Piyo 2
“This begins the official record of the interview. I am here to speak to you on the subject of two recent disappearances of staff from this installation, Saul Post and John Wyman. For the purpose of the record, please confirm your name, occupation, and date of birth.”
The old man sitting at the other end of the table adjusted his thin coat. The younger man with pale skin sitting across from him re-read the case file. He idly spun and clicked a pen in his hand. A whirring recorder at the center of the linoleum table kept the two men silent unless they had something meaningful to say. The elder finally cleared his throat.
“Lee Fox, chief of personnel. Three-Twelve, Nineteen-Sixty-Eight.”
Piyo continued to fiddle absentmindedly with his pen as he continued the interview.
“Thank you for your cooperation, sir. Please, describe the proceedings prior to the disappearance of Post and Wyman to the best of your memory.”
Fox cleared his throat.
“Post and Wyman, they disappeared around the same stretch of time as each other. We’d sent them down the ice shafts, down to attend to some research that…”
The old man looked thoughtful for a moment before waving his hand and, with a grin, simply said “actually, don’t worry too much about what they were down there for. Just know, those shafts are deep. We’re not allowed to document them, and they run deep. It takes days to reach the bottom of some of them. Post left ahead of Wyman, about an hour ahead. That’s not procedure but, when you’re down here isolated for long enough… I suppose procedure gets bent. I’ll take responsibility for that. We searched for them, but unfortunately, we never found a trace.”
Fox began tapping his hand next to the tape recorder. Piyo took the hint.
“Are there any other details to note for the record?”
“No, sir.”
“I understand. Thank you for your time.”
Piyo reached over the table and turned the recorder off.
“Alright, Fox. What is this facility for, really?”
The old man laughed.
“They don’t tell you guys much, do they?”
Piyo smiled sarcastically and lifted his files, turned to the side so Fox could see just how thin they were. This elicited even more laughter from him.
“This is a genetic engineering research station, and every one of those ice shafts is a biohazard containment zone. Want to call for backup?”
Piyo clicked the pen hard and held it.
“I’m a detective. I always find what I’m looking for, one way or the other. Don’t worry about me.”
The man leaned back in his chair.
“Why’d you become a detective anyway?”
Piyo shrugged.
“I can’t even remember at this point. Think I got the idea from a friend. Going out and meeting people, getting acquainted, solving cases, I don’t know if that’s me though. I want to impress myself on this world, I want to be in it, change it. I’m not sure how to describe it but something’s gotten into me recently, I need to impress myself on this world, reach out and bend it into how I want it to be. I can hardly help it. I suppose I just need to avoid hurting anyone while I do it.”
The old man laughed with his chest.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I find there’s not enough of me in this world either. I guess we both feel like we need to assert ourselves, right?”
“Agreed.”
They reached out and shook each other’s hands.
“Jeez, you need to get more sun, kid. Your skin’s so pale!”
2 – Awakening
Piyo gazed out from one of the watch towers at the snowy wasteland before him. The setting sun turned the white shell over the earth a pale orange, the hazy clouds of snow being blown around softened the horizon. All he saw though was his reflection in the crystal glass.
He’d been undergoing physical changes, beginning not long after his encounter in the basement of the manor. Gradually paling skin, growing limbal ring, dulling iris, among others. He’d also been experiencing gradual psychological and behavioral changes. He felt a faint but growing energy in his chest. He didn’t know what to make of it.
Piyo unbuttoned his heavy wool coat and removed a rough hand-drawn map with scribbled directions on how to reach the dormitory block his room was situated in. The winding and badly documented corridors could easily make you lose your way, along with the general lack of coherence to the site, haphazardly carved and constructed based on the needs of the moment without a thought given to the needs of the future.
Despite this facility being carved out of ice and stone, it wasn’t too unpleasant to be in, far warmer than the blustering outdoors. Out there, the snow and wind whipped your face, any exposed skin you had, it left your hands red and dry, stinging raw. You heard the roar of the wind over the dead silence of the buried landscape out there. Indoors, you only had the silence augmented by the faint ambience of the machinery that ran this place. Faintly buzzing lights drilled into the glassy ceiling, airflow fans gently spinning. It felt refreshing after years on the gulf coast.
