Not by Dark Alone

THE SUMMONS

HER HANDS WERE a blur they moved so fast — trying hard to keep up with her thoughts. I could see her emotions chase one another, from one eye facet to another, from one eye to the other.

Receptionist (How can you do that? How is it possible? Aren’t you Dark?)

All movement in the Great Hall of Administration ceased. What had been but moments before a hive of activity was now a great light-filled space full of statues. The hand movements our species makes to help shape thought, all stopped. I waited and watched as colored spots lit up the Receptionist’s skin and her eye facets flickered. The Receptionist glanced around. I noted movement begin again.

Her anger wasn’t directed towards me. Well, not all of it. It’s often like this, the reaction of others to my disability. Those not disabled as I am often feel diminished by what I can do.

I signed for calm, the suggestion of a compensating gift, a hint of forgiveness. Her embarrassment was almost palpable, and I saw exactly when she remembered the insult — Dark. I watched her emotions flow over and through her. Sometimes I feel grateful that I cannot experience the thoughts and emotions of others the way she did. This way of dealing with her, and those like her, is exhausting enough.

I signaled readiness and a question: Why had I been summoned? With an effort that must have been painful, it certainly was painful to watch, she pulled herself together. I also caught the hint of her being reprimanded by someone unseen.

Receptionist (Please enter. The Administrator is ready for you now.)

She signed the most abject apology I have seen since, well, the one two days ago. Dealing with others of my species could often be tiring.

I gestured my thanks, moved past her, and entered the cavernous office of the Administrator who’d summoned me.

~~~

It was dark in the office, darker than these places tend to be. Ironic in a way, given that I was to meet Administrator Dawn. I suppose you could think of him as brightening up the gloom of his office. He didn’t.

He rose to meet me and gestured welcome. His signing was precise. A disciplined body suggesting a mind accustomed to managing detail.

I signed gratitude for his graciousness and continued in the formal manner.

Me (Is there some service I may render your honor?)

He gestured for me to sit and dedicated some time to arranging information on his desktop. Images flickered into and out of view. I took the opportunity to look around, to view the environment where I was to deal with this Administrator. The more information I can gather, when it doesn’t look like I’m gathering information, the greater advantage I have.

A massive desk with an angled desktop. It seemed a little out of the league of the person in front of me, at least at first blush. I wondered what that might mean. Off in one corner, just at the edge of the Administrator’s range of vision, a small screen played the light pattern of a well-known musician’s early work. So, our Administrator favored the older styles of music rather than those now in fashion with the young. Given the stresses of the job and the title of Administrator, no less might be expected.

Shelving behind the desk held volumes of documents. Some were even of the older single-use paper variety though others, the majority, were electronic.

Again, this seemed out of the range of the Administrator Dawn in front of me.

He looked at me, and I began to pay close attention. Perhaps now I might find answers to the increasing number of questions that were presenting themselves.

Administrator (You know why you are here?)

I signed the negative with an emphasis stressing the absence of any reason, to my knowledge, that would bring me here. For any reason I should find myself in the office of such an obviously important and senior Administrator. He preened.

That’s all it took. Whatever he might communicate ceased to be of interest. It had absolutely nothing to do with my being here and probably little to do with what was wanted of me.

The good Administrator Dawn was simply a test. A test of me. A test of whatever ability his Superiors thought I might possess.

~~~

I could see all this in the flickering light of his eye facets, how he seemed incapable of holding my gaze. He was concentrating mightily to ensure his hands communicated what was clearly at odds with what he knew, insofar as he might know, was the truth. The skin around his eyes and towards the bridge of his nose tightened in the oddest way when he came to a part of his exposition that was particularly at variance with reality.

While he was not focusing on me, I took the opportunity to glance around to see if I could detect the surveillance devices I knew had to be present.

We weren’t alone in this interview. There was at least one other party, quite likely the good Administrator’s Superior. That was the person I’d been summoned to meet. The man in front of me was just the gatekeeper.

I let him continue until he ran down. It was possible I missed something in what he said that pertained to what they wanted of me. But I knew I’d receive a full briefing when this little game was over. It wasn’t over yet, partly because I wasn’t finished playing. If they were going to spring a surprise test on me, the least they could do was allow me to have a little fun.

