Versailles

by Yannick Hill

  scout

  River we told you what would happen if you tried involving the police. Like I said at the beginning of our little chat, it’s best if you walk away from this thing. Missy is safe with us. You have my word.

  pr1ncess

  You’re not Scout Rose, you’re something else.

  On another screen River tried running a location search on whoever this was. To his surprise it was working. He’d have something in the next few seconds.

  Scout is typing . . .

  scout

  I can see what you’re doing, River. It’s fine, I don’t mind you knowing where I am, not anymore. You’re not going to like what you find. Happy hunting . . .

  The satellite image was still loading, the image a pixelated wash of green, yellow, blue and white. And then it came into focus, and River’s heart skipped a beat, the wounds in his forearm suddenly painful with the rush of adrenaline through his body. The green trees, the yellow beach, the blue ocean. The white was Versailles. Whoever this was they were here. Whoever this was chatting with him about Deep Sky, they were right here in the house, in one of Versailles’ one hundred rooms.

  50

  They continued on the northbound highway. Every now and then the trailer went over a bump in the road and something fell off a shelf, but Missy couldn’t do anything about it because she was tied up. She looked at the kid with no name. ‘You tricked me,’ she said. ‘Don’t you feel bad about tricking me?’

  The kid carried on playing his video game. He wouldn’t look at Missy because he didn’t like to see her tied up like that.

  ‘I thought we were friends,’ continued Missy. ‘I thought we made friends back there, but friends don’t lie to each other, they help each other out. You lied to me and now I’m tied up and I don’t know why. I’m scared and I need your help. Do you hear me?’

  The kid died in his video game, waited to get spawned back in, and carried on playing.

  ‘Can you untie me please?’ Missy said. ‘I’ve lost the circulation in my arms and can’t feel my hands. It’s not like I’m going anywhere if you untie me. We’re on the highway.’

  The kid flinched but carried on playing his video game. He liked Missy. She was cute and she was his friend, but she was a bad girl for running away like she did, real naughty, that’s why Daddy tied her up. He felt sad when she went away but now she was back. He liked Missy because she was nice to him and pretty too, she had long blonde hair like a princess. But his dad told him: no matter what she tells you, you don’t untie her. His dad made him promise. He said if he promised they would get him another rabbit, just like Bob.

  ‘What does Bob say?’ Missy said. ‘Does he think you should untie me?’

  How did she know that? How did she know he was thinking about Bob? Oh my God, she must have magic for that, how else could she know he was thinking about his rabbit Bob? How else could she know? He didn’t look at her but he decided he should talk to Bob about it, quietly, in his head. ‘Bob?’

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi, Bob, how are you today?’

  ‘I’m okay,’ said Bob. ‘I miss you.’

  ‘I miss you too, Bob.’

  ‘What video game are you playing?’ said Bob.

  ‘My favorite,’ said the boy, ‘but I keep dying over and over in the same place.’

  ‘You’re using the wrong gun.’

  ‘How would you know, Bob? Rabbits don’t know guns!’

  ‘I know everything,’ said Bob. ‘I’m Bob.’

  ‘Okay, so what should I do about Missy? She wants me to untie her but my dad told me no.’

  ‘What do you think you should do?’ said Bob.

  ‘I want to untie her,’ continued the boy in his head.

  ‘But your dad told you no.’

  ‘I know, but Missy’s my friend. She took care of me when you died.’

  ‘I’m not dead! I’m right here,’ said Bob the rabbit.

  ‘I know that but I like Missy, she’s funny and she looks like a princess.’

  ‘So what are you waiting for? Untie her!’

  ‘But my dad told me no. He made me promise. He said if I did as I was told we could get a new rabbit that looked just like you, Bob.’

  ‘I like your dad,’ said Bob. ‘He knows what’s right.’

  ‘I guess,’ said the boy with no name. He said goodbye to Bob and spoke out loud to Missy. ‘Bob says I should leave you tied up.’

  ‘Well, Bob doesn’t know what he’s talking about,’ said Missy.

