The Pandora Directive: A Tex Murphy Novel (24 page)

One of the corpses was moving.

My first thought, as happens quite often in extreme situations, was completely irrational. I wondered how someone could have been injured and stayed here in the complex all these years without medical attention. I reconsidered and suddenly realised that I had no same explanation for the movement of the corpse. I had the power cell and that was all that really mattered. I moved toward the elevator, not caring about anything except getting above ground and going home. Suddenly, another corpse moved.

I froze. Sounds of rustling and scraping echoed softly through the dead air. I spun around. Behind me, other bodies were moving. My breathing became shallow. All around me it appeared as if an army of dead men was coming to life. Some of the bodies twitched uncontrollably. Others convulsed violently. I was in a house of horrors. I turned and ran.

Just as I reached the elevator doors a loud, low groan filled the chamber. Without thinking, I turned to see what had caused the sound. One of the corpses shook with a tremendous spasm. Transfixed, I watched as a greenish-grey mist seeped from the mouth of the dead man. I’d never seen anything like it. The mist was transparent and moved fluidly, but seemed to have too much mass to be floating in the air.

The mist rose slowly toward fluorescent lights high above the floor. The light surrounding me slowly assumed a green tent. Most of the corpses were now groaning and convulsing and emitting more greenish-grey mist from their mouths. decor is of crows grew louder and louder. The walls were now glowing green. Clouds of the greenest continue drifting toward the fluorescent lights. Despite the terror surging through me, I couldn’t take my eyes away from the scene.

With a strong effort, I turned away and press the button for the elevator. As I waited for the doors to open, I looked back. The mass ascension was slowing. Then, to my horror, the cloud began to drift toward me. The doors to the elevator opened and I quickly stepped inside. The doors slowly closed behind me.

Still holding the power cell with one hand, I fumbled through my pockets for the blue passcard. The first passcard I found was the red one. I dropped it and continued searching. Green light glowed through the cracks around the elevator doors. I found the blue passcard and inserted it, then push the button for Level One. The elevator shuddered then started to rise.

I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. My heart was racing uncontrollably. The elevator vibrated comfortingly as it carried me closer to the surface. I took a deep breath, and opened my eyes. Mist was seeping in through the cracks under the elevator doors. I’d dropped the power cell and slid into the corner. I was trapped. The mist was more transparent than it had been before, as if it had stretched in order to slide under the cracks. It sparkled as it slowly rose from the floor.

I looked around the interior of the elevator wildly, desperately. I felt a tingling sensation on my face and hands, as if the muscles they were going to sleep. The elevator continued its slow, grinding ascent. My eyes began to sting. On one of the walls I spotted a small panel with the words “Emergency Only” on it. This qualified. My hands tingled painfully as I ripped the panel door off. The inside of my mouth now felt as if it were coated with sand. Inside the emergency panel was an old-fashioned telephone and a small, red fire extinguisher. I grabbed the extinguisher, pulled the pin, and pointed it at the mist, which had now almost filled the interior of the elevator. Foam spewed from the extinguisher nozzle. The light emanating from the mist dulled to grey. I continued spraying in every direction. The tingling on my hands and face began to fade. The extinguisher began to cough. It was almost empty.

The elevator lurched to a stop. The mist had vanished. The elevator doors opened as I drop extinguisher and grabbed the power cell from the floor. I ran out through the vault door into the compound and raced toward the guardhouse. The two guards started violently as I burst inside.

“Turn off the power to the underground complex!”

Todd looked like his bladder had just said sayonara. Willis looked at me stupidly.

“Now! Turn off the power!”

Grasping my message, Willis hurried off. I followed and made sure that he didn’t make any detours. Thirty seconds later, the power had been shut down. Grabbing a full-size fire extinguisher from the wall, and still clutching the power cell, I ran back through the vault door to the elevator. I waited anxiously to see if the alien mist was going to escape. After some time, I began to relax. I waited a while longer, then returned to the guardhouse. The guards look too frightened to even ask what had happened. I was still too frightened to tell them.

