Mindwarp

by James Follett

  The Diablon was Tarlan, his brother.

  PART 4. Mindwarp.

  1.

  The largest expanse of water that Ewen had ever seen was the campus swimming pool, but this was vast. It seemed to stretch for infinity, and was the same colour as the arching splendour of the mighty blue dome that, like the water, seemed to have no boundary. The warmth that beat down him was of a stupefying intensity that should have worried him because such heat and light meant a dangerously overloaded system. And yet he was at peace, lying naked on a stretch of dry, yellow sand that yielded pleasantly to his body. The strange expanse of sand sloped gently down to the water.

  “Ewen!”

  A girl was rising out of the water, her blonde curls matted against her head. She was naked. The water streamed between, around and over bronzed, hypnotic breasts that swayed and jostled with a sensual, independent motion as she walked towards him. The rivulets merged into one below the fascinating breasts, forming an inverted arrow of sparkling light across the golden swell of her abdomen that drew his gaze willingly down…

  “Ewen…”

  Her voice was gentle sigh.

  It was Jenine!

  Jenine’s eyes. Jenine’s smile. Jenine’s delightful blonde curls…

  “Ewen!”

  This time the voice was harsh. It was beside him. He turned and there was Tarlan, lying on his back and staring at him with lustreless eyes that were already filming with death. His hands were clutching at his stomach but the blood oozed indifferently through his fingers, staining the golden sand.

  “It’s cold, Ewen… So cold…”

  “Tarlan!”

  His younger brother’s lips moved and whispered. “Why, Ewen?”

  “Tarlan! How can it be you?”

  His brother’s words were punctuated with harsh, choking rasps. “It’s me, Ewen. You joined them… You joined the Diablons… To kill me… You always hated me.”

  “No!” Ewen cried, and lifted Tarlan’s head onto his knees. “I swear before the Guardian of Destiny that I thought you were a Diablon!”

  A hideous parody of a smile distorted Tarlan’s lips. “Not me, Ewen… Not me… I was bad but I was never evil. I didn’t join them. I didn’t kill my brother.”

  “Tarlan I swear-”

  “Cold, Ewen… So cold.” Tarlan’s breathing stopped abruptly but his eyes remained open, staring with icy accusation at Ewen.

  “Tarlan! I didn’t know! I didn’t know!”

  He lifted the still form but Tarlan’s head lolled back. Ewen released him. He raised his hands and saw that they were in blood. He wiped them frantically on the sand but that too was saturated with blood. He pushed clean sand over his brother; over the stomach from where the blood flowed, over the face, covering the blood…

  And Tarlan’s eyes.

  Especially his eyes.

  But the blood soaked through.

  Flies buzzed around his head and settled on the red-stained sand to gorge themselves on Tarlan’s blood.

  He worked faster and faster, using great, sweeping scoops with his hands, piling up the soft, easily-worked sand to form a mound that completely covered the incriminating corpse.

  But the unstoppable crimson stained through, and the greedy, insatiable flies became an angry, insistent swarm.

  The great bowl of blue above Ewen darkened, and the strange warmth was suddenly gone, replaced by a freezing draught of air that sucked the heat from his body. His movements became a demented frenzy as he piled up the sand. The mound grew higher and the swarming flies blackened the sky. His arms ached and yet he didn’t stop his feverish work of burying his guilt.

  And still the blood soaked through.

  He collapsed, naked and exhausted over the mound, his tears of misery and wretchedness merging with the spreading stain. His body heaved with uncontrolled sobs, and the blood that soaked through the sand added its chilling touch against his flesh to that of the icy air.

  “Ewen!”

  It was the girl’s voice but he wanted to be alone with his guilt and misery.

  Much louder now. “Ewen!”

  A voice he knew. Jenine?

  “Ewen!”

  It was definitely Jenine. Thin but strong arms around him, lifting him to a sitting position.

  “Ewen! It’s all right! It’s me. You’re back. It’s all over.”

  His body was suddenly racked with uncontrolled shivering. He needed warmth. This was the punishing cold that Tarlan had spoken of.

  Tarlan! Forgive me! Forgive me!

  The need to be alone was gone. He craved her touch and her warmth - the suffocating mother-warmth, and the sublime, selfish baby comfort of soft mother breasts pressed against his face. Her dressing gown had fallen open but there was nothing for him but silky, transparent skin drawn over hard ribs.

  “It’s all right now, Ewen. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re safe now.”

  Jenine had no idea how long she sat on the edge of Ewen’s bed, holding him close to her. She wondered what had happened to him in those ten days at the front that had changed him so. Perhaps he would tell her when he was ready. Gradually his shivering stilled, his breathing became regular, and the powerful grip of his arms, which had so surprised her with their strength, gradually relaxed. She lowered him to his pillow, drew the bedcovers over him, and left his bedroom.

