Toy Soldiers

Home > Other > Toy Soldiers > Page 7
Toy Soldiers Page 7

by Keith LaHue


  "What was that I heard you arguing about with your father Davey?"

  "Oh, it was nothing. And we weren't arguing. We were just talking."

  "So nothing's wrong?"

  "Nope. Everything is okay."

  They ate lunch, and talked about school, Davey was getting good grades this year. His dad had promised him a bike in the spring if he could manage all B's and A's. He was on course to do just that. His mother was working with him on math, his weak point. But he was strong in English, reading in particular.

  He put his plate in the sink and asked his mom if he could go down in the basement and play. His mother said it was okay with her if it was okay with his dad. Davey said his dad said it was okay, as long as he didn't make changes to the model. He wouldn't. He wouldn't even tear down the progress the Chinese were making on their wall. In fact, he was going to take pictures of it with his phone, to document the progress.

  In bed and on the edge of sleep, Dave Sr. pondered his son's discovery. So he knew. Just as Dave Sr. knew that Pangaea was indeed alive. Dave Sr. had the ability to wield magic. He was a Wizard. Davey wasn't a Wizard, at least not yet. He did possess more than rudimentary powers though. It had been passed on to him genetically. His father had been a full-fledged Wizard, as had his Grandfather. And Davey would be a mage as well when he came of age. He'd already shown inklings of the power he would have.

  Marigold[KL1] didn’t know she had married a Mage. Dave Sr. had fought hard to keep the secret, not wanting to explain to her that any children they had would also be imbued with powers. Thankfully they'd had a boy first. Dave was glad they hadn't had a girl first. They could be a handful, generally exhibiting their powers at a much younger age, and with unpredictable results. They did plan to have more children, and he wanted a girl as much as Mary did.

  Right now he was kicking himself in the ass for not shutting Pangaea down before the accident. He usually shut it down on most nights, but sometimes he figured that even the "people" of Pangaea needed a night out. They weren't really alive of course, they had a rudimentary half-life, and they would generally not have any memories beyond what had happened a few hours ago.

  Leaving the spell on for so long though, who knew what could happen. If they crossed barriers from one section to another, it could seriously disrupt things. And apparently, the beings in China were building their wall. He'd have to reset the whole thing as soon as he could. It would be a while, encased in plaster as he was. Davey wasn't stupid, and the obvious progress on the wall was certainly not the only thing that would change.

  He was trapped in bed. And the citizens of Pangaea were running wild. He debated on whether or not to tell Mary. She didn't know, at least not yet, that Pangaea was alive. When Davey had discovered it, she'd thought he just had a vivid imagination. It hadn't occurred to her that the builder, Dave sr., had imbued it with life. If he didn't fix things soon, he'd catch hell from her when she found out that Davey was right. There was also the not so small matter of telling his wife that magic was real, and she had married a wizard. Which would then lead to the broader subject of just when they were going to tell Davey that he was special. He was not like other kids.

  In the basement, Davey was taking a photograph of the wall. It had grown a little. Not much, since he'd last torn it down to the state his dad had left it in. Now he was going to let it grow, and show his dad in a week how much the "imaginary" people had built. That would show him.

  After he was done taking pictures, Davey looked around the rest of the model. Some other things that he couldn't quite put his finger on had changed too. But why wouldn't it? Pangaea was alive, regardless of what his father and mother had said. He was going to prove it to them. It was personal now, that was for sure. He didn't like being told that what he could see and feel wasn't real. He wasn't dumb, and when the wall had first grown, he had begun measuring it. And tearing it down, afraid his dad would find out that there were people there, and then what? What would his dad think when he found out that he had somehow created a living, breathing people to live in his fantasy land.

  In "ancient" Rome, which wasn't ancient at all, Artimus looked through the telescope his protégé had built over the past few weeks. He saw the giant that lorded over them. Right now he wasn't doing much, just looking over the land. In the distance, Artimus could see the high-rises of Manhattan. He and his team were working on a method to travel between "worlds" that the huge humans had built.

  The humans, magic users, that had created them had built in a kind of reset mechanism caused the inhabitants to live the same day over and over. But that part of the spell was the weakest and had been transcended within a few weeks of letting the spell run. Now things were beginning to happen in this segment of the model.

  The one thing the magic users had either forgotten or didn't know was that ancient Rome had magic as well. The current system they were supposed to have, with its archaic political regime had been the first thing they had done away with as soon a full consciousness had driven its way into their heads. Now they were concentrating on learning as much about the Giants as they could, which wasn't much.

  There was a border, a magical barrier between areas that Artimus desperately wanted to breach. The best Mage's in the land were working on it. Meetings were held, speculating on whether or not the other areas were also self-aware, and did they possess magic as well? The New York simulation appeared to be closest, but it was an unknown as to the state it was in, hence the importance of getting to New York, if for no other reason than to bring magic to them. They would likely be stuck in a temporal loop, a leftover from the spell they were all under. It had taken several cycles for Artimus to break out of his loop, it had come about through reverie, the introspection he had to know while he was in the loop. He'd kept that part of what the creators he endowed his with, intentionally or not. Now he was the defacto ruler by default, he was the one who had cast the first spell to break the others out of their respective loops.