There was one thing I needed to say, however. “I want you to go lock that vault door, destroy the key, and then put the complex into a deep freeze. And if anyone ever comes here again, I don’t care who it is, I don’t care if it’s the damn president, and they want to go underground, you have orders direct from the NSA to blow their stupid brains out. Got it?”

I wondered whether my hands would ever quick shaking. It wasn’t just the thought of how close I’d come to ending up like the mummified corpses in the Roswell Complex, it was the fact that I’d almost let loose a plague worthy of Moses into the outside world. I’d come half a blonde hair from becoming the conductor on the Train to Oblivion. I’d screwed up plenty of times in my life, but this would have been the end all. Probably literally.

I opened the window of my speeder and lit a much-needed cigarette. Sure, I’d gotten lucky, but there are worse things than luck. Besides, what was luck but preparation meeting opportunity? Most importantly, I’d found the power cell. Rationalisation in hindsight has always been one of my strengths.

Having the power cell in the speeder with me was eerie, like carrying an urn full of someone’s ashes. It looked innocuous enough, not particularly strange or alien, but it had been constructed somewhere far away, by the hands of extraterrestrials. I looked down at it and wondered what it’s purpose was. Was it a weapon, or nothing more than an alien flashlight? What would a hand-grenade look like to a visitor from another galaxy?

Now that I was clear of the Roswell Complex and headed home, I felt a sudden urge to not have the alien device in my immediate vicinity. Besides, the anonymous caller had said that I shouldn’t carry it any longer than absolutely necessary. I decided to get to the nearest sign of civilisation. I checked my flightpath and saw that I’d be passing close by Albuquerque within several minutes. My heart had finally dropped out of my throat, and I realised I was famished. Maybe some spicy south-western food would clear my head and give me an idea of what to do with the power cell.

Regretfully, I’d never been to Albuquerque. Prior to the war it had been a thriving city, populated by New Age cowboys, misanthropic artists, and sun-baked granola eaters. Now, it was a dusty, ramshackle oasis amid miles of desolation. Nearly all the city lights ran in two parallel lines down either side of Lomas Boulevard — Las Vegas without any of the excitement.

I landed my speeder in front of a dilapidated but warmly lit eaterie called the Last Chance Diner. It wasn’t much of a name, but neither was the Brew & Stew. A sign in front read Best Food for Miles. Some local wit had spray-painted a line through Best and written Only above it.

Over the chicken-fried steak and gravy, I formulated a plan for temporarily getting the power cell out of circulation. I didn’t want to keep it with me any longer than I had to, and I couldn’t think of an utterly secure place to keep it. After due consideration and four cups of coffee-coloured water, I finally decided to put my faith in United Parcel Express. Sure, UPEX was known for making deliveries in pieces, but if the power cell had survived an interstellar crash, it would probably survive a rugged delivery.

After I finished the cholesterol plate, I asked for directions to the nearest UPEX office. I boxed the power cell and addressed it to the Savoy Hotel, care of G. Fitzpatrick. For the first time in my life, I paid the extra thirty bucks to have the package certified; I wasn’t about to let them misplace an extra terrestrial device. The man at the counter told me that the package would get to the Savoy in two days. I accidentally left a fifty on the counter to help remind him. With any luck, it would arrive when we were ready for it. And, hopefully, I’d find out exactly what I was supposed to do with it during the next few days.

Feeling significantly less burdened, I got back in my speeder and pointed it toward home. As I pulled out of Albuquerque, I caught sight of a sign: Phoenix 332 miles. I checked my Geo-grid. Phoenix wasn’t that far out of my way; I could be there in less than two hours. Maybe I should pay Chelsea a surprise visit. After Roswell, I needed to see a friendly face.

Then I reconsidered. I didn’t have an address and I hadn’t brought the phone number, and Phoenix wasn’t a small place. Besides, even if I knew where to find Chelsea, maybe she wasn’t ready to see me. And what would I say to her? Now that I thought about it, I missed her, but Lord knows, I wasn’t ready to put a ring on her finger at this point, not with Regan moving into the picture. Oh, the confusion.