A few walks through long, finger corridors, a few trips through tall atriums branching into several rooms and paths, and a couple treks down steel staircases through shafts into the earth, he found the dorm block he was assigned to. Two sets of rooms stacked on top of each other into an open carved cavern, connected by steel catwalks. It was like someone took two motels and buried them facing each other. Piyo estimated you could fit 60 people in this block.
Piyo entered his room and set his duffel bag down, it was all the luggage he brought. He scanned around the room. It was like a motel room, simple, plain, comfortable enough for the job with a sufficient desk for doing paperwork, or in his case, reviewing case documents. The standard AC in the corner was capable of both warming and cooling the room as needed, it was turned off leaving the room rather chilly but not unpleasant.
He carefully checked the room for bugs, cameras, anything that could compromise his privacy. He quietly changed the magnetic locks on the door and secured the cabinet with a lock of his own before finally feeling reasonably satisfied that there would be no covert tampering with his room. He drew the curtains on the window, turned on the lights, and threw down his documents.
He considered the facts of the case.
This was a classified research station built mostly underground, far out in a vast wasteland of snow. The CIA had never acknowledged its existence, but it was fairly obvious this was a genetic research station once you found out about it. Piyo had been tracking several candidates that could give him a chance to investigate the CIA’s genetic program. This one gave him his shot first.
There was a report of two men disappearing here. This was the opportunity to get in. An investigator had been dispatched from CIA HQ but had been… intercepted by Piyo. Being a detective himself, this provided very convenient cover to infiltrate an installation, especially given…
There would be no external communication, Piyo had made sure of that by sabotaging the network connection to this base. Due to the brutal weather conditions outside this wasn’t very suspicious, the net was just considered to be down for a season, this year that season came early.
There was no easy way to enter or escape the station without special, noticeable, equipment, the vast plain of dead snow formed a secure perimeter. The killer, if there was one, had to be a member of the staff here, or something that they were working on.
Piyo had two goals.
Figure out what was happening to his body. If he could leave this place with full knowledge of why he was mutating and maybe even how to stop it, it wouldn’t matter if he solved this case or not.
Figure out who or what killed these people and why. Investigations take time and being in a small isolated research station with a possible murderer, or at the very least some kind of threat was definitely not ideal. Additionally, if he didn’t turn up any details about the case people could get suspicious. The last thing he wanted was questions. Ideally, he would be able to solve the murder case quickly for his own sake but be able to keep up the appearance of a difficult investigation to buy time.
Piyo felt a faint headache coming on since he interviewed Fox. Deciding it was an effect of heavy travel and the loss of sleep that comes with it, he stowed his documents and called it a night there. He drifted faintly off to sleep…
3 - In the Back of your Mind
Piyo woke up with an intense feeling of guilt, tearing at his chest. He’d dreamt about arguing with someone vulnerable. It had escalated in his dream, he eventually reached out and grabbed the other’s forearm. He grabbed it so fast and hard it was crushed, and he wrenched his arm back and tore the thing off.
He cradled his head in his hands both trying to remember and to forget what he did. He’d been arguing with her… he couldn’t remember why. He couldn’t even really remember who it was he was arguing with. Was it even a girl? The only thing he could really see clearly was what he had said to her, how he’d injured her, and why he did it. And how he felt doing it.
He swung himself out of bed and began getting dressed, the dream gradually fading and leaving behind an uneasy feeling as dreams do, strong enough to make him retreat into his mind as if he were still in a dream and only now aware of it.
A dream is the mind reflecting on itself, rebuilding itself, collating and integrating what it experienced in the day. Piyo knew this well, if you practice something a lot, you start to dream about it and that’s where skill solidifies. He knew nothing had happened, he had simply dreamed, but where could this dream have come from?
He stumbled out his door and only caught it with his foot before remembering to check to be sure he had his key. He sighed with relief. At the very least, he was together enough not to lock himself out.
