Hexad: The Chamber (14 page)

Amanda had no answers, neither did Dale, but the more they talked the more they got the idea into their heads that somehow the women in The Chamber were directly involved in keeping everything turning, in making the strange reality they found themselves in continue to function.

It was confusing as hell. What were they involved in and why wouldn't they say?

"Maybe they are just scared. Maybe they are being threatened?" offered Amanda, trying to make excuses for her doppelgängers, clearly thinking she owed them the benefit of the doubt.

"I think it goes deeper than that Amanda, a lot deeper. She was certain that this is a Hexad and she was also certain that all the versions of you in here are the ones that are making Hexads possible. I think that's why they are so evasive of me, and you too. They are totally freaked out that we are going to somehow discover what's going on and stop it, eliminate them all."

"Wait a minute," said Amanda, stopping in her tracks, "are you saying that they are going along with whatever is happening so they can carry on living even though they know it means that whole worlds full of people are disappearing left, right and center because of it?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I am saying." Dale stared at her defiantly, daring her to disagree.

"I suppose you could be right," said Amanda quietly, mulling it over. "After all, that's what we are trying to do, isn't it? Let the real us go home, eliminate countless whole worlds that have sprung up because of the Hexad."

"Exactly. It's the same. Look, I don't blame them, it's human nature isn't it? Especially when you can't really accept multiple worlds as anything but a generality. It's too esoteric, too out there to let you think of it as a concrete reality. It's more like a lesson in abstract thinking than something you can convince yourself is truly happening."

"I suppose you're right. So what does this mean?"

"It means that I think if we aren't very careful then we are going to have hundreds of very angry versions of you coming after us and trying to kill us so we don't mess with their weird lives."

"I wouldn't. I would never do that."

"You would, I would, they definitely would. What, you wouldn't sacrifice one version of you so that you could survive? So that all the other women could too?"

"Well, now that you put it like that," said Amanda grimly.

"There you are then. You already did it, didn't you? A version of you, one that you made disappear and is now in here somewhere I might add, has already been in that terrible production line room you talked about and then jumped into countless timelines and killed countless versions of you. They were you, they were people and you killed them."

"For the greater good!" protested Amanda.

"Yes, I know. I'm just saying there is a lot that people will do when their backs are against the wall and they can't see any alternative. It's just the way it is. I'm not casting blame, that's for sure. All of this has really opened up my eyes to who I am too. It's a scary way to think."

"Let's walk, if we are going to have hordes of angry, but beautiful women," added Amanda, smiling, "after us, then let's do what we have to do and get the hell out of here quick smart."

"I'm working on it." Dale took her arm and linked it through his; she stuffed her hand into his pocket while Dale tried to match her brisk and businesslike pace.

