Chasing Ghosts VIII: The Medicine Wears Off
03 Feb 2024Maul Montresor
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"See what I get
When the medicine wears off
You're moving fast
Try a little, see if I can make
The moment last"
"See what I get
When the medicine wears off
You're moving fast
Try a little, see if I can make
The moment last"
There I stood looking over the edge of a steel rectangular pit that expanded as infinitely above me as it did below. I appeared to be on a platform somewhere in the middle of this near incomprehensible cavity, but that'd imply that there was a top or bottom to it. I was nowhere. Gone were the blood soaked scrubs I'd puzzlingly found myself in days ago. I was well suited for this expedition...whatever it was. A rifle laid at my feet, every magazine spent. I felt scared and somehow pleased with myself. As if I'd accomplished something but didn't know what.
A bright red light came into existence at the bottom of the pit. It was as if it fazed into this reality from another. Where it had been glowing for an eternity. As bright as it had always been and as bright as it would ever be. I squinted my eyes, blocking the light with my left hand and tried to see the source of it, but to no avail. My suits temperature readings began to climb rapidly, the voice assistant warning me of the dangerous temperatures. Turning my attention back to the light, it appeared to be moving rapidly upwards towards me. Too fast to react. There was nowhere to run but I was already there. Nowhere I was quickly engulfed in the red. It embraced me. There was nothing else now. No pit. No me. Nothing. My suit began to flake off of my body in pieces, floating ever upwards. My skin soon began to follow. I felt no pain. I felt nothing. I became it.
Again, I awoke.
