‘I keep having these violent thoughts about cutting you up into little pieces,’ I say.
‘Classic projection,’ he says. ‘I think it has to do with your mother. Anyway, it’s lovely to see you again. Family is so important, don’t you think?’
I watch his face. He’s unlike anybody I’ve ever had to manipulate, cajole, extort or persuade. I can see the mind behind his eyes whirring like a thousand microprocessors crunching numbers, facts, probabilities and contingencies. I feel like Kasparov facing Deep Blue. He’s already played me more than I could possibly imagine. My whole life has been a set-up, carefully planned and executed so that I could become exactly what he wants.
He hands me the tea. I take a sip. ‘I’d like to ask some questions,’ I say.
He nods. ‘I think that’s fair. What would you like to know? I’d love to impart some great-great-grandfatherly wisdom.’
‘Esmé’s kidnapping,’ I say. ‘Why did you do that? Why not just approach me and offer me money or power?’
He sighs and shrugs. ‘It was my only choice. The Octopus exoskeleton has the potential for time travel and, unlike the Mantis, requires a very simple method to operate it. Blood, you see, is the key.’
‘The Mountain Killer,’ I say.
He puts his hand to his heart. ‘Guilty as charged. Blood allowed me to use the power of the Octopus to set up a situation where someone capable of piloting the Mantis exoskeleton would eventually be produced. I needed to know for sure that your gift was awakened. When you began to show signs of attachment to the girl I decided to use that as a test. One you passed with flying colours, I might add.’
‘So what now?’ I say.
‘You work for me,’ he says. ‘Think of it as an internship. You operate the Mantis and I’ll help you to develop your gift. I know you’re interested in power. With my help you can build the biggest corporation the world has ever seen.’
I want to say that I don’t think about the power. I want to say that my good side is developed to the point where I laugh at the offer. Where I tell Mirth that no amount of money or power could tempt me.
‘OK,’ I say.
He looks at me curiously. ‘I expected some sort of struggle. Some sort of declaration of nobility.’
‘Listen,’ I say, leaning forward on the table, ‘you created me. You purposefully activated the side of me that gives a shit. You manipulated me into caring so that I would end up the way you wanted me.’
‘Yes …’
‘You’ve done what you’ve needed to do,’ I say, ‘and so have I. I don’t need to keep this farce up any more.’ I turn to look at Esmé. ‘You were right,’ I say. ‘Even if it wasn’t really you speaking. I’m not a good person. I deal porn and I manipulate people. People say that’s abnormal, they say that teenagers shouldn’t be like that. I say that’s bullshit. Why feed us this crap about the world being a noble and heroic place when it’s just not? The world is an ugly, brutal, uncaring place. And the only way you get ahead is to be even more ugly, brutal and uncaring than it.’
Mirth giggles. ‘Quite right,’ he says.
‘I want to see these vehicles,’ I say. ‘I want to see what you’ve fucked my life up for.’
He leads me into a room that holds two sculptures made from burnished brass, copper and glass, every inch carved with strange glyphs and demonic doodles. One is an Octopus, large and sprawling, its tentacles thick golden chains, eyes made from amber holding ancient trapped insects. Its large body is like a heavy copper bell and there’s a thick, viscous aura around it, the air seeming to twist and curl as if it wants to get away from this monstrosity.
‘A vehicle and a prison,’ Mirth says, stroking it with the back of his hand. ‘A remarkable piece of magic. I was impressed by your little speech, but you’ll understand if I take certain precautions.’
He climbs onto one of the tentacles and steps behind the face of the Octopus and into an indentation big enough to fit a person. He slides into place and through the amber I can see him positioning himself as if in a cockpit. ‘Should you attempt to interfere with my plans I’ll kill your brother and girlfriend for the trouble.’
‘Your manipulation of my life was masterful,’ I say. ‘I want to learn from you, not oppose you.’
‘That would be more than I could have ever hoped for. Now please,’ he says, gesturing to the other vehicle. ‘You won’t believe how long I’ve waited for this.’
The Mantis looms up above me like an insectile mech warrior. Its body is long and slender and its claws hang in the air like serrated blades. Close up I can feel a hum in my solar plexus, like you can feel the bass from a seriously pimped-out car stereo.