  ‘We’re almost there, Missy, can’t you wait a little longer? I can get you some apple juice. There’s apple juice in the fridge. I could get you some of that . . .’

  The boy with no name picked up his controller and carried on playing his video game. Missy waited a while before asking. ‘Where’s your momma?’

  The boy didn’t miss a beat. ‘My dad says she dead but I don’t believe ’m.’

  ‘Why don’t you believe him?’

  ‘I see her at night sometimes,’ sighed the boy lazily. He’d changed guns. Bob was right about the guns.

  ‘What, like a ghost?’ Missy said.

  ‘No, not like a ghost,’ said the boy. ‘She real, she only come at night though, and she don’t say nuthin’. She just sits on my bed and holds my hand. I can feel her hand and it’s warm.’

  ‘You think it could be a dream?’ said Missy.

  ‘Yeah, I guess,’ said the boy, ‘but it feels real. I can feel her hand and it’s warm, I can smell her perfume and sometimes she’ll kiss my cheek goodnight. Other times she doesn’t do that.’

  ‘You ever tried talking to her?’ asked Missy.

  ‘I always ask her, but she won’t answer me. I ask her, Are you real, Momma? But she just sits there, lookin’ at me. I can see her eyes in the dark and I know she can hear me, but she won’t answer.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ Missy said.

  ‘It’s okay. I like it when she visits.’ He’d never talked about this to anybody, except Bob of course. Missy really was his friend and he felt badly about her being tied up.

  ‘Where are we going?’ said Missy. ‘What’s it like there?’

  The boy didn’t answer, the game controller clicking and squeaking in his hands.

  Deep Sky. They had to be getting close. Deep Sky. Scout’s warning. This feeling all through her body. This fear. It was the strangest thing, ever since she was tied up, this fear – a new sense that it belonged to her somehow, like, like – happiness. When something made you happy, you remem-bered what it was so you could have it again. Adults did it all the time. The choice of wine. The choice of music. The lighting of a cigarette. Their lives had structure. Control. This fear. The sword, Versailles in the rear mirror. Twinkies, balloon rides. These were choices. Her choices. Deep Sky. This fear. This must be what being an adult felt like. A wak-ing dream. A dream of life. The degrees of control. You live by your choices. Her decision to run away. Her fear. Deep Sky. She was still curious. Scout’s story about the diamonds for eyes. Even if it was true, she would have a choice. Or maybe not. She remembered Silas’s words after the bear encounter . . . Because once you start on this journey of ours, there’s simply no turning back. There’s no going home. Does that frighten you, Missy, when I say those words to you? It still frightened her, but this fear belonged to her. She found herself relaxing. Bound by her choices. The rope Silas used to tie her up. It stopped cutting into her flesh so much. She felt the texture of the road, it vibrated through her bones.

  It was all starting to make sense to Missy. When she felt fear, a part of that fear – it belonged to her. If she could just get through this, come out the other side alive, it would give her fear shape, like, it could become a story she told. Or didn’t tell. Same with her anger. She was angry with her dad. She was angry with her mom. But if she could just stop feeling like a victim, like everything was happening to her, maybe she could be less angry. If she could take control . . . She was her father’s daughter. She was her mothe
r’s daughter. But she was also Missy Baer, and she was ready to face the world like an adult, sword by her side. Yes, Deep Sky were behind all this. Yes, she was kind of being kidnapped. But at the same time it was she who said yes to Silas when he asked her was she ready, way back in the trailer park.

  Missy was ready. Ready to stop being the angry teenager, put all that energy into whatever was coming next. This fear belonged to her. It made her feel alive. Like no number of likes ever could, no single comment under her photo telling her how perfect she was. She wasn’t perfect. She was Missy. Sixteen candles, an arc of quicksilver. For the first time since her kiss with Levon, she felt like she could do anything. Missy wasn’t missing, she was starting to find herself. Oh my God, that sounded lame, but it was true. She felt it in her bones. The bones inside her body inside her clothes. She felt the texture of the road. It was smooth. Not like a road at all. The rope Silas used to tie her up. It stopped cutting into her flesh so much. The road so smooth, the landscape playing like a movie. It felt like flying. I’m flying — Like an arrow — My black feathers fluttering in the wind — My wings fluttering with black feathers — I’m flying, away from them, away from everything.

