The O.L. floated above the air, draped in cloth that fell to the floor in long strips. Connie held her breath as Micky smiled further, bearing his teeth to the O.L., almost giving a chuckle. The auditor responded with an unblinking stare. The only sounds were the distant scratching of boxes being pulled from their shelves and slipped back in, an army of efficient Gruerbs hard at work.
Anne looked over to the large archway leading to the housing wing.
The O.L.'s eye twitched slightly. Then, almost imperceptibly, a nod. Micky turned back to the others, his smile stuck in place.
The Dren hovered just inside the bedroom, scanning for any signs of life or technology. It sensed the acute non-presence of Joe. It sensed it so strongly that it floated to the corner, near the three beds, and examined the area. Yes, the definite sense of no life, much stronger here. Its semi-corporeal hand pressed against the hard mud wall, against a slight singe mark. It paused. Then floated out the room.
The audit didn't last much longer. The Gruerbs finished their work and exited the building without word. Apparently this was a good sign. The Dren had returned, bearing no message after their recon. Even the O.L. had finished ticking off the names of all personnel. Before leaving, it paused inside the warehouse, staring. It didn't seem too happy. They all sensed it. They all hated the shivers that ran down their spines, but enjoyed the feeling of potential freedom and the continued existence of the Rat's Nest.
Once they were gone, Connie told the team to double check each aisle. It wasn't common for an O.L. to be present at an audit. It meant they were either doing something wrong, or something very right. In cases where they wanted to shut you down, auditors had been known to mess about with the inventory and then return the next day for a second check. Connie wouldn't let that happen here. She told Ridley and The Tank to check outside and make sure they weren't coming back, while she tried to work out what to do about The New Guy.
Before any of that happened, Anne had already shot to the bedroom. She touched the same singed mark as the Dren. Inside her confusion lived some hope, small and timid, like a popping corn shaking in a pan, ready to explode into delicious goodness.*
*I'm a little hungry right now.
Isaac peered over Anne's shoulder. After taking note of the singe mark on the wall, he immediately turned to Anne. 'Ah, good. Come wit me.'
Anne gave him a bit of her confusion. It's always nice to share. He simply deflected it with his level 5 confidence (he'd powered-up during the last scene).
Isaac led her down the long passageway, kicked the switch under the shelf, and waited for the doors to clank open. Anne stared at small scratches in the wall as it slowly opened up. The brightness made them both cover their eyes. A darker patch of movement within enticed Anne to push past Isaac, on into the Play Pen.
Joe was hunched over what looked like a toy car in Section Yellow (engineers are nothing if not imaginative). He looked up nonchalantly at the sound of footsteps approaching.
Everything in her body told her to wrap her arms around him and hug him tight. Every part of her being told her to scream and laugh and cry. But being in control means doing so at the most emotional moments. She simply allowed herself a smile. A large smile. More of a beam, really.
'Thought we'd lost you,' she said.
'Same,' said Joe. Was it simply nerves or annoyance in his voice?
'But how...' Anne started.
She forgot to end the question, but Joe knew what she meant.
'I don't really know,' he said. 'I was in the bedroom, up against the wall, holding onto this thing.'
He showed the blackened TRD* (Transmitter Removal Device – see episode VII) in his hand. Anne stared at it and was already beginning to understand. It didn't explain how he got here, but the reasons for his tone began to add up.
*I should really use more acronyms. Or, to put it another way, ISRUMA.
'I think I stepped on something,' said Joe, 'then whamo! Here I am.'
Anne realised she was breathing heavily and tried to control her body, slow down her heart beat.
'Ya, I sink I can help wiv dat,' said Isaac.
He explained the intricacies of the matter conduit device: how it ripped matter apart into quarks and antiquarks, something about a strange flavour which went right over my head (but reminded me of that ten year old beer I have at the bottom of my fridge), how it then converted the quarks and antiquarks into time, translating duration for distance, and how it re-materialised you on the other end.* Or didn't. That was one of the current flaws.
I'm pretty proud of this idea. No one else in the history of sf has used quantum mechanics in an explanation of how a device or process works. This has got to be the first. Ever! What I'm trying to say is, Quantum Did It!tm
Joe nodded his head as if understanding. 'So,' he said, 'that thing I stepped on was one end of the device. Which is connected, by some quantum strangulation or something, to this other end which happened to be in this secret room you've got going on here.'
'Ya. Ve need to have bosth ends connected for ze matter to be sent.'
'But I was just in the bedroom,' said Anne, 'and there wasn't anything else there. No other end. Just a singed wall.'
