Excerpts From Nonexistent Books

Hurricane season keeps chasing us off the island much earlier than we would like, but at first we thought it had decimated the population of monkeys as well. We know that they have been surviving without natural water supplies by licking dew and stealing seabird eggs, but after our population survey we were shocked to find absolutely no male monkeys among the survey population.

We also noticed that only a select handful of the females were breeding. On a whim, we examined five of the ten offspring that we observed, and to our surprise they were all males–the only male monkeys on the island.

Clearly, more research is needed.

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We had intended to stay at the naval station longer before the hurricane, but events conspired to force an evacuation not long after the monkeys were seeded. Returning after such a long period of time, most of us–and, if I’m being honest, even myself–thought that we’d find nothing.

Instead, the rhesus monkeys are doing exceptionally well. We’ve already counted 67, meaning that the population must have increased. We’ve also noticed increased socialization among them, with nearly every female taking a turn with multiple other young. Rather than the complex hierarchies of male and female that we normally see, the monkeys are behaving in a much simpler hierarchy with a dominant female leader we’ve begun calling “Queenie.” The males seem to be almost totally cut out of the normal social fabric other than being used as enforcers and mating, and those young we’ve been able to sex are also, interestingly, overwhelmingly female.

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We released the animals today. Zemí is an ideal site for this sort of research; it is large and isolated but quite desolate. Our hope is that, given the rather short generations of the rhesus monkeys, we will be able to rather quickly see how they adapt to an environment with no natural water yet no natural predators.

Naturally, the assumption has been that all 66 animals will die within a few days, but based on my research into the Barbary macaques in the Atlas Mountain, I believe that this will not be the case. In fact, I think that social and behavioral adaptations could be observable very soon, and that these will allow the animals to survive, if not thrive.

In either case, the research team is well-supplied for now and our base in the old lighthouse and naval station is quite comfortable.

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“They…they said you were called firefly because you positively glowed!” he said, scrabbling backward on his hands and knees.

She approached, the flames wreathing her and melting the ground below into slaggy glass. “They were wrong,” she said.

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After Al-Balawi and his mount had disappeared into the sinkhole, his companions were still able to hear his cries. Eventually, they found a tiny spring through living rock, and a fist-sized opening through which the scholar’s voice could be heard.

Though the hole was far too small to allow a rescue or even to allow food and water to be passed to Al-Balawi, he was able to speak clearly and demanded that his companions take up parchment to record his experiences. Using the supplies which had fallen with him, as well as his dead camel, Al-Balawi undertook an investigation of the cave system in which he found himself. Every few hours he would return to describe what he had seen.

Al-Balawi told of a massive network of caverns, many shining with innumerable crystals by the light of his makeshift torch. He mentioned strange, eyeless creatures, almost like deer, that ran from his presence. Most stunningly, Al-Balawi described a series of ruins built into the subterranae that were covered with hieroglyphs that he laboriously described to his companions.

Over time, though, Al-Balawi’s food and water ran out, and the spring that was his lifeline ran salty and useless. After about a week, Al-Balawi announced that he was too weak to continue, bade his comrades abandon him, and wandered into the caverns to die. His followers dutifully brought the record of his death back to Baghdad and the Caliph, who ordered a search to retrieve his friend’s body.

Though no less than three expeditions were dispatched, Al-Balawi’s cave was never rediscovered and his body never found. A copy of his manuscript survives, though curiously the hieroglyphs he describes match no known Mesopotamian, Arabian, or even Egyptian script.

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It lovingly polished the latest scraps against a makeshift buffer, shaping then on the rougher wheel before bringing out a bright mirror shine. It was a moving piece, so there was even more work to be done: connections to be wired, servos to test, and firmware code to write from internal libraries.

Once the process was complete, it ran a diagnostic and then reached for a mirror shard it had found in the yellow zone. The new part looked excellent, a very good approximation of a left cheekbone and far better than the one that they had removed.

“I think it is time for another capture,” it said. Its partner agreed, their own cosmetic alterations still warm and wreathed in fresh solder-smoke.

