the slush, he would normally be able to isolate
CONSIDERATION, BE AWARE THAT EDIFICE SHARES THAT
Edifice in a room this size by listening for her
ROOM WITH YOU.
breath, identifying scents other than his own,
even determining the places of stagnant air
He is not surprised to conf irm that he still
from the movements she would have had to
appears to be alone. His view remains that of a
make to evade him.
cottage empty and unoccupied, but for him-
Such skills have saved his life during any
self. He is a man trained to hear the soft breath
number of hand-to-hand battles fought in dark-
of an enemy lurking in enclosed spaces like
ness. But he can see from the thin layer of dust
this one, and he owes his life to the thorough-
on the f loor that only his own moves are
ness with which he has learned that skill . . .
chronicled there; hers, if they exist, have been
but every sense in his body assures him that he
hidden from him. He has no doubt that she’s
is alone.
here with him, maybe in front of him, maybe
It is of course possible that Edif ice is not
right behind him. For all he knows she’s struck
here at all, that assertions of her presence are
him several times. But any indicators of her
just another layer of psychological manipula-
presence are hidden.
tion designed to keep him off-guard and para-
He offers the empty air his grimmest smile.
noid. That would be typical of the mind-games
“I’ve had more obtrusive bunkmates.”
he’d known from Silver’s ilk, during the years
If she replies, he cannot hear it.
they’d worked on him. The first rule of dealing
He leaves the cottage and stands in the dusty
with them had always been that he could nev-
air, facing a landscape that to his perception,
er know whether to believe anything they said
contains nothing. He knows that if this is Elba
to him, starting with what they claimed to
that there are a couple of dozen unseen test
want from him and continuing with just what
subjects wandering this space with him but as
they would consider cooperation or compli-
unaware of him as he is of them. It may be that
ance. All he has right now are the instincts that
escape lies in f inding some way to contact
the damned man has left him—and those in-
them, and it falls upon him to find the obvious
stincts include the certainty that in the bald
methods first. So he dips the tip of his shoe in
summary of rules, Silver has played fair. Edifice
the dust and attempts to scrawl a message in
is near, a tireless machine with no wants or
the dust, a hello to those who share his
needs of her own, ready to strike at any mo-
predicament. He manages that word, and then
ment.
in a heartbeat the dust rearranges itself, on its
So, first: an experiment.
own, becoming uniform. This does not sur-
Draiken throws a punch at empty space,
prise him all that much. Not only would it be
spins, strikes in another, then ducks low and
disappointing to have the solution come that
sweeps his leg at ankle-height. He does not ex-
easily, but he’s already noted the total lack of
pect to encounter an unseen companion, but
footprints for as far as his eyes can see.
it is worth trying; worth trying to anticipate
The next simple experiment is a foregone
where that companion would be, if she had
conclusion, if for no other reason than because
the advantage of invisibility and the assignment
he’s been assured that it would be. But in any
to stay close. His moves remain unimpeded.
course of study you confirm the elementals be-
Then he spins and tries again, aiming his next
fore moving on to the unknown.
blow at an altitude reflecting the altitude of Ed-
Returning to his cottage, he retrieves the
ifice’s face.
coil of rope, brings it back outside, and lays it
Several minutes of this comical pursuit, and
upon the ground, establishing that his earlier
172
ADAM-TROY CASTRO
JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2018
estimate of its length was the correct one. Yes,
his experiments useful. He has no choice oth-
about fifty meters. This would be well greater
er than acknowledging the near-total discon-
than the distance he’d earlier noted between
nect between what he thinks he’s doing, and
Elba’s buildings, and certainly greater than the
what he is doing.
approximate distance between its aimlessly
His senses will not tear down the lie that dri-
wandering human beings. A simple knot se-
ves this place. They’re utterly within Silver’s
cures one end to the iron ring on the front wall
power, rendering him a blinded and neutered
of his cottage. He takes the other end and
thing powerless to explore Elba’s boundaries.
walks as far as he has to before the rope draws
He can imagine such a demonstration break-
taut.
ing his fellow prisoners utterly. It’s been years
He walks a semicircle def ined how far the
since he’s had to reflect on the way ordinary
rope will stretch and encounters no obstacles.
people live and think, but he knows that they
He runs the distance, again bounded by the
tend to rely on that which they’ve always
rope, and again encounters no obstacles.
known and never been required to test. It’s
He lowers his end of the rope to nearly
why so many have historically broken so quick-
ground-level, by necessity sacrificing a little of
ly under sensory deprivation, solitary confine-
his semicircle’s radius in order to do so. No op-
ment, or simple blunt torture. Once deprived
position.
of what they believe, they break apart like
A few further repetitions of this experiment
sand.
and he drops his end of the rope, thinking.
