Chapter 1: Clever Girl

“So”, began agent Arturo De La Fuente of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, sitting down before him as his partner Clara Danes Oswald, stood to the side leaning against the frame of the doorway in the spacious meeting room, both examining his every action and reaction as if here both the most interesting creature on earth and rightly the most lamentable at the same time “do you believe it’s true?”, Arturo said simply.

Max, finishing his cigarette as he crushed the lit end in the foam cup filled with the water he hadn’t drunk from it, pushed it aside gently and looked at them intently, not with menace but with a natural curiosity as he looked at them both or somehow looked through them in a certain way that garnered their attention immediately. “All I can tell you agents”, he began gruffly, his tone oddly upbeat but disbelieving as if he had just been told a joke, whose punch line he could barely contain to himself “is before me I see and hear, not whom you represent yourselves to be, not entirely anyways. I can for all sakes and purposes recall from your credentials which you humbly supplied that you are Arturo De La Fuente and you madam by the door are Clare Danes Oswald, but here’s where it gets crazy and not in a fun way...”, he began as he scratched his light stubble with his hands, looking down at the table, as if unsure whether to tell them, before sitting back in his chair and from his body language alone, seemed to give the impression he had little choice in the matter “I see and hear two completely and impossible different people from those I should see before me, if that makes sense ... I only wish it did, but you can understand my reasons for being “sceptical” at the very least for telling you this”, he said as he laid both hands flat on the table before him, as if to say indicate he was telling the truth, and he had no intention of hiding anything from them.

They both took this in, eyeing eachother for a moment before they asked without any hint of scepticism on their part as if to imply they trusted him to continue “who or what do you see and hear before you, be as clear and relatable in size, shape and sound that you can be to anything you can think of as a point of reference”, Arturo said solidly, as if he’d expected his answer all along and wasn’t willing to just lead him to the next one, which caught Max’s attention with a start before he calmed down and leaned back in his seat. “It’s em ... it’s abit odd because I don’t know how it’s reflect back on me ... you know and paint a picture of my subconcious and plus I don’t know if you’ll recognize the “people” I’m looking at straight away without having to look through their “work” as it were. Equally I don’t know if you hate or have a biased towards them, or if for some reason you find their real-life counterparts offensive for whatever reason, which I don’t but I’m just what you would call a “fanboy”, so these things can vary ... allot I’ve learned”, he said, trying to be as clear as he could but realizing he wasn’t really being much help.

Clara stepped forward, her gaze sharp and focused, “Mr. Maxwell, we’re here on a serious matter and we need you to be as straightforward as possible. Can you tell us, in plain terms, what or who you perceive us as?” Max took a deep breath and nodded “okay, you asked for it, he said lamely, picking up a second cup of water laid out in front of him feeling suddenly parched before he said quickly “I see a blonde “Dana Scully” or the real life “Gillian Anderson” who portrayed her, in her youth from the popular show X-Files. You want I should do you next Arturo? Yours is just as equally mystifying”, he said almost cheekily, as he watched Clara squirm slightly under his revelation, she hadn’t expected that.

Arturo leaned in, intrigued despite himself. “And me?” Max looked at him, his eyes squinting slightly as if trying to make out something in the distance before his face lit up in recognition. “Oddly enough you’re a young Keith David, with the same voice and all from “They Live” and the original “The Thing”, but built like a brick wall, in a good way, like you could make a human sized doorway in the wall over there if you decided to walk through it unopposed. Are you that well built in real life? he asked outloud, forgetting for a moment where he was and why they were here.

Both agents looked at eachother as if confirming what they were being told with something they had learned previously but obviously not divulged yet as Max chimed in. “Lemme guess”, he said as he stared into the contents of the water in his cup, seemingly hypnotized by its shallow depths as he said “the “Black Book” as “it” calls it’s little harbingers of death and suicide, the same one which popped up on my PC which your tech boys have probably stripped searched by now eagerly, something like that also got into one of your fellow agents email accounts, he read it, got caught in whatever subliminal, Vulcan mind meld it used to whammy him or her into believing there was only one way out or he’d rue living to tell the tale. Either kill a high priority target in the building, or die trying via eating his own gun or any other convenient method at hand, personally I wouldn’t rule out the biting through the tongue method ala “Million Dollar Baby”, that shit is brutal though”, he said as he switched his focus back to them. “Am I close?” he said as he looked at the faces although unreadable at first eventually cracked with signs of disbelief.

