Work Text:
TRENTHAM ARCHIVES
TOP SECRET - DO NOT SHARE
ADMIRALS' EYES ONLY
The following excerpts were datamined by a Sub Rosa Cohort Intelligence Unit from electronic materials excavated at the Canaan House facility following the incident that resulted in Third and Ninth House lyctorhood. The author claims to be the mayor of a site named Greytown - this was initially assumed as an enemy position, but a reading of the text suggests it was in fact located on the pre-Resurrection First House.
TEXT FOLLOWS:
June
It's been a bad week. I'd just come out of a meeting with the Arts Committee people about the new gallery when Secretary Craig told me to check the news. There were headlines in every national media outlet and already several overseas. "Funding Pulled For Greytown Lab Cryogenics Project."
"Bugger," I said, because I knew it meant lost days fielding journalists, no matter how hard I delegated.
Some blighter had leaked what they were doing at Gaia Technologies Inc. to the press. Up until then, the lab coats had been no trouble at all - the concrete facility was unsightly, but it was out in the sticks with no one to see it but the cows. And it meant we could put "cutting-edge research" on all the brochures. There weren't any local jobs in it, alas - as far as I could tell there were only three or four of them working up there. Friendly enough except for the pink-haired one, and at least their cappuccino Tuesdays and so forth gave a little boost for the town economy.
I won't lie - there was a certain pride in knowing that 3% of the country's electricity was diverted to my town. But it was absolutely not worth the storm that's now on the way.
The whole world has taken the news about secret cryogenics research as a signal for panic. If they're trying to store us in freezers, it means things are really bad, they reckon. The global economy tanked overnight - everywhere but Greytown thank God. We're doing just fine thanks to our sudden notoriety and the influx of journos braying for me to comment.
Did I know that Greytown was harbouring a kill switch, a doomsday project, a harbinger of the end times? Did I hell. I thought they were working on actual freezers.
"Greytown boasts some of the most picturesque small-town streets in the country," I keep repeating. "We're known for our independent artisanal shops, livestock farming, and our Cobblestone Museum that celebrates local heritage. We were New Zealand's Most Beautiful Small Town 2017."
Blank faces. "But do you support putting the entire human population to sleep?" they ask. "Or just a part of it?"
July
Just when the media storm had calmed - if Greytown was Archduke Ferdinand, then World War One is in full swing elsewhere - now my constituents are freaking out.
No one minded when it was only some lab coats in a sterile concrete facility out of sight. But now everyone knows they had bodies in jars, and it makes them understandably anxious. The people from the gallery are asking pointed questions.
Secretary Craig said three days ago he was accosted by old man Thompson with a mad story about a walking corpse near the compound. Mrs Leggerty next door says her grandson buried his pet hamster last week, only to find it yesterday in pristine condition, no sign of decomposition. And this morning I've got a report from the constabulary about disinterments at various graveyards in the region. A public report. All the regular kooks - Thompson, Anders, Patel - are pestering me with complaints about Unnatural goings on. As if we didn't have it bad enough with the Natural goings on already.
So I decided it couldn't hurt to pay the lab coats a visit.
The scowling pink-haired lady met me at the door and immediately protested that they had permission to still be in the building, before I'd even said anything. I tried to ask if they knew anything about strange phenomena, and she got even more defensive - she was blatantly lying when she attempted denial.
The tall blond man appeared and tried to soothe her, which made her angrier. "I'm afraid we're as clueless as anyone," he said, suavely. But his reassuring tone was undercut by the fact that he was wearing a dressing gown.
"Are you...living here?" I asked, appalled.
"Just a few late nights," he muttered. "Nothing unseemly." But now it was clear that he was lying too.
I thought I saw a humanish shape lurch past in the room behind them. It did not move in the way a human should move, but I only caught a glimpse before another man ran past after it. I just had time to hear him shout "look what I've got Ulysses to do now!" before the other two shut the door in my face, horrified, like they'd been caught with ...a dead body.
But it wasn't the lurching shape that stayed with me as I drove back into town. It was the man chasing it. I'd caught a glimpse of his eyes in a mirror on the wall, and they were gleaming: bright gold.
August
Well, I didn't have to wait long to find out what was really going on at Gaia Technologies. The bleeding reprobates put it on a livestream. The Council is up in arms, the whole town is muttering, and there's only so much sweet talking I can force Secretary Craig to do for me. Most of them think it's some kind of extremely bad-taste hoax, and I'm trying my hardest not to think about the shape I saw with my own eyes.
After the leak about the cryo research, this is strike two, and everyone wants to know what I'm going to do about it, like they're expecting me to start passing out pitchforks for a good old-fashioned castle storming. I try telling them that the cops aren't going to show up for a CGI video, and more publicity would be the last thing we want anyway. Plus, we've already got dozens of tourists out of it, and the hotels and restaurants are thrilled.
Good news though - looks like the gallery might still be interested after all. As long as we can stop them from linking the videos to us, maybe we'll be fine.
September
Just when I thought it couldn't get any weirder, the golden-eyed lab coat started curing cancer. Zombies or not, this really is starting to feel like an apocalypse. The whole town is swimming in outsiders flown in from every part of the world - most of them are camping up by the facility, but they have to come in for supplies and so on. Most of the shops are empty - haven't seen toilet roll in days. The gallery deal is mega dead. But at least I can't blame myself.
Gaia Technologies is officially a cult now, according to the government and the UN. More like a music festival if you ask me - less Jonestown and more Jonestropolis, or Jonesapalooza. Think Grateful Dead meets Life of Brian, but as a whole shantytown in a sheep field - and not a penny paid in permits, I might add. The miracle worker has added people from the Vatican and a hedge fund to his coterie, which is the scariest thing of all, in my book.
It's only a matter of time now before the army arrives - I never thought I'd say this, but I'd welcome them at this point. I'm terrified about what's going to be left of Greytown when this is all over. At least if there's only rubble, we'll still have our enduring cattle industry.
October
Oh God. Oh God.
January
It looks like this might be the end. Melbourne is gone, and the news says the rest of us are minutes away.
Yesterday I went down to the park for the first time since I quit as Mayor after the...dome...
The whole place is nothing but mud and refuse since the crowds passed through. But somehow the nice bench survives, and the inscription is still legible.
"Only God can make a Tree."
I'd always thought that was rather trite. But this time I noticed that there was in fact a tree sticking up through the mud behind the bench - or at least a little sapling with a single delicate bloom sprouting from a slender branch. I moved closer, thinking to smell the flower. But only when I leaned in did I notice - the damn thing had tee
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