Through all his later lives, his first always remained an amazement to him. Appearing on the soil of Earth, miraculously, unbidden was a gift he swore he would not relinquish. He spent his entire original life in pursuit of existence.
At first his work was supported by a patron of unlimited power and blind evil. His work was not hindered by constraints of any kind. Human life was just one more commodity for him to work with, and amazing strides were made in those early years. His ancient patron believed the research was intended, not for the good doctor's benefit but for his own. But when the powers allied against his master broke his armies and then forced death upon him, the doctor had already fled to the other side of the world, to continue his work with another terrified old man searching for the road to eternity.
He voyaged to Argentina, leaving a trail through Brazil for he knew there would be many people searching for him, seeking vengeance. He needed to be well hidden to finish his task.
It was easy for him to find another patron to support his work. They seemed made of one mold, each of them wishing for eternal life. Each of them believing they could have it. From there his experiments continued. Ten years, twenty; measured in lab experiments of an ever more complex and vicious nature. Soon he realized that to prolong the length of the human life was not something he could accomplish. Abruptly he shifted his research towards a much more promising direction; transference.
Peeled layers of light were scraped from his vision. Electricity was pulled from the tips of his fingers inward towards his gut and spine, spun there briefly then rushed and expunged from the husk of his age. In the pause of wire, he would swear (if asked), he had tasted the tang of copper. Then a reversal: the same spinning of electricity and thin sheets of light lain upon him. He opened the eyes of his new body, there was no recollection of the bodies recent occupant, although it had been told it would remain. The doctor knew his presence would obliterate the original owner's, it was the safest way to ensure the completeness of his persona.
Within a week all who knew of his work were dead and the lab melted to slag.
The evening of December Thirty One, 1999 was a play of chaotic beauty. Joe wandered the streets of New York absorbing the scene spilling around him. The bitter cold of the night was held aloft by the press of reveling humanity. Steam of breath filled the spaces between bodies. They were reveling for the end of an age. Some were praying for their savior, some for their redeemer, some for the death of both. They all were celebrating something. They were all celebrating an exodus. Whether they were leaving the age of miracles or the age of horror, there was no agreement.
It was during his second life that the millennia came to an end.
Simplicity was achieved in stages. By the 2005, when he had found his second host, he had shrunk the necessary apparatus down to the size of an ordinary laptop. Fifty years later it was the size of a small wallet.
During his fourth life the tragic story of the doomed first colonization of mars took place. Captain Grady and his forty brave explorers and the catastrophes that befell them, one after another. Each raised hope dashed, all of it spread before the waiting masses on their nightly news. Finally the last message sent by the only person left alive, lieutenant Carol Walker. Alone in a small store room, the oxygen generators had finally failed and the remaining twelve had died quite rapidly. Within a three day period, their numbers dwindled until only Carol remained. Her heartfelt message to her family back on the Earth was the most watched TV event in the history of the medium.
Her death happened in prime time.
The weak signal continued for six days, broadcast on its' own cable channel. You could tune in and see the grisly scene of death for almost a week, commercial free. The batteries broadcasting from Mars finally let out.
He lived in Bangkok for a lifetime, by now the motives he possessed in his first life had been left behind, he realized that he had separated himself from the rest of humanity. In essence he had become a race of one.
It was there during the fourth transference that some spillage occurred for the first time.
He woke this time looked down upon his previous form and heard two voices within his head. The other was faint, but it was there, he could feel it cordoning off a section of his brain, walling him off. It realized he was an invader, but was unable to fight him for he was the stronger presence. They eyed each other through the heavy substance of tissue and both held themselves back. But to the doctor it was a game, he would find a way to erase the other. It would be a challenge to explore how.
They had years to compete. For now he must complete the disposal of his previous form.
He never found out why his device malfunctioned.
"We should not continue killing people to continue our own existence."
"What do you know about what I should do?! You will not be with me for long."
"You are wrong Mengele, I must be here, I must remain so that I can eventually end our life."
The fifth life restructuring that he accomplished went cleanly, except his conscience followed him across to the new body.
Great colony ships were built during his seventh life. Captain Saamel Tooke commanded the first vessel. For years they traveled, taking almost ten years to finally leave the solar system. The original designers died. The first generation of colonists aboard brought forth the second and they the third. He followed their progress through his eighth, ninth and tenth lives. Beyond that the solar wind and distance jammed any radio contact from them.
At the time of last contact, they no longer cared what became of the solar system, they no longer had any connection to the Earth. He found himself having a greater kinship with the cocoon of people a light-year away than with the teeming humanity surrounding him.
The smile rolled across Sophia's face. Ecstasy bounced around behind her eyes, as she thought, I love him. Sex was always best in the morning, beneath the red glow of Mars from the windows of their room. Soon now it would be over, but for now she could imagine anything. Everything was complete, everything was perfect. She opened her green eyes and looked down, through her fine hair hanging down, upon her man. His eyes were closed also, his smile was as full as hers. She closed her eyes again and arched her back.