̷̡̡̟͈͉̖͕͈̥̩̥̗͎̝̤͇̄̿̀͋̈́͐͛͜͝.̸̛̻̙͎̫̮͕̭̘̹̜̀̋̏͌͛g̵̢͎͇̟̮͖̖͔͍͖̱̭̭̦̲̾̌̈́́͋͒̒͒̚̕ņ̷̩̤̅̚i̵̛̛̟̮͔̼̺̰͂̒̽͂̀͑̔̈́͋͊̄̔̉ͅh̴̞͓͈̩̦̟͊̈́̃̽͌̀̇͠t̸̥͍̭̭̺͑̊̓̂̃̌o̴̧̗̎̌͗̈́̋̓̀̂̽̆͝N̸̼̳̳̦̗͍̟͓͑ ̴̡͍͕̇.̶̛̖̗̹̼̠̣̱̒͋̿͐̊̾́̈́̏͛̿̕͝͠f̶̛̣̘͋͒̋͐́̇̓͒̍̌̈́͛̅̔ẹ̵̩͇̲̟͔̭̙͊̐͊̓̒̆̈́̒́͊̿͑͊̅́̕͠͝i̶̦̍ḩ̵̙̥̻̠̹̄̀̽̈́͐̄̈̑̑̿̈̀̒͝Ţ̶̺͕͎̦̙̯̙̜̲̲́͐͂̄̌́̐̉͐̔͋̄̌̂̚ͅ ̵̨͉̮̜̼͖̮̆̈́́̃̎͆̑͂̚.̷̧͕͉͔͖̦̺͙͙͓̰͚̮̅͑͋̓̑͗̔̀̋͜͜ͅr̶̝̼̗͖̳̘̫̤̼̘̼͙̭̟̜̘̎͘ē̸̛̲̱̰͛͌͆̿͂̇̓͊̄̍̍͘r̴̢̜̲̩̳̠͖̳͉̱̿̈́̂̄̓̄͂͐̽͂̈́̄͗͆͘͜͝e̸̢̥̗̦̠̠͕̝̰̘̹̙͎̾̐̈̃͑̒̂͘̚͜͜͝͠͝ḑ̶̤͕̼͙̣̬̱̯̮̱͐r̷̨̡̢̗̥̮͕͇̜̝̯͖͎͍̈̍̈́̈́̐̚̚ȕ̸̼͖̬̗̦͕͉̖̳̪̦̹͚͕̳̙̪̇͑̅̾̕̚̕͜M̶̡̛̬͙͍͇͋͂̄̊͒̈́̈́̃̀͗͘ ̴̡̨̪͓̤͓̳̺̗͕̲̗͍͉̩̙̲̔̌̉̋͆̉̂̈́͊̋͆̋̅̋͋̎̊͜.̴̼̻͓̙̝̳͚͉̰͈̯̭͉͚̻͆̾͊͌̓͐̄́͋̕͝͝ȩ̷̳̻̬̟̖̖͉̺̭͇̼͓͍̩̜͎́̉̔͒́̓͌̆̚͘r̷̨̡̛̛͓̩͓͚̥̜̭͙͔̝̪̗̤̓̐̅̈̍́̆̃̇̄̈̚͝ṳ̵̡̜̮̥̹̝́̒͛͘͝l̶̦̟̥̔̀̇̔̀̄i̸̧̢͙͍̯̗͙̟͙̯͍̝̱̯̠̤̠͈̋͂̆̇ả̵̛̫͔͌̌̕F̶̧̡̱̗̦̝̱̱͈̤̅̐̅̔̇͜͝ ̸͕̬̜͚̭̈́̐̃̊̓͂̄̃̀͘͠.̵̢̛̬̰̠͉̫͎͈̳̔͗̄ť̵͈̣͇̥̲͕̯͎̳̙̫̘̗̩̬̽̅̓̇̈͗̑͝n̸͈͙̗͍͓̜͖̘͍̻̩͓̼̈́̀̆̒̅̂̅͋͒̐̍̋è̴̢̛̞͔͕̩̭͔̟͖͍̖͍̭̺͓̺̮̥̑̏̃̈́͂̓̈́̈́̍̒̄͘͝m̴̧̛̲̀̒̏̽̄͑͒̆̎̋͑͌̊̀͝͝ț̵̡͉̭̞̼͈̖̻̖͈͉̩̮̯͙͚͗̎̽̂̈̆̀̔͗͆͐͛̔͗͐n̶̝̻̼̺̯̟̘̋̒́̎͊̈́̒̀͗͝ȋ̶͚̮̿̔̎͐̆̾͐͂̚ö̶̦͇͍̫͍͕̪̪͇́͌̈́͒̈́͌̇̾̿͠p̴̨̜̳̖̹̱͉̜̙̅͗̈́̉̆̏̆̀̽̐̕ͅp̴̧̛͍̱̼͙͖͚̎̓̿̾̆́̿̊͊̈́̏̆̕ä̷̛̼̲̰̦̱̝̪̻̙͚́s̶̢̧͖͈̞̮̦͖̪̞̿̐͒͆̑̆̔̏̊̚͜ͅĩ̵̛̪̮͋̊̓͌̌̏̀̈̀͘D̸̰͍͚̲̞̭̓̓ ̷̹̰̹̝̰̤̘͓͐͛̎̎̇͗̄.̷̡̧̧̪̹̺̝̗̮̰͚̠̭̇͜é̶̘̱̣̒̊͌̂̅̆̀̈̕ͅṡ̶̢̢̫̮̺̥̼̗̦̪̬͈̱̍͗̊͗̐͆̏̿̐̂͝ò̷̫͉̼̺̳͊̈́p̷̧̧̬͖̤̗͖̲̖̼̀̄̎͆̾͂̔͐̈́̕r̶͔͖̰̫̪͔̭͈̀̾̋̈́͌̾̇ủ̴̯̱̼̲̮͖̎̅̓̌̈́̈́͂͊͆̐̕͠͠p̶̢̡͕̰͙̘͚̟̯̟̾̐̇͜͜͝ ̶̝͉̤̩͖̹̻̭͉̞͉͚͓̆͜o̷̖̯̯̓̌̃͗́̓͂̇̊͗N̵̢̧̛̝̼̬̝͉̠̬̠͔͉̐̊̆͌́̂̾̕̕͝͝͝ͅ ̵̭̺̥̥͉̼̠̲̼̥̻͕̗͓̙̲̺̫̔̓͂͛̃ ̷̢̧̨͓͉̖̫͈̗̺̠͔̦̠́͂͒̓̽̇͋̑͊͛̉́̓͌̔͘ͅ
I sat up quickly, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. No longer was I restrained to the table in that sterile blank room but was instead lying on a medical bed. Destiny Darling and Doctor Karazija were standing on either side of the bed. Beyond them, the room looked to have been a mess hall at one point but had recently been haphazardly converted into a makeshift medical bay. There were dozens of beds, half of them containing wounded survivors. My blood soaked shirt was balled up by my feet on the edge of the bed.