'Ya,' said Isaac. 'If you are physically touching ze device, zen it comes wit you to your destination. It becomes vun vay.'
Vun vay? Oh, one way. That could be interesting.
'But,' continued Isaac, 'zere is vun sing I do not understand. Vy vas zis device in ze bedroom? How did she get zere?'
They all turned at a creak by the wide-open doorway.
At this point, I feel it only fair to point something out, and perhaps teach you a thing or two (you whippersnapper, you). There are many ways to build suspense and to keep people reading. You may have noticed a few minor “cliff-hangers” at the end of each episode. That's about the cheapest, simplest and ugliest way to get you to read the next episode. It isn't very...refined. If I were a better writer (and I am – just don't tell anyone), then the engaging characters and interesting plot lines, mixed in with some insightful themes and important topics, would be enough to ensure the good reader's interest. Alas, I resort to cheap tricks like writing a completely unnecessary paragraph on suspense without really teaching you anything, all in an effort to prolong the intrigue I hope you're feeling. Who do those footsteps belong to? Have the auditors returned already?
Damn, I should have ended the episode here. Look, just pretend that was a really quick installment and now you have to wait a month (a whole month!) to read what comes next. So do me a favour and go and grab a drink or a snack, or do the dishes or watch a short lolcat video on Youtube before continuing with the next paragraph. It'll make me feel better for my mistake.
I said take a break.
No, seriously.
You're still reading.
I ain't no chump. I'm well versed in psychology, and I know that less than 3% of you will have taken a break by now. Less than three! Hang on, if I were to write that a little more mathematically, you'd have: <3%.
I think I'm on to something. If I were a teenage girl I'd read that as: you love percentages! Or you love balls. I'll bear both possibilities in mind. Can never be too careful. Don't worry, you'll get at least 80% more balls in this episode!
As I was saying:
'Oh,' said a small voice in the corner of the room. They all flashed their attention on the noob. 'Sorry,' he said. 'I had the other end of the matter conduit device in my pocket when the aliens came and...well...I had to put it somewhere.' He shrugged.
'Bout the best mistake you've made, noob,' said Joe. The noob flashed red. 'But I do feel like I was kept in the dark about this little number.' He looked up and around at the Play Pen.
The others gave him expressions of embarrassment (the noob), superiority (Isaac) and coyness (Anne). But only Anne decided to respond in a more oratory form. And even that was a subtle change of subject:
'Thankfully they didn't find this place,' she said.
'They tried,' said Joe.
Isaac become at once more serious. 'Zey did?'
'I heard scratching and other sounds, like moans. To be honest, it was quite scary. Then again, I'd just had my matter unwittingly transmuted and flown through space so who knows, I could have been hearing the cries of the dead.'
Don't you love morbidity spoken in such an innocuous form?
'The sounds eventually died away,' said Joe. 'Then I heard the worst sound I'd ever heard.'
Anne subconsciously leaned in closer.
'It started slow, like a squeal. Then it became more of a squelch. Then the whole room vibrated to the baritone of a massive* fart.'
*I was able to use that word since Ridley is nowhere to be seen.
Anne covered a laugh with her hand. As she looked at the Kaplongji, she could have sworn its gigantic face turned a pale shade of red.
The next day was more relaxed. A new load of tech had arrived courtesy of the twins. Joe and The Tank were filling hardened mud boxes with the portions that weren't of any real use. Ridley leant against one of the aisles, restlessly staring at Joe. The noob was probably far off, somewhere else, doing something uninteresting.
The post-audit audit had not turned up any additional pieces of contraband, which made Connie even more concerned. It's like the net was being tightened slowly, imperceptibly.
Her tenseness didn't seep into the others, however, and so the day seemed to melt away. If they were on Earth, the long arching shadows of the afternoon sun would be getting longer and archier. But on this planet the gloom just got gloomier.
Ridley laughed.
Joe looked up. 'What are you laughing at?'
'Wish I could have seen your face when you got transported. Bet you solid-matter-excreted yourself.'
'I wish you'd actually do your job and help out, rather than leaving it to the Tank and me.'
'Yeah!' said The Tank, hearing his name.
'I am helping,' protested Ridley. 'Someone has to check up on you two.'
Joe went back to thinking about Isaac's matter conduit and all the possibilities. Well OK, one possibility in particular: getting away from here. If he'd known the thing existed he would have made plans already. There was a lot to think about, a lot to consider. Could the thing take them back to earth? Did he even want to go back? He definitely wanted out of this place. No offence to the inhabitants of the Rat's Nest, he just wasn't keen on authority figures overstepping their bounds. Authority figures stepping gently within their bounds was bad enough.