I hinted to the Administrator that I was paying attention but felt I’d need a little more information before I fully understood the situation and what was demanded of me.

Me (Would you mind continuing your most excellent presentation?)

The conflicting expressions that flickered through his eyes were priceless. I was glad I’d learned over the years to control such telltale signs. If I hadn't, he’d know just how funny I found his reactions.

He launched into further details and, with a little prodding here and there, I managed to push him into depths of detail that no Administrator, certainly not the occupant of an office such as this, would have the time or patience to grasp. He ran down again after awhile and looked at me.

Me (An impressive presentation, Administrator. You show an astonishing grasp of the minutiae of this project, well beyond the reach of one bearing such a lofty title.)

His face lit up. It was very bad of me because I next suggested that, while I now had a grasp of the details of the task, I still lacked an overall understanding of the situation and exactly what my role might be, why I’d been chosen.

Just as Administrator Dawn was about to launch into another flood of detail I hinted, with as much tact as I could muster, at a request for someone who might have an overview of the project, a higher-level take on the situation.

It was criminal. Administrator Dawn simply deflated before my eyes. He was preparing a response when a door behind him opened and an imposing individual surrounded by a troop of Underlings entered the room.

CHAPTER TWO

THE PROBLEM REVEALED

THE NEWCOMER’S EYES took in the whole situation in an instant. My interviewer jumped to his feet, almost falling over himself getting out of the chair that without doubt belonged to his Superior. I stood more slowly and gave the new arrival my full attention.

He was tall, taller than normal, even for us. His deep-set eyes were shaded by his brow-ridge. This would make him a little more difficult to read. Things were about to get interesting.

Administrator (Please accept our apologies for the small deception. Forgive us. It was necessary to ensure we understood everything we needed to.)

I could detect no remorse for the deception in his manner. I signed a hint of understanding and was amused to note my lack of forgiveness was noticed. The Underlings all reacted to this but froze into inactivity at what I can only surmise was an order for calm from my real interviewer.

He gestured toward my seat and I sat. He took his place behind his desk and glanced briefly at my previous interviewer whose face turned a riot of color. A curt dismissal followed, with a suggestion that what had transpired would be further examined. The hapless individual left the room — accompanied by most of the Underlings. Two remained, taking positions several paces behind the desk.

Communication among our species is a form of dance. The lead is traded back and forth among the partners, the nuances often highlighted in gestures and subtle changes in our eyes. I suspected this Administrator was going to tax my communication skills beyond what was usual.

I turned my full attention back to him.

Administrator (I am Dawn.)

Just a family name, I noted, no hint of familiarity in this interview.

Dawn (You do understand. That was necessary.)

This was not a question.

Me (Yes) I signed understanding but added (…I must ask why one might believe it necessary.)

I saw the expression in his eyes as he realized I didn’t believe it was necessary, only that I understood he believed it to be so. He was not someone who was used to being resisted.

He waved my question away. I wouldn’t get any answer to this question, at least not directly.

Me (Very well. I would like to know why I’ve been summoned here.)

I’d barely finished my request when Administrator Dawn began. I was going to have to work at liking him. He wasn’t making it easy.

Dawn (A problem has arisen. A small outpost, Research, Defender.)

I caught the inference. Defender, Research. These spelled secret. Off the usual maps. Out of the public eye.

Me (Research? Of…)

Administrator Dawn closed. He was remarkably capable of removing any hint of thought or emotion from his eyes. This wouldn’t be a profitable line of investigation for me. But it did clarify the test. Defenders, and those of their Research specialization, were notorious for their efforts to control information. In a society such as ours, those efforts could tend toward the extreme.

Me (I understand. Such Research is not usually performed along the standard cruise line itineraries. Problems such as may have arisen are even more scarce in the general view.)

This brought the closest thing to an amused expression I had seen so far on Administrator Dawn’s face.

Dawn (Thank you for your understanding, both of my position and the need for discretion.)

