When the woman, Mrs. Bergensohn, first came, there were just more tests. The tests were different. Drawing blood, having various people come and examine me in ways I didn’t understand, asking me questions about the gifts Kalinsky had given me over time. How I liked them, how often I held them, did they ever make me feel strange, that kind of thing.
Then one day the tests stopped, and Bergensohn told me that I was ready for my operation. I was immediately scared, both because I wondered what was wrong that I needed an operation and because over the last two weeks I’d come to fear and hate the woman in a way I’d never felt about Kalinksy. It wasn’t that she’d ever hurt me. It was the way she looked at me. Like she wanted to hurt me. Wanted to hurt me very badly, and was looking forward to the day when she could.
That day, the day of the operation, was the worst of my life. I was strapped down to a metal table in a room I’d never been in before. Men in surgical gowns came in and gave me injections at five different spots—my arm, my upper leg, my stomach, my shoulder, and my chest. Local anesthetic, Bergensohn told me as she approached from the shadowy edge of the operating room. I was crying by then, begging for her to let me go, asking what she was going to do to me. She smiled her cold smile then and gestured to a nearby surgical tray. On the tray were all of my gifts from Kalinsky—the tiny dog, the metal spinning top, the brass bell, the strange rock, and of course, my mother’s locket. When I looked back at Bergensohn in confusion, she smirked at me.
“I’m just going to help you. Make sure you never lose these precious things no matter where you go.”
It was then that she picked up the scalpel next to the locket and began to work.
I woke up the next day, my entire body aching and my head feeling heavy and full. Looking down, I saw bandages covering the places where she’d cut me open, hollowed out pockets of my flesh, and sewn the gifts inside. I could feel them in there, not painful, but uncomfortable, a pressure I couldn’t escape or an itch I couldn’t scratch. I was already starting to hear and see new things then I think, but I ignored them. Instead I looked into the worried smile of Dr. Kalinsky as he leaned over my bed and gently held my hand.
“Go slow, Marie. Your body is going to take time to recover.” He glanced down at my bandages and then back to my face. “A-are you in much pain?”
I started to shake my head, but stopped when I felt the loose sogginess of it all, as though my brain was a house being washed away in a flood, its contents floating around and bumping together with every eddy and swirl. Swallowing, I whispered hoarsely instead. “I don’t think so. It just feels weird.” I felt tears coming to my eyes. “What did she do to me?”
Kalinksy let out a sigh as he avoided my gaze. For several moments he just stared off, and I began to wonder if he was going to respond at all. When his eyes found me again, the gaze there was not unkind, but carried the harder look he often had when we were in the middle of my tests.
“There are multiple worlds.”
M-m-many, many worlds, in fact. And in those worlds, there are multiple versions of many things, including us. The people that we work for are aware of this. They are aware of and capable of many things, including some degree of communication with some of these other worlds. They use their knowledge and their power to do what all people with knowledge and power tend to do. Acquire more.
In one of these other worlds, there is a man named Gregor Kaminksy. I’ve never met him, of course, as they’ve yet to successfully send anyone to or from this world, though not for lack of trying. But his work…well, his work is similar to much of my own into human consciousness, memory, and more esoteric matters such as the nature of the soul. That, of course, makes sense, as he is his world’s version of me.
I’ve seen photographs of him. Read his research notes countless times. They’ve provided me with unfettered access as they believe that by pooling together their resources across these worlds they can exponentially increase the yield of their discoveries while gaining greater control wherever they reach. And I would like to say I’ve been a productive component of this process, a necessary cog in their machinery, but I try not to lie to you, Marie. And in many ways, I am l-little more than a redundancy. A f-f-failure drifting in the wake of a smarter, more capable version of myself.
This Kaminsky had identified and isolated key elements of several processes associated with the human mind and soul, as well as the reproducible phenomena that some dead bodies undergo if they are not treated in certain ways. While this is comprised of at least thirty-seven different theories and working models, the people of the Kin usually refer to it by a singular crude and overly-simplistic moniker:
The Kaminsky Effect.
Put in terms a young girl like you might understand, this mirror version of me, this Kaminsky, has started the process of bridging the divide between the living and the dead. Communication and collaboration has already been achieved, but that work has already implicated much greater possibilities. That death is not merely a window into some shadowy afterlife, but rather a door into places of untapped potential.
And it is there, in that narrow margin between what Kaminsky has already accomplished and the vast amount he has yet to achieve, that I hoped to make my own mark, my own contribution. While some of his ideas are beyond me, I do understand all of the principles of his work, and my hope has been that any deficit of mine in comparative intellect might be overcome by creativity and drive.