At least, he was trying to think about this. Instead, his mind wandered to Anne and to the TRD she'd given him. The more he thought, the more it seemed like a set up. Not a bad plan, really: give him the only evidence of illegal tech, along with a supposedly non-functioning transmitter. Then when he's inevitably caught they could blame him for it all and plead ignorance.
But it didn't seem right. Despite having a bad record with first impressions*, it really felt different with Anne. She seemed like the most genuine person he'd ever met. Even more than Ridley, who, despite his many (many, many) faults, would tell it to you straight.
*His first exposure to 20th century Russian history and Stalin ended with an unbridled laugh at the picture of the funny looking man with the thick moustache. Things got worse when he took an instant liking to the picture of another funny looking man a few countries over, with a thin moustache and strangely parted hair.
The subject matter of Ridley's humour clearly hadn't changed as he laughed again. This was interrupted by loud footsteps echoing in the warehouse. Around the corner turned Anne.
'I thought you was Connie,' said The Tank.
'Not yet,' said Anne.
Ridley gave another little laugh.
'What are you laughing at?' said Joe.
'Nothing,' said Ridley. He chuckled once more.
Anne ignored Ridley and looked over at Joe: 'You up for a patrol?'
'Patrol?'
'Yes. The locals don't always like it when we confiscate their tech. Sometimes they'll try to rush in and take it back. So it's best to do some trips around the yard. A physical presence makes a big difference.'
She spoke in a neutral tone, which came off a little cold. Joe wasn't sure if there was something to his earlier thoughts or not.
Then she smiled. This changed everything. His whole body relaxed and his stomach played a few games of tennis. Meanwhile, his mind chastised itself for even doubting her for a second.
'Sounds dangerous,' he said.
'No, they're mostly harmless,' said Anne. 'If they're desperate it just means they think less, which makes them easier to catch.'
Joe thought it still sounded dangerous, but he found himself agreeing to the patrol.
'Hold up,' said Ridley, getting to his feet. 'I'll come too.'
'Oh,' said Joe. 'You will?'
'Sure. Sounds like fun. Don't mind, do you?'
He said the last part to Anne. Joe looked over at Anne, too.
She stared back at Ridley and simply said 'I don't mind.' Then she was gone.
The pups followed quickly.
'So, this may be a silly question, but that thing you're holding in your hand,' started Joe, 'that's a weapon of some type, isn't it?'
They kept walking, out into the dirt...yard...thingy. Anne was in the middle, with Joe and Ridley on either side.
'It is,' said Anne.
'So, I don't mean to second guess you,' said Joe, 'but when you said this wasn't dangerous...'
'It can be a little dangerous,' said Anne. 'Sometimes.'
'Ah. Only sometimes. Phew.' Joe enjoyed a bit of the old sarcasm from time to time.
'Stop whinging,' said Ridley. 'Might be nice to get a bit of action going.'
They had fallen into their old pattern. While Joe was making good progress in his personal development, vis a vis the whole sit-in-a-room-and-don't-talk-to-anyone routine otherwise known as “life”, and while he certainly did want to get out from the rule of these O.L.'s, he was still quite capable of thinking up all kinds of bad stuff that might happen to a wandering human out in the open like this.
Ridley, meanwhile, was acting exactly as Joe expected him to, with a high level of machismo and an expert use of the school yard classic, make-fun-of-everyone-around-you-to-make-yourself-look-cooler-in-front-of-the-cute-girl. Not exactly a winning technique, but if you don't succeed the first ninety nine times, why not try for the even century?
'So what does it do?' said Ridley, looking at the weapon. 'Shoot lasers? Ohh, does it burn 'em from the inside out, destroying every cell in their body, one by one?'
Joe scrunched up his face. 'So it burns them and destroys their cells one by one?' he said, incredulously. He'd naturally fallen into the trap of one-upmanship and didn't know why.
Ridley ignored him, trying another option: 'Oooh, the noob told me about how it sends out sound and vibrations which makes 'em nauseous and-'
'Sound and vibrations?' interrupted Joe. 'What do you think sound is?'
Anne walked quietly and seemed oblivious to the two boys engaged in a figurative fight, each not doing much to hide the mutual animosity. If they weren't on their guard, a verbal onslaught could result in a knife in the back. It was like a small-scale cold war, a more personal version of the battle between the US and USSR for political world supremacy. Hmm, that gives me an idea for a cartoon:
 |
| Figure 9-1: Underhanded tactics |
'So what does the weapon do?' said Joe.
'I told you what it does, you idiot,' said Ridley, adding a laugh. 'The noob says that Isaac has this whole workshop with loads of stuff.'