The camera was a simple aperture, easily fixed with simple tools. But the film was an exceedingly complex emulsion that took months of painstaking manufacture. The camera could, in theory, hold a magazine of eight such films, but it had never taken more than a single exposure at a time. In fact, the logistics of such an endeavor were dizzying in the rare moments when it allowed itself to contemplate the possibility.

Laid out on a simple tripod, with the lighting artfully arranged, the camera was ready to be remotely triggered by air-bulb.

Sliding into the frame, the two subjects placed themselves in the positions they’d assumed hundreds of times before: leaned over a table, synthetic hair swept back, clustered together with their hands up in a pair of v-for-victory symbols.

With a click and a whirr, the film was exposed. The first figure slid forward to retrieve it, and looked at the result. “It is a good capture,” it said. “Much better than the last one.

The second nodded, servos whistling. “But there are still improvements to be made. The shape is right. It is more right than it has ever been. But the texture and color are still wrong.”

“Yes, and the eyes still prove to be the most difficult. But with time, it will prove a success.”

The development complete, the previous snapshot was snatched from its resting place, tucked in the mirror frame, and replaced with the new and improved model. It occupied a place of honor right next to the original.

On the one side, a picture of two young women in their best evening wear, smiling and flashing their victory for an unknown cameraman. On the other, the two patchwork automatons that had made it their personal mission to duplicate that photograph through continual self-modification.

They were right, though. The eyes were still wrong, simple circular lenses instead of the bright brown orbs. It would be difficult to replicate, even more difficult than the hair had been or the skin would be.

But they had all the time in the world to get it right.

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Internal Designation: “Osira”
Birth Name: Heidi Weissmuller
Aliases: Gertrude Wandmacher, Ellen Seabold, Jeanine Arras, Alia Øresund
DOB: 25/12/1970
Place of Birth: Leipzig, German Democratic Republic (“East Germany”)
Height: 1.75m (5’10”)
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Black

Dossier:
Subject born to party members in Leipzig; father was government accountant and mother was deputy chief of local Stasi field station. Subject demonstrated early aptitude for languages and accents, and was thus recruited for espionage training 1/1/1977.

Records are incomplete due to partial 1989 destruction of Stasi archives, but subject is believed to have been initially part of the “Hummelwerke” honeypot program. Subject may have been involved with the Active Measures program (“Trommelbergen”) as early as 1984 at age 14, but had certainly completed all or part of the training by 1989, when all Stasi espionage activities and training were suspended.

It is believed that, sometime between 1983 and 1987, Herr Weissmuller and Frau Weissmuller were denounced to the Stasi for planning to flee to the West. Ordinarily, the act of republikflucht would have been punished with imprisonment or hard labor, but the position of Frau Weissmuller with the Stasi seems to have aggravated the situation. They are not mentioned in official records after July 1987 and appear to have been executed. Information about who denounced them is not available, though analysis has suggested that it may have been their daughter Heidi.

As with many members of the “Trommelbergen” program, the subject disappeared in the chaos following the collapse of the GDR. It is believed that she and her cohort were recruited by the KGB at this point and underwent additional training, though the collapse of the Soviet Union at the end of 1991 put and end to this. There are records of “Trommelbergen” on the ground in Chechnya in 1996, acting as mercenaries in all but name, but it is unclear if the subject was one of them.

In the aftermath of the collapse of the iron curtain and the massacre of most “Trommelbergen” in the subsequent conflicts, the subject appears to have used the chaos as an opportunity to set herself up as a free agent. She served as an Armenian agent in Baku during the war with Azerbaijan, acted as an agent for first the Croats and later the Serbs in Bosnia, before working for the regime in Belarus for a time. It is unclear if the “Minsk Cache,” intelligence data sold to the United Kingdom in 1998, was provided by the subject, but there is reason to believe it was.