  They'd been careful not to show any progress as far as building anything new, so as not to let the Giants know they were sentient and very much alive. Well, as alive as you could be when you were the product of a spell. Still, they wanted the spell to continue running, they had the desire to live, if not actual life.

  They didn't have much need for food. It was a novelty. Of course, the creators would have known when they cast the spell that there was no need for food or any of the things real humans needed. They were constructs as well, just as the model was. They'd discovered that it was comprised mostly of modeling clay and plastic, with the occasional piece of metal. None of that bothered any of them.

  They did have needs though. Now that they had true sentience, they wanted more than anything just to continue living. Artimus looked through the telescope at the giant again. He looked like he was a young boy. Surely the creators weren't all young. It would take a mature Mage to create something like this, and one this young wouldn't have learned the discipline to create multiple worlds within the space Artimus had observed. That would take a fully grown man, who had studied the art for many years.

  He peered into the distance and wondered.

  19

  James threaded the VW through LA traffic; it was going to take some time to get to Donna's place. Of course, that stupid party that happened every night would be going on for another few hours. Night had fallen and the lights of LA shone bright, lighting his way until he got to the canyon roads that led to Malibu. He made a right and drove out of the light into the darkness.

  Sporadic homes, some lit, some dark, were hidden in the crevices of the Santa Monica mountains. This part of LA did exist, though there wasn't much north of Malibu, and the Valley was mostly non-existent. He wound his way to Donna's, free of the traffic now. There were still many cars taking up quite a bit of the parking at her place. He wondered if the women that had vomited on him would still be here. Of course, she would. They were on a looping, never-ending day and night cycle. He and Donna had
broken out of it, with Donna dying-but-not-dying. And she remembered it. That was the kicker.

  He parked, blocking in several expensive cars. What did it matter? If none of this was real, it made no difference. He let himself in through the front door. Donna wasn't in the main room. The party was still in full swing, even at this late hour. In his iteration of the temporal loop, he hadn't stayed this late. The woman that had puked on him was passed out on a couch, the party raged on without her.

  He looked at the famous people that covered every corner of the room, and he was sure, the bedrooms as well. The famous people that weren't famous. On a whim, he asked one of the starlets that had been in an Oscar-winning film called "Only a Rumor" what her last film was. She didn't appear drunk, yet she was unable to come up with the answer. He left her with a momentarily puzzled look on her face, and then she was back in the swing of things. He wondered where Donna was.

  He found the kitchen. Donna was there, mixing a drink.

  "Well hey, lover boy! Let's have a drink!"

  "Don't mind if I do," he said. It occurred to him that he'd in all likelihood never had a drink. He wondered if it would have any effect on him. He’d heard that one should never drink on an empty stomach. He hadn't eaten in three days. Once he found out that they were all living a sham, and that none of this mattered, he'd given up the pain in the ass routine of either cooking for himself or going out to eat.

  What was that song by some popular band? "It's just a repetition" went the lyrics

  Donna handed him a drink. He tasted it. Not bad, according to Donna it was a Vodka Gimlet. She motioned for him to follow.

  Outside on the expansive deck that overlooked the ocean, they say in comparative quiet, the noise of the party inside down to a dull roar.

  "So how was being dead?" He asked, candor being his modus operandi now.

  "It wasn't bad. I was in this blue mist as soon as I fell - I never hit the bottom. One minute I was with you, which as you recall, wasn't a 'normal' part of either of our days and then the blue mist, then being back here. I was in the middle of getting ready for the party when I resurrected." She paused. "We're not real, are we? We're a dream from somebody's head, right?"

  "I don't know. I do know that there is a limit to the scope of greater Los Angeles. Long Beach doesn't exist; the entire desert is gone, and so on. Lot's of the places we thought we knew don't exist. Can you remember where you were born?"

  "Missouri."

  "I doubt Missouri is there. Do you have any vivid memories of childhood?" He watched as Donna strained to remember things that had never happened. She looked like her head we going to explode when he said: "Stop. There are no memories. You'll just give yourself a headache. I know I got one when I tried to remember anything from the past. All of the movies we've been in? Those events never took place. What little we do recall is just fodder for things like this party, so we can make small talk."

  "Then why are we here? What are we if we're not alive?" Donna looked sullen. If there was one thing that James couldn't take it was when a woman cried. Fortunately, she held off. Or had that feeling been implanted in him too?

  "Donna, it's okay. You died and it didn't seem to bother you. Think about it. Now that we know we're pawns in some...game, we can break out of it. And if we have free will, we have to be alive. We are self-aware, living things. Just not what we thought, which was human. I haven't eaten for three days. I should be on death's door. You should be dead. Maybe we're not alive in the traditional sense, but I know one thing: I want this...life, to continue. Don't you? But we've got to make a concerted effort to break out of this never-ending day. We just wake up and do the exact same thing that we did before. I'm not sure how to do it. I've tried coming to your party, I've tried not coming to your party. No matter what I do, the world around me resets, but now that I'm aware, I don't! Don't you see? It's the knowledge that sets us free."

