The Troll

by Darr, Brian

  “You mean I don’t even have to do this?”

  “Not if you find each other, but I think you’d make a strong statement to the people if you went all the way. You're the face of the revolution right now. You could do it with his help.”

  “You still don’t even know whether or not I'll bother to try.”

  “I wasn’t sure in the beginning, but after tonight, I’m convinced you will.”

  “Because I did what they asked me to do in there?”

  “You went above and beyond. You don’t like them. You’re not with them. Anyone can see it.”

  “Yeah, well, I never cared about Psi,” The Troll said. “I’m pissed because they’re trying to kill me for no reason. I'm pissed at Iris.”

  The Surfer leaned forward and with a seriousness that made The Troll believe that he just might be capable. “Then don’t get killed,” he said with a smile.

  There was no coaching that night. The Surfer only told him to get some sleep…to stay sharp…to be smart. The Troll looked up at the ceiling and his fingers moved as he motioned typing his thoughts. His best bet was in finding The Guide and letting him take the lead. He supposed if they were to meet, he’d go along for the journey. He was safest in the company of others and on the off chance that they did reach Vegas and shut down Psi, maybe he really would get a parade in his honor and a holiday named after him. It was the optimistic thinking that finally caused him to fall asleep and when he woke up at eleven, he was surprised no one had woken him earlier. He had assumed they were on a schedule, but it seemed as if everything they were doing was by the seat of their pants. It seemed as if they knew The Troll was at such a disadvantage that there was no reason to kick him while he was down. They allowed him a delicious dinner, a fancy hotel, and a good night’s rest. It was the peace they’d allow before the storm.

  He sat up and turned to find The Pilot sitting across the room reading a magazine, and at the moment The Troll saw him, The Pilot looked up and caught his eye before he stood and waited quietly.

  “Do you ever talk?” The Troll asked, rolling out of bed. He noticed The Surfer was gone, which saddened him. No last words of advice and no goodbye. The remainder of his life would be surrounded with people trying to kill him—not assist him. Unless he could find The Guide.

  The Pilot's silence answered his question. He waited, but watched as The Troll got ready. “You going to follow me into the shower too?” The Troll asked. No response.

  He tried to take his time, wondering if The Pilot would drag him out eventually, but as he showered, he heard the hotel door open and close a few times, followed by chatter from the other room. No one rushed him. They allowed him the time to ready himself, but even the Troll needed to get it over with.

  He exited to find The Magician and The Coach had joined The Pilot in his hotel. Upon seeing The Troll, The Magician smiled as if the night before was forgotten. “Good morning Troll!” he said, and out of nowhere, a bloom of flowers appeared in his hand, impressing no one. He handed them to The Troll, who accepted them but tossed them in the trash a moment later.

  “We were just discussing a wager on how long you’ll last,” The Coach said with a crooked smile.

  “How long do you give me?”

  “Four hours.”

  “How about him?” The Troll asked, gesturing toward The Pilot.

  “Eleven.”

  “He take off his pants to count that high?”

  The Magician let out a burst of laughter. “I don’t care what anyone says,” he shouted. “I like you. I really do. Another time and place Troll…we could have had fun together.”

  “Then talk to The Moderator and call this off.”

  “Round and round you go,” The Magician said. “You’re talking to a wall.”

  They led him into the hallway and to a cab outside. He was taken to the city limits where a small crowd had gathered. The only friend among them was The Surfer, who stood with The Moderator, his hands bound behind his back. He watched without comment as The Troll was taken to the gates.

  “Give me a moment with him,” The Moderator said, stepping forward. Everyone else held back as The Moderator came face to face with The Troll. The Troll shrank, afraid of what might happen. Surely, The Moderator had watched dinner the night before and was displeased. Any amount of good will The Troll had earned by his acts of respect, would be gone, but The Moderator wasn’t angry. Instead, he seemed tired and defeated. Something The Troll had done had gotten to him.

  “I want to apologize to you,” The Moderator said. “I don’t blame you for your outburst last night. I asked my men to be respectful, but they seemed to feel the urge to play up their roles in this.”

  “It’s okay…really,” The Troll said. What he wanted to tell The Moderator was that his apology was stupid, considering it’s far more disrespectful to murder an innocent person than it was to taunt during dinner.

  “It’s not okay. You know Troll, I’m aware of how unfair this is for you. A lot of people died at my hands once because the world was out of control and someone needed to wipe it out and start again. I used to have nightmares for all the innocent people who died because of what I did, but when I saw the world at peace…orderly and not so materialistic—though they were forced—I realized very quickly that I did the right thing. In fifty…a hundred years, Psi will have just been a turning point that led us to the right place, and while tragic, many sacrifices had to be made to get on that path. Your death is to serve as an example to the rebels out there who challenge us—who try to convince the world that we’re doing the wrong thing. Fear creates order, and these rebels clearly do not fear us…do not respect us.”

  “But why not pick a rebel? Why me?”

  “If you ever meet Iris, you should ask, because I’d like to know the same thing. She is responsible for what’s happening. There is a way out though Troll. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

  The Troll’s eyes lit up. “Okay…I’ll do it. I don’t care what it is.”

