'You know,' shouted Joe, 'this. Isn't. Exactly. Ow.' He clutched his head. 'This isn't. Exactly how. I'd pictured. Our transporta-Ow!'
The small carriage, more like a box with turd-shaped lid, skipped and bumped its way along the wide causeway, carried along by another of dem dere shape-shifting Cowboy creatures. Or the same one. It was hard to tell. What was not hard to tell was the small flashing light on its metallic chain.
An ode to chains:
If it were not for chains
There'd be no need for brains
There would be only veins
Shooting from a stray artery from a punctured gunshot wound after the suspect attempted to flee on foot in a northerly direction and would not subsist in a timely manner commensurate with the authority of the individual proscribing said orders, under section 5(c)iii of the penal code.
Instead of showing you the animal, or the carriage, or the large lump slowly growing on the top of Joe's head (which would have been funny, I grant you), I'll instead present a visual representation of Ridley's view of the city as he sighed breathlessly into the warm air:
 |
| Figure 5-1: The view |
Joe continued: 'I would have. Thought. Ow! An. Advanced civilisation would. Have come up with. Something better than. This.'
Ridley merely rested his chin against a relaxed arm and sighed.
'And this bracelet thingy is already irritating my skin,' said Joe, looking down at the metal ring around his ankle. While he didn't forgive Ridley for bringing him here, he was feeling better after the shower and new clothes. Especially the new clean clothes. Although red wasn't really his colour.
Ridley sighed again.
'What does this tech duty entail?' said the noob in the compartment over, sharing his own conversation with Adam N Douglas.
'Entail?' said Adam N Douglas. 'Oh, it entails doing what you're told, oh yes it does.' It was like he was trying to uphold the previous enthusiasm, the rehearsed lightness, but his words betrayed his emotions, his face wretched and gaunt.
'Are you OK?' said the noob.
'Am I O- Of course I am OK, little one. Of course.' The man breathed out heavily, undoing the top button of his suit. 'Boy is it hot tonight, yes indeedy.'
'Do you think they can zap you with it or is it just for identification?' continued Joe, looking down at the single spot of light flashing constantly around his ankle. 'I can't believe you forced me to come to another planet just so I can be put under house arrest.'
Ridley grinned out the carriage.
'Abrahamic-Deity expletive-intensifier it, it was one girl,' exclaimed Joe. 'And she wasn't even that hot.'
Ridley straightened. 'Wasn't that-' He choked. 'You've had an emotional day so I'll forgive you this one time. That, my friend, was the most beautiful woman you will ever see. Wasn't that hot? You would never have seen such beauty if you weren't here under “house arrest”.' He didn't perform the air quotes (thankfully), but he did change the last two words into a Shatner-esque performance.
'She was fine, nothing special,' said Joe.
'Did you see her thick, juicy lips? Her large vacuous blue eyes, with those overhanging eye lashes? Those long legs that just went up into heaven. I can see it all now. And that long, wavey blonde hair that-'
'Wavey blonde?' said Joe. 'What are you talking about wavey blonde? She had dark hair. What are you, love-blind?'
'Err, I think I'd know if the woman of my dreams was a blonde or a brunette, my forgetful friend. It was the kind of hair that dangles down over your chest while you're doing the old reverse-'
'You really are deluded,' interrupted Joe. 'The female-dog had short dark hair. Almost in a bun. And her eyes weren't even blue. Not that I noticed.'
'I think the excitement of the day has screwed with your synapses,' added Ridley.
'I might be able to help,' said the noob, his face awash with empathy for the white-suited chaperone sitting across from him. 'I mean, I'm not so good with people but I'm good with problems. Give me a problem and I'll find a solution. No problems!' He gave a little chuckle.
Adam N Douglas just stared at the noob. 'Unless you got some reds ma man, you ain't gonna help squat.'
'Reds? What are those?'
'You don't know reds? Damn, boy. I been on this rock less than ten minutes and I knew all about the reds. What they are, how they feel, and who got 'em. Well I did. Then I guess I got to know the reds a little too closely. Got real cosy with them, see. And that's how they got me. Cornered me like a rat. Said I was a good people person, though. That saved me. That's what gave me the job. All I gotta do is be nice and happy and I get my reds. Cept the stuff they give me don't seem to do it no more, ya see? So I gotta go scavenging, just like the rat I am, looking for what I can find.'