“Lemme’ guess what happened next then”, he continued, the energy seemingly draining from him as he leaned back into his chair. “You stopped him from killing whoever he was after, restrained him, all the while he was probably hallucinating in a similar manner I am now, but not in a fun way. I’m guessing he didn’t get to say goodbye whilst looking at two of his favourite celebrities in the process, if I had to assume, he probably had a whole lotta’ personal demons of a type and nature that reflected what “they” convinced him they could do to him, his family, his friends, unless he found a way to tie up himself as a loose end and end his own life?” Am I warm? Should I drink some more water in case I spontaneously combust into fire”, he asked solemnly.

Arturo nodded gravely, his eyes never leaving Max’s. “You’re close, Mr. Maxwell. We did find an email from the ‘Black Book’ in one of our agent’s accounts, it was blank though. We found out through him and what little he said that made sense that he had been instructed to take the life of the assistant director. Something he almost succeeded at. When restrained he did in fact seem to believe he had few options left, he reported ghostly figures of family and friends, some still alive, others not so from passing naturally, as if to tell him it wouldn’t matter soon, if he didn’t remove any signs of how or by who he’d been manipulated. Or at least that’s what we can deduce from his ramblings, from the descriptions he gave us before he effectively bit off his own tongue and choked to death on his own blood before they could save him”, Arturo said, his voice filled with a mix of anger and sadness, as he paused briefly to gather his thoughts.

“But I didn’t open the attachment”, Max stated plainly “but you think if I do, that I’ll follow the same route?” he seemed to wonder outloud. Clara stepped closer to him, her hand gently touching his shoulder “Mr. Maxwell, we’re here to help you. We need to know if you have any information that could lead us to whoever is behind this. Your safety is our priority.” Max nodded, taking a deep breath before continuing “Please call me Max, everyone else does, Mr. Maxwell is my father and trust me the first moment I noticed something was very wrong was the second after I saw that Black book and practically leapt out of my room. It was how I noticed how it had changed me, simply from knowing it existed like a cognition hazard. You wanna’ know who I saw impersonating him, as my mind slowly adjusted to the fact that I was effectively being brainwashed by an information hazard that was slowly but surely making me see and hear things that aren’t there?”, he asked solemnly focusing on the clear contents of his foam cup as if tempting the water to change to lead.

“Sure”, Clara began “I’m also a qualified psychologist, but I’m not specialized in any particular field for profiling specific behaviour, so as a field agent, my specialty is in extracting information that is not always readily available, so any details you can give us would be incredibly useful”, she said calmly as her hand remained on his shoulder.

“As context or at least context I think you might appreciate, you remember that report they made on Guantanamo Bay, about the odd style of tortures they used there”, he said slightly nervously. Both agents nodded, Arturo leaning back in his chair slightly as he folded his hands in front of him. “I know it sounds odd, but for the life of me I had like a “Ghostbusters’s” moment when, where Gozer tells them to pick the form of their destroyer, and I’m running and all of a sudden a thought pops up in my head about torture, then Guantanamo then ... then I see him, it’s odd and it’s terrifying and it’s childish on a level that is both immaterial and yet staring at me in the face like confirmation like I’ve been marked for death or something”, he said as he put down the foam cup afraid he might either drop it or crush it in his hands as Clara said nothing but nodded in understanding, her grip on his shoulder slightly tightening. “I saw ... Jesus ... I saw Barney the dinosaur and ... but he sounded like my dad and then he didn’t, it’s almost like they hadn’t gotten the rewiring done quickly enough or something wasn’t quite compatible and then it came and I started to hear that damned song he always sings in each episode at the end and then I just called the cops and tried not to pass out before they arrived and told them everything, except the Barney thing. I thought ... I thought I was just being hysterical but it hasn’t gone away”, he said “you”, he indicated to Clara “sound exactly like Gillian Anderson would from the X-files would to a plausible degree at least to my mind, and you”, he indicated to Arturo “you have the same voice as Keith David down to the easy growl he could let creep in his voice as either “Goliath” from the cartoon show “Gargoyles” or even Todd McFarlane’s “Spawn” he also did”, he said with growing alarm “and I know it’s all wired in my head somehow, it’s all coming from me, but I can’t shut it off and all the while I keep getting this feeling that opening the book is only gonna’ make it worse, but not opening isn’t making it any easier”, he said trying to catch his breath he didn’t realize had become ragged and shallow, as both agents took a moment to process this.