I paid close attention. His demeanor suggested we were coming to the center of the matter.

~~~

Dawn (There has been a communication problem at the Research station.)

I allowed surprise to show. If there was something our people did not have, it was a problem with communication. Were we to be honest about it, many of our problems throughout history stemmed from far too much communication.

I looked at the Administrator.

Me (Is that the problem? Too much communication? Or the threat or danger of too much?)

Realization dawned on the Administrator’s face and, only for a fleeting moment, a hint of respect.

Dawn (The population was small. Just sufficient to perform the tasks assigned to them. Controlling the flow of information was important. You understand.)

I signed understanding with a request that he continue.

Dawn (They had been trained intensively in all aspects of mental control. Far more than is usual for the general population.)

As is usual for Defenders, I thought. I suppressed a wave of concern.

Dawn (Is there a problem?)

Damn, he was good. He’d had some of his own training. I waved his question away and indicated he should continue. At the same time I tightened control over my expression.

Dawn (Something happened. An accident. I cannot go into details. There’s no longer any threat from the accident. But the majority of the Researchers are dead.)

Again I caught the inference. The dead were no longer of concern. What killed them was no longer a danger. The remaining Researchers were the problem, the threat.

Dawn (We have tried to reach them. We sent Communicators to learn what had happened and report back. It did not end well. What we have learned is the Researchers are mad.)

I closed my eyes for a moment in a gesture of respect for such tragedy. Once I opened them again I looked directly at the Administrator.

Me (I understand why I am here. The remaining Researchers are too few to form a Group?)

Dawn (Yes. We tried to send more, enough for a critical mass. Carriers too. But it did not help. They have been alone for too long.)

Me (Insufficient light.)

I used the symbol that is rooted deep in our culture, our social memory. All of our symbols for fear share this as their root. As does madness.

Dawn (And you—)

Me (I am Dark.)

He had the good grace to allow a hint of distaste to be visible, but he again signed the affirmative. Because the Researchers would not be able to see me, I would be unaffected by their madness. But what then?

~~~

Dawn (Your training. Your skill. Your acquired life lessons in dealing with…insufficient light. These are what we hope you’ll be able to use, to teach.)

Me (Life lessons take a lifetime to learn. You are unlikely to give me that much time to achieve your goal. Which is?)

Administrator Dawn gestured in the negative.

Dawn (No. The time is less than any would prefer. We’ve already tried twice and failed. With your abilities, we are hopeful you will succeed.)

He allowed admiration and respect to bleed into his gestures. I knew enough not to be taken in.

Dawn (We need you to make it safe for us to evacuate them.)

Me (Without harm coming to them?)

Dawn gestured affirmatively.

Dawn (Without harm.)

I gestured a question about duration.

Dawn (Of the Researchers in their condition, a month. Of your involvement, less time than that until success — or until another solution is employed.)

I caught the hint that another solution would be a grim one for the remaining Researchers. Possibly even for me were I still there. A month. Long enough for psychosis to set in but, on the brighter side, not long enough to be unrecoverable.

The Administrator interrupted my thinking.

Dawn (Anything you might discover while at the facility or working with the Researchers will be subject to the strictest confidentiality protocols. Defender protocols, as you may know, are stricter than more common forms.)

He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. I wasn’t stupid, and he knew that. Defenders take their secrets to the grave. They expect those entrusted with them to do the same. I had no wish to hasten my own trip there.

Me (When does this task begin?)

Dawn (It has already begun.)

No surprise there.

Dawn (Know that your existing work assignments have been taken care of. Your students are already meeting with their new Instructors. The research you were to begin will await your return.)

There was no hint in all of this, or in anything he let slip, that a negative response from me was possible. In fairness, the challenge appealed to me. They’d done their homework. They knew it would.

~~~

Administrator Dawn stood. The interview was over. I stood also, and the Underlings opened the door through which they’d entered. Dawn gestured to me to precede him. So, I’d entered by one door and, should anyone be watching, never exited again. If everything went bad, I had simply vanished.

Other Underlings were waiting. I was handed a case I recognized as my small traveling bag. I was also given a slim electronic folder. I suspected it contained all the information they had, and that I was permitted to see, on the situation at the Research site. I’d have time during the trip to review it.

I turned to bid the Administrator farewell, but he’d already turned away. From the look on Ersatz-Dawn’s face they were already examining his earlier