Chapter 24: The Device Goes Off

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In an instant, everything changed. The device did not so much "go off" as free unseen winds of hideous speeds to race about, bombarding them all with air/color/sound/texture. Tim's attempt to aim the gun away from people was pointless: the blast affected everyone, in all directions.

Time, too, seemed to be affected. It sped up, it slowed down, it fluttered in the air; so palpable and tasty that one could almost grab it and rip off parts of it, then pop it into one's mouth and chew it. That is, if one could control one's movements enough.

The device glowed yellow and orange, then green, and then in a non-repetitive cloud of colors; on and off, on and off, more complex than a binary system could ever hope to be. Tim looked dazed as the room filled with more and more color. Dazed, and a little…stretched. It was as if the device was sucking him through the event horizon of a wormhole, and his molecules, his very being, were coming undone.

"Gibbs! We must do something!" Ziva cried, only to her ears it sounded like just a long wail on the wind, no words discernable.

Despite his guards, Tony tried scrambling to his feet, but the force of the device's winds of color made it hard for him to find balance. Fortunately, the wind had the same effect on the Nell-guards. Ziva and Gibbs both tried to fight the wind, and Ziva, moving severely bent over, after a long couple of minutes, made it to Tim.

She reached for the device, her long hair whipping in 100 directions at once. Her skin felt like an army of tiny bulldozers was running over it. Ziva shouted at Tim, but the sound was masked by the high-pitched whine from the device and the shrieking winds. Tim's lips moved, unnaturally slowly. Everything around them was slowing down, even though she felt her lower legs were rapidly being pulled away from her; stretched, stretched, stretched. Her cheeks felt sucked in; her skin tight around her eyes, which were watering. At least her thinking was mostly clear. I must get that thing away from McGee!

It was hard, so hard to fight the forces. She peeked over her shoulder. Tony was straining to get to her, his clothing flapping in the wind as hers was, but he wasn't gaining ground. Gibbs, to her horror, looked older, grayer, and weaker. His face showed the pain: the forces were having a terrible effect on him.

Even Eskerot was affected. He was stumbling, looking shocked, and trying to get out the back door. An agent leapt for him and brought him down, Ziva noticed. She then forced herself to turn her attention back to Tim.

Blood rose off his bandages, in globules, and hung suspended in the air around him, swirling in their own little vortexes. His skin took on a pale pink-white tone, slowly fading into white. It wasn't obvious whether he was still alive or not, though the device remained in his hands. Ziva fought the winds and the catch in her throat, and edged closer and closer…almost there…

Whap! She was knocked off her feet. Lindholm, she saw, looking up. The woman had her arm slung back, ready for a punch, although her stance did not indicate a practiced fighter. Ziva lunged and knocked Lindholm over, then scrambled for the device.

Tim held it tightly, still. He turned his head slightly…still alive!!...and looked at her; his lips clearly, although oh-so-slowly, forming the word No.

"You have to let go, McGee!" she shouted, at least in her mind. "It is feeding off you! It is killing you and you are allowing it to have power! It could kill us all!" It was no use; he couldn't hear her, and she could feel her lips moving as slowly as his.

Again he said No. But that wasn't all he was trying to say. His lips opened into an oval. An 'O', she recognized! Then they came together, as if blowing a kiss, or making the letter 'P'…no, she was right the first time! Not about the kiss, but the blowing. The letter 'F'! He was saying, 'Off!' Off what? Off switch, it must be!

She placed her hands on the device, feeling its smooth surface as it sent tiny needles shooting up her arms. Nothing like a switch was apparent; to know for sure, she'd have to wrest the device from Tim. He wouldn't, or couldn't, give it up.

Drat! There was Lindholm again. Ziva gave her a hard kick with her boot so far, far away, and the woman went down once more.

Ziva was sweating now, sensing that dangerous levels of something were being reached. She felt weak and nauseated, but pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Once more she pushed her hands over the device. There must be an off switch, there must be…

Then a thought hit her. Suppose there is not one. Suppose the device was expected to keep going until it runs out of energy from its host, and then it loses power. Then I must get it away from McGee!