They headed for the domed end of The Chamber, for them a convex dome that became more and more intimidating the closer they got to it — it was certainly more interesting than the blank wall they had encountered at the other end of their hopefully very temporary new home.

~~~

"Well, it's impressive, for sure, but it doesn't really help, does it?" said Amanda, leaning forward, trying to peer more closely at the strange end to the world.

"No," said Dale dejectedly. "Not one bit."

The blue was an almost exact match of the domes of their Hexads, and there was little doubt that this was the light source for The Chamber. What Dale assumed was exactly halfway up the dome there was a tight beam of light that came through a seemingly solid surface, then ran down almost the whole length of the center. He tried to remember if it hit the far end wall but was sure he hadn't noticed it. This was probably how the interior was lit, maybe heated as well, although it was impossible to find out as it was so far above them.

As at the other end, the ground turned from lush greenery to arid, bare earth the closer they got, until all they were faced with was the curve of the dome going meters deeper than they could touch.

Dale knelt and touched it at the base — it was warm, but not unduly so. As he lifted his hand he marveled at the fact that the light shone almost through his hand, like when you hold a torch light up close and your skin becomes translucent.

All of it meant nothing to him. Absolutely nothing.

"Come on, let's go. This is getting us nowhere. Nothing in here is explaining what this is, so it's time to leave."

"Just like that?" asked Amanda dubiously.

"Just like that." Dale looked around the area closest to the dome, noticing quite a large number of Amandas walking up the side of the curving interior toward another unremarkable stone building about halfway up the side. What were they up to? Was it worth a peek, or would it put them in unnecessary danger? Squinting, Dale thought he could just about make out one woman stepping inside at a time, then emerging again a few minutes later. They seemed subdued, nervous, but formed an orderly line, waiting their turn.

"Come, on, let's go check that out." He pointed up what he felt should best be described as a hill, and with Amanda looking rather confused he took her hand and led her toward the building, looking to see if there were any Amandas close to them — the ones that were at the building seemed to be it for now, he couldn't see any others going in the same direction, so they took to the border of one of the many fields and approached as cautiously as they could in such an exposed and convoluted environment.

Dale had a bad feeling about it, a very bad feeling. If he had a Spidey-Sense it would be tingling like mad, he was sure.

Amanda kept glancing at him nervously as they made their way up the steeply curving hillside, land that swept up and over like a tidal wave waiting to crush them. She was furtively looking left then right, clearly worried that they were going to get into serious trouble for going somewhere maybe they weren't supposed to.

Dale knew that she was also feeling that whatever was happening was important, otherwise why look so tense? He also wondered if she was nervous as she knew that the other women would react badly if they were caught, which, in a way, meant she herself knew that she wouldn't take kindly to such snooping.

As they followed the tracks between the sectioned land, keeping low and trying to move beneath the cover of the hedgerows and small copses of trees that were dotted about in a facsimile of naturalness, although not quite pulling it off, Dale realized this was the first time they had walked anywhere they hadn't thought of as the ground. He wasn't surprised to find that it felt just like they were walking on the level below — he could see where they'd been, the land curving down if he looked back, and it was the first time he truly appreciated the fact that there was no right way up, no up and down or main heart to The Chamber: it didn't matter where you stood, up was always up, down was always down.

It was creepy as hell.

"I don't like this Dale, it feels too strange. Look, you can see where we were, it's like we have suction boots or something and are climbing up the sides of a tube like some kind of insect."

"I know, I don't like it either. But look," Dale pointed to the building that was now getting close, "the line has almost gone, only a couple more to go. We should be fine to go take a peek once the last Amanda goes inside."

"If you're sure?"

"Kind of."

"Not very convincing, but okay. Let's just be quiet, and then I really want to get out of here. If you think we can?" Amanda looked hopefully at Dale, face full of misgivings but trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Trust me, okay?"

"Okay Dale."

They waited until the last Amanda had stepped through the door into an interior they couldn't see, and watched as a handful of women walked back down the path they had all walked up, before it split in various directions and they took the route that would lead them to their homes. All the women were subdued, heads down almost as if they were ashamed. There was no conversation, no laughing or even crying. Nothing. Just silence.

Dale noticed that most of them wore loose blouses, some with buttons still undone almost down to the navel, nothing on underneath, others were wearing simple t-shirts. As they made their way down — he had to stop thinking of it as down, there was no down — the various paths he could see that a number of them kept rubbing at their backs, trying to remove an invisible irritation.

He didn't need to see, not now. He knew what was going on, understood what host Amanda had meant when she'd talked about knowing for sure this was a Hexad, that she knew how things ran.

"Dale? Dale, are you okay?"

"We should go, now."

"What? What do you mean? What's going on?"

"You don't want to know, trust me, you really don't."

Amanda stared into his eyes, searching for an answer he didn't want to give. There was a glimmer of understanding, a recognition of the look he was giving her maybe? Or maybe she'd just pieced it all together herself.

"Come on, we're going to take a look," said Amanda, tugging at Dale's arm.

"I don't think we should," said Dale. "It won't help."

"I need to know. I need to see for myself. Are you coming or not?" Amanda let go of his arm, waiting for him to answer. When he said nothing she began striding across open ground toward the cottage.

"Amanda!" whispered Dale.

It was no use, she was resolute, so swearing under his breath and checking they hadn't been seen, Dale ran after her.

He caught up with her right at the front door, a terrible look of shock, incomprehension and disbelief on her face, all mixed up in sadness and despair at what she herself could be driven to if the circumstances were right.

Dale didn't need to look inside the room, but he did anyway.

He really wished he hadn't.

Into the Abyss

Time Unknown

In complete contrast to the rough-hewn exterior, the inside of the cottage was stark, clinical, and bewildering with its white open space taking up the whole interior right up into the rafters.

The floor was perfectly laid white tiles that gleamed, the walls the same, even the joists. All around the room were banks of equipment, huge monolithic things with no clear indication of what they were there to accomplish, blank-faced, and as black as night.

Death sentries.

Strange lights flashed on and off on some of the machines, the only sound a gentle whirring. It paled in comparison to the main attraction though: a huge contraption in the center of the room that reminded Dale of a robotic milking machine he'd seen a few years ago. Actually, hadn't Amanda said that was what the machines reminded them of when she'd been in the room full of Amandas hanging from the ceiling like so much dead meat?

This was worse, surely?

This was voluntary.

The massive machine loomed over the standing figure of an Amanda, it's jointed arms moving effortlessly, enveloping her like a cold and uncaring lover. Naked from the waist up, the Amanda stood inside the contraption with arms hanging limp by her sides, face almost turned away from them but he could see the set of her jaw, the clenched teeth against what she obviously knew was to come.

One part of the huge robotic machine moved again, an arm extending from one side. Dale focused on nothing but mechanical movement and muffled whirring. It turned and a small hatch opened, a tiny single-jointed arm pushing out, holding some kind of vial. The large arm clamped down on the vial with a fast rotation at a joint, then retreated with a slight suction noise like a foot being pulled from mud as the arm pulled back — it would have been a comical sound if the scene wasn't so terrifying.

It now had a large needle at the end of the arm, attached by some kind of rubber locking device to a tube that ran down the length of the arm before trailing like a dead snake into the main part of the machine.

Dale and Amanda watched in horror as the arm twisted, moving slowly closer to the exposed lower spine of the woman in the machine. Suddenly there was a red beam of light, a laser probably, that pinpointed a spot low on the back of the now shaking Amanda that clearly knew what was coming.

With the reading of the woman's vitals obviously recorded, a metal clamp came out of the machine and wrapped tight around her midsection, locking her firmly in place. Dale got the impression that even if she collapsed she would be completely immobile until the machine finished its work.

The needle advanced, slowly puncturing her skin, going deeper and deeper. She let out a loud gasp and her hair shook, almost gently like it was nothing more than a cool breeze playing across her head.

Amanda next to him gasped and the woman, locked tight in the machine, turned her head. Her eyes went wide when she recognized them, clearly expecting it to be one of the women that made The Chamber their home.

She kept on staring, eyes alive with distress, but also defiance, as if she was asking who were they to judge the things she did?

The machine beeped; Dale saw the plunger on the needle pull back. Another beep, this one much deeper in pitch, and then it was over. The needle retracted, a few drops of precious fluid could be seen in the tube, before another liquid from within the robotic arm must have mixed with it, carrying it away.

The clamps came off the woman, the entombment retreated, the machine unfolded then became still, silent. It loomed high above the puny looking woman, and she staggered a little, but as soon as she was certain she was free of the machine, and rapidly buttoning up her blouse she screamed "Help," at the top of her lungs. Dale knew that they had to run.