by Jak Koke
At first he thought that Meyer had performed the spirit-transfer without telling him. Or perhaps I just forgot that the ritual had been scheduled, Roxborough thought. But then he wondered where he was. Which body he was in. He opened his eyes.
Skyscrapers towered above him, their facades all blue glass and mirrors, reflecting the city's street lamps. There were no sounds of traffic, but he heard the whisper of the falling rain and the soothing rush of wind through the buildings.
Roxborough stood up and surveyed his body. It was a form he was used to even though it had been many years since he'd been inside it. A large belly protruded over his waist, his naked flesh a pasty white, covered only by a threadbare rug of black hair follicles. His feet and bones ached dully from the exertion of standing up. He was in his old body.
"Hello, Rox," came a voice he recognized. A voice that belonged to a woman who had plagued him on and off in the Matrix since the Crash of '29.
He turned to look at her-a medium-height human woman leaning her shoulder against the scratched plexiglass of an old-style phone booth. Her blonde hair was cropped at the shoulder. Her eyes were the blue color of oceans; Roxborough could almost see the sparkle of sun off the water when he looked at them. She wore black jeans and a white cotton halter, and a cigarette rested between the fingers of her right hand, smoke from its tip curling up along her arm.
"Taking up smoking, Alice?" Roxborough said.
"Yes," she said, taking an exaggerated drag from her cigarette. "After all, it can't kill me."
Roxborough laughed. "Very humorous," he said. "So where am I?"
"Welcome to Wonderland," Alice said. "But you can call it Hell." "Whatever do you mean?"
"I mean that I've finally given you your wish," she said. "A real body."
"How did you-" Roxborough stopped as a man stepped up next to Alice, coming from behind the phone booth. The man was tall and well-muscled, but his movements were jerky and not quite natural, as though this was a simulacrum instead of a real person. It was Ryan Mercury.
"Hello, Tommy," Ryan said, calling Roxborough by the name Father had used. "I gave Alice the access codes to get into your system." Ryan tapped his forefinger against his temple. "Many of your memories are in here," he said.
Roxborough stared at Alice. "What have you done?"
"I've trapped your consciousness," she said. "Quite simple once Ryan gave me the codes I needed. I've also reconfigured your own system so that you'll never be able to get back inside. Escape is quite impossible, I'm afraid."
"But why?"
Alice took a final drag on her cigarette and flicked it into the street. "I want to torture you," she said simply. "I want you to know what I went through after the Crash. You know what it feels like to be a prisoner, but do you understand what it's like to be thrust into a world completely out of your control? Where you don't know the rules? Where the most innocuous things can kill you?"
"It wasn't my fault, Alice," Roxborough said. "It was
merely bad luck that you were in my system when the Crash virus flatlined you."
"I'm still gathering evidence. Ryan can't remember the specifics of your involvement with the Crash, but suffice it to say that I think you're full of drek."
"I did not cause the Crash."
Alice shrugged and lit another cigarette. "Time and evidence will judge you," she said. "For now, I've created a new home for you, a special little ultraviolet space. It's part of Wonderland City, but the rules of the reality are very different. Consider it enforced poetic justice."
Roxborough turned to face Ryan. How did this human escape from both Meyer's ritual and Darke's hit team? "How can you participate in this?" he said. "You know my past. Haven't I already suffered enough?"
Ryan shook his head. "I helped her because it's the only way I can truly beat you. I almost became you, and that scares me. Even now, your past is part of me, and I've accepted what you did as part of my history. It's made me a more complete person, but I've decided not to act like you. I'm better than you."
Ryan said this last with his finger pointing directly at Roxborough's chest. "You showed me that I have choices," he went on. "But ultimately, I made my own choice, and it wasn't the one you would have made. I resisted the evil voice."
In the following silence, Roxborough began to clap his hands together, applauding. He forced a laugh. "Nice speech, drekhead," he said. "Sentimental crap, but well stated."
"Alice's plan for you might just change your mind," Ryan said.
"Doubtful," Roxborough said.
Alice took another of her deep drags and exhaled smoke with her words. "In a way," she said, a twisted smile on her face, "this is your dream come true. You get what you've always wanted-a 'real' body."
"I suppose you want me to say thank you."
"No."
"Then what?"
"You'll soon find out," she said.
Then Alice and Ryan were gone, and Roxborough was
standing on a lawn of brilliant green in an English garden. A quiet pond sparkled in the morning light in front of him, and as he turned to look around, a large white rabbit wearing a waistcoat ran by him saying, "Oh dear! I shall be too late!" The rabbit took an old-style watch from its waistcoat pocket and glanced at the time, then jumped under a hedge.
Oh no! Roxborough thought. I don't think I'm going to like this at all.
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