  51

  A living daymare. A stranger in the house. Someone who knew about Missy, knew everything. River’s nemesis. unknown_user, ruhin, InnerFame, whatever his real name was, he was inside these walls, breathing the same air, blood pumping round his body underneath his clothes. One hundred rooms. River sat before his seven screens, all windows minimized but one, his fingers resting lightly on the keyboard. Versailles’ security mainframe. The taste of chocolate, the dream of an answer, a line of code, the key to every room in Versailles. It fell through him like rain. Pure inspiration.

  01001101 01101001 01110011 01110011 01111001 00100000 00100110 00100000 01010010 01101001

  01110110 01100101 01110010

  Their names in binary. Missy and River. He pressed enter and the sound was a depth charge near the surface of the ocean; one hundred deadbolts throughout Versailles sliding back into one hundred doors. A rush of goosebumps, part fear, part excitement.

  ‘Squawk!’

  ‘Shut up, Money,’ River said, ‘that was all me, you’re not taking any credit, you little scumbag.’ River thought for a second. ‘You know what, Money, I take that back, the part about you being a scumbag. I got a lot on my mind, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Scumbag,’ repeated Money.

  ‘Right,’ said River, ‘now shut up like I said, I gotta concentrate.’

  What to wear. If he was going to save his sister, he had to look the part. The bear costume didn’t feel right. Too childish. But just the headpiece. The head of a bear and his normal clothes. Really freak out the intruder. River kept on the headpiece and grabbed his potato gun from the box of tricks. It was made to look exactly like a Glock G21, only it shot potato pellets instead of real bullets. He tucked it inside the waistband of his skinny pants like an OG and headed out, an old green potato in each pocket. He opened the door to his bedroom and saw the folded paper on the floor. A note from his mother. He almost didn’t read it, but he couldn’t help himself. He heard her voice inside his head, delivering the lines like an actress.

  River I came to you while you were sleeping. I came to tell you I love you that was all. I love you, River, and only want you to be happy. I came to tell you that. I also came to tell you that your sister is safe. Your father told me she is safe but would not tell me where. I was thinking maybe when she’s back we should get together, the four of us, to eat something. It’s so important for a family to sit together around a table once in a while. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know when we stopped doing that, but I would like it very much if you would join us. We could have gumbo and potato salad, it was always your favorite when you were a little boy. I love you so much, River. I know I haven’t always been there. But I want to make it up to you and your sister. I would like very much to have the opportunity to make it up to you and Missy. So I was thinking we could go on vacation together, just the three of us. We could—

  He didn’t have time for this. River made a paper plane out of the letter and sent it flying down the corridor. The truth was he loved her back. But she was weak, she was weak and he hated to see her weak because she could be strong, she was strong, the most talented industrial designer of her generation. She’d designed some of the most iconic technology in the history of personal computing, but that was a long time ago and now . . . she was lost and no one was looking. He loved her back but— And he was weak because of her. Casey telling him he was nothing and his mother right across the room, right across the room saying nothing. She never protected him. That was all Missy, but Missy was his sister, she was just a kid like him. Synthea was their mother. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called her Synthea to punish her. Now he just called her that. She was weak and he was weak because of her. Standing right across the room and saying nothing.

  And now Missy wasn’t here and River was alone. Like a daymare. A stranger in the house who knew where Missy was. What was he going to do when he found this character? Jesus Christ, this wasn’t a video game, this was real life and all he had was this potato gun from his box of tricks. Important to be systematic. One room at a time. ‘Later, Money,’ he called, pulling the heavy door of the bunker closed behind him.

  52

  Click, click.

  Push to open.

  Another pill.

