The Serpents and the Skulls, Chapter 3.2
08 Apr 2017Michael Wolfe
The things I do for these people.
I am standing in the observation deck of the main surgery suite at Clair Dock. Beside me are the other members of the High Council, minus Degginal. The poor old man was still confined to his bed. Not that that was a bad thing. The sight of what Marrakech had planned would probably have been enough to finish him off, anyway.
Despite the potential importance of what was about to happen, I found myself bored and disinterested. Business details have never appealed to me, unless they were the fleshy details of running the Velvet Club back on Dantec. And though the details of this particular medical adventure indeed dealt in flesh, I would have still preferred to luxuriate in my suite and be delivered a report later.
Indeed, my suite was sounding positively heavenly right now. Not because of who would be there- a beautiful new acquisition I’d leased from Exotica- but because of who wasn’t.
Glaboski, I thought. A sickening name for a sickening man.
When first introduced, Dr. Herbert Glaboski had taken my hand and pressed his cold lips to it in a sign of perfect gentlemanliness. But when he’d looked up, I felt a chill run down my spine. He had fooled the others, but he couldn't fool me. I knew what people with those eyes were capable of. There hadn’t been a hint of malice or deception in them- and in Pegasi, that worried me more than anything. He’d been dressed immaculately, his appearance and demeanor perfect- the very image of refinement. I complimented him on his new position as Black Omega’s chief of medical science, and he’d brushed off the remark, looking at me those cold, perfect eyes.
“But of course. We must take care of ourselves. After all- if one hasn’t their health, one hasn’t anything at all. Tell me- when was your last exam?”
My hand had remained in his for just a moment longer than protocol dictated. I slipped my fingers from his as gracefully as I could and excused myself. Even as I walked away, I felt his gaze upon me. I’d often felt most men’s gazes upon me, of course- but this was different. Being mentally undressed and ravished by perfect strangers was nothing new. The feeling that one was being sized up for some unspeakable experiment was.
But that isn’t your concern. Not today, anyway. His focus on that child, not you.
I selected a seat and settled in among the rest of the black-suited members of the High Council. All their faces were set, with full knowledge of what would shortly happen to the child. Marra entered the observation deck and took a seat next to mine, Apollonia in tow. In her servant’s hands were two glasses of wine. My former companion extended one of them my way with perfect courtesy.
“Wine, cheri?”
I smiled graciously at her as I accepted the drink. Used-up, bony putain.
Marra accepted the other glass as she squeezed her hand in mine, letting it linger. I took a sip of the wine, and-
“Mon dieu! What is this?”
The wine had tasted sweet enough, but left an almost acidic burn on the way down. And it didn’t settle quietly, either- a leftover warmth remained in my belly even after the first quaff. I sniffed the liquid, swirling it under my nose. Nothing about the fragrance hinted at the bite that was in store for the imbiber. Marra only smiled as she took a sip of her own.
“Nijkas-fermented venomwine. You didn’t really think that the child was the only thing we liberated from that wreck, did you?”
I smiled in return and held her hand against my cheek.
You smirking bitch. The attempt on my life was made using this vile piss, and you know it.
“It’s… exhilarating! A refreshment that fills one with a zest for life, oui?”
Unless you’re Fabrizzio.
The consigliere’s eyes flashed with dangerous charm as she held up her glass. “To your health.”
“And yours, mon ami.”
I drank another sip with my friend. To your cunt rotting along with your soul.
Over the loudspeaker, Glaboski had finished his surgical preparations. It was his style to operate sans any assistants, and he stood alone- the maestro without an orchestra. His smooth baritone voice sounded over the intercom.
“Is the gallery prepared?”
Marra slipped her hand away and rose, taking a few steps to the observation glass and looking down at the scene.
“Yes. Is the good doctor prepared?”
The man below us flashed a charming smile, his eyes holding a disturbing warmth to them.
“The doctor has been prepared.”
Morgan nodded, taking a sip of her wine. “Then bring her in.”
Glaboski pressed a button on his holo-terminal, and a door opened. Moving along a track towards the center of the room was an upright medical table. On the table was the little girl, head shaved and wide-eyed with fear. He smiled warmly at her before continuing, turning to the council.
“This had better work,” I heard Victor mutter from behind me. “I didn’t fly here just to watch some quack and his freak show.”
Marra looked over her shoulder, having overheard the comment.
“You wanted prisoners,” she said. “And now we have one. This is how history is made.”