"Relax Mr. Montresor." Karazija said calmly, putting one hand on my shoulder trying to prevent me from getting up.
Darling was looking at me different somehow. Perhaps concerned or confused. I couldn't tell.
"What happened? How'd I get here?" I groaned between breaths, relaxing back into the bed and glancing back and forth between the two of them.
Darling stepped forward.
"We were talking and then you just began convulsing. I uncuffed you and called for the doctor and-"
Karazija cut her off, causing a her to unleash a nasty side eye.
"...Yes, then I gave you something to calm you down and the security officers moved you here."
"I- I don't remember any of that at all." I said, looking up at Darling.
"You were acting strange moments before, staring past me at the wall like you'd seen a ghost or something." She said.
Karazija looked down at the floor, avoiding eye contact with either of us. Maybe she was right and he does know more than he's letting on.
"The last thing I can recall is you leaving me alone in the room."
She furrowed her brow and tilted her head.
"No, I never left the room. We were talking about the research that went on here before the riots broke out and then you just started to-"
"I'm sorry, I need to tend to the others." Karazija mumbled as he stepped away cutting Darling short again.
Darling rolled her eyes. She couldn't stand the doctor. He was hiding something and she could feel it. But he was the only medic that her and the remaining survivors had, so she swallowed her emotions.
After making sure the doctor was out of earshot, she looked back at me, glancing at the various scars and tattoos scattered across my bare torso.
"You've been through some shit, huh?" She said, crossing her arms.
"I guess so." I said, with a weak nod.
"Karazija said someone gave you that nasty gash on your head with a chair. I know you said you'd lost some time after arriving here but do you remember anything at all?"
She didn't ask any this before. Her questioning earlier had ended once I mentioned the Carte family. A glimmer of hope that was squashed as quickly as it appeared.
"Uh...someone shaved my head but I don't really remember it happening. There was also some big dude with a Scottish accent that kept calling me 'Billy'. He'd injected me with something. Then I...uh...saw a deer..."
Nothing I was saying was making any sense and I could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't following.
"...Nevermind." I said with a sigh, closing my eyes. It didn't matter.
Darling sat down on the edge of the bed and looked around the room at all the wounded. Her face looking as defeated as mine in that moment.
"This whole thing is a nightmare." She said as she buried her face into her hands.
"Maybe it is." I said, after a moment of giving the notion some actual thought.
Darling pulled her face out of her hands and looked at me again with tired eyes.
"You're an idiot." She said, very matter-of-factly.
I gave her a puzzled look, though I couldn't argue with the statement.
"You should have never boarded this ship. You should have just turned around and went for help."
"I know."
There was no arguing with her. Quick and rational decision making was never a strong suit of mine and I was well aware. Time and time again my bad choices had landed me in hot water. Now it had landed me in some twisted version of hell.
"But maybe there's something you can help us with. When I was looking at your file. I'd seen that you're frequently in trouble for tampering with computers and such. You still any good at that?"
"Depends on what's needing done." I said.
A slight grin formed on Darlings face.
"I've talked with the few surviving techs we have here about shutting off the external scrambler array so we can get a call out for help. Turns out it's not something they can do remotely. These constant power outages are taking some systems offline and bringing others back online seemingly at random, making it near impossible for them to do anything meaningful. So we need someone to physically go out to the control room, hack the array terminal and shut them down."
I stared at her with a blank expression. This was clearly a plan that she'd wanted to execute for some time but all of that seemed impossible for a single individual to pull off. Even less possible for one who'd just woken up from a drug induced nap.