'He told you this?' said Anne.
'No bowel-movement Ridley, it's where I was transported to,' said Joe.
'Why wouldn't he?' said Ridley, ignoring Joe. 'We're good chums.'
'We need to be...discreet with things like that,' said Anne.
'Makes sense,' said Joe.
'Oh yeah, he did say not to tell Connie,' said Ridley. 'Oops! But you're not Connie, right? So we're all good.'
'Connie doesn't know about the Play Pen?' said Joe.
'It's only for her sake,' said Anne.
'Ah, it always is,' said Ridley.
'She's OK with breaking the rules herself, because she's the one that'll take the blame, she's the one that will be punished. But if other people do the wrong thing, then we could all get in trouble and she won't be able to save us.'
'One rule for those in charge, one for the plebs,' said Joe. 'Just like the O.L.'s.'
'Do you really think so?' said Anne. She looked at Joe with an earnestness that belied any true emotion; that poker face again. 'Do you think it's wrong to behave this way?'
He looked at her pursed lips and her large eyes and her soft skin. It can be hard to argue when you keep getting distracted.
Ridley did the arguing for him: 'What you've done is completely understandable. In fact, quite insightful some might say.'
Hmm, more a weaselly lie than an argument.
'Do you think we should tell her about Isaac's workshop?' said Anne, now focussing her attention on Ridley.
'Nah, I'm all for breaking the rules,' said Ridley. 'Break whatever you want. In fact, I like girls who do that.' He smiled.
Joe looked to see if Anne smiled back but she was facing away from him.
'You don't have to follow the rules, but it'd be nice if you helped out, you know?' said Joe, glaring at Ridley.
'Then I wouldn't have any energy for the fun stuff,' said Ridley. Another smile.
Joe felt an impulse to switch places with Anne so that he was in the middle and she was to his side, away from Ridley. Then he thought about his thoughts and another thought took their place: uh oh. He spoke quickly, changing the topic in the hopes of forgetting his thoughts (and thoughts about thoughts).
'So that gun. That's something else Connie doesn't know about?'
'She knows about it,' said Anne. 'She just thinks the Cleanup Crew found it.'
'They didn't?'
'Not...exactly.'
Joe waited for the rest, but there was a distinct lack of it. 'Then what exactly?' he said.
'Whenever I would look through the confiscated loot it would just look like junk to me. I would pick up something, put it down, pick up something else, and not be able to tell the difference. But Isaac's eyes light up at the good stuff. He knows what the good stuff is. It took a long time but that good stuff ended up making this weapon. That is what Connie does not know.'
'Is that really much different from finding a gun ready-made?' said Joe.
Anne thought for a moment. 'Definitely.'
'And what about the machine that took these off?' asked Joe, raising his ankle and showing off some skin. <insert woof whistle>
'What about it?' said Ridley.
'I don't know, I just had this sudden urge to make it clear that Isaac had fixed the device and we've had these things re-attached.'
'What a strange urge,' said Ridley. 'You know, it almost feels as if the whole ordeal with the O.L. never happened. As if we could just move on with our lives and pretend audits don't exist.'
'I guess,' said an incredulous Joe. 'Now who's the one talking about pointless stuff?'
'Speaking of pointless, what sorta stuff is there to do around here, Anne?' said Ridley, looking aimlessly at the surroundings, then back at Anne. 'When you're not working, I mean. What do you do to have fun?'
'Fun?' Anne asked. She said it as if she hadn't heard the word in a while.
'Yeah, fun,' said Ridley, seemingly ignoring her tone. 'You know, going out, drinking. Oh, what sort of alcohol do they have here? Or is it drugs? Like some mind-bending trippy alien drugs?' He spun around like he was high and managed to accidentally bump against Anne on his third rotation. Joe was watching closely.
'Drugs?' said Anne. 'You don't want to get into the drugs here. They were engineered to keep humans subservient. That is what Connie says.'
'Ah, not a party girl then,' said Ridley. 'No probs, no probs.'
He was feeling her out, working on her likes and dislikes, looking for a chink in the armour. This is what predators do. And Ridley was the biggest predator of them all.
'Say,' started Ridley, 'is there anywhere cool we can go? I really need to get out of here. I'm dying being couped up like this. I'm starting to really feel it.'
'Oh!' said Anne, 'Connie wanted to see you. I think she is eager for you to join the cleanup crew. We need a few extra hands now that the storeroom is running smoothly.'
'That's more like it!' said Ridley.
They continued walking.
'So this whole seeing Connie thing,' said Joe, 'that's supposed to be now-ish right?'