She braced a foot against the chair in which he sat, and tugged. Because of his debility, it didn't take much for her strength to break his grip. With sudden ease, the device was now in her hands alone, though it felt tremendously heavy. She thought if she dropped it, it would crash through the second and first floors and land in the basement.

But there was a marked change. The colored winds abated, and the noise level lessened. However, the device seemed to be seeking a new host as a source of its power…

Ziva's sight dimmed and then disappeared altogether. She swore her organs strained against the muscles and bones that held them in place. She was being turned inside out; everything racing straight up her neck, and out through the top of her head…

"Ziva! Drop it! Let it go!!" Tony yelled over her screams. Pulling off his NCIS jacket, he wrapped it around his hands and then yanked the device away from her. He then dropped it to the ground and let it lie there, humming but covered. He also caught Ziva as she lost her balance and fell, and gently laid her down a bit away from the device.

The air returned nearly to normal; just a bit super-charged and glowing. Two agents handcuffed Ekerot, who glared at them. "You can't charge me with anything," Ekerot snarled, "Because your little minds can't comprehend what you see here."

"We'll try hard," Gibbs promised. "I'm sure some of your employees will talk."

But then something else happened. All of the Nells suddenly looked blank, and pitched forward. "What the—" Tony cried, as he and the other agents raced to them. They felt for pulses, and found none.

"You'll face a number of charges of murder, anyway," said Gibbs coldly. "Was it poisoned Kool-Aid that you gave them?"

"They're not dead, Agent Gibbs," Ekerot smiled. "They were never alive."

"Androids," Ziva breathed, as she groggily sat up. "His entire staff, all the Nells, were androids. That matches what we saw at the opposite end of the hall. He made androids on site."

"Oh, I can't take credit for all that," Ekerot said with a cold grin. "My associate, Marthe, here, actually designed and created them. You were a frustrated fashion designer, was that it, my dear?" he said to her with a trace of mockery.

Lindholm was looking a little gray. "Never mind the jokes, Nels. You know you could not have built up the workforce without me, and the Nell assistants I made for you."

"Ah, true. I am in your debt for that, my dear. And as we had planned all along, with the device now out of our hands, the Nells are no longer needed, and so they have been terminated. But there is the chicken and the egg question. Which came first? Where did the first Nell come from?"

"Why, I created her, of course. Just like I created all the others, and the McGee android, which would have been a perfect infiltrator for us, if only he didn't encompass McGee's sappy nobility…"

Ekerot shook his head. "No, my dear. Your memory is at fault because I wanted it that way. I made the first Nell. I made you."

Her hands flew to her mouth. "That's not true! You're lying! I'm human; every bit as much as any of you! I have perfect memory of my entire life!" Her voice started to shake.

"You remember the false life history I programmed into you. It was amusing to do it once, but then I left the creation of the other Nells to you. You could make them any size and color, and dress them as you liked, while I did the real work. And now, my dear, your usefulness is over. You were made more durable than the others, but you can be eliminated. Goodbye, dear Marthe."

"No! No! Please!!" she screamed. Ekereot merely twisted a ring on his finger, and she dropped like a dead weight. "Marthe Lindholm" was no more.

"Did I ever mention how much I dislike science fiction?" Ziva said wryly, holding one of Tim's hands.

He was breathing harshly now, and his eyes were closed. His ordeal had taken so much out of him. Gibbs held his other hand, eyes scanning his face. Hang on, McGee. You've made it this far. Don't give up now.

An agent from another team ran in. "Ambulance is here for McGee, Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded, and motioned to people. "Take Ekerot in, and the…thing…and all the, uh, ladies."

"Murder one, Gibbs?"

"I don't think you can kill someone who was never alive. But we're in really gray territory here. Probably androids will have rights someday…but I'm glad I'll be retired by then and won't have to worry about those cases."

Tim stirred a little as he was loaded onto a gurney. Tony leaned over him with a smile. "And I'll bet you never thought this was happening so close to home, eh, Probie?"

Ziva looked thoughtful. "I wonder how much this house would go for?"

"Speculate later," said Gibbs, as he reached for his phone to call Jenny. "We still have a long, long day ahead of us."