Jenny tugged on Roland's arm, dragging him back into the laboratory. She stood in the center of the room and began shouting for the Spectre to come out of hiding. "Come on, mister‑ I want to speak with you!" she hollered.
A shadow approached slowly from a far corner, checking for traps before stepping into the room. It was followed steadily by varius lighter shadows. For the first time Jenny saw what the Spectre really was. It was nothing more than one man with his appearance split and scattered into shadows by a perception filter. That's why she had been able to punch the lead Spectre, while Roland's hands went straight through the others.
"You called?" the Spectre sounded perturbed.
"We know what you are," Jenny said. "You can take the perception filter off."
The figure hesitated before reaching to switch off the device on his belt. His appearance normalized to reveal that he was Isaiah Montgomery, the inventor of the IRCM. Roland gasped, and Jenny smiled.
"I must say, your plan was brilliant," Jenny gushed. "Would you mind explaining it to my somewhat confused friend?"
Montgomery cleared his throat and began his tale. Twelve years before he had rented the laboratory and used it for his experiments in the Cayton Project. He had worked with his colleagues for two years to perfect the module before testing it. When he thought the machine was ready his colleagues stepped into the portals and became suspended.
"I had no idea that the portals might be dangerous," he explained. "I expected them to function similarly to a vortex manipulator."
"Instead your coworkers were exposed completely to the vortex," Jenny added, "and you stopped paying your rent around that time. Why?"
"I didn't want anyone investigating my colleagues' disappearances, so I made it seem as if we had skipped town. I continued to work with the portals in hopes of freeing them, but nothing worked. When you came I thought you might notice something I hadn't."
Roland stood behind Jenny, completely baffled. "What I still don't understand is how you fended off the city officials."
"The perception filters," Jenny and Montgomery said in unison.
Montgomery looked flustered. "Yes, when the inspector came I placed them around all of my belongings so the place would look empty. I figured the city would try to sell the building, which would buy me more time. I never expected someone to actually buy it." He glanced at Roland and then turned to Jenny. "That's why I disguised myself with the filter and invented the 'Spectres'. I had hoped to frighten you off. Now I am glad that you came, because you can tell me how you escaped the portal. That's all that really mattered to me. My colleagues take precedence to science."
"Well, that's nice," Jenny said. "Now we can rescue them all and turn you in to the police."
"Jenny! Don't scare the man," Roland interjected. "He was only trying to help his friends, and it's probably too late to save them now."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that."
"Besides that, I'd like to have a look at that perception filter of yours,"
Roland said to Montgomery.
The frightened scientist tossed Roland the perception filter and made a dash for the front door. It was too late to save the Cayton Project, and the only thing left that he cared about was himself. Anything was better than prison; he was getting too old for that.
"Come back here!" Roland shouted. He tossed the filter to Jenny and ran after the middle‑aged man.
Montgomery may've got a head start, but Roland had the advantage of youthful speed. When he caught up he tackled the man and restrained his arms behind his back. Jenny followed closely behind.
"Good grief, Roland," she sighed. "I hope you didn't hurt him!"