  As she lay in her own bed, trying to ignore the questions that had been clamouring for answers since Ewen’s return that afternoon, she realised that she could still feel the wetness of his tears on her breastless nipples.

  2.

  Technician-Father Framson’s pointer moved to the fourth sphere on the projected diagram. He looked up at the 20 or so 11th year students gathered in the small lecture theatre.

  “And this is the planet Kyros. As you can see, it has a reddish colour. This much the Guardian of Destiny has revealed to us, but the symbolism of its redness is something we can only guess at.”

  A query light was flashing on the panel before him.

  “Yes, Ewen?”

  Ewen rose to his feet. “What are planets?”

  Father Framson sighed. “As I’ve already explained, you will have to refer to the notes in your datapad, Ewen. You have missed the introductory sessions.”

  Ewen remained standing. There was a curious strength about him that Father Framson found disturbing. It was as though the young man was undergoing some sort of strange physical change that he could not define.

  “The notes are meaningless to me, Father Framson.”

  “The planets are abstract aspects of heaven-”

  “Abstract? Then why are we bothering to study them?”

  There was a soft gasp from the other students that Jenine did not contribute to. She turned in her chair and regarded Ewen thoughtfully.

  “The next three months are devoted to heaven studies,” said Father Framson evenly. “The entire subject deals with increasing your understanding of abstract spiritual matters. Indeed this year, your 11th and final year, is entirely taken up with spiritual matters. It is the most difficult year of all and is left until now because it is hoped that you are all mature enough to cope with the very difficult concepts involved.”

  “I understand that, Father Framson. If you can’t tell me what planets are, then perhaps you can tell me what they’re for?”

  “They are aspects of heaven.”

  “But, whatever they are and wherever they are, surely they must have a purpose? Or are you suggesting that the Guardian of Destiny indulges in the pointless?”

  The lecturer began to get rattled but was too experienced to show it. “Nothing the Guardian of Destiny does is pointless; it is your understanding that is lacking. Something I am trying to remedy.”

  “Then tell us what planets are, what they are for, and where are they? If you can’t answer those three basic points then we’re wasting your time, and you’re wasting ours. And there’s more of our time than yours to waste.”

  “You’r
e being irrational, Ewen. If you-”

  “All right. I’ll give you an easy question, father. Where is Diablo? There’s nothing abstract or spiritual about it, is there? There’s nothing spiritual about the daily carnage.” And then he was shouting across the theatre at the numbed lecturer. “Everyday we’re told how many young Aramans have been blown-up and maimed and killed, and how many Diablons have also been blown-up and maimed and killed! So where is it?”

  There was a stunned silence from the audience as student and lecturer stared at each other.

  “I think,” said Father Framson slowly, “that in view of your frame of mind, it might be a good idea if you skipped the rest of this lecture.”

  “I was going anyway.” Ewen slipped his datapad into a shoulderbag, and left the lecture theatre.

  Jenine caught up with Ewen as he strode across the campus towards the residential block.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Ewen.”

  He glanced at her without slackening his stride. She had to trot to keep up with him. “Why not? It’s time somebody said something.”

  “What’s the point of upsetting Fram? He’s a decent enough lecturer. He’s only doing his job.”

  “Last week I was with trained killers who were only doing their jobs. Arama is four million people going around in aimless circles, going nowhere, getting nowhere. And they’re all doing their jobs. And when they’re not doing their jobs, all they’re thinking of is gratifying their petty little needs; dressing up in weird clothes; going to weird parties; muddling their way through their weird little lives. And for what? I thought we had a useful job to do. Keeping the whole thing working. And suddenly we have to swallow a lot of lies about stars and planets that no one understands. Well, I’ve had enough.”

  The blasphemy about lies disturbed Jenine but she said nothing, not wishing to upset Ewen any more than he was already. “Let’s talk it over in the apartment,” she suggested in a reasoning tone.

  Five minutes later they were settled in chairs in Ewen’s bedroom with drinks from a vending machine before them.

  “What happened at the front, Ewen?”

  He looked sardonically at her. “Why should you think anything happened? Didn’t you check up on me? Find out that I wasn’t actually doing any fighting?”

  “But something happened to you, although I can’t think why I worry. You don’t smile anymore. You have dreams. No-one has dreams. You’ve changed so much since you returned.”

  “Most of those sent to the front get changed by PD blasts or recycling machines. At least that didn’t happen to me…” He broke off for a moment and added, “Sometimes I wish that it had.”

  Jenine moved to sit at his feet with her hand resting reassuringly on his knee. Sometimes she liked touching him. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  There was no answer.

  She looked up and saw his tears. Before she could do or say anything, Ewen started talking. Over the next ten-minutes he told her the whole story.

