Dark Season: The Complete Third Series (All 8 books) (54 page)

With that, his image fades from before me. Left alone on the rocky ground, I notice for the first time a distant sound. Somewhere below, there are voices screaming in the dark. Benjamin's vile experiments, which I was never able to stop, are coming to fruition. Trying to summon up enough strength to go and help Abigail, I strain to stand, but the effort is too much and I collapse back onto the ground. When she needs me the most, I'm too weak to help her.

Abigail

"You have no idea how much work went into this place," Benjamin says, standing proudly next to me as we survey the vast rows of small glass jars that line the walls of this huge room. "You can't even begin to imagine how many experiments I undertook, only to fail and have to start again. There were times when I thought I'd never be able to achieve my objective, but I kept pushing on regardless. Finally, when I realized you were due to be born, I understood that you could provide the final missing ingredient to make this whole endeavor a success. The moment has arrived, and the balance of power across the entire planet is going to change".

All around us, there are rows of glass jars attached to the walls. Many thousands of jars, each barely any bigger than a soda can, but each filled with a murky yellow liquid in which - suspended - there is a small creature. It's hard to tell exactly
what
the creatures are supposed to be, but on closer inspection I realize that they're small embryo-like beings that seem to be growing
around
some kind of wire mesh. Peering more closely into one of the jars, to get a better look at one of the creatures, I'm shocked to see it slowly start to move, turning its face toward me and staring directly at me with two large black eyes. Whatever it is, it's definitely alive, but it's like nothing I've ever seen before.

"Are you proud?" Benjamin asks, reaching out and tapping the jar gently. The creature reacts again, turning to look at him. "There are more than three thousand of these creations growing down here, created using a new technique I call DNA Stamping. I take a random piece of organic matter and stamp it with a new DNA map, and then I grow the resulting creatures on a dot-cell digital matrix. They might look weak and insubstantial at the moment, but I promise you that within a few months they will all have grown to become full-sized replicas of their DNA originator. A whole army, grown in jars and programmed with the most amazing abilities. A whole army of you, Abigail".

Staring at the little creature in the jar, I'm filled with dread as I realize what he means. These are clones, growing slowly but destined to eventually take their place in the world. Suddenly, everything Benjamin has been talking about since I first met him is starting to become clear, and I understand whose DNA has been used to create each and every one of these 'things'. It's mine. Thousands and thousands of clones of my body, and my mind.

"It's ironic," Benjamin continues. "You must have felt so alone in the world. Abandoned by your mother and father, left separated from the world, and suddenly you find you have the largest family that has ever existed. Each of them is genetically identical to you, Abigail. They'll grow up to be your brothers and sisters, all of them exactly like you and all of them, I promise, able to understand you. You'll never have to feel alone again".

Looking more closely, I see that there are wires running out of the creatures' bodies. "What are you doing to them?" I ask, noticing that the creatures seem to be twitching a little.

"Over the past few days, I've been training you to withstand pain," Benjamin explains. "Your brothers and sisters, however, will have the benefit of being trained from the moment of creation. Pain won't be an outside force that afflicts their bodies. Pain will be a part of their genetic make-up. Eventually it'll be absorbed into their consciousness, and they won't even notice it".

"You're hurting them?" I ask, as the creature in front of me looks straight in my direction. "How much pain are they in?"

"Some of them die," he says, "but that's acceptable. A certain percentage of every batch will always be substandard. Currently, the rate is around five per cent, but I'm hoping to reduce that number in order to minimize waste".

Taking a step back, I turn and look around the room. It's hard to get my head around what I'm seeing: thousands of tiny clones of myself, growing slowly in jars while wires deliver unimaginable pain directly into their developing nervous systems. For most creatures, pain is something to be avoided; for these things, pain is going to be an integral part of their bodies. They're going to grow up knowing nothing
but
pain, and inevitably this will mean that they see the world differently. I can't imagine what it must be like to feel agony from your first moment, and to face a lifetime without respite. I trust Benjamin implicitly, and I would never dare to doubt him, but something about this whole arrangement feels very wrong.

"It's a lot to take in," he says. "Don't worry, you have four or five months before the first prototypes are ready to be tested. I've grown a few previous specimens to full size, but that was back when I lacked your DNA. They were weak and hard to maintain. The other problem was that I was working with primitive tools. Back before I joined the Watchers, I conducted my own experiments in my home down in Louisiana. I worked so hard, but only one of the creatures ever grew to become a sustainable being, and even that was a pitiful failure. Now, though, I feel as if we're on the verge of a great advance. Imagine what we can do with an army of vampires".

"What?" I say, turning to him. "What
can
we do? What do you
want
to do?"

"We can establish a new order," he says, smiling. "We can help the world. Humans will still have a place, but they'll undoubtedly become subordinate to our creations. It's only natural that the strong will prosper while the week will decline. Vampires have always existed in the shadows, hiding their greatness and preventing humanity from knowing the truth about their existence, but it doesn't always have to be that way. Why should such noble creatures skulk around, when they could rule the world? Why should the weak prosper while the strong hide themselves away? It's not natural". He turns to marvel at his own creations. "This is natural. This is how the world should be".

Turning and walking across the room, I try to listen to the faint murmur in the back of my mind. It's as if all the creatures are reaching out to me, trying to make contact. I can't make out what they're saying, and I doubt they're even capable of communicating properly. Nevertheless, it's as if I'm able to sense some part of them.

