The Way of All Flesh: Illusions Can Be Real

by Corey Furman

  “What will it be like?” she whispered.

  “I – I don’t know.” He could feel his eyes beginning to well, and he covered his face. “I just don’t know, Maré.”

  “Dad,” she said plaintively, “we’re sorry about Mom.”

  And then the tears did fall. He dropped his hand so they could see each other, but his attention spun away with grief. End it, now, push the button, push the BUTTON –

  “I am too.”

  He thumbed the little black chit on the pad, and Maré closed her eyes, stopped moving. Her back no longer rose and fell. He sat there a few seconds half distracted, half in an emotional retreat. In an odd, unfocused way he wondered why tears were slipping down his cheeks and onto his shirt.

  When he mostly came back to himself, he got up, fixed Maré’s hair, and then eased the blanket up around them. When he backed out of the room, he used two hands to keep the door from making any noise as it shut. It would be wrong somehow if he made any noise.

  He needed to do something with them, but there would be time enough after a few hours of sleep. He went to the couch and curled up with his despair, and thought let them have this last embrace.

  Fourteen

  The next morning, Breylin marveled at ever having felt guilty about the passing of the simulants. It was part of their nature, and he made their deaths painless. Hell, I did them a favor. It was a comforting thought but he wasn’t sure he believed it, so he didn’t examine it any closer.

  Breylin called in to work and explained the situation to his boss, and that he would pull a double shift later. Harry reluctantly agreed. He disposed of the simulant carcasses down at the processing station in Twilight and headed home after a long morning of paperwork, brooding the whole way about how the bureaucratic nonsense that all governments and corporations seemed to like to inflict on people was nothing short of gleeful sadism.

  Larissa was in one of her non-responsive moods, so he left her alone in the living room staring out the window at the eternal sunset. He went into the lift port and maneuvered the heavy transport container that held their next pair of twins, then he keyed the activation sequence that would start the cycle that implanted their final memories and bring them out of hyper-sleep. The lid unlocked and popped open a couple of fingers with a hiss. He locked it back in place, then used the couple of minutes it would take for them to come around to put their obedience collars on their necks and key them to his controller. Then he sat down on the fender of the lift and waited.

  It didn’t take very long until one of them, Luna, stirred, picked her head up and looked around. After she spied him through slitted eyelids, she lay her head back down and shut her eyes. She used her hand to massage her brow, as Maré started to come around, coughing.

  He stood up and came to the edge of the container so that they could see each other more clearly. After regarding one another for a few moments he asked, “How are you coming along?”

  “Still a little out of it,” Maré replied, and she coughed a few times. She reached across and took her twin’s hand.

  Luna croaked, “Are you our owner?”

  “Yes. You may address me either as Sir, or by my name, Mr. Breylin. Can you tell me your names?”

  “Maré, Sir. This is Luna.”

  The idea was for you to answer each for yourselves,” he said dryly, “but you seem well enough. Stay here, and I will get you some water.”

  He left the lift port for the kitchen.

  When he returned a couple of minutes later, they were sitting up. Maré was touching her collar, but when she saw him she dropped her hand from the band.

  He handed them the glasses and sat back down on the lift fender. They gulped it down, as if it was the first they’d had in a long time. When they were finished, he took their empty tumblers, set them down on the lift’s hood and asked, “Are you ready to climb out of that box?”

  Luna said, “yes, Sir,” and she looked around, trying to figure out how she might do that.

  “You’re going to need some help,” he said, and lifted her out. Next he offered Maré a hand, who went to him willingly.

  Once they were both out, they stood there and looked up at him, ready for what comes next.

  “Before we go inside, we need to go over something. There are several rules in this house, but first thing you need to know is that my wife, Mrs. Breylin, is your mistress. You will have many duties here, but her needs are your highest concern. I will explain everything to you later, after I have fed you the meal you need after a long hibernation, but first I will take you to meet Mrs. Breylin.”

  They looked at each other, and Maré said “we understand, Sir.”

  They followed him into the house.

  Larissa was still sitting by the window staring out. “Honey,” he said gingerly, “I would like you to meet Maré and Luna.”

  When he touched her arm, she startled, but she turned towards them, her eyes starting to come into focus. “What…?”

  “Riss, this is Maré and Luna, our new simulants,” he repeated.

  She shook her head and came back to her surroundings. “Of course they are.”

  They stepped forward, still holding hands. “We’re very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Breylin,” Maré said.

  “Of course you are, dear,” she said vacantly, and turned back to the window, and perhaps to wherever she’d been moments before.

  The girls looked at Joss, puzzled.

  He jerked his head towards the kitchen. It was going to take a long time to explain the way this house functioned.