  “Do you know what this is?” The Moderator asked. He held up a small device that looked like what people once used as web-cams.

  “It looks like those things they have on all the towers.”

  “That’s right. We need these to transmit and receive signals. This is how we give you music and televise events and messages. Most only receive. The rebels have gotten a hold of a few that transmit in the past, but as far as we know, they no longer have that capability. I’m going to give you one though.”

  “Why?” The Troll asked, taking the transmitter in his hand delicately.

  “There may be people in this world that are hoping you pass this challenge. They believe you’re on their side, and though misdirected, they hope you can break Psi. Of course, you and I know that would be a bad thing, right?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “There’s a way we can accept Iris’s challenge, save your life, and diminish the hopes of the rebels who want to fight us to bring the world back into chaos and anarchy. There’s a way we can assure that Psi lives on forever.”

  “Name it and I’ll do it.”

  “Walk a couple hours or so. My men have been instructed not to touch you today. That gives you some time to prepare for this. Get near a tower, transmit, and denounce the revolution. Tell the world you believe in Psi. Destroy the Rainbow live for all to see.”

  “Really? That’s it?”

  “If you do that, we will bring you back to Circular Prime and you will be a part of our community. You can spend the rest of your days on the Boards if you wish. We’d only ask that you never speak out against us. We would expect your loyalty. All you have to do is use your power of persuasion to convince the world that the idea was foolish…that you love the world as it is…and destroy the only hope they have in front of their very eyes. You’ll be a hero Troll, and you’ll eat and sleep like a king for the rest of your life.”

  “Holy shit…” The Troll said. His world had suddenly turned right-side
up and hope was restored. Not just hope, but glory. In less than a minute, he was told that not only would he live…he’d live in Chicago. “Yeah, I’ll do it. I’ll do it now.”

  “Wait a couple hours. Let this thing begin at the very least.”

  “Of course,” Troll said, eagerly.

  “If you don’t do it by midnight, I’ll understand there was a setback, but at that point, my men will come after you. If at any point in time you want to call it off, just transmit and do as I’ve instructed. Understand?”

  The Troll nodded with a smile.

  “Perception is everything,” The Moderator said. “If you so much as give one of my friends a paper-cut, the world will doubt us. No matter what happens, see to it that Circular Prime doesn't lose the reputation we've built for ourselves.”

  The Troll was too busy nodding in agreement to fully understand.

  Moments later, The Moderator walked him to the starting line. The Mentalist approached without a word and held a machine that looked like a supermarket scanner. He held it to The Troll’s head for twenty seconds until it beeped. Then he walked away.

  “You no longer have Psi,” The Moderator said.

  The Troll closed his eyes, feeling empty without Psi. He felt no different physically. He scanned the faces of those who were present—all ten bounty hunters watched; all likely knew they weren't to kill The Troll, but most seemed as if they still wanted to.

  “Whenever you’re ready Troll,” The Moderator said.

  Just like that, he was off. He took a step. And then another. Soon, the gate was at a distance. When it was, The Troll allowed himself to breath, and the air felt great.

  The Troll only walked for an hour, long enough to put a little distance between himself and the city. He could still see the skyscrapers on the horizon. He sat on the ground and looked toward Chicago. The whole charade was silly. Even without ten people hunting him for sport, he would never reach Vegas on foot. He’d weighed his options just for something to think about. The Moderator and The Surfer each said he would be a hero to their cause if he played along, but The Troll ultimately had to decide, and the decision had been made easy.

  There was still a bit of a nagging feeling eating at him. The Surfer didn’t seem to think much of The Troll, but all he wanted was the world restored in the name of freedom. Before Psi, every news station in every city, every hour of the day, reported constant stories of murder and mayhem, war and hatred, abuse and revenge. It was sickening, but most people believed they were removed from it—that it couldn’t happen to them.

  When The Troll’s parents were attacked and murdered for the money in their pockets outside their home one night, The Troll searched for a reason other than a simple mugging, but that was the reality he was forced to live with. The world was filled with bad people and good people were always victimized by them. When Psi took over everyone’s brains, it seemed like an attack, but within 2 months, there was order. No one could get away with anything, and since people would still kill only to be zapped and killed by The Moderator within moments, The Troll realized that all the lives lost were in the name of a better world—much like the story in the old Bible where God wiped out the world with a flood. Poison had spread all over and to get rid of it, many lives were lost, but the poison disappeared with it.

  The Surfer just saw things differently. The Troll didn’t fault him, but he couldn’t get in line with his way of thinking. In addition, the only guaranteed way to live a long life was to transmit the signal and destroy Rainbow. Even without the temptation of becoming a citizen of Circular Prime, the only sensible thing to do was transmit. He hated to disappoint The Surfer and his followers, and especially the sexy Wigeon, but anyone in his shoes would do the same.