4 - Investigating
One very fortunate advantage to sabotaging this place’s connection to the net, whatever it was that caught him snooping on the manor’s network wouldn’t catch him as easily here. Piyo’s only real adversary on these machines would be the administrators on the local network, a much easier and more predictable threat than whatever the NSA’a headquarters had running.
Piyo found a machine left behind in an alcove that had once held some kind of experiment that had moved on but left its old work area behind. Very poor practice. He pulled out his notepad.
“shulz, T2rmigan.”
Fox was right, proper procedure really had fallen to the wayside here, this username and password were on a sticky note in the break room. Piyo supposed after a while these guys had come to trust each other and their surroundings enough they didn’t worry about protecting themselves anymore. It was somewhat strange that they remained so open even after two potential murders, however. Maybe they really did think it was just some kind of accident. It was most likely that Shulz had just forgotten the note was there, however embarrassing that would have to be for a CIA or NSA employee to get caught with his account written down in a publicly visible space.
The documents he had found so far were not too useful to him. They’d absolutely be fascinating and a great source of great insight to someone, but that someone was not Piyo. Research reports, information on mutagenic outcomes, coefficients, references to CIA documents and policies, emails written in shorthand. It all meant something…
“Hey, can I help you with anything?”
Piyo’s heart reached his throat, but it was already too late, a worker sporting jeans and long, blonde hair was already reading the computer screen. Was this mission over already? Why would he even have been walking down this aimless corridor in particular?
“Oh, you’re reading about the strains we’re working on here. Need some help understanding?”
Piyo found his voice for a brief moment and went “yeah, I don’t really get it.”
“Alright, I’ll go get Fox for you.”
The worker wandered back the way he came, leaving Piyo alone again in front of the computer. The hell was that?
Sitting obediently, Piyo had no idea what to do besides waiting for Fox to come and help him, apparently. Was this a trap?
Finally, the director of personnel appeared before him once again.
“I heard you needed some help reading our research!”
“Uh, yeah.”
Piyo moved over as Fox pulled up a chair and began tabbing through the computer.
“I’m sure you already have an idea of this stuff anyway even if you haven’t read the documents. Hardly anyone in this department who hasn’t worked with genetically engineered people or aliens anymore. Let me show you what we’ve been working on.”
Fox spent a long time breaking down the facility’s functionality to Piyo, the various strains of bacteria, viruses, viroids, and prions they’d developed to induce “re-development” in subjects, various strains they’d created, the mechanics behind their functioning. It was all fascinating, though it was sadly marred by the fact Fox was obviously not that knowledgeable about science himself, he did work in personnel after all. He was kind of bad at explaining things to begin with, he had a way of forgetting and remembering details mid-way through explanations and jumbling his own thoughts.
“This set, it’s introduced by cell membrane piercing bacteria. It can induce the human skin to have a sort of coating of hard pustules which is... Oh, we discovered decades ago a class of bacteria that could pierce the walls of plant cells and introduce new genetic code akin to a virus to change the way they grew and spread and that’s the delivery mechanism we went with because… if you want new cells with specific properties to cluster in an area in a more controlled way, these bacteria wound up being very good for that purpose. You know, different forms of delivery may carry similar potentials but if you distribute them differently they can apply differently even on readily accepting people. Viruses are the most total of course, I think prions affect cognition the most.”
Despite Fox’s fumbling of the material, Piyo was entranced by the information.
Finally, Piyo began trying to answer questions about his own biology. He spoke up, though it took a few tries to interrupt Fox.
“So, you mentioned that different subjects exhibit different effects and receptiveness to these mutagenic delivery devices. What do you mean by that? Are different people genetically predisposed or something?”
Fox snapped his fingers.
“Ah, that’s the most interesting part! They really don’t tell you anything, do they? I’m not sure where they found it but there’s this class of compounds that induce types of physical growth and change in human beings and comparable aliens that are not found in any other type of organism. The easiest method is by digestion but that only causes gradual effects, though I suppose that’s likely why people tend to process food so differently from each other, going by proximity your gut changes itself the fastest. Direct introduction to cells, however, can induce very rapid change.