That’s why I began this p-project in the first place. We’ve worked with people like you, special people that have special talents and sensitivities, for quite some time. But I began to wonder if I could find some way to marry one of those special people to the principles of the Kaminsky Effect, and in so doing, produce better or more unique results than my counterpart.
For several years I met only failure. My methods were too safe at first, and then too reckless. I was, I must admit, nearing the end of my benefactors’ patience, and they are not kind when they feel their resources and time are being wasted. But then I learned about you, and as I was still researching your family and your past, it came to my attention that your father was working in London as a behavioral psychologist for one of the companies my employers control. A happy coincidence or fate, but either way, it was not enough. Even if you were as special as I suspected, what was the point if all it resulted in was failure for me and your untimely death?
I let out a gasp and Kalinsky’s eyes went wide before narrowing into what he likely meant as a comforting smile. “I’m sorry. I have grown so comfortable around you, and unburdening myself like this, I tend to forget that you are still so young and have been through so much. My point is that I didn’t want to see you unnecessarily hurt or killed. And I wasn’t sure if there was any point in even taking you if I had no better path forward than my past failed experiments.” His smile faded away. “But then I became aware of Mrs. Bergensohn’s work and my thoughts on how to use her to enhance my own chances of real progress began to form.”
He frowned as he looked down at his hand holding mine. “She calls it Miasma. Her work is not scientific, of course, and much of it seems to be little more than supernatural hokum, but I cannot deny that whatever her names and methods, she does get results.”
I could feel my heart beating hard in my chest, and I wanted to pull my hand away from his, but I didn’t quite dare. He was my only tether, my only life raft in a sea of darkness. If I rejected him now, I might lose my only chance of ever escaping this place. Still, I wanted, needed, to know more. To understand what had been done and what was still planned. So keeping my voice small and timid, I gently broke in as he took a breath in speaking.
“What did she do to me?”
Kalinsky sighed and gave my hand a squeeze. “If you ask her, she would say that she bound several spirits—g-ghosts if you will—to your body. This was done by surgically implanting several tethers—objects that the individual ghosts were already haunting—into you.” Rubbing his other hand into his thin hair, he shook his head. “It’s insane sounding, I know. And I only began this path out of desperation, but I swear that there is great power in what she does. Power and a connection to some of the forces I’ve been trying to tap into for years.”
I was trying to pull free of him now. This was all crazy. Was he saying there were ghosts inside of me? I couldn’t trust him at all either. They were all insane and I was going to die in here and…I winced as he gripped my wrist more tightly, his face growing hard as he scowled at me.
“Do you think I like doing this to you? Causing you pain and risking losing someone of your ability?” He let go of my wrist almost disdainfully as he turned away with an offended sniff. “I assure you I do not. Aside from your value to the work, I’ve grown quite fond of you over time. I’ve never had a d-daughter, but I think I would love one no more than I do you.” He glanced back over his shoulder at me. “B-but the work requires sacrifice from us all. Surely you can see that.”
I was freely crying now, and not just because of what he was saying. I was starting to see things again. Future things. Terrible things.
“I…I’m going to die, aren’t I?”
Kalinsky turned back to me in his chair. “I hope not, Marie. I do. These ghosts…according to the woman, they will go insane, but in that insanity, that Miasma, there is great power. My hope is that one of your ability can control it. Use your terrific will to shape it into something this world has never seen before. That none of the worlds has ever seen before.”
I wiped my nose, the tubing running into my arm scratching my nostril, which somehow made me cry even harder. “No…No, I see it. They will…no, what you have done…it will kill me. And then you’ll bury me deep some place far away where I’m all alone.”
The fact that there were tears in Kalinksy’s eyes now only made it all more horrible. Lip trembling, he shook his head. “No, not if I can help it. A-and if you do die, you should know that death isn’t the end. Dying…especially for someone special like you? Dying just gives the body
“…over.”
I gasped against the dirty gravel of the railway track. I could still feel the wet ruin of the trash golem across my back, and I began to roll over and scrub myself, trying to get free of the worms that had been invading me before…what was that? I felt like I had lived years as someone else, a girl named Marie that had…had that been a dream or a memory or…?
Sitting up, I looked at the handful of red worms I’d pulled from under my shirt. They were clearly dead, withering to grey before breaking apart like thin lines of ash at the slightest motion. The thought of them touching me, of some of them possibly still being inside of me, made me want to vomit, but I forced the thought away as I stood up and shook my clothes free of more trails of grey powder. No time for that now. I had to get out of here.
