James Axler – Stoneface

A frayed copy of Time magazine lay open on the floor. She paused long enough to toe it closed. Before the coated stock cover broke into several pieces, she read a date of May 29,1996. For some strange reason, the dirty and crumbling periodical seemed like a precious link to her past. Mildred stepped over it, fighting the impulse to burst into tears of grief.

Uni capered in front of her, its white body shining in the dim light. “This way, this way.”

Mildred followed the creature through what had been a lounge or common room. There were couches, candy and soft-drink vending machines and a television set. The screen was perforated by what looked like bullet holes.

“Do you live here?” she asked.

“Sure,” Uni replied. “For a long time.”

“Alone?”

“Sure, all alone.” Uni sounded troubled. “When the program was terminated, a man in a white coat showed me the way down here. He wanted the program to go on, said it had been stopped pre-premawhat’s the word?”

“Prematurely?”

“Yes. He used to visit me here, examine me, bring me pills to eat. Then he went away one day and never came back.”

“How long ago was that?”

Uni came to a stop, eyes half closing. It twirled a lock of blue-black hair around an index finger. A nervous habit, Mildred thought sadly. Like any other human.

“Don’t know. Long time. He said I needed something for my brain. Said I needed a new one or something. Said he would get it. He left to get it and never came back. I waited a long time, and he never came back.”

Mildred didn’t reply, but she had a broad idea of what Uni was talking about and why the program was terminated. Because of Uni’s inbred gender-bending metabolism, it probably had an exceptionally unstable mixture of hormones, not just testosterone and estrogen, but the ones affecting intelligence, as well, like vasopressin and acetylcholine. Uni’s production of RNA and natural brain chemicals was inefficient, and the scientist had meant to rectify that. Uni had assumed it was to receive a new brain instead of a form of biochemical therapy.

“How do you live down here?” she asked. “Where do you get food and water?”

Tittering, Uni started walking again. “Plenty of food in little sealed packages. Lots of water in the drains.”

They entered another room, this one very long and dimly lit, illuminated inadequately by overhead neon fixtures. It was a workshop, filled with heavy tables, tools, chain vices, band saws and cumbersome drill presses. Mildred’s eyes roved over the objects on one of the tables, and she came to halt.

“Wait,” she called. “I need a minute.”

Uni stopped, staring at her from about ten feet away.

“Stay there,” she instructed.

“Why?”

“Because I have something to take care of, and I don’t need distractions.”

Uni considered her words for a moment, then said reproachfully, “Won’t hurt you.”

“Is that a promise?”

Very seriously, very gravely, Uni made the sign of the cross over its bony chest, then kissed the little finger of its right hand. “Pinky swear.”

Mildred was startled into laughing, but at the same time she wasn’t about to place her trust in the creature, no matter how pathetic and harmless it seemed.

Removing the headset from her coat pocket, she took a pair of needle-nosed pliers from the table and set to splicing the broken wires together. It was an in-close job, with bad lighting, rust-stiff tools and a strained back to contend with.

It required several minutes, several experimental attempts and perseverance. Fortunately Uni kept its promise and didn’t move, allowing her to concentrate.

Finally she heard the hiss of static in the earpiece. Though the circuit was engaged and open, Ryan didn’t respond to her hails. She moistened dry, dust-coated lips and fought both the worry about him and the agony of her bruised back muscles. She turned to Uni. “Lead on.”

They left the workroom and entered a similar, slightly smaller one. Uni led the way toward propped open elevator doors. There was no car. The shaft rose above it. Paralleling the cables and running up one wall into the darkness was a metal ladder. Far above was a faint luminosity.