” he said.

  Valby smiled again. “Have you checked your pulse yet?” Morrison placed his hand over his heart for a moment. He gasped in surprise, he felt nothing.

  “There’s no heartbeat! Why am I still breathing then?” he asked.

  “It’s just a habit,” Valby replied, “You’ll probably stop in time. Most ectos do.”

  “What about remission?” Morrison asked. Valby changed the screen to a remission table for Ecto-Extension rates.

  “You’re an extended-term ecto,” he began, “The longer the term, the more frequent the remission period. In your case, about once a year after you stabilize. Most of the time you’ll feel completely normal, just as you do now. Then, during remission, you’ll go through three progressive stages.

  “In Phase 1, the ecto-component will manifest itself as a slimy ooze. You’ll probably want to avoid being seen during that phase. The next phase is Crossover, or Phase 2. During that stage you’ll tend to become vaporous. You’ll be semi-transparent, but you’ll retain a limited physical ability to manipulate objects, pass through solid matter, or become invisible. Basically, a ghost.”

  The image changed to a man who was completely vapor. He emerged into view by passing through a wall. “And the third stage?” Morrison asked.

  “Full remission,” Valby replied, “No physical being at all, total invisibility to living persons. No ability to affect solid objects at all.”

  “A Spook!” Morrison exclaimed. Valby nodded his head.

  “You’ll retain your consciousness,” he explained, “But…you are deceased. In Full Remission, ectos can actually see the Light.”

  This peaked Morrison’s interest.

  “Tell me about the Light!” he demanded, he was now very excited. Valby switched off the display and sat back in his chair.

  “I can’t,” he explained, “Only the dead and ectos get to experience it, and the ectos never discuss it with the Living. That’s for the Advanced Orientation, which I cannot help you with!”

  Morrison leaned forward in surprise. “You mean, you’re not...”

  “Dead?” Valby injected. “No, Federal Law prevents Phoenix from hiring ectos!”

  A sadistic smile registered on Morrison’s face.

  “That’s all I need to know!” he snapped.

  Morrison jumped out of the bed and grabbed Valby’s throat with both hands. Valby tried to pull free but could not, caught completely by surprise. He pulled with all his strength to get free, jerking Morrison back toward the bed and knocking the food tray to the floor.

  Morrison breathed hard with a pleasure that was almost sexual as he strangled the life out of Valby. It was just like the old killings of the past that he found so much enjoyment in. Maybe he could no longer eat, but this was one pleasure he could still enjoy!

  Valby’s coloring went from deep red to pale white as his body went limp. His eyes rolled back in his head as he coughed his last breath. Morrison chuckled softly to himself as he released the lifeless body and let it fall to the floor. He glanced at the door quickly and ran to the closet, pulling out a suit of clothes and tossing them on to the bed.

  Before he started to undress, he reached into the back of his pajamas, groping with his finger into his rectum for the vial. The vial he had placed there according to plan, just before they led him to the Execution Chamber. Lisa assured him that it would still be there, she was always right about everything! His sweet beautiful sister had made it all possible. He reached in deeper, and squeezed with his sphincter to force it out.

  It was there.

  Pulling it out of his pajamas, he threw it on the bed and then he moved to the body, snatching Valby’s name tag and tossing it on the pile of clothes. She had brought him back to life with her genius for computers. Now, with her instructions in the vial, he could escape from Phoenix.

  *****

  The corridor to the shuttle was a flurry of activity as the outgoing ship was preparing to return to Earth. Morrison walked down the hallway fully dressed and wearing Valby’s name tag. He moved slowly and put on a completely casual air; as if he belonged there. The workers paid no attention to him at all. He looked up at the information panel overhead. It said that the next shuttle flight to Earth was in three hours. He smiled and moved into the bay.

  It was also very busy.

  In the center of the giant space, cargo rolled into the shuttle door. Morrison looked around. Nobody noticed him as he moved toward the ship. A worker shouted out at him when he drew near.

  “Hey you!”

  Morrison froze and looked toward the voice. The worker approached him holding a hard hat. He tossed it at Morrison, who caught it with one hand.

  “Get your hard hat on before I have you reported!”

  Morrison nodded and put the hat on.

  He continued toward the shuttle. Reaching the gang-plank he looked around again, deciding to go for it. As he began to move up the ramp, Knott noticed him and ran over to find out what he was doing there.

  “Just a minute!” he ordered. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Health inspection,” Morrison replied, “Didn’t you get the order?”

  “No, I didn’t,” Knott replied suspiciously, “You got a pass for this area?”

  “Of course.” Morrison replied calmly and moved back toward Knott. He pretended to search his pockets. Knott eyed him closely and noticed the identity badge with the picture of Valby.

  “What the hell is this?” he roared. “That isn’t your badge...”

  Morrison quickly threw a hard right hook at Knott, knocking him back. He turned and scurried up the ramp, but Knott recovered and followed him. He grabbed the intruder by the arm and jerked him violently around. Morrison threw another punch at Knott’s face, following it up with a hard kick to his chest. Knott fell back down the ramp and land
ed on the deck.

  The fight attracted attention among the other workers in the bay, who rushed over to help. Morrison ran back up the ramp and quickly activated the door control. It closed behind him with a metal slam. He ran forward to the cockpit and sat in the pilot seat, quickly withdrawing Lisa’s instructions from the vial. Following the control sequence from the instructions, he activated the shuttle engines and prepared for takeoff.

  The engines came to life with a low whoosh. The shuttle began to emit a warning siren as the cargo door to the shuttle closed, crushing the boxes that were moving into it, and sending the loading ramp to the deck. Morrison pressed the next sequence of controls and the great door to the tunnel began to open. This set off emergency sirens, the loading crew ran away from the shuttle as it began to take off.

  The bay filled with the sounds of alarms as people scurried out of it in a desperate effort to get into pressurized safety zones.

  The shuttle lifted into the air and moved on to the trundle. The great door closed behind it automatically. While Morrison activated the automatic decompress and launch controls, he input the code that deactivated the security overrides. Alarms went off throughout the entire Phoenix complex with a pre-recorded message:

  “Warning! Unauthorized shuttle

  launch detected. Security units

  to Shuttle Bay One immediately!”

  The trundle began to move down the long tunnel as the gauges in front of him conveyed messages he did not understand. He then input the special code that his sister had indicated for this point. Lisa’s voice filled the cockpit.

  “Well done, Little Brother,” she began, “If you’ve made it this far you’re as good as home! Here’s a little something I picked out just for you.”

  A song began to play. It was a very old rocker from the twentieth century by a singer named Seger called: “You’re Still the Same”. As he listened to the lyrics, he began to realize why she sent it to him. As a final insult, she had programmed the song to play though the Phoenix intercoms as well.