The noob just sat and listened to all this. Every sentence seemed to evoke another question inside him but he made sure not to interrupt. His mother said it was only good manners to do so. His father said it was a good way to learn more about “them” than they know about you, which gave you leverage. The noob didn't want leverage right now, and he wasn't concerned with manners, he simply felt sorry for the man and wanted to let him say the words he needed to say.
'So if you ain't got no reds,' continued Adam N Douglas, 'then you ain't no use to me.'
The noob nodded, understandingly. He itched at the metal ankle bracelet around his, well, ankle.
'And you won't have to worry about that for long,' said Adam N Douglas. 'They'll use something else to keep you around. Maybe reds, maybe not. There's always somethung, oh yes there is, somethung not physical. Emotional chains are much stronger, ya see?'
Now watch as we seamlessly switch back to the other conversation taking place between our friendly pair of word-smiths.
| ( | 'Yes,' said Ridley. | ) | 5 |
| 'No,' said Joe. | |||
I hope you don't mind me reducing mind-numbing repetition with mathematical constructs.
'How can you possibly get her height that wrong?' said Joe. 'She was short, real short, and petite.'
'Pfft,' said Ridley. 'She was almost as tall as me. And those legs...'
'No,' said Joe.
'Yes,' said Ridley.
While the happily married couple were bickering, they didn't notice the road change from a bumpy cobble to a bumpy dirt. They also didn't notice the smaller dirt spirals popping up more frequently. They completely missed the large hulk of a man waving at them, wide-eyed, with cheesy grin.
'No,' said Joe.
'Yes,' said Ridley.
'Here we are, boyos,' said Adam N Douglas.
The cowboy stopped dead, leaving the carriage itself to slide slowly to a stop against the creature's...backside? Probably best not to think about it.
They emerged under a diffuse light. The noob looked up, expecting to see clouds, instead greeted by a yellow misty hue. A couple spots appeared brighter than others, but overall the sky possessed a kind of graduated colour – lighter yellow higher up, becoming almost brown at the horizon. The noob hadn't seen grass since arriving and this was no exception: before them was a large flat area of dirt. If it could be said to lead up to anything, it would be the slightly larger spiral on the left.
Tech duty, hey? He might get to see and learn advances way beyond comprehension. How exciting was this?
'Welcome,' said a voice. Oh yeah, and there was a woman standing before them, standing in the way of the technology.
Joe stopped midway through another 'No,' and instead uttered an 'Oh, hi.'
'Take me to your leader,' said Ridley, robotically. Apparently he'd successfully evacuated the love force-field and was himself once more.
The noob gave up a nervous chuckle.
'Wow, original that one,' said Joe under his breath.
'Oh, I am your leader,' said the woman.
She wasn't as cold sounding as the beautiful girl in that large hall, the red head, but she didn't seem weak in the slightest. From all the books the noob had read, women were meant to be either cold-hearted female-dogs with a high sex drive and a higher body count, or weak damsels who needed saving. How could pulpy science fiction, the purveyor of humanity, not have included this archetype? Or had it, and he'd just taken it differently? It wouldn't be the first time he saw things in a unique (i.e. wrong) way.
'My name is Connie,' said the woman. 'You are, as of now, under my care. I have one unbreakable rule: if you have any problem you can't solve yourself, come to me or another human worker. Do not seek help from outside the Rat's Nest. Everything stays within these fences.'
She motioned to her sides. The noob looked. No fences. Not even evidence of some kind of energy barrier.
'If you break this rule, you will be returned to the O.L.'s. They will be happy to add more guinea pigs to their testing facilities. I don't think you will be quite so happy about the situation. Isn't that right, Mr Douglas?'
Adam N Douglas shot up to attention, straightening his suit, his eyes a horrible red. 'Err yes miss, yes indeedy.'
O.L's? The noob wondered what that stood for and which particular race it was. He'd seen a few since arriving. None of them looked more dominant than the others. It was more like races on earth. Maybe it was simply a collective noun for them all.
'This is work detail, not a prison,' said Connie. 'However, you can not leave the Rat's Nest unless out on official clean up duty with my explicit signed consent.'
Clean up? The noob imagined himself in bright orange, head to toe, picking up rubbish by the side of the road. This wasn't sounding very techy. He looked around at Adam N Douglas who was more jittery than before. He felt a bit helpless. If they offer you anything, he thought to himself, especially anything red, don't take it.