“As far as we have been informed here, they still haven’t come to understand what these compounds exactly are or how they have the effects they do on human biology and cognition, but what we do now is that although the effects are most immediate on whatever cells take on the material first, even if the material runs out the changes cells will propagate their new form to surrounding tissue over time until the subject has been completely converted to a new organism. Generally speaking, we agonize over delivery methods because we can control how these new developments manifest for a time, and then by the time those effects become more distributed we can change the subject’s role or terminate them outright.”
Piyo had been absent-mindedly twirling his pen again. He squeezed it tightly now, waiting to hear what this could mean. Fox went on.
“I say we ‘develop’ these new strains but really, although different strains of this compound tend to induce somewhat predictable effects, how these effects take, what actually manifests, and how rapidly depend on the subject. The current running theory is that their subconscious is in some level of control over the process, if someone is highly incompatible there may be no visible changes at all, but most typically they’ll at least slightly change. They may act distressed or say it’s strange, and I’m sure it is strange, but we have the scans of their brains during the process, they don’t seem to be too against it, usually quite the opposite actually, no matter what they say.”
The blood ran out of Piyo’s face at this, though luckily in a grim way, his skin was pale enough by this point that it wasn’t visible. Fox, had not registered Piyo’s distress.
“Hey, maybe if you get deep enough in this place you can apply to join us. I know it’s an awkward time but we always need people to join us.”
Piyo wasn’t listening. He tried to get control of himself a bit by changing the subject.
“How many people do you typically have on staff?”
“25 to 30, but we are looking for people right now. You should consider joining us.”
Piyo noticed Fox’s smile looked more fake than it did before, but his brain started to fade out again. What had been done to him?
“Are any of these mutagenic strains contagious? Like, can one person cause another to undergo the same changes?”
Fox looked thoughtful for a second.
“We’ve never recorded any sign of contagion; the delivery methods we use don’t reproduce. Although, if a changed subject were to reproduce the child would inherit the new genetic properties as it will also affect the germline.”
“Would it be possible?”
“I suppose, but like I said, we’ve never found an example.”
“I see. Thank you for your time.”
Piyo stood, Fox didn’t.
“Are you really here to investigate the disappearances? I think you’re getting a little off track.”
Piyo shrugged and thought on his feet.
“I’m going to go looking for evidence at the scene. I need to find the scene of the crime, if there is one, myself. Failing that, anything that could clue me in on what happened to those men is probably buried down there with them. Which tunnel did they go down?”
“B-7. Want me to go with you?”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll set out in the morning. Goodbye.”
Piyo found, upon pulling himself away, that he had a splitting headache.
5 – Demolition
Piyo stumbled down corridor B-7, it was dark out, he was sure. He had left a device to check if anyone would be going past the mouth of the tunnel tonight. He didn’t want anyone following him, he’d left immediately after the conversation hoping that they’d believe that he would be going in the morning and not immediately.
His stinging headache gradually gave way to a torrent of thought. He tried to control it. They’d gone missing down B-7, but was that even true? Had Fox become suspicious of him? Why did he close off so fast? What had that pale skinned thing injected him with? 25-30 people? What were all those dorms for? What was in this cave? What strains were they developing? What was happening to him? Was he going to have to fight his way out? Was there some way to destroy this whole base? What was he turning into exactly?
Did he really want to live this way?
He already knew the answer to the last question.
Piyo finally tripped over a loose stone on the steel catwalk moving across the rough-cut stone and ice floor. It pulled him back into reality. He looked around himself, at the dim, frigid passageway, deserted.
Just focus on the mission at hand. Figure out what happened, then get out. If he could solve this case that would get him out of here in a hurry. He had the truth, now he just needed his way out. The best way to quell suspicions would be to do what he came here to do, supposedly. He had to find the bodies.
After losing count of the number of carved tunnels and prefab staircases into the earth he’d descended – just how big did this place need to be? – Piyo came upon a solid structure embedded in the stone. Likely a proper research facility. The air was stuffy this far down, and the lighting had gotten thinner. This place obviously wasn’t much traversed. The heavy steel door at the front was marked “B4-L” in block lettering in the center, had no windows, and sported an electronic lock. It didn’t respond to Piyo.
“So now they’re concerned with security, huh?”