Clara spoke up first, her soft tone a stark contrast to the heavy silence that had filled the room. “Max, I need you to breathe deeply. In through your nose, out through your mouth. It’s okay, you’re safe here.” She waited patiently as Max followed her instructions, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

“When you can”, she advised lightly “Tell us in your own words why you think you might have attracted their attention, why you’ve become a target? All we can tell from your computers history so far is that you’ve read allot of the material inside the “Black Library” which it offers up to public freely, but is somehow impossible to download or even copy. And no attempts we’ve made to extract information from the main site have allowed us to gain unrestricted entry to it let alone trace what we know must be a working hub or hubs somewhere”, she said her voice soothing almost as if she was trying to calm down a child. Max took a deep breath and let it out slowly “I don’t know. But if you’ve read any yourselves you know the only way to get access to the other “Black Books” in its “Library” is to read through the main “Story” they treat as a mission statement”, he said pointing out the obvious as a working start, as Arturo chimed in “yeah but that’s just propaganda to feed the masses, cause mass hysteria, no one believes it’s real enough if they have two brain cells to rub together, no one sane or not knee deep in conspiracy theory anyway”, he said with more than a hint of scepticism, as Max said “Well despite it or maybe because of it, it still attracted those so called “masses”. You’ve obviously seen or heard about the popular “Terminator” franchise right?” he offered as a point of reference.

Arturo nodded “Everyone has”, Max took a deep breath “So you send a walking talking cyborg, back in time you instruct it systematically assassinate more than just a handful of would be saviours or worse you send it back to kill the perpetrators of the next generations long war and eventually someone might just aim a .50 Desert Eagle gun in the right direction and not miss, what then? You get a virtual treasure trove of future technology that might lead to world war “three billion” in several months time and the world this time is whipped out for good and you have your future self to thank for the idiocy of the plan right?”, he offered again “So what if they did like they really said, what if instead of sending back a Schwarzenegger sized problem, you send back a signal, not unlike Sputnik when they first sent it up into orbit and it blipped across the radio waves for everyone to hear and it was just a beacon saying “hello we’re here, we’re coming and we’re gonna’ win”, but instead of that it’s the “Black Books”, it even said that disclosing this information in the form it presented with a crystallized form of honesty would not deter people believing in it, in fact it judged with a degree of certainty that the psychological threat of panic as it choose random and every day people would help destabilize governments and even make its job easier. So, as the “Books” were sent outwards, effecting not just people all around the country but all over the world, it felt like the effect from that horror film “The Ring”, where the “Book” signalled the end of your life and maybe someone else’s, all you had to do was look inside, and guaranteed the average human being doesn’t need to be told not to stick his hand fire to know it’s hot, but genuine curiosity, genuine “human” curiosity for the unknown is unparalleled by its equal and utter stupidity”, he said quivering suddenly as he felt the first throes of rage building inside of him as a result of the “Books” psychological torment, Clara noticed and nodded at Arturo who was already moving to restrain him if necessary.

Instead Max simply sat back and tried to control his breathing as Clara had originally advised him to, he looked suddenly exhausted and frayed, as his arms hung by his side limply as he stared down at the water cup “and I’m the fool who didn’t look, yet somehow still got snagged on the steel traps teeth”, he said sadly. Both Arturo and Clara shared a quick glance, a silent message passed between them before Clara spoke again.