"Here!" Benjamin says. He's standing by one of the jars, inspecting a creature that appears to be more active than the others. Twisting and writhing in its jar of yellow liquid, the creature seems to be in distress. "This one is unable to cope with the pain," Benjamin continues. "It's a weak specimen. If we allowed it to live, it would be sub-standard. It would pollute the species". Reaching out, he pushes a switch on the front of the jar; seconds later, a dark, inky substance floods into the chamber, and the creature twitches a couple of times before falling still. "I know this might seem harsh, Abigail," Benjamin says, "but it's necessary for the good of the project. I can promise you, however, that every failed specimen causes me a little pain of my own. I've yet to fully understand why some of the creatures are unable to handle their training, but genetic variation is something I wish to wipe out completely over time".

Staring at the dead creature in its jar, I feel an overwhelming sense of pity. The poor little thing lived a short life, tortured by pain that it couldn't possibly understand. While I understand what Benjamin is saying about the need to protect the rest of the species from weak specimens, I can't help thinking that there might have been a place for this particular creature to somehow survive. Surely there's
some
room for the weak to still live, even if they can't take on the same role as the others? Just because they can't be in the army, they might be able to make some other contribution.

"Don't get sentimental, Abigail," Benjamin says. "If you pause to consider every loss, every failure, you'll quickly become overwhelmed. These are your brothers and sisters, but at this early stage they're barely aware of anything other than the specific sensations we choose to deliver".

"Like pain," I reply, staring at another of the creatures. As I watch, it seems to turn and look at the jar of its dead neighbor.

"How interesting," Benjamin says, leaning closer. "This one seems to have noticed that I killed its brother. Perhaps it feels pity". He pauses, before flicking a switch on this second jar; again, an inky black cloud enters the liquid, and moments later the second creature is also dead. "Pity is a weakness for these things. They must not be allowed to develop in such a way. What matters, more than anything, is that they focus on the task at hand". He turns to me. "Don't worry, Abigail. This is just the first wave. We can afford to lose as many as necessary in order to protect the integrity of the swarm". He pauses for a moment. "Don't let your emotions get the better of you. See this through my eyes. See the opportunity we have to change the world".

I nod slowly. While I don't agree with what Benjamin is doing, I know that his intelligence is unparalleled. It would be wrong of me to question his plans; instead, I must watch and learn, and hope that eventually I'm able to see things his way. I must be patient while I wait for my old ideas to fade away.

"Do you want to see the finished article?" Benjamin asks. "There's a single prototype that managed to survive the initial batch, and I think you should meet it. Of course, it's unfinished, and it's unstable, but it'll help you to understand how the project will ultimately work". Taking my hand, he smiles as he leads me across the room. "I can see in your eyes, Abigail, that you're starting to understand my philosophy. I admit that what I'm doing is somewhat controversial, and I'm sure there are plenty of people who would object that I'm being unethical or cruel. But I think you're smarter than that, aren't you? You're starting to see the world through my eyes".

We reach a door, behind which there's a smaller room with another, heavily-fortified door. Benjamin pulls a pass-card from his pocket and swipes it, unlocking the door.

"Meet yourself," he says, stepping aside as I walk into the next room. It's dark, and for a moment I struggle to see anything, but finally I start to make out a shape. Chained to the floor, covered from head to toe in some kind of proto-plasmic residue, there's a creature. It looks human, but I can tell it's not: its mind is already reaching out to mine, trying to find a way to connect with my deepest thoughts; although I reject its attempts, I can feel it furiously trying again and again, seeking to break down my resistance. Slowly, the creature raises its head and looks straight at me. It has dark, soulless eyes, and a mouth full of fangs... and it looks exactly like me.

Patrick

"You're pathetic," says a voice close by.

Turning, I see that I've been visited by another ghost, and this one is far less welcome than the first. Charles Nimrod, the man who did more to harm Abigail's early life than any other, and the man who ultimately tricked Sophie, is smiling at me. He thinks he's won.

"You probably think this is all my fault," he continues. "You probably think that if I'd never taken little Abby when she was a baby, you and Sophie could have raised her properly and she'd be fine". He laughs. "It's not that simple. My aim was always to help the child. If you'd just let me get on with it, she'd have had a much, much better life. Instead, you ripped me apart and prevented me from implementing the final part of my plan. Of course, by that point I didn't really care. Benjamin sent me to make sure that the prophecy was fulfilled. My job was simply to get Abby away from you and make you so angry that you killed the woman you loved". He pauses. "I achieved everything I set out to achieve," he says finally. "I died, but I won".

Without Nimrod's interference, I would have returned Abigail to Sophie when the time was right. The child needed to be at Gothos while she was growing up, but once she reached her teenage years I would have brought her back to this world to spend time with her mother. Instead, Nimrod manipulated all of us and I was unable to control my anger. He was right all those years ago when he called me a monster. Seeing my weakness, Nimrod came up with a plan to use my own qualities against me, and it worked. No wonder he looks so pleased with himself.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment," he says. "Not just me... there are so many who will delight in your death, Patrick, and who will take pleasure from the fact that your precious child will be lost to darkness". He leans closer. "As you die, know that you failed miserably, and that your daughter's long life will be one of pain and misery". Smiling, he slowly vanishes before my eyes, leaving me once again alone.

Abigail

"Talk to her," Benjamin says, standing behind me. "Don't be afraid. Talk to her. Find out what she knows. Learn how she feels. Get to know your first sister. She's just the first of many".

I don't dare move. The creature in front of me is so still and quiet, but I'm sensing enormous power. She's wearing some kind of gray boiler suit, and there are a few wires and pipes running from the base of her spine to a power unit on the wall. It's as if she's waiting for something, but I have no idea what she wants. She's crouched on the ground, but she's looking directly at me and her dark eyes are fixed on me. She's kind of intimidating, as if she's trying to work out my weaknesses.