Sunblind Serpent: The Zodiac Without A House

[DAY 367]

Marek waited.

Nothing else happened.

He shifted slightly on the seat. ”Professor?”

There was no answer from the intercom.

”Professor Halden?”

The speakers released a burst of static. Marek reached for the emergency release button beside the toilet. He pressed it once.

Nothing happened.

He pressed it again.

The button remained dark.

Outside the testing room, something struck the floor.

It sounded like a metal tray.

Then another object fell.

Several people began shouting at the same time.

Marek straightened. ”Open the door.”

No one answered.

The screen in front of him flickered. The diagnostic results disappeared. A black background replaced them.

For several seconds, the screen reflected Marek’s own face.

His hair was untidy. His eyes looked more exhausted than usual. He also looked exactly like a person who had been trapped on an expensive toilet while something clearly abnormal was occurring outside.

The screen flickered again.

Thirteen points of light appeared.

They slowly connected.

The lines formed constellations Marek recognized from old astronomy charts, although several were in positions they should not have occupied at the same time.

Capricorn.

Aquarius.

Pisces.

Aries.

Taurus.

Gemini.

Cancer.

Leo.

Virgo.

Libra.

Scorpius.1

Ophiuchus.

Sagittarius.

All thirteen surrounded a dark circle in the center of the screen.

Marek stared at Ophiuchus longer than the others.

He knew enough astronomy to recognize the constellation. He had also been born on November 30, the date that some modern astronomical classifications placed under Ophiuchus 1rather than Sagittarius.

Though he had never cared about Zodiac Signs, his sister did.

Mara regularly informed him that being born under Ophiuchus explained why he was quiet, stubborn, emotionally unavailable... and ”kind of creepy around medicine.”

Marek had told her that none of those statements had scientific support. She argued that this was exactly what an Ophiuchus would say.

The dark circle on the screen expanded. A low vibration passed through the room. Marek felt it beneath his feet, although the floor did not shake. It felt as though he had stepped down from a staircase and discovered that the final step was missing.

His stomach tightened. The sensation lasted for less than a second. Then, pain entered his right shoulder.

Marek gripped the side of the toilet.

It was not the sharp pain of a cut or the dull pressure of a strained muscle. It felt as though something beneath his skin was slowly drawing a circle using the point of a heated needle.

He pulled down the collar of his shirt.

A black line appeared near his shoulder.

It continued moving.

The line formed a circle, empty in the center. Around it, thirteen scale-like shapes appeared one after another.

Each scale was cracked and incomplete.

Marek breathed through his teeth as the final mark1 settled into his skin. The pain stopped. The machine beneath him immediately activated.

A warning alarm filled the room.

[UNKNOWN BIOLOGICAL CONDITION DETECTED.]

Marek looked at the screen. ”What?”

[SEVERE INTERNAL ABNORMALITY DETECTED.]

[UNIDENTIFIED PARASITIC STRUCTURE.]

[REPTILIAN CHARACTERISTICS PRESENT.]

”That is my shoulder.”

[EMERGENCY CONTAINMENT REQUIRED.]

The safety harness snapped around his waist.

Marek looked down. ”You have got to be kidding me.”

Two padded restraints locked over his thighs. The mechanical arms extended from both sides of the toilet. He had been assured they would not touch him under any circumstances.

One pressed against his chest.

The other attempted to scan his abdomen.

Marek grabbed it.

”Stop.”

[PLEASE REMAIN CALM.]

”I am calm... Unlock the seat.”

[HOSTILE BIOLOGICAL ACTIVITY INCREASING.]

The empty black circle on his shoulder pulsed, and the machine released a louder alarm.

[EMERGENCY SANITATION MODE ACTIVATED.]

A hatch opened in the ceiling.

Marek slowly looked upward. White disinfectant foam poured onto his head.

For several seconds, he remained completely still. The foam covered his hair, face, shoulders, and most of the light medical jacket hanging from a hook beside him.

A second stream sprayed the floor.

A third struck him directly in the chest.

Marek wiped the foam from his eyes.