Under normal circumstances, with some time, Piyo could bypass this lock. This time, however, he noticed a very slight gap at the other end of the door. He carefully wedged the tip of his fingers in and began to pull on the thick, steel door. Slowly, it began to give way, grinding against its tracks and the motors inside, until it gave him a wide enough gap to step through, revealing a second door behind, an electronic lock and keypad this time. This was a mantrap, a locking double-door mechanism designed to secure a top-secret area, and it was good at it, but not good enough. Mutation had its advantages.
He felt good.
This lab was a secured area within a secured area. Piyo had hit paydirt, paydirt that Fox thought would be safe from the detective, he thought that he’d have to come back out and ask for his help Piyo thought. He’d flipped the script on him this time, Fox had no idea where Piyo was, or what he was about to find.
The lab was the work of professionals. No randomly strewn equipment or loose documents this time, this place was proper, well kept, logically organized according to a standard. Security considerations were met, for the most part anyway.
Reconnaissance. Piyo stepped around the room, careful not to disturb anything. There wouldn’t be any cameras or microphones, anything that could expose sensitive information, but motion sensors, logging, that was all fair game. There was a wooden door with a keypad, not a badge scanner. That was likely the wiring closet, it would hold the drop for this floor that connected it to the rest of the network. Several halls with electronically locked doors with scanners. The locks didn’t mean anything now, the ones in here were even weaker than the magnetically secured steel doors in the mantrap. The biggest concern for Piyo were the computers. They used card authentication, he’d need an ID to log in. There were ways around that, however, that would likely create network logs which would be routed to the administrators here. That would blow his cover. Taking out the network down here would likely create an even more obvious event. Piyo decided to shelve that for the time being.
Some of the rooms were offices, they had various printed documents stored inside the locked cabinets (no longer safe around this detective) but not many were of immediate interest. What was more interesting were the specimen rooms. Information on new strains of mutagen, handwritten research reports, improperly secured documents clearly still in use.
Piyo forced open one of the doors, inside, he was both elated and horrified to find one more lab, this one with the key to the case suspended in ether before him.
Piyo beheld the specimen. The skin was glossy; it gave a slightly translucent effect to the organism. The hands and feet had tacky palms and extended joints, maybe for climbing. The documents surrounding it reported increased, denser adipose tissue. Blubber, surviving in the cold. The pupils flashed at the right angles, like a dog. It was meant to see in low light environments. Ideal for these arctic caves. Piyo put the fact that this was once a man out of his mind. It was obvious that this was not a general mutation that would have been useful to the government, this was purpose developed for these caves.
Piyo looked closer. It hardly had any nails. The arms were thin; it lacked muscle tissue. Even the teeth seemed a bit recessive. This was not a hostile form. The document reported increased density of neural tissue and growth of psionically receptive organs. This thing was clearly not receptive to violent intention. Why develop your new human like this?
Another room of major interest, a former specimen containment room. Whatever it contained had been destroyed, the data purged. Piyo poked around through the scrubbed-clean room. An empty containment chamber, shredded drives containing what he assumed to be information on the mutagen. A mobile incinerator was deployed in the corner and cleanly swept out when the job was done. Not a scrap of evidence of what was in here remained. Why destroy this specimen in particular? Who are you trying to hide it from when only a handful of people can even enter this lab? Even know that it exists?
Piyo stopped and considered what he’d seen. He had almost enough evidence that he wouldn’t need to access the computer systems at all to satisfy the crowd. This was just a performative job, truth be damned, right? One had tried to do some nasty science stuff on the other, and whatever happened, it was because of the ensuing struggle. Neither made it out of the caves, that was the story Fox would want him to give, and he could easily provide it.
No, he didn’t want to take the easy way out anymore. Piyo decided to blow this case open for real. He was going to need some more evidence to prove his suspicion though. He needed to find one of the two men who had come down here. The one that was still living.
6 – Gone Fishing
Piyo had absolutely no idea how to catch this mutant. It was a see-through creature adapted to hiding in dark caves from people like him, what was he going to do about that?