"I know. It's a lot." She said. "But we don't have anyone here better suited for this task or we'd have done it by now. Four security officers, six techs with zero combat training, one doctor and too many wounded. Hell, most of the techs and officers are having to act as stand-in nurses to assist Karazija with the wounded."
The desperation in her voice was dripping off of every word she spoke. I couldn't imagine the things everyone here had seen and been through up to this point. My short time here had been enough to fuel my nightmares for a lifetime. But a month or more? These people were stronger than I'd ever be and to have someone as strong as Darling ask for help, this was true desperation. She was tired and scared.
"I'll help, but I need to talk to Karazija about what's going on with me. The blackouts I'm having, they make me unreliable. What if I head out there and it happens again?"
As soon as I'd agreed, her posture relaxed briefly as if a weight had literally lifted from her shoulders.
"Of course, I'll tell him you need to speak with him. Maybe he'll be more apt to help if he hears that we might finally be able to leave." She said, standing up from the edge of the bed.
"Oh...and thank you." She said sheepishly as she departed from my bedside.
After a few moments, Doctor Karazija approached me.
"Darling said you needed something? Said you'd agreed to her desperate plan?"
A hint of arrogance tainted his voice.
"Yeah, I did. Do you have a better plan or something?"
The doctor smiled and shook his head.
"Of course not, Mr. Montresor. I'm only stating the fact that it is indeed a desperate plan. I do hope it works. After all, I'd like to see my family again one day. Not too keen on rotting here."
The man was odd. It was as if he was capable of switching personalities at a moments notice. Then again, maybe it was just me being socially inept and focusing too much on things that don't matter.
"I wanted to speak to you about my blackouts. What do you think is causing them?"
The doctor sighed and gazed towards the ground, gathering his thoughts.
"Well, lets see, perhaps the hit to your head could have caused some form of brain damage, or maybe the connection to your cybernetic ocular implants have been severed and is now sending false signals to the brain, or possibly a side effect of the drug abuse. You must be suffering some form of withdrawals by now. Yes, maybe it's all three or somewhere in between."
I quickly sat up to get closer to the doctor.
"How'd you know about-?" I started to ask, in a hushed tone.
"The drug use? Working in my field, I've seen my fair share of addicts, Mr. Montresor. It didn't take much to deduce that you suffer from some form of addiction."
"Well, is there anything you can do to help?" I asked, relaxing back into the bed again.
"As I said before, I don't have the equipment here to do further analysis, and I lack the knowledge of cybernetics to be of any help. I can only give you a stimulant in hopes of leveling out your spikes and spirals. A rather odd solution but we're faced with a rather odd situation here I suppose."
I'd always gotten my fix from whatever local gangs or cartels were present in whatever random system I'd find myself in during any given day. I'd never had a doctor willingly offer to supply my addiction. I wasn't convinced this was because of a lack of drugs but rather the result of too much somehow.
"No drugs, doc. I- I think I was injected with something before...here...on the ship."
Doctor Karazija scratched at his beard.
"Was this during one of your blackouts?"
"Not exactly. It was after I was hit in the head. So, it was after I regained consciousness, I guess."
"Well, perhaps in your unconscious state, this was your mind attempting to fabricate an image derived from your deepest desires. An attempt to manifest something into existence by flooding itself with abstract visions in hopes that overwhelming itself would cause the aching need to cease. A drug abuser having dreams or visions of themselves abusing drugs doesn't seem so far fetched, does it?"
The doctor and I shared a momentary silence after his last statement. Whether he was right or wrong, it didn't change anything. I would be just as unreliable with or without the stimulants.
"Regardless," He said. "You're going to need at least a days rest before heading out there. Your body needs to recover. I'll pass the word to Darling so she can begin gathering the gear you'll need."
Once the doctor departed from my bedside, I was left with only my thoughts. Most of them being questions that had gone unanswered. I hate not having answers, it goes against every fiber of my being. I've always made rash decisions but at least they were informed ones. Every job I'd ever taken would involve research into the target and everyone and everything surrounding that target. Using information to have an upper hand to some extent. But that isn't me anymore. Who I was, is not who I am. Who I'll be, is not me.
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