I climb onto its hind leg, step into its carved-out centre and slide into a person-shaped hollow in the middle. It’s surprisingly comfortable and I can feel the warmth of the metal against my skin. Inside, the whole thing seems to hum. There are levers and pulleys inside but I look for the controller. The mouse. The joystick. Nothing. I pull a lever. One of the legs of the Mantis moves. If the control system is at all logical then the other lever must move the other leg. I pull it. The other leg moves.
‘Comfortable?’ Mirth calls. ‘Then please activate it.’
‘How?’ I say.
‘That’s why you’re here,’ he says impatiently. ‘To tap into the power of a trapped god.’
Sure thing. The power of the Mantis God coming right up. I could probably work out the control system given enough time, but tapping into a god trapped inside? There’s probably not an FAQ or a Wiki for that. I try to slow down my breathing. I look across at Rafe. He smiles and looks back at me with the knowing-eye. It burns into me and I feel my forehead open like a sunflower opening to the sun. Everything splits into little fractals.
‘Holy mother of god,’ I whisper as the world shudders and tears in half. I’m on the floating disc again but the Singer of Souls is nowhere to be seen. Instead Rafe sits cross-legged on the disc and looks up at me.
‘Rafe?’ I say. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I knew that I was a Siener lonngggg before you did, you know?’ he says with a smile. His voice here is rich, deep and melodious, nothing like the mumbles and grunts he usually communicates with. ‘But you were always such an asshole. You never picked up the hints I was giving you.’
‘I …’ I say. ‘You’re talking. In full sentences.’
He shrugs. ‘It’s easy here. Not so easy when I’m stuck in my body. We’re Sieners and that’s part of why you’ve always hated me. You knew that something impossibly strong held us together and you didn’t want to be linked to me in any way.’
‘I never hated you,’ I say.
Rafe laughs. ‘Shut up, Baxter,’ he says. ‘For once I get to talk. I usually just watch you strutting around like an arrogant little rooster, creating your little schemes, playing your little games and generally thinking that you’re the cleverest thing on the goddamn planet.’ I try to talk but he holds up a hand. ‘I said shut up. First of all I want to say screw you for burying Mr Bobble in the garden when I was eight. That was a major dick move.’
Mr Bobble was Rafe’s favourite fluffy toy. He was a little rabbit with one eye and a bow tie. I buried him in the garden to punish Rafe for telling on me. It left him traumatised for months.
‘Second,’ he continues, ‘stop calling me retard. I don’t talk a lot but I understand what you’re saying.’ He waves his hand and the disc disappears and suddenly we’re floating above Table Mountain. ‘My sight is a lot deeper than yours,’ he says. ‘I can create whole worlds inside my head so excuse me if I don’t spend a lot of time spouting mundane bullshit like you do.’ He clicks his fingers and we’re back on the disc.
‘I’ve been really bad to you, haven’t I?’ I say.
‘You’re not the only one. You know that time Karyn Dorman suddenly dumped you?’
‘Yeah …’ I say.
‘I sent her an email from you saying you thought her mom was hot.’
‘
Asshole!’ I say.
‘I learnt from the best. I know you’re not going to do what this lunatic wants you to do,’ Rafe says. ‘So what’s your plan?’
‘Unleash a trapped god, I guess,’ I say.
‘I can help you,’ Rafe says and holds out his hands. I take them and the disc begins to spin. Slowly at first and then faster, like we’re on a cosmic merry-go-round. I feel the force from the spinning drilling into me.
Then I see them. Radiant sigils invisible to the naked eye are etched onto the frame of the Mantis. They form a kind of control panel on the inner metal. I reach out my mind and touch one of them. It hums with a deep, subsonic bass. My brain rattles against my skull with the resonance. I touch another one. It’s a higher frequency, but it harmonises perfectly with the bass. It’s an invisible, space–time Casio keyboard. So I do what everybody without any musical talent does when they sit down in front of a keyboard. I play Chopsticks.
Reaching out my mind, I search for the subsonic tones that will make up the simple melody. They rumble and hum internally. The Mantis begins to shift. It moves like it’s doing t’ai chi, coiling and rolling through the ether, space and time rushing off its body like water.