More definite data emerges in 1999, when the subject was again active in Serbia, working as a counterintelligence agent in Kosovo and serving as a middleman in the Chinese purchase of NATO hardware that was shot down by Serbian troops. Upon the war’s end, the subject left Serbian employment with documents that were sold to Dutch intermediaries and eventually proved significant in bringing various Serbian war criminals to justice.

The subject next emerged in Kabul in 2002, among the first intelligence agents to enter the city. She set herself up as a clearinghouse for local information, buying and selling to the highest bidder for cash. The subject was credited with the assassination of Omar Abdul al-Rahid, a Saudi citizen leading a group of foriegn fighters near Kandahar, but found it convenient to leave after the local Taliban posted a bounty. She reemerged in 2005 in Iraq, again serving as a liaison and clearinghouse of information for both the Coalition troops and their insurgent opponents.

In 2008, the subject acquired and sold information relating to North Korea’s arms deals with the fallen Iraqi regime, leading to another bounty on her head and a failed assassination attempt in Doha the following year. This lead to a rapid decamping to Syria, where the al-Assad regime offered her steady employment as a freelance intelligence agent and attaché with the Russian Embassy.

When the Syrian Civil War began in 2011, the subject attempted to take advantage of the situation by acting as an information broker but was trapped in the Siege of Aleppo early in the fighting and earned herself the enmity of both the Assad regime and its opponents. It appears that whatever kinds of deals and betrayals were required to extricate herself from the city burned bridges with virtually every faction in the war. Only by bribing a Kurdish contingent was she able to escape Turkey, and all indications are that the subject remains under a “shoot on sight” order with the Syrian Republican Guard. Though she left the area before the rise of ISIS, intelligence indicates that a similar order exists in territory they control.

As of this writing, the subject has been privy to an incalculable amount of human, material, and signals intelligence. However, they have proven again and again that they will readily desert any cause and betray its trust to the highest bidder. This has the dual effect of making them a Priority V prohibited source and virtually unemployable.

Skills:
Thanks to “Hummelwerke” training, the subject is fluent in German, Russian, English, Arabic, and Chinese. The former three are spoken with a high degree of mastery and subject has undergone additional training to mimic Berlin, Bavarian, Saxon, British, American, Australian, Moscow, and Kiev dialects. Arabic and Chinese are spoken at a lesser mastery level.

As with most former members of the “Trommelbergen,” the subject is capable with most common small arms and selected heavy/indirect fire systems. While this regiment also included a martial arts component, it is believed that the subject was never able to master this to any significant degree and as such prefers firearms or small concealable melee weapons.

Intended to act as saboteurs in the event of war with the West, “Trommelbergen” were trained to use explosives and other means to perform disruptive sabotage. It is believed that the subject retains much of this knowledge.

Due to extensive ground time in Germany, Russia, former Yugoslavia, and the Mideast, it is believed that the subject has a very good command of local custom. In particular, available information suggests that she is very adept at disguising herself as a traditional Muslim using a niqab or abaya.

Verdict:
Subject is a Priority V prohibited source and any contact other than detention is expressly forbidden. Under no circumstances is the subject to be used as an information source, intermediary, or agent. While there are no outstanding arrest warrants in the West, her detention and interrogation is considered to be in the national interest and is therefore pre-authorized, as is the use of extraordinary rendition and enhanced interrogation techniques.

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In light of the riots at the University of Braintree, where Brainist zombies openly espousing the murder of humans and the eating of their brains clashed with counter-protestors, many had expected Zombie President Brayne to issue a statement. In a press conference on the steps of his company, Brayne Trust, the president offered the following remarks:

“It’s sad that once again we are seeing paranoid humans taking advantage of solid zombie citizens to advance their agenda of hate.”

This had many humans up in arms, claiming that in failing to denounce the Brainists was akin to endorsing them. “The Brainists say that they should be able to crack open my head and feast on what lies within whenever they’re peckish, said counter-protestor Anthony McGee. “They’re literally saying they want to kill me, what’s so hard to denounce about that?”

Referring to the Zombie Wars, McGee added: “Didn’t we fight a war over this?”

