Free Behold a Dark Mirror by Theophilus Axxe Page A

thrown off their shelves, lay scattered on the floor amid a large spill of blue powder.  A canister of acid dumped in a drain left an acrid smell in the air, which the ventilation system was still fighting.  All packages of stored equipment had been opened, all gear vandalized as if with malicious intent.  Fragile machinery tossed on the floor was shattered and wasted, electronics disemboweled.  From a ripped bag, a heavy mound of sandy material spilled onto three sets of feather-like analytical scales.  Jenus looked away.
    The rest of the lab was in the same condition.  Cabinets had been opened and emptied onto the floor.  Drawers searched.  Equipment and supplies vandalized.  Years of work were splattered on the floor and the walls.
    The moan.  This time he heard it.
    The sound came from behind a bench.  Jenus pulled his electrogun and strode through the main corridor, stepping on crackling glass and kicking empty boxes.
    He found the bastard, but his gun didn't raise for the kill.  Rather, his arms fell.  He stood and watched.
    A powerful sensation gathered strength underneath his stomach.  It mulled, grew, stretched to his limbs, then started pushing upwards against his diaphragm.  Once.  Twice.  The third irresistible time Jenus leaned over a sink and threw up.
    He could not have thought of a worse punishment.  A naked body lay on the floor, hands tied behind the back.  The skin had been so burnt by chemicals that Jenus had to guess the body was a man's.  The head was covered with a black sack that stunk mightily.  The poor bastard was blind and deaf by now.
    Jenus gargled with water from a bench faucet, rinsed his mouth, gulped a clear fresh mouthful, washed his face, and approached the almost-corpse.
    He tapped the body with the tip of his shoe.  The thing had a faint convulsion, and started ranting as if trying to say something.  Jenus overcame his revulsion and put his ears closer to the black sack, being careful not to touch it.
    "M... al...n."  The body uttered.  "Am...tl... p.  Ch... ch," on and on.
    Jenus moved away from the whimpering creature, to the medicine shelf where looked through the debris.  After a gulp from the tonic bottle that happened into his hands, he took an anesthetic patch, walked back to the thing, and applied it on a forearm of the body, which shivered at the contact.  He should have shot the bastard instead, ending his misery.
    He walked to the lobby, where the kernels looked normal under the circumstances.  He ran a self-test on the frameposts.  In minutes the computer spit out its diagnosis.  All three kernels had been disabled using a privilege-2 security code.
    Enabling them was easy.  However, a privilege-2 security code is private:  only Jenus and ConSEnt's maintenance had access to it.  In fact, he never remembered it, just kept it—in the lab's safe!
    Jenus ran to his office, which was in the same condition as anything else.  He moved the polarized pane hiding the safe.  Besides some classified technical data, there was little of general interest inside, except for a gun and some cash.  The safe opened to his fingerprint and voice tag.  The other two means of access were the ID prints of Gus, or the combined prints of the lab's commercial and technical directors.
    The quasi-metal door looked sound;  the inside was untouched, everything was there.  But a little card said:  "Do not play with us, Dr. Dorato."
    Treason!
    He yelled at the walls, his arms clamped alongside his body.  With a titanic effort he stopped, breathed once, twice more deeply.  The third time he was in charge of himself, his brewing lust for violence stowed away, hidden deep and ready for recall when vengeance could exact its toll.  He transcribed the privilege-2 security code and closed the safe.
    After enabling the frameposts, Jenus picked up the phone, called Gus, told him to come, redialed.
    "Hello," said the phone.  "This is the emergency response line, Civil Defense