'Oh, as soon as possible,' said Anne.
Joe gave Ridley a stare.
'Can't hurt to wait a bit,' said Ridley. 'Who knows what'll happen out here. It's not as if Joe will help if any aliens attack.'
'We will be fine,' said Anne. 'I am well protected.'
Joe wasn't sure if she meant protected by him or by the weapon. That's not true. He was very sure she meant the weapon.
Anne maintained her stance so steadfastly that Ridley eventually succumbed and sauntered off, turning periodically to watch the pair.
Joe became suddenly nervous, as if a pressure had been added to an already unsafe environment. Now that Ridley was gone, there was just the two of them.
'You seem really close to Ridley,' said Anne.
'What?' said Joe. While there was more to add, he couldn't quite think of anything else to say.
'Like brothers,' said Anne. She seemed wistful.
There, I used the word wistful in a science fiction story! For my next trick, I'll get someone from a Mills and Boon story to discuss the proof of Fermat's Last Theorum.
'I don't know about that,' said Joe. 'I get along with The Tank much better.'
'Really? Why?'
'I don't know, it's just, I don't know.'
Stay tuned for more oratory skills from the master of explanations.
'Go on,' pleaded Anne.
'Don't you find that with some people you kinda feel like...not that you are better than them, it's just...it's like you kinda control the relationship. You feel more confident around them than others. It's like you've got the upper edge, somehow. And you don't have to get too deep. Just muck around, have fun. That's how I feel with The Tank. I feel really comfortable around him. But with Ridley...'
'You don't control the relationship?'
'That's more of a back-and-forth thing. Which sounds fine, but it just leaves you wondering where you stand.'
'Are you saying that one member of a relationship needs to be domineering and the other submissive? It does not work any other way?'
'I don't know. That's just how it's been for me. Always one or the other.'
'Which is better?'
'It feels safer and more comfortable to be in control. I guess that happens the most for me. The other kinds of relationships never seem to last. And not just with guys.'
'Oh,' said Anne. There was more to say but she couldn't say it. This wasn't quite turning out how she'd hoped.
They were silent for a time, their thoughts held together by the yard's changing colour as the sun slowly set.
'What about you?' said Joe.
'What about me?' said Anne.
She didn't say it with coldness or malice, merely with cordiality and confidence. Even then there was an alluring unknown waiting for him at the end of the line. He shook his head, remembering the stark reality of who this was and what secret he kept from her. Much better to keep your distance, he thought. Less messiness that way.
But he'd asked the question, so now he had to continue on. He said: 'Do you think there needs to be one dominant person? Someone who leads the way?'
She breathed in slowly. 'No. A friendship or,' she looked at him, 'a relationship...is a partnership.'
'Not a battleship,' said Joe, before a quick 'Sorry. I just got carried away with all the aqua transportation devices in that sentence.'
She nodded without laughing or smiling, and Joe wasn't sure if she got it or not. Maybe she just didn't find him funny. He wasn't really a joke telling kind of guy but if it came down to it, he'd whip out a favourite from the ol' 1000 Jokes book he had when he was younger.
'Not a battleship,' she said. 'There is no need to control something like that. It controls itself. Otherwise, you were probably not meant to be together. Don't you think?'
Joe turned and looked at Anne's face. 'I don't know,' he said.
She turned to face him, an enigmatic gaze.
He said: 'Do you ever get scared?'
As soon as he said it he wished he hadn't. What a stupid question. Yet he still yearned to know the answer. Why? To give him hope he wasn't alone? To see some vulnerability in an otherwise flawless façade?
I won't give you her answer since that would be telling. I'll only point out that they continued their conversation, with lots of 'I feel's' and lots of -ships, all very polite and deep and important. But you're probably wondering where the excitement kicks in, right? It'll probably have something to do with that tiny object moving in the distance, gliding along the horizon.
rrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Brrrrrrrrrrrr.
The alarm was loud and distinct.
'Come on!' said Anne. She started running, heading straight for the warehouse.
Joe followed but wasn't sprinting, just making sure to keep up with Anne, or more accurately, to keep behind Anne.
'I didn't even see anyone,' he yelled between breaths. 'I still can't see anyone. Are they attacking the warehouse?'
'Attacking?' said Anne. 'No.'
'Then why is the alarm going off? Who's trying to get in?'
'Get in?' said Anne, a slight tremble in her running voice. 'They're trying to get out.'
Episode IX is dedicated to the Cold War.
What? What's wrong with that? It's a legitimate topic of reverence.
Find episode X here.
© 2013 Ben Safta
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Australia License