He’d found his way into the darkest section of the caverns that made up B-4, figuring if it were going to hide anywhere, it would hide here. He slowly started to walk into the black area with no light to guide him. He’d get in as deep as he could until his eyes couldn’t adjust any further, which ended up being disappointingly close to the entrance, then kneel down and wait for any sign of his quarry.
He tried to keep time as best he could without lighting up his watch. He waited roughly half an hour. No sign of anything. It was time to try a hail-Mary, he supposed.
Piyo had loaded himself down as heavily as he could underneath his heavy coat. The winter environment justified dressing more heavily than someone usually would, even if underground things were more pleasant, so Piyo got away with carrying a good deal more equipment than he usually would be able to without drawing suspicion. He unhooked a flashbang from his belt and felt for the pin.
Operating under the logic that a creature designed to hide in tunnels and stay out of sight would likely be overwhelmed by a sudden burst of light and sound, or, at the very least, react like a normal person would to being flashbanged, Piyo chucked the thing in and covered his eyes.
The shockwave ripped through the tunnel, much worse than a flashbang normally would produce given the enclosed space. Piyo was left totally deaf, but he could see a scrawny man with enormous eyes knocked out cold in the center of the unfinished stretch of tunnel with the beam of his flashlight.
Piyo rushed into the center of the room and grabbed him. He hadn’t thought to pack handcuffs, but he supposed the scrawny man wouldn’t really be able to resist a normal human, much less Piyo.
He rifled through the man-thing’s pockets which hung loosely from its thin legs, held only by a pair of suspenders secured over the shoulders. This was make or break, this would be his safe ticket out of this place, he needed two items to put all the pieces together. He felt the edge of a plastic card, and a thick, polished wooden surface. Bingo.
One standard computer access ID card registered to Saul Post, a man reported missing just weeks ago. With it, a sharpened switchblade. He didn’t even need Wyman’s body now, he knew what had happened. It was time for that rancid old man to pay. For what he had done.
Piyo carried the docile Pope by the scruff of his neck, if you could call it that, and started back up the tunnel. All he needed to do was gather some data from the computers, then it would be time for the big show-and-tell. He could hardly wait.
7 – Justice
Piyo had Fox gather as many men as he could into the break room where they had first done their interview. Piyo stood with his heart beating out of his chest, breathing heavily in the corner but the attention of the audience was focused intensely on the shaking new form of Saul Post. Everyone except Fox, that is. Fox tried to mimic the others, but he was bad at it, he could see him shooting angry looks at Piyo, trying to hide it as best he could. Piyo had a roaring headache, the old man was trying his hardest to get out of this situation, but he hadn’t bet on someone who’d already shut himself off from all psychic reception.
Piyo loudly cleared his throat, pulling the attention of the audience. He had a table pushed in front of his corner; he was trying his best to make the awkward position it was in seem natural. He tried to feel the light switch behind him, back and to the right. Further to the right, the rear door was ever so slightly propped open by a small stone, normally notable but now hardly enough to be seen given the quivering mutant drawing stares at the center of the room.
Piyo counted thirteen spectators out of the twenty-three remaining on station. Ten people weren’t there. If any of them were network administrators, they may see that Piyo had sabotaged this floor’s network just before. In any case, it was too late to handle that now.
Piyo noticed, with amusement, someone was wearing a sharp suit in the audience, like a proper businessman or official. That was the installation administrator. He noted that he had never even considered how strange it was that everything ran through the director of personnel, Fox, and not the director, not even the security office. Fox really was dull. No, he wasn’t dull, he was lazy, he’d got used to his new psychic powers, he’d forgotten that he’d gotten this far by being social, by being a regular manipulator, not a psionic one. Pride really did come before the fall.
“Thanks for coming, everyone.” Piyo smiled warmly and stooped down over the table.
Fox put on a fake smile.
“Detective, I trust you’ve solved the case?”
“Indeed I have.” Piyo stood up and inconspicuously placed his right hand on his hip, using his left to maneuver his props.
“Here’s what happened, everybody. Saul Pope and John Wyman left to do research in the secured lab in ice shaft B4. An actually secured lab, not like this place, some of the laxest security practice I’ve ever seen in a government facility.”