'However, if you follow my rules,' continued the woman, 'we will get along just fine.' She smiled. Not a fake smile, like everyone else on this planet seemed to give, but genuine.
'Oh, 'scuse me miss, I was just wondering, oh yes I was, before I get back on track, head on back as it were, I was just wondering whether you had any...' A lean in and a whisper: 'Any spare reds?'
'Mr Douglas,' said Connie, 'if I find even one particle of red dust in the Rat's Nest I won't be a happy camp leader. Do you know what happens when I'm not a happy camp leader?'
'Oh yes miss, yes I remember, oh I do.'
'So I won't need to do a search when you come by tomorrow, will I Mr Douglas?'
'Oh no ma'am.'
'If I did, I wouldn't find anything anyway, would I Mr Douglas?'
'Oh no ma'am, certainly not ma'am.'
'Now run along Mr Douglas. These boys have acclimatising to do.'
'Err yes Miss, certainly.'
Adam N Douglas made his getaway without so much as a goodbye.
'Farewell my white-suited friend,' Ridley bemoaned in a mock tone. 'I trust I will meet you again.'
'Not if I can help it,' interrupted Connie. 'You're only new, but you'll need to learn pretty quickly how to keep the right kind of company. And that isn't it.'
She watched the carriage trail off in a plume of dust.
'Come,' she said, and walked off.
All three boys trailed together.
'See, things are looking up,' said Ridley.
'Yeah, brilliant,' said Joe. 'Especially the part about being a prisoner here. That fills my heart.'
'We've only been here a day and already found a job! Next up we'll find out the best spots to play. What do you think of Connie? Bit old, but you'd still do her, right? Nice rack.'
The noob looked at the back of Connie's head and would swear he saw a smile on her cheeks. He looked around at the flat barren area. No vegetation, no people, and definitely no technology.
They slowly made their way to the larger spiral. Its top looked haphazard, like it was finished in a hurry. Inside, it didn't look much different. The high ceilings reminded the noob of the great hall back in the dark tower, but this time there was a reason. Climbing almost to the top were row after row of frames, made out of what looked like solid mud. Some of the frames were filled with...stuff. Mostly it was empty.
'This is the warehouse,' said Connie. 'The heart of the Rat's Nest.'
'Bit quiet for a warehouse,' said Joe.
'Yes,' said Connie.
She walked on briskly. The boys followed.
The noob craned his neck but could not make out the contents on any of the shelves. He was getting nervous. He hadn't taken anything apart in days, and certainly hadn't put anything back together in the mean time. His fingers were getting itchy. This is how they get you, he thought. This is my weakness. Guard it with your life. No, maybe not your life, because then you'd be dead and who wants that? But guard it with your almost-life.
He turned inside a small door and bumped right into the back of Ridley.
'You, ah, you mind backing off a bit there noob? I'm sure you're getting randy but it's not really the time or the place, ey?'
'Oh, um, sorry,' said the noob, rubbing his nose.
He was getting a bit sick of the gay talk. They'd only met two weeks ago, on the noob's second shift, but Ridley was always making fun of people by calling them gay. I wonder if he's in the closet, he thought. He's always very open about being with all those girls. A little too open.
'Oi fairy! You comin' or what?'
Ridley was standing at the end of a long corridor, waiting before a small archway.
'Yes,' said the noob, hurrying along.
Inside the door was a room with four bunk-beds, all neatly made. At least they looked like beds. Perhaps slabs of mud would be a better description. The top bunks appeared to be floating above the lower ones. The noob looked closer at how they angled down from the walls and suspected they were suspended with some kind of tougher lining that was latched into the walls. Simple stuff, really. Not magical at all.
Beside the beds were, well, nothing. There was a floor, air, a kind of earthy scent; which, to me, equals nothing.
Before I get any angry letters from the air society, let me just point out that I'm not in any way anti-air. I've known air all my life. Constant companions. I even inhaled once or twice at university. Just don't tell anyone, OK? Bit of air never hurt nobody.
'Sleeping quarters have been arranged for you,' said Connie.
'We have to share a room?' said Joe, uncomfortably.
'I'd rather not share a bunk with-' started the noob.
'I'm on top!' interjected Ridley. Nope, not gay at all.
