“”That damn place, the other side, ” Bobby said, quoting Leland
Delacroix.
“It’s wherever Hodgson went in his spacesuit.”
“And wherever he came back from when we saw him.”
“Did Delacroix just go nuts, hallucinate everything, kill his family for
no reason? ”
“No.”
“You think the thing he saw in his daughter’s throat, in her eye that was
real? ”
“Totally.”
“Me too. Things we saw in Hodgson’s suit … could that be what the
fluttering is about? ”
“Maybe that. Maybe something worse.”
“Worse, ” I said, trying not to imagine it.
“I got the feeling wherever the other side is, it’s a real zoo over
there.” We returned to the dining room. Bobby to the stool. Me to the
chair by the composition table. After a moment of reluctance, I started
the tape.
By the time Delacroix had begun to record again, his demeanor had
changed. He wasn’t as emotional as he had been. His voice broke now and
then, and he needed to pause to collect himself from time to time, but
for the most part, he was striving to soldier through what needed to be
said.
“In the garage I keep gardening supplies, including a gallon of
Spectracide. Bug killer. I got the can and emptied it on the three
bodies. I don’t know if that makes sense. Nothing was … moving in
them. In the bodies, I mean. Besides, these aren’t insects.
Not like we think of insects. We don’t even know what they are.
Nobody knows.
Lots of big theories. Maybe they’re something … metaphysical.
Do you think? I siphoned some gasoline out of the car. I have a couple
gallons here in another can. I’ll use the gasoline to start the fire
before ..
. before I finish myself. I’m not going to leave the four of us for
overeducated janitors at Project Control. They’ll just do something
stupid. Like bag us and do autopsies. And spread this damn thing I’ll
call the Control number after I go down to the corner and mail this tape
to you, before I set the fire and … kill myself I’m all quiet inside
right now. Very quiet inside. For now. How long?
I want to believe that” Delacroix halted in mid-sentence, held his
breath as though he were listening for something, and then shut off the
recorder.
I stopped the tape. “He didn’t mail the cassette to anyone.”
“Changed his mind. What does he mean something metaphysical? ”
“That was my next question, ” I said.
When Delacroix returned to the recorder, his voice was heavier, slower,
leaden, as though he had fallen past fear, dropped below grief, and was
speaking from a pit of despair.
“Thought I heard something in one of the bedrooms. Imagination.
The bodies are … where I left them. Very still. Very still.
Just my imagination. And now I realize you don’t even know what this is
about.
I started this all wrong There’s so much to tell you, if you’re going to
be able to blow this wide open, but there’s so little time. Okay.
What you’ve got to know, the bones of it, is that there was a secret
project at Fort Wyvern. The code name was Mystery Train. Because they
thought they were making a magical mystery tour. Morons.
Megalomaniacs.
Me among them. Nightmare Train would have been a better name for it.
Hellbound Train that would’ve been better yet. And me happy to climb on
board with the rest of em. I don’t deserve any praise, big brother.
Not me.
So ..
. here are the key personnel. Not everyone. Just the ones I knew, or as
many as I remember right now. Several are dead. Many are alive.
Maybe one of the living will talt one of the upper-her bastards who
would know a lot more than I do. They all must be scared, and some of
them must have guilty consciences. You’re good at finding the
whistle-blowers.” Delacroix proceeded to list over thirty people,
identifying each man or woman as either a civilian scientist or a
military officer, Dr. Randolph Josephson, Dr. Sarabjit Sanathra, Dr.
Miles Bennell, General Deke Kettleman … My mother was not among them.