They were rushing now towards the finish. She felt his hands roaming across her back, caressing her muscles. Roaming and roaming, across her shoulder blades, one hand now on her neck pulling her back down for a kiss. She allowed their lips to approach each other slowly, enticingly.
As they met, light shattered from her eyes, turning all in front of her into purple and silver. Pain shot from the back of her head. Blackness descended behind the light.
Nothing.
Blackness. Noiselessness.
Sophia tried to open her eyes as wide as she could. There was no light at all. Trying as hard as she could to pick up even the faintest shade of gray. There was nothing.
"Where am I?"
She could see nothing.
Then quietly, with smoothness and calm, another voice answered. She heard it coming from somewhere in front of her.
*Sophia, you are in a new home within the old.*
"How did you know my name? Who are you? Why can't I see anything?"
The other voice sounded very close, like someone whispering in her ear.
*My name is Michael. You cannot see for your eyes have been taken from you as has the rest of you. All that remains is a weak presence. You and I are pressed here together, into a small, unused corner of your mind. Just several rooms of the house if you will.*
"What do you mean taken? Who did this to me? Did you do this to me?"
*No I did not. You know the person, or at least thought you knew him. Tell me, what are the last things you remember?*
Images flew to her mind of the night recently passed. She smiled inwardly but said nothing.
*Ahh...Sophia, he was not who he said he was.*
Startled she replied. "Who do you mean?"
*The man I saw in your imaging. You don't really know him but you will come to see his life through your eyes, because they are no longer yours.*
"Why are you here?"
*Because I am wrapped up in his nightmare wanderings and cannot escape. His dance of death has clasped me tightly in its' spin and now you are twisting there with me.*
She started to back away, but couldn't move away from his presence. A scream traveled up and out from her center. She felt herself inhaling breath for the wail, felt herself open her eyes. Still she could see nothing.
*STOP! You'll wake him.*
The scream died burbling into to tears.
*He sleeps. The death he has escaped drained him terribly. It will be some time now before he wakes. We must be quick for there will not be many opportunities for us to converse without him overhearing. You have stumbled into the most terrible of tales, Sophia, but we still have hope. Our hope will lie in concealment. If he does not know that you have survived intact, we might have a chance of killing him. I have examined the transference process, there is a weakness. There is one chance. One crack.*
Years passed.
Together they would watch the rest of humanity as it populated the outer solar system. Each planet would provide some important material for the ever expanding sea of humans. As Mars was domesticated it provided an ideal launching platform to the other planets. The asteroid belt was explored and extensively mined. Soon Jupiter's moons: Io, Ganymede and Europa were landed upon. Saturn's, Uranus's and Neptune's followed. Further they went. Leaping out of the system entirely.
They brought with them other creatures to help them. Dolphins farming fish and plankton in the oceans under Europa, feeding the entire outer system. Sentient Chimpanzees side by side with humans, mining the great rocks of the belt. As many different kinds of plants as a spaceship or planet could hold. Cats, rats, lizards, birds, insects and microbes too numerous to count. Humanity had reached a critical mass stage. Knowledge, territory, population, diversity, religions. The whole biosphere of Earth had been increased to the size of the entire system and beyond.
Through this age of miracles the three of them lived as symbiots. Mengele depended on the Michael for his amusement, the game of cat and mouse becoming one of his only pleasures in life.
Michael depended on Sophia for truth and hope. He feared that he was beginning to enjoy the game of wits with the good doctor too much, forgetting the real purpose to his existence.
Sophia depended on Michael to lead her through the tangled weave of neurons that made up her mind. Without him she would have been discovered. Their plan revolved around her existence being a secret from Joseph.
"Michael, my body is dying."
*I know, we must be ready. He will not give us much warning this time.*
*He has made no preparation, no stalking, no building of friendships. I fear this one will be a stranger. Quickly taken.*
"I'll be ready."
*You know where to go.*
She sluiced along the neural pathway. Drinking the flow of electricity through what she imagined still as her mouth and letting it exit through the souls of her feet. Tightly packed she held herself, careful not to let her presence spread, careful to skirt the areas of the mind HE used heavily.
Her senses had changed in the years of entrapment. Vision had almost gone completely, hearing and touch remained, but only as weak replicas of there former strength. Smell and taste grew prominent. Each path smelled a certain way: here vanilla, there creosote, white chocolate, roses, lemon, urine, thyme, grass, gasoline. Overlaying the major scents were a vast array of other flavors. As she flowed along between the neurons, she could smell the age of her body. A quiet smell. Beginning with dry leaves, and cool water, filling with day old limes, and finishing with hints of earthy mintlike tones. She had no basis to associate those aroma's with death, but she knew they were the harbinger of hers.
She traveled along tasting her way towards her goal. Drinking of her mind. Slurping along the rolling trails of gray matter.