“Max, can you tell us anything specific about the content of the “Black Book”? Anything that might help us understand what we’re dealing with here?” Clara’s voice remained calm but there was a tension in her eyes that belied her urgency. Max took another deep breath before speaking, his voice quieter now, more measured “nothing, but I’m guessing from the previous “Books” available for public reading in the library that you’ve probably already read like I have, that it’ll provide something like what you might compare to a recon diary, detailing patterns, movements habits of the person their studying in real time, some books were different some filled themselves out completely before the person or persons died, like it was an original story projecting a characters arc from introduction to ending. It’s always grisly and it’s always death. The odd thing is I actually searched for my own story in the Black Library at the police station, since I’d been sent a book. You’ve probably already seen it, under the “Beta” section, apparently whatever it is, it’s learning, it’s not waiting for people to open by up the books anymore in that section, it’s applying the subliminal messaging and noting down the new tactics it’s using to apply to mental pressure points. I saw one kid called “Michael Jacobs”, in there, his simply said “Arachnophobia” and the date they implement it. It didn’t say if he was still alive or if they were switching to another technique, just that. Under mine it simply read “Shock and Awe”, I looked it up all the same, it’s used as a form of psychological warfare guys, I have to say, odds don’t look good”, he said as he lit up another cigarette and took another sip out of the foam cup. He looked defeated as if the weight of the world had come to rest upon his shoulders and was now crushing him into a fine powder.

Despite this as Clara sat down next to him, gesturing with her open hands if she could take his in hers, as he faced her and allowed her to, “Max, you have to understand that we’re here to help you. We’ve seen what the “Black Book” can do, we’ve seen its power first hand and we’re not going to let it win. We need to work together to figure out who’s behind this and how to stop them before they get to anyone else”, she said with a warmth that seemed to break through the chill in the room slightly.

“In all seriousness, I understand that you are not the actress I grew up watching on TV like so many millions of others did, intellectually I can understand it, but emotionally, I am looking at the one person on this earth who because of a childhood crush I used to have on her, could in fact be the only real thing that could get me through this and I understand you know this, that your using this frame of mind that’s being used against me to reinforce my resolve, I get it, I’m not stupid, but at the same time...”, he said his own confidence seemingly growing as he said “what would you give to be holding the hands of say Christopher Reeve as “Superman” or Keanu Reaves as “Neo” from the Matrix, telling you that everything was not exactly gonna’ be alright, but that it could be better”, he said almost daring her to smile, as she took his hand and squeezed it gently. “Answer me this, both of you”, he said turning to Arturo aswell as he said this, “if this happened to you, and you saw something similar to what I did, who would you choose if you had a choice in the matter?” Alive, dead it wouldn’t have to be a celebrity, just someone you wouldn’t be spooked to see alive at least, someone who could bring you comfort?” he asked imploringly.

Arturo took a moment, then spoke, his voice firm and unwavering. “If it were me, Max, I’d choose my grandmother. She was the rock of our family, she never took any crap from anyone, and she had a way of making everything seem ... manageable.” Max nodded, his eyes misting slightly, and Clara offered a small smile, her grip on his hand tightening in a silent show of solidarity.

Clara herself said nothing for a moment, lost in thought, her eyes flicking briefly to the floor before meeting Max’s again. “I’d choose my old partner, Alex. He was like a big brother to me. We faced a lot of tough cases together, and his sense of humour and strength always got me through. Losing him was like losing a piece of myself, but if he were here, I know he’d tell me to keep fighting, to find a way to beat this,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

Max, with a sign of regret said simply “I’d pick my mom, we lost in her in a fire, me and my dad came back from a movie downtown, no idea what it was we went to see, all we know was that everything was destroyed by the time we came back home and nothing, no remains, like an act of God had just struck the building claiming other families who’d been caught in the flames. They attributed it to faulty wiring, half the building, spreading to the other half, claiming the whole thing”, he said dismally. “But that might be your starting piece”, he said with some hint of hope. “At least with the “Beta” section, maybe they already suffered some traumatic event, maybe that’s why their inflicting new ones, testing out phobias and such, seeing what sticks so that whatever’s really in charge of the Library can specialize when it realizes it can’t just dip into its hat of tricks and over-generalize with the public. I just hope they don’t try and give me a fear of heights, that shit would be lazy”, he offered as a lame joke, as he picked the second cigarette out of his lips and stubbed it out in the first foam cup.