Four hours later, I unlocked the door to my office, an exhausted, gurgling mass of undigested steak batter and grease. I stumbled into the bedroom and hit the bed face-first. It must have been post-traumatic stress. I couldn’t remember ever been so utterly spent. After what seemed like a minute and a half, a pounding sound roused me from the puddle of drool. Blinking stupidly, I lifted my flat, creased face and pushed my aching body up from the bed.

The annoying thumping was coming from the door. I staggered through my office and turned the knob.

“What?”

I was too tired to keep my eyelids up. Something smelled good. If only I could get my eyes open.

“Where have you been all my life, handsome?” It was Regan.

I stepped aside, discarding all the vestiges of vanity and self-respect, and opened the door wide. She stepped past me and walked toward one of the chairs at my desk. Involuntarily, my left eye opened halfway. She looked devastating. Dropping into the seat and crossing her legs elegantly, she turned her gaze back toward me.

“Did I wake you?” She was a paragon of intuition. I grunted and wandered over to the mirror. God, I was a mess. My face looked like a balled up pair of khakis. It desperately needed to be steam-cleaned and pressed. I excused myself and crawled into the shower. Between the hot water and the potent deodorant soap, my synaptic functions reluctantly emerged from hibernation. I towelled off and slipped on a bath robe. Grabbing the pack of smokes from my overcoat, I walked into my office. Regan was just returning to her seat. Apparently, she’d been doing a little snooping.

“Find anything interesting?” I walked past where Regan was primly seated and dropped into my desk chair. She looked at me openly, the very epitome of innocence.

“What do you mean?”

“Searching a PI’s office would be like me going through your purse.”

Regan smiled disarmingly. “You can look in my purse. I don’t mind.”

“That’s not the point.” I lit a cigarette and blew a stream of smoke towards the ceiling. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Regan still smiling at me.

“Are you always this friendly when you get up?” She was incorrigible. It didn’t seem to matter that I was annoyed. The more I got to know Regan, the more I realised that I had to take her on her own terms. Being upset by her uncontrolled curiosity was like resenting a carrot for being orange. She was the way she was, and if that wasn’t enough, then too bad. Unfortunately, even in a state of pique, I was overwhelmingly attracted to her. What I really wanted to do was leap over my desk and show her all the steps of the Forbidden Dance of Love. But caving in to carnal desire at this point would only condone her attitude. I had an image to uphold.

I turned back to her, a pillar of strength in terry cloth. “So, did you find anything useful in the notebooks?”

“Maybe. What’s it worth to you?”

“Do you take checks?”

“Sorry. I require full payment… up front.” her tone allowed for very little interpretation. Be strong, Murphy.

“I’m a little insolvent right now, though I’d be happy to write you an IOU.”

“There’ll be interest charges — you’ll have to make regular payments.”

“That’s OK. As soon as I get my finances organised, I’ll completely satisfy the debt… with interest.”

Regan made a nice sound. “I’m looking forward to it.” She reached down and pulled the notebook from her purse. Opening one of them, she took out several sheets of paper and handed them to me. “This is a summary of what I was able to figure out. Ninety percent are the contents of the alien symbols and notes on translating. As far as I could tell, there isn’t much of anything useful until the end of the second notebook. It’s all pretty vague.”

Regan’s notes had frequent references to OE and EW. the context implied that these were people. EW was almost certainly Elijah Witt. As for OE I had no idea who it could be. Other information included references to PD and the Roswell Complex. The number 186 was noted, which just happened to be the item number of the power cell had recently liberated from Roswell.

“What do you think this means?” Regan had come around the desk and was now standing behind me, pointing at the PD reference. “Do you think he was working with the police?”

I shook my head. “I’m pretty sure it stands for Pandora Device.”

Regan sat down on the corner of my desk. “Excuse me?”

“The Pandora Device. Apparently, your father was working on it not long before he died.”

Regan folded her arms. “How do you know about it?”

“It’s a long story. The important thing is, I’m pretty sure that it’s tied up with the boxes were looking for.”

Regan leaned forward excitedly. “So what does this Pandora Device do?”

“I don’t know. But it’s obviously something big. Seems like everyone and their grandmother is trying to get their hands on it.”

Regan jumped up and walked away. “I knew it! I wasn’t sure exactly what he was working on, but I knew it’d be worth a fortune.” She whipped around to face me.