Fox looked mildly irritated at the jab but stayed silent. Piyo continued.
“Pope had this knife on him.” Piyo lifted the switch knife. “Your genetic tools have confirmed the presence of Wyman’s DNA on the blade. Pope killed his coworker in that shaft before unintentionally exposing himself to a poorly secured mutagen, leaving him as he is today. Poetic justice, right? Personnel records attest to the fact that the two had previous interpersonal issues that led them to this point. Really, Wyman should have refused to go with Pope at all, or at the very least brought a trusted third party with him. Why did the Pope leave a little later? I suppose he likely forgot his ID or knife, something like that, who can be sure? It’s not like a man gears up for murder every day.”
Fox looked slightly relieved.
“Well, Mr. Fox, that’s the story, isn’t it?”
“Why, yes, that all sounds quite believable. I can attest seeing them tiff with each other myself, actually. I had no idea it could reach this point. You are clearly a quick-witted detective.”
Piyo failed to contain a fierce grin.
“Of course, of course. However, Wyman wasn’t stupid. There was a third man with him and Pope. You knew that, right Fox? I found a few strands of hair in that lab. They matched your genetic template. Personnel obviously wouldn’t have access to a secured area like that, so for you to have been in there you must have been with them.”
Piyo was lying about the hair, but Fox’s face still went pale. The rest of the crowd turned to the personnel director, but they didn’t react with the shock one would expect from finding out a coworker was possibly involved with murder. This confirmed Piyo’s final suspicions.
Piyo lifted Pope’s card.
“I used this to check the records. You got lazy, so of course you never locked the accounts for Pope or Wyman. That would have been a job for personnel, but I suppose you think you’re above doing your real job now, don’t you? A properly authenticated login was of course not enough to signal a network alert, even on a dead man’s account. Even being able to log in told me something, of course, Pope worked in that lab, and he was authorized to see all the research, even the logs. Do you think someone who worked in that lab daily would really accidentally infect himself with a mutagen that would turn him into this? Especially since those rooms are so secure, the CIA has this kind of containment down to a science, it’s incredible. Leaks are barely possible. Naturally the real question is now, who turned him into this and why? I think the answer to the former is obvious.”
Fox was turning from white to red. This was what Piyo wanted to see. He subtly pocketed the ID and continued.
“Pope would never have killed someone, he was a skittish and gentle man. Even if he had personal issues with someone, he’d never take it out on them. The form he took proves that, as you said yourself, that he could never have taken any violent action. You, in the back, pick him up.”
Obediently, a man in the back lifted Pope with one hand.
“You really think a grown man is going to lose in a struggle to that?”
Fox looked back at Pope, then turned around to face Piyo again.
“Through this, we can put together a picture of what happened. Wyman performed the procedure on Pope. The third party directed. The third party then proceeded to kill Wyman - because he was a witness maybe? - and plant the knife on Pope. He likely left the lab using Wyman’s ID. So, the last question, why did Pope and Wyman go along with this, and what was Fox’s motive?”
Piyo edged slightly closer to the door. He raised his left hand and pointed at Fox.
“Why they went along with it was something that a normal man would have never considered, a human being would have never been able to see what was happening to him, but I’m not a normal human being, am I? You didn’t expect an alien species with unparalleled psychic potential, and you definitely didn’t expect one who had to learned to mitigate all psionic suggestion.”
Piyo pointed at the side of his head and smiled.
“I got a horrible headache from talking to you, it didn’t make sense, not for a while. Now I realize, that was psychic suggestion I was reacting to, I just never expected it from a ‘normal human’. All your terrible attempts at manipulating me verbally were backed up by strong psychic influence, influence I was immune to but your coworkers weren’t, over time they grew to accept even the most suspicious orders from you, you were in the back of their minds and they had no idea. You became the de facto nervous system for this entire installation.”
Piyo adjusted the hem of his coat somewhat, to make it easier to reach underneath.
“Maybe it’s circumstantial but I think that accounts for the incinerated specimen I found in the lab. You wanted to bring up the ladder behind you, so you destroyed any trace of the mutagen you used or got one of your puppets here to do it for you.”