  "Then now that I know, I'll be able to do things like canceling the party?"

  "That might be a start. I think we should do anything to make others self-aware as well. It's the ticket to freedom."

  "But how? If Los Angeles is much smaller, that would still mean millions of people. How do we pull that off? Creating awareness amongst those many? And what if the whole mess just resets itself after we've done it?"

  "I don't have any answers. I say we start small. Just get a few people. Like the party, we can start there. Try by not having it, if that's possible. Tell you what. We'll stay up all night. I've done it a few times already. The world resets when the light comes back. Note that I did not say when the sun rises. There is no sun. The light just comes and goes. No reason. There is one thing I want to try tonight if you're game."

  "What is it?"

  "I want to go to the observatory. I know that at least the outside is real. I'm hoping the telescope is functional as well. Are you ready?" James finished his drink. It didn't seem to have had any effect.

  "Yes. Let's go. We can go now. And then we can spend all night there if they'll let us. I want to stay awake until, as you say, the light comes back."

  "We'll take my car."

  Donna fixed both of them two to-go drinks, which James thought was a waste of time, as they didn't do anything. He indulged her. They got in James' VW and he began driving back that way he'd come. Towards town. The lights of the city were bright, he expertly threaded his way through the traffic as they moved further into the city. He made it to Hollywood and Vine when the car went dead. It didn't stutter and die, and he didn't have a flat. It just stopped working. Bemused, he got out and popped the hood. He guessed he shouldn't have been surprised when he saw there was no engine. Was he really surprised? He'd never looked under the hood before. He guessed that the insides of a car weren't needed for the illusion. Had any of Donna's cars even been real? They'd certainly felt different driving them.

  But why would the VW crap out now, when they were so close to their destination? Who or what was trying to stop them? There must be something outside of themselves, the thing that had created them, that didn't want them looking through that telescope. This only strengthened his resolve to get there. And he knew that once they did get there, the telescope would be there. Why else would (the creator?) want to stop them?

  "Come on. It looks like we're walking."

  "You want to climb hills in the dark. In Griffith Park this late at night? We'll be killed."

  "Hey, you've already died once today. Did it hurt?"

  "Point taken. We'll hoof it."

  An hour later, they arrived at the closed gate to the park. James checked his watch, it was only a little past eight. The park should still be open. The observatory sure as hell should be. They went around the sign and began the arduous climb up steep hills to get to the observatory.

  They were both out of breath and panting when they finally arrived at the observatory. Needing a break, they sat on one of the benches.

  "Of course the telescope is on the roof. I guess a flight of stairs won't kill me after what we've been through. Nobody walks in Los Angeles," Donna said.

  On the way, James had told her about the engine being missing from the car. They both thought it bizarre. Then something else came into James' mind. Los Angeles was known for smog. But when was the last time they had seen a smoggy day? They both sort of remembered them, but today (every day) was crystal clear. He'd heard about Catalina, off the coast. They should be able to see it on a clear day. Yet they were in the hills earlier, and all they had seen was the ocean. Motionless ocean. They were both more than a little scared. They got up and climbed the stairs to the roof.

  Looking out at the lights of LA, They could see the hodge-podge layout of the "real" city. In Donna's mind's eye, she could half remember when it was different. Bigger. James motioned for her to come along to the telescope.

  James opened the door and was heartened to see that the telescope appeared to be real. There was a short line to wait in, James and Donna got in line. The attendant looked at t
hem with a frown and a hint of confusion. He was telling to the most current viewer that he kept the telescope mainly pointed at the moon, as the telescope had been blinded by the lights of Los Angeles years ago.

  One by one they observers took turns. Then it came to James' turn. The operator turned to them and said, "Sorry, we're closed now."

  "Pardon? We've been in line for quite some time. You couldn't have told us earlier?" He was still trying to be polite. He was prepared to kill him if need be. After all, no one here stayed dead.

  "I'm sorry, but rules are rules, and my boss tells me to shut down every night at ten. It's after ten now."

  "How about I beat the shit out of you and take a look through the telescope? Or maybe I'll just fucking kill you? Would you like that?"

  The attendant reached for a nearby phone. James jumped him and stopped him. "Now me and my girl get to look at through the telescope, and you get to live. Got it?"

  "Yes...yes...Let me go!" James wasn't taking any chances. He grabbed the receiver of the phone and began bashing the guys head in. Not to kill him, just to render him unconscious. Donna gasped. Once he put the guy's lights out, James turned to Donna.

  "Well seeing as none of this is real...."

  Now was his chance, he looked into the telescope. At first, the vision was funny. It certainly wasn't the moon he was looking at. What the hell was it then? If anything it looked like a giant beam of wood, suspended above them and attached to a perpendicular piece of wood. What could this be? He let Donna take a look and she saw something. Just a piece of wood, like a beam she said.

  "What were you expecting?" said Donna.

  "I don't know. I guess I was hoping for some kind of sky. But that's impossible. Just a piece of wood. The others that had looked through the telescope had commented on the moon." He looked dejected. "I was kind of hoping for the moon. Hoping that I'd see the moon, and this was all some kind of crazy dream."

 

‹ Prev