‘Perfect,’ Mirth says from within the Octopus exoskeleton. I reach out my mind wildly to the sigils, like mashing your fingers around on a game controller to try and make your character shoot a fireball. The Mantis lurches like a drunken roller skater but I manage to keep it under control. So far it’s not much of a superweapon.
‘Stop,’ Mirth says. He activates the Octopus and it stands up on its tentacles. With my mind I make the Mantis move toward the Octopus and send a fiery charge of energy at it. Mantis weapons capabilities activated. But the Octopus deflects the blast and rears up, slamming me against the wall with its tentacles. ‘I warned you,’ Mirth says. I look at the sigils on the Mantis. Controlling fire is great, but where are the missiles? Where’s the photon cannon? A tentacle snakes out and I’m thrown against the wall. I’m trying to get up when I’m lifted into the air. The Octopus wraps the Mantis in its tentacles, snaking them through the cockpit. One wraps around my mouth and nose and stops me from breathing.
‘A small part of me hoped that we would actually work together,’ Mirth says. After a few seconds my lungs begin to explode. I suddenly feel calm. I look at the luminescent sigils and I understand. I understand how the Mantis works. I focus my mind and then let it go. The Mantis and I blink out of existence and take the Octopus with us.
16
APOCALYPSE NOW NOW
WE’RE IN THE Cape Town CBD. I stand up between the familiar buildings framed against Table Mountain. I see the three tampon-shaped towers looming above Vredehoek. Next to me the yellow-and-grey trains clatter in and out of the station. Things are almost the same. Almost. The one small difference, which I don’t notice at first but very quickly becomes glaringly obvious, is the logo. The red Octogram logo appears on everything. Billboards on the sides of buildings sport the logo. Octogram pennants outside shops flutter in the wind.
‘You could have chosen anywhere in space and time and you chose a dimension where my plans have already succeeded,’ Mirth says. The Octopus slides toward me, its metallic tentacles rattling against the tarmac. ‘It says something about your deep-seated desires.’
Alternate-reality Capetonians are crowding around us and peering at the exoskeletons quizzically. They probably think it’s some kind of art installation. A bus with a large advertisement plastered on the side drives past me. ‘I don’t think this is quite the reality you’re thinking of,’ I say. I use the Mantis limb to point to the ad on the bus. Mirth turns to see my stern bespectacled face staring back at him. ‘Don’t be a non-playing character,’ it says. ‘Help your Supreme Leader to help you.’
Mirth turns back to me. ‘You?!’
‘I’m sure I gave you good severance pay and a gold watch for your service,’ I say.
‘Perhaps you are more dangerous than I initially assumed,’ Mirth replies.
I smile. ‘A lot of people make that mistake.’
The Octopus shudders with energy and begins to grow. Its tentacles spill forward onto the tarmac and crush a group of curious onlookers. Suddenly aware that this might not be the work of some avant-garde art collective the rest of the alternate-reality folk begin screaming and running.
The Octopus continues to grow, its metallic body glowing hot with energy. ‘You can still bow before me,’ Mirth says, his voice amplified and echoing down the city streets. ‘Or run.’
I do neither. I have control of the exoskeleton. All the power I’ve ever wanted is right here in these sigils. I see how easily it must have been to become Supreme Leader. With this kind of power this whole world, maybe all worlds, could be my Sprawl. I reach out my mind and touch the necessary sigils. The Mantis begins to lurch, shift and gain in size. I grow until I stand facing the Octopus. Gargantuan Time-travelling Octopus versus Giant Inter-dimensional Mantis. Fight!
Mirth lunges forward but I sidestep and drive a giant Mantis leg through one of his tentacles, pinning it to the tarmac below. He lashes out again, wrapping another tentacle around a train and swinging it through the air like a grey-and-yellow whip. The driver’s carriage hits the Mantis in its oblong head and sends me sprawling backwards into a building. Glass from a hundred windows shatters and I find myself staring into an open-plan office where people look up from their cubicles in disbelief.
I resist the urge to apologise and force the Mantis to lurch around as Mirth brings the Octopus rearing up to hit me with the bulk of the huge metal body. I’m flung sideways and land heavily on a delivery truck, crushing it. I try not to think of the person who might have been inside it.