Piyo threw the files on Pope’s mutagen into the center of the room and moved closer to the door. Diversion.
“You’ll find Pope has most likely developed more prominent psychic organs and much denser nervous tissue. That would make him even more receptive to psionic suggestion. You practically admitted it to me when we met, Pope. Not enough of you in this world? Needed to assert yourself, take control? You know it takes time to control regular humans, they’re not perfectly receptive. You can only suggest, influence, re-educate. Commanding the minds of your coworkers, your coworkers need some modifications to make that work. You wanted to force yourself on others, and you’ll do so until you’re the only sane mind left.”
Fox finally stood up out of rage and shouted. “But you said the same thing! I know your mutations, you’re a—”
Everyone turned to watch Fox’s outburst. That was what Piyo was waiting for.
Fox launched up, but then crashed back down to the ground, one bullet in his gut, the other in his chest. Piyo quickly reached back with his shoulder, shutting off the lights in the room. He reached down to his belt and drew a grenade. He rolled it across the room as he himself rolled through the door and got clear.
The thing about psionic suggestion is that people don’t change their beliefs just because whoever is manipulating them is gone, it just means whatever created those delusions is gone. This whole facility was well programmed by this point, and Piyo just took out their boss.
He was running up the stairs by the time the grenade went off. He didn’t stop to listen to what happened. He felt a rush of blood and he counted down in his mind.
“10 down, 13 left.”
The network would come back, and when it did, these people were going to tell the CIA about everything that happened, and it wouldn’t be in his favor. They all had to go, every last one, or else the intelligence agencies would know about Piyo, and they’d be coming for him.
He could have gotten away safely, looking like a real investigator by giving Fox’s intended story, but no, he hated Fox, and now he did something about him. He told himself Fox was a threat to the world and that was true, but the real reason, he hated Fox. He couldn’t stand to let him live. He had to die.
Piyo kicked down another door and found two men behind it. They were armed, Fox had a contingency plan for Piyo, he just wasn’t planning on going down so soon. Luckily, Piyo was a quick shot.
12. 11.
His blood ran hot. His coat trailed like a cape from his shoulders. He was picking up inhuman speed, pushing the earth away from himself without thinking. He was a meteor, destroying everything in his way, leaving nothing behind. He was invincible.
He flew around a blind corner. This time he was too slow. Piyo found a pistol already in his face. It was being held by a man sporting long blonde hair, like from before. His eyes looked puffy. The man hesitated.
With one impulse, Piyo reached out and grabbed his arm, he crushed the bone. The man lost control of his weapon and it dropped to the floor. Reeling back, he tore the appendage from its socket and let it fall to the ground. The man jerked forward with it, landing hard on his shoulder. Piyo removed the pen and held it high above his head. His trance was only broken when he noticed something glistening on the tip.
Taking it down to examine it, he found his hand excreting… something, which then rolled down to the end of the pen. What was it? He remembered, the injections, the pain, the white skin, the black, empty eyes. It was the same venom. He knew it.
Piyo threw the pen away from himself, as far as it could go. He fell backwards against the wall and started breathing hard, his thoughts leaving him. What was he doing? What the hell was he doing? It was like a dream. His veins filled with ice. His face burned.
Piyo sat silent against the wall for what seemed like an eternity. Very slowly, staff approached, though they dare not touch him now. The beast just sat there, crying. They didn’t know what to make of it, they were terrified of what it could mean.
Eventually, Piyo stopped crying, he rose, he lurched forward towards the door. The men fell over getting out of his way. He surged through the gates, out into the night, into the vast plane of snow beneath the stars.
Fox had to die, and now Piyo had to die too. He’d go out and kill the evil in his own heart, and he wouldn’t leave a man alive who would do this to anyone else. There wouldn’t be any more Foxes in the world and there wouldn’t be any more Piyos in the world, he’d root them out from the whole world, and they would never spread their seed again.
And so, he fled. He fled out into the frozen desert, seeking to absolve himself of unforgiveable crimes. Either he’d change himself or he would die, because nobody like him ought to live.
It was the only way he could bear to live any longer.