This does not make them lesser beings than
Very well. Based on what he’d seen from the
himself. He has considerable awe for those
air, he should have been stopped by one of the
able to live ordinary lives. But they are unpre-
other structures or by the unseen form of
pared for the kind of mind games he was
some neighbor. If a neighbor, the sweep of the
trained to resist. What would have defeated
rope would have either clotheslined him and
them is for him just the general outline of the
knocked him over, or, failing that, been de-
problem.
formed as that neighbor acted as a fixed point
He grunts, returns to his cottage—if it is in-
the line could not pass. But he’s not sensed ei-
ther result.
one he’s unwittingly wandered to in the time
An hour or so repeating the experiment
since leaving the one he first explored—puts
three additional times, with the rope tied to
the useless coil of rope back on the shelf, and
the iron rings on the other three walls of his
embarks upon the next stage of his investiga-
cottage, achieves the same lack of result.
tion.
This has been time-consuming, but it estab-
lishes a few things.
It is now, he believes, a little later in the
He cannot confirm the existence of the vil-
same day.
lage’s other structures, or inhabitants, by indi-
There is no way of telling that for sure. On
rect methods. Either he is being lied to, and
cylinder worlds, the day/night cycle is of
has indeed been brought to some other loca-
course a wholly artif icial construct, pro-
tion where a single cottage sits alone on a plain
grammed to match the desired environment,
unoccupied by any other feature, or the alter-
and while the urban region of Liberty hews
ations that have been made in his perceptions
reasonably close to Mankind’s preferred twen-
prevent him from perceiving any evidence
ty-four hours, the end of the cylinder that hous-
counter to his prison’s central illusion. Maybe
es Silver’s community of lab rats appears to
he’s been sweeping all his fellow test subjects
have opted out in some manner, perhaps one
off their feet, repeatedly.
related to the field of darkness that hides the
Maybe, without realizing it themselves,
general region from outside observers. Inside,
they’ve been ducking or hopping over or stay-
the diffuse light reads like midafternoon, and
ing out of the way of his line, and thus preserv-
never appears to march any distance toward
ing their own imprisoning illusions. For that
the falling of any night. Elba’s inmates are de-
matter, maybe he’s never drawn the rope taut
nied any sense of the passage of time, as well
and only imagines that he’s traveled his various
as any interaction with their fellow human be-
semicircles at a distance that would have made
ings and any conf idence in the reliability of
BLURRED LIVES
173
ANALOG
their own senses; as formidable a means of
him to believe . . . and yet, that he has always
breaking them down to nothing as Draiken can
been ruled by ego, a f irm belief in his own
imagine.
powers of will and rectitude that has sent him
He spends a few hours confirming that he’s
on a journey he could have avoided and made
unable to just walk out. It’s not that he doubts
him foolhardy enough to put his fate in the
Silver’s boasts, but that he knows his training.
hands of a man who brags about being able to
During his time in one arid habitat just as de-
twist the human spirit at will.
void of surface features, he was tested and told
Another man would greet these epiphanies
that his stride favored his right leg. In the ab-
with despair. Draiken merely takes them as ele-
sence of a visible reference point, he would al-
ments of a cruel but accurate self-appraisal and
ways tend to walk in circles. With diff iculty,
presses on, one step after the next, until a
he’d cultivated a precision of stride that, if he
speck appears in the far distance and begins to
ever got lost in that wilderness, would protect
grow.
him from such a fate. To be sure, that tech-
He is not surprised or especially chagrined
nique had been designed for a planetary sur-
to discover that it’s the cottage.
face and not a cylinder world where the
Silver has described the conditions of his im-
horizons curve upward, but he hopes that fo-
prisonment accurately. Even with a precise
cusing upon these skills might enable him to
and trained stride, he will always walk in a cir-
f ight whatever programming Silver has im-
cle here, without ever being aware that he’s
planted, to keep him heading back to his ori-
done so.
gin point.