I climbed up onto the platform with a grunt and began making my way to the stairs when I saw her. It was me…no, it was Marie. The girl I’d been in the dream. The girl they’d taken so long ago. How was she here? Silent and staring at me with an extended hand, I should have been terrified, but somehow I wasn’t. I could feel her sadness and her loneliness, her desperate need to have me understand…what? I didn’t know, but I found myself walking to her instead of the stairs. Bending down to take her small hand even as I felt her fingers begin to run like wax and melt into my skin. It was burning and crushing me, but it didn’t hurt really, just felt uncomfortable, like a pressure I couldn’t escape or an itch I can’t scratch. And then I was falling again, not into the dark, but into
…the lights of the truck flared brightly in the grey afternoon as it backed up into the clearing. I looked from it to the hole that had been dug a few feet away. They said it went down thirty feet. Just big enough for the box. Just big enough for Marie. Pain burning in my chest, I looked up at the man standing on the other side of the deep grave and tried to strike him dead with my glare. If not for his two armed escorts, I’d have already pitched him down that hole. It had been a month since he first contacted me, first told me about what he did to my Zelda and my Marie, and since then my anger and hatred of him had only grown. Seeming to sense my thoughts, Dr. Kalinsky offered me an apologetic smile.
“I know you must think very ill of me. The murder of your wife for one thing, though as I have said, that was not done out of any m-malice toward you or her. And then taking away your sweet Marie...” The bastard had the gall to actually start tearing up as he spoke. “She was well-treated, as I’ve told you, but our loss of her doesn’t make that…”
“No!” I felt my throat burn as I screamed out at him, and I saw his guards tense as they gripped their guns tighter. “You don’t get to talk about them like you care. Like you’re sorry. You murdered them!”
Kalinsky visibly paled as he shook his head, his usually faint accent growing thicker. “N-not true. Not true at all. Your wife, perhaps, but not Marie. Never Marie. I tried to keep her alive. And bless her, she fought too. But the…the Miasma was too much for her, you see?” A flicker of a smile came on his face. “Too much for her in life, at least, but that is what we are here to see, yes?”
I shook my head. “You’re insane. You’re all insane.”
The other man’s lip curled into a sneer. “And you are still agreeing to all this, yes? You could have continued to refuse. C-could have told us to go to hell, even if it meant your death. But instead, you’ve agreed to take this land and have your daughter buried here. Accepted your new position with us, with all the wealth and power and knowledge that entails. Why are you doing these things if we are just insane, bad men, eh?”
His words went into me like knives. He was right. I’d fought at first. Threatened to go to authorities in England and America. Threatened to find and kill them. But I’d known from the start they were just words. Known that however broken I was by losing Zelda and our daughter, however sad and scared I was in finding out Marie was dead, I was even more frightened of what these people might do to me. Lowering my gaze to the hole, I shook my head. “What choice did I have?”
Kalinksy’s voice was mocking now. “The same choice we all have. And you have made the right one. Because you’re smart and ambitious. Pragmatic. You see the n-necessity of sacrifice, don’t you?”
I forced myself to meet his eyes. “I guess you know me very well.”
The doctor inclined his head slightly. “Let’s just say I’ve worked with someone very similar in recent years. An outside consultant like you, but he shows great promise. Like you. I imagine they’ll be putting you two in touch before long.”
“Yeah, sure.” I was only half paying attention as I watched them start lowering a large steel box down into the grave. My voice sounded soft and thin when I spoke next. “Is…is that my little girl?”
“It is, technically, but she’s so much more than you might remember or know. Think of this not as your daughter, but as a seed. A seed of potential that you will guard as part of your work for now.”
Swallowing, I wiped at my cheek. “Why me? Why wouldn’t you just keep her?”
Kalinsky shook his head. “Our experts think that things will go much better if she’s close to someone she loves and knows well. Be less volatile. And despite my fondness for Marie, I cannot truly take her father’s place. All you have to do is come out here every day as your new work allows. It may be this place just stays as a normal clearing in these fifty acres of woods. Or it m-may…change over time. You just report your experiences out here and we’ll take care of the rest. Do you understand?”
I barely felt like I could breathe, but I still managed to nod. Below us, I heard a soft thud as the coffin reached the bottom of the grave. Fresh tears sprang to my eyes and I turned away to stare at the trees as my vision began to blur. I heard Kalinsky cluck sympathetically behind me.
---
Credits
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