”Professor Halden!” The speaker crackled.

A distorted voice came through. ”Marek—stay—inside—”

The rest vanished beneath static. The toilet tightened the restraint even more.

[PLEASE REMAIN CALM.]

Marek gripped the mechanical arm and pulled. ”Unlock the damn seat first!”

The arm bent. Marek stopped.

At least, he did not think he had. The joint had felt lighter in his hand than it should have. Perhaps it was adrenaline. Or the joint was weaker than it looked.

The machine’s metal joint twisted in his hand before breaking free with a sharp snap. Several wires tore from its base.

The alarm became louder.

[PROPERTY DAMAGE DETECTED.]

[PLEASE STOP RESISTING.]

”No.” He used the broken mechanical arm to strike the lock beside his waist.

The first strike cracked the plastic cover. The second exposed the internal latch. The third released the harness. Marek pushed himself up, grabbed his pants, and pulled them into place as quickly as possible.

It was difficult to maintain dignity while covered in foam, but he attempted it anyway.

The door remained locked. He pressed the release button again.

Nothing.

Marek picked up the broken mechanical arm. He struck the panel beside the door. Sparks jumped from the panel, followed by a sharp click from the lock.

He opened the door.

The laboratory outside looked almost unchanged. Tables remained in their proper places. Sample cabinets had not fallen.

The ceiling lights were still working, although violet light now mixed with their ordinary white glow.

However, every monitor in the room displayed the same thing.

DAY 367.

Professor Halden stood beside the central workstation with one hand pressed against his left eye.

Pale markings had appeared around both of his wrists and forearms, fine and symmetrical, like the arms of a balance.

Three researchers were staring at their own bodies. One had a golden mark spreading across his chest. Another had twin symbols glowing in the center of both palms. The third was crouched beneath a table, staring at the pale blue markings spreading along both of his forearms.

Nobody seemed to know what to do.

Marek stepped out of the testing room, foam dripping from his hair.

Everyone turned toward him.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Professor Halden lowered his hand from his eye. ”Marek.”

”Yes.”

”Why are you holding part of the toilet?”

”It refused to release me.”

The professor looked at the broken mechanical arm.

Then he looked at the foam covering Marek. ”This was not part of the test...”

”I had already assumed that.”

One of the researchers began laughing.

It was not the calm laughter from earlier. It sounded closer to panic.

Marek placed the broken arm on the nearest table. ”What happened?”

Professor Halden pointed toward the windows.

Marek turned.

The laboratory was located on the sixth floor of the university’s medical sciences building. From there, he should have been able to see the eastern residential district, the old highway, and several apartment towers beyond the campus.

The buildings were still there.

The streets directly below were unchanged.

Cars remained stopped at the intersection. People stood outside, staring upward.

However, beyond the final row of university buildings, the city ended.

There was no gradual change.

No ruined district.

Nor any distant highway.

A dark forest began immediately beyond the campus wall. Thick fog hung between enormous trees. The old road continued through the gate and entered the forest as though it had always been there.

Marek approached the window. ”That was not there before.”

Professor Halden let out a quiet breath.

A coastline could be seen far beyond the forest. Their city was nearly two hundred kilometers from the nearest sea.

Marek stared at it. The laboratory did not shake. The campus had not moved either.

The surrounding buildings remained where they had always been. Yet the rest of the world was no longer where it should have been.

Someone behind him whispered, ”My phone says we are still in Linden City.”

Another researcher answered, ”My map says the ocean is eight hundred meters away.”

”There was no ocean here.”

”I know.”

Marek reached into his pocket and took out his phone. The cracked screen flickered.

The date displayed:

DAY 367.

Still the same.

Scorpius and Scorpio both refer to the same celestial scorpion. ’Scorpius’ is the official International Astronomical Union (IAU) constellation, while ’Scorpio’ is the traditional astrological sign and an alternate Latin spelling.While the Sun physically passes through the constellation Ophiuchus from roughly November 30 to December 17, astrologers do not include it in the zodiac wheel as the ”Thirteenth Zodiac Sign”.Astral Mark