She smelled the direction she needed to go. It smelled of hot gravel just pelted by rain. Quickening her pace she spun along the cloverleafing intersections of neuron strings. Sight would do no good here. Like a bloodhound once she had found her scent, she hunkered to it and sped her travel towards her goal. Flavors crisscrossed in front of her, always she sought out the steamy summer smell, it strengthened as she passed through each neuron.
Down now, to where she needed to be, amidst the tangling of the net centering on the left hand. Here is where she needed to be if their plan were to succeed. She settled down for a long wait. Waiting for the fireworks to begin.
Their plan needed precise timing.
At the point of the beginning of the transference. Michael would create a diversion. She would take control of the left hand and stop its action. Hold it back from using its' terrible ring. She must hide herself now and tap into what was happening beyond her little corner of the mind. She could see some of the outside, if she were careful and cautious.
Days passed. She couldn't keep accurate count. She had no basis for telling time anymore. A month? More? Still she waited cautiously. Unseen, unknown of.
When it happened there was very little warning. Over the length of her stay, quietly waiting, she had lost a bit of her concentration. She was caught off guard.
All of a sudden there was a sucking feeling traveling through the group mind electricity seemed to be spinning all around her. The Beast was departing.
Then she felt Michael's presence rising up against their tormentor. Challenging his will in the killing of another innocent. Their presence's could be felt battling all around her. Michael had not spent the years idly. He had discovered many different tricks and feints, but he would not be able to withstand the onslaught of Mengele. The remainder of her vision was being overwhelmed by flashing energies. Sounds were filling the silence: Screams, sirens, explosions, squeaks static, rips, crying, even violins. Many sounds she could not identify. They were flowing around her now. Mixtures of pattern and chaos. Too much was going on for her to focus on what needed to be done.
Amidst the vision's and nightmarish sounds, a clear spot formed. From within it she could see what was happening out in the world. Mengele had a young victim, a boy. He was sleeping calmly, oblivious to the danger that seemed to be lingering over his bed. A hand was stretching out to the boy reaching for the back of his neck. Ready to caress his nape with a soft but deadly touch. She knew she must allow him to begin the transference before she acted. His spirit must be in the middle of transferring for him to be vulnerable. There was only a split second where he would be gone and the victim unharmed.
She spun and searched for the specific controlling nerves, carefully entangled herself among them, preparing to grab hold and ride.
Mengele began to chuckle, his voice she felt as a vibration penetrating and passing through her.
"Michael, you have failed. You believe this will stop me! It has only left you vulnerable, giving me the means to destroy you. This body will be left, a shell, to wither. Now, ENOUGH!!"
With his final statement, he brushed Michael aside disdainfully. Beat him back into a corner. Pummeled him. Tore chunks of his being out piece by piece. Shredded the fabric of his remaining self. Ate each morsel. Consumed and absorbed all. Grasped the last of him in a mental fist and squeezed the remnant for its juices.
The chuckle rose again, as he seemed to shake the off the debris.
Oblivious in his triumph, Mengele returned his attention to his victim.
"Now, back to matters at hand."
His mind now turned outward again, his gaze falling back to the boy. He still rested peacefully in his bed, unsuspecting of his terrible fate. Sophia could see all this going on, she was tense, focused, ready. Mengele almost leapt on the boy, covering his mouth with his right hand and gripping the back of his neck with his left. The boy screamed in wild terror, but it was too late for him to struggle.
Mengele mentally activated the ring. A needle like proboscis snaked out from the black filigree, probing and looking for the best place to insert. Tapping its' way around a little, tasting the skin in several places, it shortly located the sweet spot. It reared its' miniature head and struck down into the neck, penetrating deeply, directly into the brain stem. A latticework of roots fanned out from the tip into the boy's stem. It was now ready for the transference.
Electric currents began to build around her again, tugging at her, trying to pull her along with Him. She dug herself deeper within the neural framework. Holding to the ganglia, caressing the controlling nerves, waiting. The spinning grew. She was finding it hard to concentrate. Her remaining senses were overwhelmed with the sounds and visions and smells. It increased in force and pitch in a terrifying crescendo. The hurricane from within, ripping at her. It was then she realized that even if she were able to defeat Him, she was going to die.
Quickly now the sounds were twisting to silence. In a fraction of the time of build-up everything was draining away. She shook herself, and waited one more moment.
He was gone.
She pulled on the neurons, moving the arm, tearing the hand away from the neck, and ripping the ring and its' proboscis out of the boys brain. The boy fell back unconscious.
There was no means of repossession. He could not travel back up into the brain. The Ring was a one way valve.
She had control only of the left hand and arm, but brought the hand into her field of vision. The needle was waving around frantically, looking for the victim, appearing like a hideous black insect, probing the air for prey.
Her presence slowly spread and filled her mind once more. She was weak, but found the experience exhilarating. Like finding all of your lost friends again, all your toys of childhood, all your favorite places, all that you had forgotten. Soon she could sit up.
The room was small, just a child's bedroom, brightly painted.