“And probably wouldn’t make much of a difference”, he added absentmindedly, “everyone has a fear of heights, to a degree, one of the primal fears which include: darkness, heights, predators, death, and one more ... I don’t know, I keep forgetting”, he said before Clara chimed in with “Isolation”, her tone firm but gentle as Max nodded his head slightly in recognition before he spoke up again “right, isolation, thanks. That’s why the “Black Book” is so effective, it doesn’t just pick something random and hope it sticks, it picks something you can’t ignore, something that’s been with you, haunting you for so long that you’ve learned to live with it and it uses that to its advantage, to manipulate and control and if it’s not that it’s something that’s gonna’ keep you up at night, something that’s going to make you question everything you know”, he said with a shiver running down his spine, as he felt the walls of the room seemingly close in around him.

“So yeah, maybe look up people mentioned on the lists of beta testers if you haven’t already, maybe flag keywords in hospitals for admission under sudden and inexplicable signs of hallucinatory arachnophobia”, he added in an almost as an afterthought. Arturo nodded, scribbling something into his notepad. “Apart from that I don’t know how useful I can be until I crack that book open or “they” throw me into the next phase of their beta testing”, he said grimly, forgoing another cigarette, as he looked down at it almost quizzically before he dropped it and every other one he had left in the pack in the nearby bin, as if realizing they’d be no use not against “this” and could only aid the black library. “A thought comes to mind, it’s abit out there, like tin hat, sort of out there if you don’t mind indulging me?” he asked them.

They both nodded, encouraging him to continue as Clara spoke “we’re listening Max, we’re here to get to the bottom of this, no theory is too out there for us to consider at this point”, she assured him. Max took a deep breath “Ok, so typically if you want to block an electromagnetic field like say a phone’s signal you use a “Faraday Cage”, right? Well, what if this “Black Book” is the same but for thoughts, it’s not just changing them it’s broadcasting them, it’s like it’s got a mental EMP burst and it’s messing with our brains, turning them into some kind of psychological minefield, maybe we’re all just antennas to whatever’s on the other side of the signal, broadcasting our deepest fears and insecurities and it’s using that to fine tune itself for whatever’s next”, he suggested, his mind racing.

“We line a hat or something and we wait and see if the signal weakens”, he suggested quickly. Arturo chimed in and asked grimly “and if it doesn’t, even given enough time?”, he added as Max smiled with a unsettling amount of teeth in his grin “well then I hear great things about electro shock treatment, otherwise I’m all ears for a copper lined baseball cap, with and X-Files theme if you can find one”, he said laughing bitterly, as he bent his head down and rested it on the table, arms folded underneath it so he could rest his head on them as he said “boy I am so screwed”, he said with a defeated sigh.

“We’re going to get to the bottom of this, Max. We won’t let them win. We’ll find a way to stop this before it’s too late for anyone else,” Clara assured him, her voice firm and reassuring. Max looked up, the weight of his words sinking in. “I know you’re scared, but we need you to stay strong, okay?” she said, patting his hand gently.

“Question: if you were a super fast, quantum computer from the future and you were engineered to send back a signal back in time to hack, blackmail, brainwash, coerce people to commit suicide and kill others, whilst causing mass hysteria to destabilize governments so you could re-establish it with better figureheads, in order stop the next couple of world wars that would lead to their inevitable extinction, how smart would you have to be to fool them and select your own targets based on the genealogy information they themselves provided you to select their own targets, so that according to your own “superior” calculations you could not only eliminate the humans in question leading up to the great war, their all going to drive themselves to inevitable extinction to, but also make you the dominant force on the earth behind the scenes, before even the first step was taken in that direction?”, he said inquisitively, watching as they both processed the question before they even had a chance to respond.