  Life with the new pair had been going as well as might be expected. On their first night, Breylin sat them down to a carb-laden meal and explained their duties as the keepers of the house and caretakers for Mrs. Breylin who was, as far as they were concerned, the very center of the world. He was specific, without being too graphic, about what sorts of behavior would earn them correction, and what the possibilities for correction might include. Breylin told them if they followed the rules, then there wouldn’t be any issues, and that he would take care of them fairly. He told them nothing of the accident, except that Mrs. Breylin had lost her legs and an implication of it being the fault of their predecessors. Striking the right balance was something of a challenge; he wanted them to know enough of the past so they’d know what to avoid, yet little enough to keep them a bit uneasy, on edge.

  They took it quietly, but he could tell that wide-eyed Luna was at least nervous, maybe closer to nearly scared. Maré seemed less so, but it overall seemed he’d struck the proportion of tension he wanted.

  “Your day will start when I rise at 5AM,” he told them. “One of you should try to be near Mrs. Breylin whenever she is awake.”

  “We will do as we are told, Mr. Breylin,” said Luna quickly.

  “This is a lot to take in; do you have any questions?”

  “No, Sir. I think we’ve got it. We’ll try not to disappoint you or Mrs. Breylin.”

  “If you think of anything, let me know. It’s better to ask questions than to be punished for misbehaving. I’ll show you to your room now. I want you to get some rest and be ready to face tomorrow.”

  That night in their room, they stripped and showered together, and then they got into bed. Without a thought, Maré drew her Chroma to her and stroked her hair.

  “Are we going to be alright, Maré?”

  “We’re going to be fine, Luna. We don’t have any choice so we’ll accept it. And we’re going to do as we’re told.”

  “I guess…” she started. “I guess it doesn’t seem too bad. I guess you’re right.”

  “That’s a lot of guesses,” she said as she tweaked her nose, but she continued in a more serious manner. “Nothing is going to go wrong, and no matter what happens, we’ll be together.”

  “You’re right, but… I’m still scared of him,” said Luna.

  “We should be scared of him. I think he’s dangerous, but… I think we c
an believe him when he says he’ll take care of us and treat us fairly.”

  “What about Mrs. Breylin?”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t seem… too good. We’ll just have to see.”

  After a few moments, Luna said, “Maré?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “I miss Mom and Dad.”

  “So do I, Luna.” She hugged her tight, and kissed her on the top of her head. “We’re going to have to stick together.”

  Time passed. The pair learned how to do their jobs, ignore the stress between the Breylin’s, and most importantly, how to follow the sometimes-arbitrary seeming rules. There were very few minor incidents, and only one that warranted more correction than a direct talking to; Luna had been late getting dinner started, and as a result it wasn’t ready when Mr. Breylin got home after a particularly stressful day at his job. He’d whipped her feet over the course of an hour using the short, thin length of plastic tubing he kept over the door of their room. He took his time, almost making a ritual of it, and he’d forced Maré to watch, locked in place by her collar and unable to speak. He’d even repositioned her a few times to make sure she had a proper view. He was careful not to break the skin, but the bruising was deep and he’d left Luna’s feet entirely purple and black. She’d limped for four days afterward. He’d done such a thorough job that it made Maré wonder how he’d become so skilled – though she’d kept the question to herself. In any case, it was a hard lesson well learned, and it was the last time they risked dinner not being on time. As bad as Luna had been punished, they were certain that if they made the same mistake twice it would be far worse.

  Their days started early with Mr. Breylin. When he got up he would wake them, and they tended to his needs until he left for work. They would take turns sitting with Mrs. Breylin and doing the chores, which consisted of things like cleaning the house, doing the laundry and preparing the meals.

  The days were boring and long, but they had been cared for, fed and housed as promised. It took time, but Maré and Luna started to trust their owners, despite their idiosyncrasies and strict code of conduct. It was a very small world that just the four of them lived in, there in the solitude of their home overlooking the peaceful canyon, with its eternal sunset and beautiful rust brown mountains further north.

  Though they did take care of her and spend time with her, Mrs. Breylin continued to grow more oddly disconnected. The weeks turned to months, and then their first birthday passed. As his wife’s demeanor deteriorated, Mr. Breylin became more distant from them, then cold, and eventually, outright surly. He would question them for the list of things they had done during the day, sharply if they had difficulty remembering details and times. Most especially, he wanted to know how their interactions with his wife had gone. They learned to pay close attention to those particulars, and they told him everything, but regardless he still grew angry with them, as if they had somehow been the source of her difficulties.

  Mrs. Breylin began to look gaunt and hunted. In addition to cleaning her, they started feeding her or risk her not eating. Fearing his reaction, they went to Mr. Breylin panicked and begging for help. He was clearly upset, but it was as if he understood on some level. Though the extra attention made them apprehensive, they were also relieved that he was now watching their interactions with her. For the first time in their recollection, he admitted that he could see it wasn’t them. It was a very bittersweet realization; they regretted her appalling state, yet they were also guiltily comforted that Mr. Breylin wasn’t blaming them for it.