  Synthea imagined it dissolving in her belly, behind the smooth white skin of her belly, deep inside, fizzing away seamlessly and entering her bloodstream. When she first started taking the pills she found the whole thing quite frightening. The delayed effect. The uncanny sense of smoothed edges, these missing segments of herself. A dissolving of self, her core replaced by one just like it, only molded out of white plastic this time, perfectly formed like one of her designs: no seams, no divides. No workings. A dull infinity. Her ego a white plastic orb reflecting no light whatsoever. They weren’t messing around, the pharmas making this stuff, this opposite of magic.

  She imagined the pill dissolving in her belly, deep inside her warm body, still warm under the covers, the silk sheets of the king-sized bed, the master bedroom, their bedroom. I want to build you a house. But this was never her house. She lived here like her children did, but this was never her home. Versailles. This was his life, his vision. Versailles had never felt like a home, this house, this monstrosity, this blight had never felt like a home, somewhere to bring up a family. His dream, her nightmare. I want to build you a house by the ocean. But as the years went by, the ocean seemed to have receded, a tidal retreat independent of the moon’s influence.

  The early years: her beautiful office with that impossible view. It’s everything you ever wanted. Isn’t this everything you ever wanted? It’s everything you ever wanted. I built it for you to make you happy, so you could be closer to your family. It was where she did some of her best work – her life’s work, as it turned out. But it was still working from home. It didn’t matter that she had all the equipment she could ever need, they were still the same walls, always the same walls closing in. To create we must translocate. She remembered realizing one day that she hadn’t left the grounds in several weeks. And that is exactly how Casey wanted it. Versailles was their prison, the scale deceptive, mirror on mirror. The painted perspective. The ocean framed and framed again. Walls within walls. One hundred rooms and the majority were locked.

  No wonder her Missy wanted to run away. No wonder when, no wonder when— and then . . . a loss of concentration, the first effects of the tiny white pill, she feels it now, now no longer a pill but an altered state, a shift in perspective from here to there. The sense of something moving from the nape of her neck and over her head, of something like a cowl, an almost weightless hood being pulled forward over her head by another agency, across her scalp and ending over her forehead, eyes shielded from an invis­ible sun, this dull infinity, no start or end only flow, like a
river seen from a great height, seemingly unmoving, a river flowing on and on toward the ocean, ever wider as the freshwater grows heavy, the vast hulls of nameless cargo ships now like airships in the summer haze, the river ever-widening until it is the sea, the glittering ocean, the endless ocean.

  The pill working its horror, but the love in her heart, the warmth to her hands, she could still be herself – elbows to fingertips – the concern for her daughter, the cold steel door to River’s bunker, her son asleep on the other side, her special, special boy, her only prince, the pill working its horror, but the love in her heart, her role as their mother, her elegant profile glimpsed in the closing French window, a once beautiful woman, the warmth to her hands and the coolness of the water, the glittering ocean beyond the black curtains of the master bedroom, these terrible black curtains. These terrible black curtains shielding her from the real sun outside, the glittering ocean, the endless ocean, her only escape. The pill working its horror, but the love in her heart, her role as their mother. It was all her fault. Missy running away, River locked away in his bunker. Synthea saw that now. All her secrets and regrets, doubts and desires. Things about Casey, things not meant for Missy’s ears.

  It was all her fault. Standing in the room as Casey called their son names, told him he was good for nothing. Her standing in the room and saying nothing. All these years. Resting her head on Missy’s shoulder. Missy always saying the right things, but she was still a child, sixteen candles and all the magic gone. Synthea saw it now. It was all her fault. She let this happen. From the beginning. I want to build you a house by the ocean. I want to have your children. She knew Casey was manipulating her but there was no point arguing, it would lead nowhere. She’d let Casey get his way, she always had. Sometimes she was the mother, knowing the right words to say. Other times she felt like a child. He frightened her. His shouting, his roaring, his own childishness turning to something monstrous. He was a monster. And there was nothing the good monsters in River’s wardrobe could do about it. This was all her fault. She’d done nothing to protect her kids. Resting her head on Missy’s shoulder. She closed her eyes and saw whiteness. ‘I’m going swimming,’ Synthea said out loud. Leticia opened her eyes. They were asleep only a few hours. Her over and she under the covers. ‘I want to swim in the ocean today,’ Synthea said.