Phantoms

presence.” Her gaze roamed over the lab. “The air seems thicker—don’t you think? And colder. It’s as if something’s going to… materialize right here in front of us.”
    Bryce knew what she meant.
    Tal caught Bryce’s eye and nodded. He felt it, too.
    However, Bryce was certain that what they felt was entirely a subjective sensation. Nothing was really going to materialize. The air wasn’t actually thicker than it had been a minute ago; it just seemed thicker because they were all tense, and when you were rigid with tension, it was just naturally somewhat more difficult to draw your breath. And if the air was colder… well, that was only because the night was coming.
    The computer screens went blank. Then: WHEN IS HE COMING?
    Sara typed, CLARIFY.
    WHEN IS THE EXORCIST COMING?
    “Christ,” Tal said. “What is this?”
    CLARIFY, Sara typed.
    TIMOTHY FLYTE.
    “I’ll be damned,” Jenny said.
    “It knows this Flyte character,” Tal said. “But how? And is it after him—or what?”
    ARE YOU AFRAID OF FLYTE?
    STUPID BITCH.
    ARE YOU AFRAID OF FLYTE? she persisted, undeterred.
    I AM AFRAID OF NOTHING.
    WHY ARE YOU INTERESTED IN FLYTE?
    I HAVE DISCOVERED THAT HE KNOWS.
    WHAT DOES HE KNOW?
    ABOUT ME.
    “Evidently,” Bryce said, “we can rule out the possibility that Flyte is just another hustler.”
    Sara tapped the keys: DOES FLYTE KNOW WHAT YOU ARE?
    YES. I WANT HIM HERE.
    WHY DO YOU WANT HIM HERE?
    HE IS MY MATTHEW.
    CLARIFY.
    HE IS MY MATTHEW, MARK, LUKE AND JOHN.
    Frowning, Sara paused, glanced at Bryce. Then her fingers flew over the keys again: DO YOU MEAN THAT FLYTE IS YOUR APOSTLE?
    NO. HE IS MY BIOGRAPHER. HE CHRONICLES MY WORK. I WANT HIM TO COME HERE.
    DO YOU WANT TO KILL HIM TOO?
    NO. I WILL GRANT HIM SAFE PASSAGE.
    CLARIFY.
    YOU WILL ALL DIE. BUT FLYTE WILL BE ALLOWED TO LIVE. YOU MUST TELL HIM. IF HE DOES NOT KNOW THAT HE HAS SAFE PASSAGE, HE WILL NOT COME.
    Sara’s hands were shaking worse than ever. She missed a key, hit a wrong letter, had to cancel out and start over again. She asked: IF WE BRING FLYTE TO SNOWFIELD, WILL YOU LET US LIVE?
    YOU ARE MINE.
    WILL YOU LET US LIVE?
    NO.
    Thus far, Lisa had been braver than her years. However, seeing her fate spelled out so bluntly on a computer display was too much for her. She began to cry softly.
    Jenny comforted the girl as best she could.
    “Whatever it is,” Tal said, “it sure is arrogant.”
    “Well, we’re not dead yet,” Bryce told them. “There’s hope. There’s always hope as long as we’re still alive.”
    Sara used the keyboard again: WHERE ARE YOU FROM?
    TIME IMMEMORIAL.
    CLARIFY.
    BORING BITCH.
    ARE YOU EXTRATERRESTRIAL?
    NO.
    “So much for Isley and Arkham,” Bryce said, before realizing that Isley and Arkham were already dead and gone.
    “Unless it’s lying,” Jenny said.
    Sara retyped a question she had posed earlier. WHAT ARE YOU?
    YOU BORE ME.
    WHAT ARE YOU?
    STUPID SLUT.
    WHAT ARE YOU?
    FUCK OFF.
    WHAT ARE YOU? She typed again, pounding at the keys so hard that Bryce thought she might break them. Her anger appeared to have outgrown her fear.
    I AM GLASYALABOLAS.
    CLARIFY.
    THAT IS MY NAME. I AM A WINGED MAN WITH THE TEETH OF A DOG. I FOAM AT THE MOUTH. I HAVE BEEN CONDEMNED TO FOAM AT THE MOUTH FOR ALL ETERNITY.
    Bryce stared at the display, uncomprehending. Was it serious? A winged man with the teeth of a dog? Surely not. It must be playing with them, amusing itself again. But what was so amusing about this?
    The screen went blank.
    A pause.
    New words appeared, even though Sara had asked no question.
    I AM HABORYM. I AM A MAN WITH THREE HEADS—ONE HUMAN, ONE CAT, ONE SERPENT.
    “What’s this crap all about?” Tal asked, frustrated.
    The air in the room was definitely colder.
    Only the wind, Bryce told himself. The wind at the door, bringing the coolness of the oncoming night.
    I AM RANTAN.
    Blink.
    I AM PALLANTRE.
    Blink.
    I AM AMLUTIAS, ALFINA, EPYN, FUARD, BELIAL, OMGORMA, NEBIROS, BAAL, ELIGOR, AND MANY OTHERS.
    The strange names glowed on all three screens for a moment, then winked off.
    I AM ALL AND NONE. I AM NOTHING. I AM EVERYTHING.
    Blink.
    The trio of video displays shone brightly, greenly, blankly for a second, two, three. Then went dark.
    The overhead lights came on.
    “End of interview,” Jenny said.
     
    Belial . That was one of the names it had given itself.
    Bryce was not an ardently religious man, but he was sufficiently well-read to know that Belial was either another name