'You can all have separate rooms if you'd prefer,' said Connie. She looked tired for the first time. 'This place isn't exactly running at full capacity. We get plenty of workers coming in, but we also lose plenty.'
'Lose?' said Joe. 'Lose how?' He was unusually attentive.
'Perhaps that's someth-' started Connie before hearing a voice outside the room.
'Miss Connie,' it said, 'the street passes ran out yesterday and there's three visits planned for today so-'
'Ah,' said Connie, 'I'll be right with you.' She turned back to the boys. 'You can each take separate quarters or you can share this one. I know what it feels like when you're new and how it helps to have someone you know close by. Whatever you choose is up to you. Now excuse me for a moment. Someone will come by later to collect you and show you the ropes.'
She left. Which left the boys on the left side of the room. Alone.
'Gaygay-noob here'll probably want us to sleep in the same room,' said Ridley. 'Same bunk most likely.'
'No,' said the noob. 'I do not mind sleeping in different rooms.'
'Oh come on. We know you'd be too scared. Typical.' He sighed. 'We'll just have to put up with it.'
'I don't know about the noob, but I'd certainly prefer different rooms,' said Joe. 'I can't stand sleeping with anyone.'
'Gee, don't know why you're a single old man,' said Ridley.
'I really don't mind sleeping apart or together,' said the noob.
'I bet ya don't mind sleeping together,' mocked Ridley. 'Sorry Joe, I think it'd be best for newbie here to all stay together.'
'Since when do you care about the noob?' said Joe.
'I don't. I just think we need stick together. If it's like any other prison I know – and I've watched almost every prison drama to grace television – they like to separate the new arrivals and have their way with them. We-' He looked at the noob, then back to Joe. 'You and me won't like that.'
'This isn't exactly that kind of prison,' said Joe. 'I don't think it translates to our current predicament.'
'All right, all right,' said Ridley. 'Pick a bed. I'll let you guys go first.'
The noob followed the suggestion order without question, picking the first “bed” he saw.
I think it's best to give you a detailed schematic of the room at this point. As you can see in the figure below, the bed layout wasn't uniform or symmetric. WARNING: Those with bedroom-related OCD or a degree in Feng Shui should look away now.
 |
| Figure 5-2: Room Layout |
The noob picked bed #2.
Joe umm'd and ahh'd for some time, mumbling about the positives and negatives to each of the possible choices.
If there was a window in the room, and if the sun weren't diffused by the dirty atmosphere, the rays of light would have moved across the hardened mud of the floor in a kind of time lapse fashion, with Ridley stomping back and forth at high speed.
In a moment of clarity Joe, at length, picked bed number 1. No, 4! No 3! No no, definitely 1! Yep. 1! Maybe.
Ridley picked bed #3.
'Are you sure?' said Joe.
'Yeah. Three works fine for me.'
'You wouldn't prefer, oh I dunno, bed four perhaps?'
'Nah, three's fine. When do you think they serve breakfast here?'
'I am not sure it is breakfast time,' said the noob.
'No? What time do you think it is?' said Ridley. He said it without sarcasm. He said it without a hint of derision. He said it...honestly?
'Because I kind of chose bed one on the assumption you'd pick four,' said Joe, continuing his own conversation.
'I am not sure of the time just yet,' said the noob.
'Ha! Not sure of the time. Good one, noob.'
The noob looked at him apprehensively. He was sure that Ridley wasn't making fun of him. Pretty sure. So what was the big change that meant he (being the noob) was suddenly visible to him (being Ridley)?
That paragraph got a bit too confusing, so I think we'll just move on.
'That bed number four looks a bit larger,' said Joe. 'Might be good if it needed to hold more than person, ey?'
Ridley simply ignored Joe's insipid droning about the damn placement of the damn beds. It was certainly getting on my own nerves, so I respect his restraint.
'And another thing,' said Joe, 'do either of you hear a kind of...voice?'
They were all silent.
'What do you mean, a voice?' said the noob.
'A voice. Like...loud and in your hea-'
Just then a voice blasted through the walls and made the noob's spine go all tingly. But not in a good way.
'Where abouts?' it boomed from another room.
Then stomping.
Then a large shape at the door frame.
'Tank!' shouted Joe, with so much enthusiasm it needed three exclamation marks!!!
Episode V is dedicated to the hilarity that is post-modern art.
Find episode VI here.
© 2013 Ben Safta
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Australia License