  In the distance, he saw a tower. The remainder of this journey would be easy—a short walk—half a mile at the most, turn on the transmitter, make a statement, and live in paradise. He smiled to himself as he pulled himself to his feet and started the last of his trek, only thinking about what his new life would entail. Good food, prestige, and endless amounts of message board fun. He decided he would take things up a notch. He would be invincible, able to poke and prod away at the posters and tear their opinions into shreds. He’d antagonize them, make them cry, make them type in all caps, and he’d eat roast duck and laugh gleefully.

  He ascended a hill and looked up at the tower. All that was left to do was transmit. He pulled the Rainbow from one pocket and turned it in his hands. He held the key to ending Psi and was moments away from destroying it. Never in The Troll’s life would he have ever believed himself to do something so significant.

  He reached in his inner pocket for the transmitter.

  “Hey,” a voice said.

  The Troll turned, afraid to find one of the bounty hunters there—afraid The Pilot wasn’t going to follow the rules and would just kill him instead. Or maybe it was The Poet, ready for revenge. Instead, he came face to face with a man he’d never seen before—a man who clearly wasn’t part of Circular Prime.

  “I’m The Guide. I assume Surfer told you to find me.”

  “Yeah…” The Troll said, letting the transmitter fall back into his pocket. At the moment, he wouldn’t be able to destroy Rainbow and the thought made him clam up, displeased to be set back. Especially by someone that might not be so easy to get rid of.

  “Good job coming this far,” The Guide said with a smile. “If you give me Rainbow, I’ll take it from here.”

  Part 2

  Chapter 1

  When The Troll didn’t easily hand over Rainbow, The Guide convinced him to start walking to put as much distance between them and the bounty hunters as possible.

  The first thing the men at Circular Prime were going to do was follow the paths, and The Guide didn’t want them to be discovered within moments of their departure. “We need to go in the direction that seems as if there is no path,” The Guide said, and they went on their way through what were once fields, far away from the streets.

  When they were on their way and The Troll was able to think about his dilemma and come up with an approach, he finally said, “I don’t want any help doing this.”

  The Guide was taken aback and they walked side by side in silence for half an hour before he finally responded. “I think you will see is that there is going to be strength in numbers, assuming they don’t have Psi.”

  “I know, but I want to do this alone.”

  “Why not give me The Rainbow? We can split up and throw them off. If you do happen to get caught, I’ll get there.”

  “That’s convenient for you,” The Troll said. “I get killed. You don’t.”

  “You’re holding the single most valuable item that the resistance could possibly have. The fact that you have it outside of Chicago is a miracle. You know what The Moderator is banking on?” The Guide asked. “He’s banking on you failing. I watched the dinner and they don’t think you have a shot. On the surface, it would seem that way, but you have help. They wouldn’t have sent you out with the memory stick if they believed you’d get to Vegas, so you need to be thinking strategy to defy those odds, because once we shut down Psi, they can’t touch you. That’s your way out.”

  The Troll hadn’t truly considered the possibility of success until that moment. Having The Guide with him gave him a sort of strength he didn’t expect, but if he wasn’t there, The Troll would have already transmitted and destroyed Rainbow. Getting the job done would be as easy as ditching The Guide at some point, maybe in his sleep, and transmitting when he was alone. But what if he really got to Vegas?

  He dismissed the thought. His mind was made up. He wanted to be part of Circular Prime. He wanted his old life back. He resented that he was picked for the journey.

  “I take it you know Iris?” The Troll asked.

  “I don’t know Iris. If I knew Iris, I would have been picked for this.”

  “You actually want to do this?”

  “Of course I do,” The Guide said. “Years
of trying to find a way just to get into Chicago have failed us, and this opportunity just fell in your lap. I would kill to be in your shoes.”

  “But if they kill you, what good is it? Especially since they’ll destroy Rainbow?”

  “Rainbow isn’t the only egg in our basket,” The Guide said. “The Moderator used technology against us, and he won, but if history proves anything, it’s that there’s always a better mousetrap being made. We just have to find the hole in their plan and break through.”

  “Consider that there is such a thing as the perfect plan—that there exists an absolute—a wall that can’t be knocked down.”

  “Whether that’s true or not, right now, all we have to do is focus on getting out of here. If we can get to the Mississippi, I can get us much farther undetected, but we need to plan for unexpected surprises.”

  “Like what?”

  “They don’t plan on us making this journey, but maybe they have a fail-safe. Maybe Rainbow doesn’t actually work or maybe all ten will be waiting for us when we get there, or maybe they never really extracted Psi from your head.”

  The Troll stopped in his tracks and frowned. “All they did was put this scanner up to my head and said it was gone.”

  “Supposedly, that IS the process, but that doesn’t mean they took it out.”

  The Troll went into panic mode and his body froze in place. He needed to get rid of The Guide now, before the sun went down and the bounty hunters were no longer restricted by a ‘no kill’ order. “You’re right,” The Troll said. “Maybe we should split up.”

  “What are you up to Troll?” The Guide asked. His eyes burned through The Troll. It was a matter of time before The Guide kicked his ass, took his belongings, and left him there. And then what? He’d be killed for certain. All he could do was tell the truth: Or at least some of it.

  “I don’t want to do this, and I don’t plan on. I want them to let someone else try. I want to wait for someone to come for me and bargain with them.”