Though tempted to storm off and make an-
It helps that he still happens to possess the
other attempt, he knows from long experience
advantage of being able to discern the upward
that the key to any successful prison break is
curve the landscape appears to take, in the di-
not pouring good effort after bad.
rections that translate as spinward and anti-
So he slides the door aside and enters the
spinward. So he sets himself a course
cabin and, after a disorienting blip of continu-
perpendicular to those, and marches into the
ity, finds himself sitting on the bed, recipient
dusty nothingness.
of a blinding headache. He does not remember
The curves of the cylinder make him seem
crossing to the bed; he does not remember sit-
to be at the lowest point of a wide valley, but
ting down. But his teeth ache.
the ground by itself is just dust, stirred by
He wipes his lips with the back of his hand
winds that seem to blow perpendicular to the
and is not surprised to find a smear of blood.
spin, and not, as would more frequently hap-
He has been struck in the mouth by some-
pen, with it. He measures each step to ensure
one who knows how to deliver a blow.
uniformity of stride, and course-corrects at
Edif ice? He knows she’s with him; indeed,
every opportunity. It is work that requires the
though he cannot see her or sense her, she’s
greatest possible level of concentration, and as
likely been with him all along, smirking at his
a result should not be stultifying; but as the
antics. But the blow puzzles him. Striking what
trek becomes more robotic his mind inevitably
amounts to a blind enemy is a pointless gesture
drifts, and he f inds himself thinking of that
that he somehow cannot imagine coming on
world named Greeve where he could have
impulse from Silver’s bodyguard, a woman
maintained a peaceful retirement. He realizes
now more of an automaton than a human be-
not for the first time that he had loved it more
ing.
than a little, could have loved it more and ac-
It must be part of the program to disorient
cepted what it should have meant to be at
him, to render him uncertain of safety even in
peace and know that there were no people
his own skin.
from his past still looking for him.
He stands, only to suffer another moment of
The primary contradicti
on of his character
discontinuity.
has always been that the job he once held had
He’s back on the bed, head ringing from the
always demanded that he become nobody, a
impact of another blow.
man with no connections and no past, using
He doesn’t know what to do. He’s been sub-
whatever name was currently convenient, and
jected to a brutal beating or two, in his time,
believing in whatever his superiors required
sometimes while lashed to chairs or tied to
174
ADAM-TROY CASTRO
JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2018
poles, but in such cases the best he could do
ther, not precisely. The walls were a mural of
was concentrate on his own inner resources
constantly shifting geometrical patterns de-
and wait for the ordeal to be over.
signed to violate everything the rational human
Now he is physically free, and there is still
mind knows about the way perspective works:
nothing he can do, not f ight back or walk
greater manifestations of popular illusions like
away.
the fork that simultaneously possesses three
“This will not break me,” he announces.
tines and four; the staircase that somehow
He does not expect a reply, nor receive one.
meets itself in a perfect circle yet keeps ascend-
Not even another blow to the face.
ing; the pillar that is at once supporting a
He waits. The absence of another immediate
bridge and a blink later a distance from it. None
assault is no guarantee that there won’t be an-
of the images could be reconciled, but if he
other, once he lets his guard down. He cannot
looked away there was nothing to see but more
remain vigilant forever nor will his spirit sur-
madness of the same kind. It was enough, after
vive long if he is reduced to fearing a fresh
a while, to make him want to go blind.
blow with every breath, but for now he can let
There was a door that he has never been
his unseen assailant know that he is not defeat-
able to reach, and sometimes an interrogator
ed. So he sits with his back against the wall, re-
entered and offered him alternatives to contin-
garding the four walls of his prison with
ued incarceration here.
defiance. He does not let her know what he is
The dream gives him one of those times,
thinking or feeling. He becomes a closed book,
and it’s a torturer so familiar that he almost
serene in aspect, furious with inner concentra-
Analog Science Fiction and Fact Page 47