  Later that night, he took his wife into their bedroom to talk to her. He used hushed tones at first, then heated tones. That was when she began to respond, and she did so with even more heat. Quickly, their discussion turned into an ugly argument, and Maré and Luna hid in their own room with the door closed. The last thing they heard was Mr. Breylin slamming the door on his way into the lift port, and then the whine of the lift’s engine as he sped off to the south. When they checked on their mistress, they found her distraught and refusing assistance for the clothing she had obviously soiled. Fearfully, they obeyed her and went back to their room, where they spent a long, sleepless night holding each other and listening to Mrs. Breylin wail through the walls.

  After that terrible night, things seemed to improve. Mrs. Breylin appeared to be much more alert to what was going on in the room around her, and even talking with them occasionally. At times she would even smile unbidden, as if she were reliving some pleasant memory. She would direct them to get her nicer, more colorful tops to wear, so long as they were long enough to cover her diapers.

  The change in his wife was immediately noticeable to Breylin. He was quite expressive in his apologies for their fight the night before, and within just a couple of days the shell of his nasty demeanor dissolved, revealing the nice man he must have once been. Within a week, the Breylins were almost doting on the girls. One Tuesday night, Mrs. Breylin had Luna dig out a container of Ice Cream from the back of their cold storage chest in the lift port. Chocolate, the label said – and it was delicious as it was ostentatious.

  Later, after the kitchen was cleaned and the preparations for the following morning were complete, Maré and Luna went to their room. They washed and dried each other as usual, but they deviated from their routine to look through a book they had found in their room. It described animals from Earth, most of which, the book said, were now extinct. Many of them had once long ago been kept in great zoos that people would walk through. It was strange to think that people had had things like dogs, cats and other small animals as pets. Why would they want to? With such undeveloped brains, the animals must not have been able to obey very well.

  After they read for a while, they became tired, so they stripped, closed the window shutters and laid down in each other’s arms. The only sounds in the quiet room was the sighing of their blanket. These were their happiest moments, when they held each other close in their nakedness. Luna laid her head on Maré’s chest and listened to her body. After a time, she said, “Maré, you know those pets?”

  “Mmhmm. You mean the cats and stuff? What about them?”

  “Do you think they ever beat them?”

  Maré thought about it. “Probably some. I imagine it was a good way of training them whenever they would break things or go to the bathroom where they weren’t supposed to.”

  “Do you think… Are we pets?”

  Maré was struck by the thought. Could she be right? “I don’t know, hon,” she replied. “What made you think of such a thing?”

  “I don’t know… It just seems like we’re creatures they let stay in their homes.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” It was an ugly line of reasoning to Maré. “We’re of more use to them, but we don’t even live as long as the dogs they used to keep.” She considered where that thinking led, then continued. “Are we real? How would we even know?”

  Luna eased up on one elbow so that their faces were close. “We aren’t human, but we are real, Maré. Do you love me?”

  Maré reached up to caress her face. “You know I do, Chroma,” she said with a warm smile.

  “That’s right, I’m your Chroma,” she said with velvet in her voice. “Can you feel your Chroma love you?”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “That love is real, Maré.” Luna glided her hand up her stomach and gently squeezed her breast. “Tell me, what is in your breast?”

  “My milk.”

  “And when I nurse at your breast;” Luna bent down and drew her nipple into her mouth, and Maré gasped at the pressure of her Chroma’s suckling. “Is it not pleasing?”

  “Mmm… yes… very.”

  Luna slid up higher to offer Maré her own breast. “And when you nurse at mine, doesn’t it thrill you just as much?” Maré’s reply was muffled as she latched on, and Luna clasped her in closer. Maré’s hands danced along Luna’s skin, and she whined as her Chroma drank deeply and parted the folds of her w
omb with her fingers.

  “We are real, Maré…”

  The next morning, Mrs. Breylin got up with the rest of them and saw her husband off to work. It was strange but not unpleasant to have so much activity in the kitchen at this time of their daily cycle.

  After Mr. Breylin left for the morning with lunch and coffee in hand, Luna helped Mrs. Breylin into her shower, while Maré began cleaning in the kitchen. Somewhere around midmorning they would exchange duties, with Luna working on the laundry in their small processor and Maré tending their mistress while cleaning the living room. It promised to be a busy day.

  When it was time to get started on the laundry, Mrs. Breylin stopped them.

  “Girls, I want to prepare something special for Mr. Breylin’s dinner. In the cold storage chest in the lift port, please find a small, blue container of food. I think it must be towards the bottom of the chest.”

  Luna answered for them. “Okay, Mrs. Breylin – I can get it.”

  “Maré, be a dear and go help her.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  They searched for a couple of minutes, pulling things out one by one and stacking them in front of the chest, but they couldn’t find exactly what she had described.

  “Wait, is that it?” asked Luna, pointing a purple container.

  “Wrong color, doofus,” Maré spat playfully.

  “Oh, of course. Just pull out the blue one, then…”

  “Okay, fine, maybe you’re right. She might’ve forgot - the stuff at the bottom’s been down there a long time.” She pulled it out. “I’ll just ask her. You can start putting the rest away.”

  “Fine by me,” replied Luna. “But if you’re wrong, you’re pulling this crap back out.”