I bring the Mantis back to its feet and quickly instigate evasive manoeuvres as the Octopus begins launching cars at me with its many limbs. I dodge a luxury sedan and crash through the streets, hiding behind a large investment bank building. I’m breathing heavily and the hum of the Mantis shudders through my body. Despite the obvious power of the Mantis, I’m clearly no match for Mirth in a street fight.
So I do what I’m best at; I evade. I quickly cross between buildings and pass behind the Octopus, dodging as tentacles shoot out toward me. I try not to think about the death toll as my giant Mantis legs crush vehicles beneath me as I run.
As I crunch my way over cars and trucks, I realise the fatal flaw in my plan. I’m controlling the Mantis with my mind and my mind is getting tired. My temples begin to throb with the strain of it. I begin to slow down and I have to force myself to concentrate to keep it going.
Mirth is gaining behind me. With my mind I uproot several minibus taxis and send them sailing toward him. He bats them out of the way with a contemptuous flick of a tentacle. The effort of launching cars has tired me even further but I continue to keep the Mantis stumbling forward.
Mirth comes within reaching distance and grabs one of the Mantis’s legs and with a jerk sends me sailing into the air. I spin through the evening sky and crash through the faux-Renaissance vaulted roof of a nearby mall. I wince as I see two chubby shoppers with ice creams crushed beneath me.
I push my exhausted mind to pick the Mantis up and erupt out of the ruins of the mall as Mirth looms above me. I manage to push past his tentacles and drive a metallic leg into the cockpit where he sits. He twists and the leg misses but I manage to pin two of his tentacles down and make the Mantis rear up, ready to drive its legs through Mirth’s brain.
That’s when I’m hit by the missiles. The natives of this alternate Cape Town have obviously tired of the two behemoths wrecking their city and have retaliated by sending several attack helicopters at us. I’m thrown backwards as the missiles slam into the Mantis.
The helicopters surround us and machine-gun fire chatters, sending bullets thumping too close to where I sit. Missiles thud into Mirth and he responds by grabbing two choppers and pile-driving them into the earth. He whips a tentacle around his head, destroying another two helicopters
in mid-air. The remaining two execute a wide evasive arc and retreat toward the mountain.
The Octopus, its head scorched by missile blasts, grabs the Mantis by the head and slams me into the earth. The force of the shock is titanic and I lose focus completely. Mirth picks me up like a pro wrestler and throws the metallic body of the Mantis across several Northern Suburbs neighbourhoods.
Black spots swarm across my vision like excited amoebae. My neck feels numb and I struggle to move it. It isn’t broken but I wonder how close it came. I battle to concentrate my mind but know if I don’t I’m going to be dead in seconds. I push the Mantis to its feet and get caught in several layers of razor wire. I look around. I’m being thrown through the outer wall of the nuclear power station at Koeberg.
As I turn around I’m again hit by a tentacle which sends me slamming into the power station. The Octopus blocks out the setting sun in front of me. I lie there in the Mantis exoskeleton and close my eyes. I’ve done all I can. I’ve been swallowed by Cape Town’s supernatural underworld, digested and excreted. I’ve given it my best and it just wasn’t enough. I stop struggling. I let my mind drop from the controls of the Mantis. It’s been great but after sixteen years I’ve come to the point where it’s time to say sayonara to this mortal coil. I let go completely. And then I see.
I see what I can do. I reach out my mind to the reactor next to me and with a single thought I ignite it. At the same time I focus every inch of concentration left available to me to create a bubble of force around me. The reactor ignites and an immense blast-wave spreads around me. I’m thrown about in a tsunami of fire – swept along on a radioactive wave that rips through the city.
Trees, cars, houses and people cease to exist around me. The wave flings me across the city and sends me sprawling against the mountain. Struggling to keep the bubble of force around me, I bring the Mantis to its feet and climb to the top. I stand on the flat surface of Table Mountain and look down.
The city is aflame. Buildings collapse into themselves. The water of the bay is alight which sends massive plumes of steam into the air. It’s the South African Armageddon, Apocalypse Now Now. And I caused it.
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