The Zombie White House issued a clarifying statement later in the afternoon, noting that President Brayne “categorically discourages the eating of any brains under most circumstances.” Pressed for stronger language, both the Zombie Press Secretary and President Brayne himself insisted that the previously issued statements were “more than sufficient.”

For their part, Brainists saw the remarks as a clear victory. “President Brayne struck a blow for true zombie rights today,” said Brainerd Earl, the Grand Necromancer of the Cerebrum, Cerebellum, Colossum (CCC) Society. “Even if the time isn’t yet right for him to declare total support, we know he’s got our back.”

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Art Lover
Start your day at the Chattel House in the First Ward, where generations of human cultists have carved the agony of insanity into swirled patterns in the brick. Take an afternoon tour of the R’lyeh Musuem and marvel at the preserved ghouls on display as well as the raiments of Nyarlathotep the Crawling Chaos (on loan). Finish with a trip to The Gibberer for dinner and enjoy the sort of traditional non-normal matter food that sustained R’lyeh for years.

Health Nut
A jaunt around the exercise pens at the Indenturium is just what you need to quicken the blood; if it works for those who have pledged their souls to the Great Old Ones, it should work for you! Take a walk along the Non-Euclidean Trail on the outskirts of town next, and laugh at the other tourists seeing the sights via double-decker shoggoth. Your dinner will be at Cave to Table, where succulent free-range albino penguins and shoggoth squeezins are always a hit.

History Buff
Squat on the streets of R’lyeh with the cultists opposite the Tomb of Cthulhu where the sunken lord of R’lyeh lies dead and dreaming; the first to die suffer the least! An afternoon tour of the Miskatonic Annex will sate your need to know, filled as it is with artifacts reclaimed for R’lyeh from looters as well as seventeen of the twenty-seven known copies of The Necronomicon. Finally, the Norwegian Freighter Cafe is built into the very hulk of the ship that pierced the breast of Dread Cthulhu during his last rising.

Foodie
Aspiring gourmets need to sample local watering hole Shoggoth-to-Go, which offers traditional style protoplasm and excretions without any additives. If you’re in town during the Waxing Gibbous Festival, be sure to check out the Culinary Tents, where mad cultists are ground down for grist and the human form is mutilated into every foodstuff imaginable. Dinner at Asenath’s Doorstep Thing is a must, especially on Fridays, when guests are transmigrated into bodies with taste organs that cannot be described by the sane.

Hipster
The best R’lyeh music is played by the city’s vibrant Elder Thing community; hear locals flapping their radial wings in a mockery of flight at Yog-Sooth’s Juke Joint. Chances are that the R’lyeh Players will still be performing their long-running hit Necronomiconned at the Kadath Theater, which is accessible only in the fever dreams of a madman. Round out the day with a poetry reading at Ponape Scriptorium, and listen to the raw art flow as poets lose their sanity live onstage.

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As Brainstorm Bernard fades into a dull ice cream headache, Zombie President Brayne toured the devastated area today, offering remarks and pledges for zombie aid to the afflicted.

“We offer our thoughts and prayers to everyone stunned by the psychic feedback loop of Brainstorm Bernard, and pledge to rapidly and efficiently eat all the afflicted brains that are open for the taking,” said Brayne.

Brayne Administration officials, contacted for their comments, noted that President Brayne was “joking” and that no one should attach too much meaning to his “boyish autopsy room talk.”

“Look, the zombies of our nation elected President Brayne because they were tired of beltway zombie insiders,” said the Zombie Press Secretary in a statement. “That doesn’t mean that anyone should be alarmed or concerned about all this talk of eating brains. President Brayne would like to move past this gaffe and focus on accomplishing his agenda.”

When asked about the president’s agenda, which included campaign slogans like “Eat More Brains” and “Food For Thought,” the secretary demurred. Asked if President Brayne’s visit to the Brainstorm Bernard area would include eating any brains, she offered the following clarification: “The president is committed to picking the brains of civic leaders in his quest to achieve the agenda for which the zombie people elected him.”

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