But the doctor was holding up his hands, calling attention to himself before proceeding.
“As you all know,” he said. “The neural shunt is one of the medical profession’s most misunderstood procedures. Even in our age of advanced technological progress, aspects of the human brain remain a mystery to even the most brilliant neurophysiologist. But no longer.”
A tear was rolling down the little girl’s face as she looked around. In her arms were tubes with various drugs that were starting to snake their way into her veins, color creeping along the clear tubing. Her breathing started to slow as her eyes glazed over. Glaboski picked up what looked like a long, sinister needle from the medical tray and held it up for all to see. It was silver, with a blinking blue light on the tip. From where I stood, I was reminded of a wizard and his magical wand.
“What hidden wonders the brain has in store for those with the courage to seek them out! And what a fortunate opportunity to embark on that journey, free from the narrow minded, petty morality of those who misunderstand genius in their own time!”
I took a sip of my wine, growing accustomed to the burn in my throat. He certainly thinks highly of himself, doesn’t he?
The man droned on, detailing the intricate aspects of the procedure even as he performed the last steps of the preparation work on the terrified child. Finally, he held up the thick, glowing needle.
“- and once the cranial access in the occipital ridge has been drilled and secured with the sensor ring, one need only position the probe correctly before insertion. The transmitters within instantly interact with the brain’s electrical signal, interpreting all higher-function neural patterns and altering them in real time to preclude any possibility of untruth. However, the patient is left forever… altered. Once the neural probe is inserted, its effects are irreversible. There isn’t much time, and there is no going back.”
For her part, Marra had locked on to the child, her hand tracing along the observation glass. She had a peculiar look in her eye, like she was somewhere else. Her lips were moving, but not a word was spoken. I glanced at Apollonia. Though she was trying to conceal it, her eyes were fixed on her master. Fear and worry clouded her gaze.
I glanced again at Marra, and then back to the pale-skinned waif. What do you know that I don’t, you little worm?
“Marrakech of the clan Morgan, shall we proceed?”
An glint of expectation shone in Glaboski’s eye. The consigliere didn’t respond, only staring at the little girl, her fingers curling into a loose fist next to the glass. As before, her lips continued to move on their own.
A look of puzzlement crossed the doctor’s face. “Council? Your blessing?”
A slight whisper escaped from Marra’s lips, though I couldn’t make out what it was. Whatever it was, she was repeating it.
Again, Glaboski rhetorically asked the woman’s permission, the needle still held high.
“Council?”
And unexpectedly, she answered.
“Do it!”
Her response had been almost awkwardly fierce, her eyes blazing with an intensity uncalled for, even under the present circumstances. The seated council exchanged glances among themselves, and Apollonia had moved on to biting her lip and clenching her hands in front of her chest.
So this is familiar to her. Interesting.
For his part, Glabowski nodded deferentially and took his place behind the girl.
“As the council wishes.”
With one swift motion, he shoved the probe into the back of her skull and solidly into the center of her brain. The girl’s mouth shot open as her eyes rolled back, her tiny body arching against the table’s restraints. I expected a scream, but no sound escaped her mouth. Instead, she held that position, her jaw trembling and her hands clenching the sides of the table.
Dr. Glaboski only smiled.
“There is always an adjustment period,” he said, looking up to us. “Most unpleasant for the patient, I’m afraid.”
All around him, oversized holodisplays of the girl’s brain lit up. Some were profiles of its functions, and others seemed to be tracking the probe’s progress into her head. For her part, the girl continued to struggle against her restraints, still arching her back in pain and mind-shattering trauma.
Marra blinked, and shook her head slightly. Her eyes regained their usual sharpness as she discretely looked around. All eyes were on Glaboski as he was speaking. A look of relief crossed her face as she sat down next to me, taking a long sip of wine. I favored her with a smile as I hooked my pinky with hers.
So that’s your secret. Your father’s madness has been passed down, and only that little waif knows about it. Oh, ma cheri- how badly you need a friend!
Her fingers wrapped around mine as she returned the smile. And one day, I will show you the same friendship that you showed me when you made me beholden to you for my very council seat.
Through the maddening pain, the little girl kept convulsing, ever pushing against the restraints, her eyes twitching and rolled into the back of her head. Glaboski checked a few holo-readouts before stepping beside her and gesturing.