Clara was the first to speak up, her eyes narrowed in thought “That’s ... That’s a very specific and chilling scenario, Max. But it does raise an important point. If the “Black Book” is that advanced, then it’s possible that the people behind this have a very detailed plan and a very specific set of targets in mind. We need to find out who they are and what their endgame is before we can effectively combat them,” she said, her voice a mix of determination and concern.

“And you Arturo, best guess on how smart the toasters would have to be before we star in our own Battlestar Galactica series”, he said with slight humour in his voice, trying to lighten the mood as Arturo leaned forward in his chair, his eyes never leaving Max’s. “Max, if what you’re suggesting is true, then we’re dealing with something much more sophisticated and dangerous than we could have ever imagined. A quantum computer capable of such manipulation would be a game-changer, not just for us but for the entire world,” Arturo said, his expression serious.

“Yeah, yeah, difference is now where the modern day “Neanderthal” or hell even the first native Americans about to be booted off our own lands, by threat of violence if need be and “they’ve” already fired the first shot”, he said lamely depressed again “difference is we won’t see it coming, half the internet activity in the world is just bots, did you know that? The majority of which are malicious. I suspect though the count is much higher but if you’re not thrilled with that idea, think on this. Ninety-seven percent of all currency in the world is digital, to kill us they wouldn’t have to use these “Books” it were, they’d just have to sink the economy, permanently, and reduce us to bartering, at best”, he said before he added “Pray no one gives “it” that idea”, he told them as he leaned his head into his folded arms once again.

Clara looked at Arturo with a mix of horror and determination; she knew that Max was right, that this was something that was out of their league, something that had to be stopped at all costs. “We need to get Max into protective custody, now. And we need to start tracking down every single person who’s encountered these books, every beta tester, every victim,” she said with urgency in her voice. Arturo nodded gravely, understanding the gravity of the situation.

Max’s only response to this was “I would like my X-Files cap now, with or without the copper lining, dealers choice”, he said miserably, “Might not matter for long though”, he added, his voice barely above a whisper. Clara leaned in closer, her eyes filled with compassion “Max, you’re not alone in this. We’re here to help you, to stop whatever this is,” she assured him, her voice steady and determined.

“That’s nice Scully”, he said referring to the TV character Clara reminded him of, “My only ask is that you tell the little green men from mars if they happen to get here within the next few hours to give us about a week or so before we go crazy and the planet becomes one big replica of the movie “The Purge”, the real estate prices might suffer at first but I’m sure we won’t nuke ourselves, “this time”, probably”, he said bitterly, the tension in the room palpable.

“Max, we’re taking this very seriously,” Clara said her voice firm yet gentle. “We need you to stay strong and keep sharing your experiences with us. Every detail counts.”

“Sure, ask away, I just work here now it seems creative exercise aside, do I need a bullet-resistant vest in case anyone with a “Black Book” of their own tries to Kamikaze me for the “cause” with a handy glock in building? Seems natural if they invaded one agent they might do so with others, maybe I’ll even be able to tell you who if they look weird or out of place? Could you as a test, show me a picture of the agent you mentioned, who knows I might finally find “Waldo” after all these years”, he joked trying to ease the tension. Clara nodded and pulled out her phone, she scrolled through her images and pulled out a picture of the agent, his name tag read “Johnson” and he had a stern look on his face. Max studied the image for a long moment; his eyes searching for some sign, some clue, something that would confirm his suspicion, something that would make him feel like he had some kind of control over the chaos in his mind.

“Nothing, let me try something though you guys have my phone right, you confiscated it in case I tried to open the Black Book from my email account right?” he offered and Clara nodded confirming his suspicion. Max closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “My father became Barney when I saw him in real life and not a still photo, maybe if you showed me a video of him I have on my phone instead of a still image, he might look and play the part, and I could confirm the same thing with your “Johnson”, he offered hopefully.