“We have before us the rarest specimen of humanity that you will ever see- one that has access to a lifetime of memories, yet neurologically incapable of lying.”
Various members of the council nodded around me, now a little more patient with the doctor. Glaboski paced around the surgical theater and continued, moving a microphone near the girl’s mouth.
“What is your name?”
The child spoke only with great difficulty. “Ingrit.”
“Your full name.”
“Ingrit Yvette Borgia.”
The man nodded, pleased with himself. “And where are you from?”
“S-Serpent’s Respite. In Nijkas.”
Glaboski look down at her, still smiling. “Good. And why did you leave your home?”
A tiny amount of lucidity returned to the child’s eyes as she recalled recent events. “To escape the Skulls.”
An amused look crossed the doctor’s face. “And who are the Skulls?”
“Bad people. We were hiding from them.”
He leaned toward the girl, his face inches from hers. “And where were you and your people hiding?”
Her mouth opened and closed, with no answer escaping her lips at first. “I… I don’t know.”
“Waste of time,” I heard Laius mutter.
Glaboski looked up, still smiling warmly. He couldn’t have heard Victor’s comment, but seemed to anticipate what the reaction from the observation deck would be.
“Not to worry, council. She knows where it is. She simply does not know that she knows.”
Turning back to the girl, he knelt down beside her. “Tell me- did you go outside?”
“Yes.”
“During the night?”
“Yes.”
A look of almost lustful delight crossed the doctor’s features. “Good. Very good. Now, I want you to do only one thing, and then you will be free. Think about what that night sky looked like. Think hard.”
He slowly got up and adjusted a control. The child’s eyes again widened as her breath caught in her throat.
“It hurts!”
Again, the doctor knelt beside her, soothing her shorn scalp with a pale hand. In his eyes were a discomforting look of pity, juxtaposed against the pain he was inflicting.“I know. I know… but I need you to think hard about that sky. Think of the stars, like you were there again.”
“I- I’ll try.”
“Good.” His voice dropped into almost a whisper. “Are you thinking of it?”
“Y- yes.”
His compassionate eyes continued to bore into hers. “Then we’re almost done.”
Without warning, he slid a bank of levers all the way up as the holodisplays of the child’s brain intensified. The girl arched her back the same as before, actually stretching the tough medical restraints. As the last remnants of her conscious self were burned away, the child filled her lungs with their final breath as her free self...
And screamed.
All around Glaboski, information scrolled rapidly on the holograms, numerous arrows and lines of text too small to read appearing around various areas of the child’s brain. He ignored them as he watched her, a sympathetic look in his eyes at the torture she was enduring.
In time, her body and voice collapsed, the displays around him settling back to normal. He typed in a series of commands into his terminal as a new display lit up. It showed a crude starfield, an unfamiliar night sky with twin moons and what looked like a barren, inhospitable planet. The doctor typed in another set of commands, and a loading icon began to cycle.
The child was still breathing, but weakly. But it was her eyes that interested me the most. They had lost the sparkle of childlike energy, where everything is new and to be inquired after. Now, they were-
I rose from my seat, hoping to get a better view. Every member of the council did the same.
Ingrit’s eyes were dull, glazed over and barely open. She didn’t look at the doctor, didn’t look at the equipment, didn’t look at anything. Glaboski knelt down beside her a final time, slowly retracting the neural probe from inside her head. Again, he smiled warmly at his patient as he ran his hand over her sweat-matted scalp. Unlike before, the child didn’t react to his presence or his touch.
“The mind of a child,” he said. “Wonderful.”
I glanced behind me. Apollonia was the only one in the room who had not stepped closer to the observation glass. In fact, she hadn’t moved at all. Both her hands were over her mouth, and I swore that I saw tears running down-
My face twisted into a sneer as I turned back to the scene below me. Weak. She always was. The Pirate Queen will abandon her soon enough.
The loading icon finished, and a standard galactic map appeared on the master holo-display. It zoomed in on a particular star with a ninety-eight percent probability match. Though not a woman of science, I immediately understood what had happened. The doctor had somehow extracted the girl’s memory of the sanctuary’s night sky and used the position of the stars to determine where exactly she had been. The name of the system shone in bright, clear letters and numbers.
The maestro bowed at the end of the symphony, looking up at us with an air of satisfaction.
“I believe,” he said. “That we have a location.”
OOC: Many thanks to Stryker Aune for allowing the use of the infamous Doctor Glaboski and his feedback during the writing process!