  Jenine broke the long silence that followed when he had finished. “I’m sorry, Ewen… I’m so sorry… I don’t know what to say.”

  “Thanks for listening.” He tousled her hair and smiled wanly, the first time she had seen him smile since his return. “It’s hard to admit this, Jenine, but you’re good for me.”

  “I know it’s easy for me to say, Ewen, but it’s important that you don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault, and if you insist on thinking that it is, then you’re creating in your mind the same sort of lie that you’re blaming them for.”

  He saw the wisdom of her words and nodded. “Do you believe me when I say that Diablo doesn’t exist?” he asked.

  She hesitated and shook her head. “I don’t know what to believe. We’ve always been taught that Diablo is the enemy of the GoD. If Diablo doesn’t exist, then does the GoD…?” She couldn’t bring herself to utter the profanity by completing the sentence.

  “I don’t think the GoD exists,” said Ewen grimly. “Not in the way that we think - as the creator. Maybe it’s nothing more than a powerful machine, but there’s nothing divine about it.”

  Jenine looked troubled. “But why say there’s such a place as Diablo if it doesn’t exist?”

  “Simple. It’s been invented solely to keep the population stable. They get rid of the misfits and criminal elements by conscripting them into the Diablon army. They tell both sides that they’re fighting the evil and profane forces of Diablo and let them get on with it. Wounded Araman soldier are sent home, but no so-called Diablon ever survives so no-one ever finds out the truth. It’s a lie. Just like everything else in this rotten society.”

  “What made you want to find out about Diablo?”

  He was silent for a while, marshalling his thoughts. “Just after I started at the front, I caught a glimpse of a dead Diablon. I didn’t get a good look at him, but I thought that he looked just the same as us. We’ve always been taught that they rejected the word of the Guardian of Destiny. I wanted to know if the laws of the GoD work for them as they work for us. If they rotate a coil in magnetic field, is the GoD power generated in the circuit for them as it is for us? If so, do they have a different name for the GoD power?” He stared at the floor. “You remember the maps you sent me? I spent hours studying them. It occurred to me that maybe the Diablons came from the outdoors.” He smiled crookedly. “Crazy, but I had to know.”

  “Crazy is not the word for it,” Jenine agreed. “Chasing after a people that don’t exist, that come from a place that doesn’t exist.”

  “I believe that the outdoors exists,” Ewen replied seriously.

  “Because of your dreams?” She nearly said, “your stupid dreams’ but checked herself.

  He hesitated and saw that she wasn’t mocking him. “I’m not the only one to have had such dreams. I don’t know if they are dreams. I think they’re a stirring of a race memory of somewhere which we’ve turned our back on, and it is now time to return.”

  Rather than get involved in a long and fruitless argument, Jenine turned her mind to the problem of Ewen’s outburst during the lecture. “Before we do anything else, we’ve got to do something about Fram. If he puts in a report, it could make things very difficult for you.”

  Ewen nodded. Already he was regretting his outburst. Not because of what he had said, but because it had been directed at Fram. He liked the senior lecturer.

  “Have you told anyone else about what happened?” Jenine asked.

  “No - no-one.”

  “Well you mustn’t.”

  “I was thinking… I’ve always been honest with my mother. But I don’t think I could tell her this.”

  Jenine became very earnest. “You mustn’t, Ewen. You simply mustn’t. It’ll only add to her grief. You have to keep telling yourself that if you hadn’t been there, Tarlan would be dead now anyway. You have to keep saying it to yourself over and over again. You mustn’t add to her hurt.”

  Ewen nodded slowly. “I suppose you’re right. But it’ll be hard - living a lie with her. Especially her.”

  “It’s nothing compared with the lie that your brother was sent to fight the Diablons - that he was sent to be killed.” Jenine wrinkled her face in concentration. “Now Fram. At least you didn’t say outright to him about Diablo not existing…”

  Thinking they were vending machine snacks, she reached out for a bowl on the low table and absently picked up one of the ration pack biscuits that Ewen had brought back. She bit it in half, and chewed thoughtfully while wondering what to do about Fram. She suddenly stopped chewing and looked at the biscuit in surprise.

  “Where did you get these?”

  “From the front.”

  “What? From vending machines?”

  “That sort of thing, yes.”

  Her jaws stopped and she looked worried. “Is it all right to eat? I mean-”

  Ewen’s eyes sparkled impishly with their old humour. “Oh yes. They’re available to everyone. Good, aren’t they?”


  Jenine’s teeth went back to work. “Good! They’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted!” She swallowed, popped the rest of biscuit into her mouth, and looked anxiously at the bowl.

  Ewen chuckled at her expression. Suddenly he seemed to be his old mischievous self again. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty more.” He reached under his bed and dragged out two bulging military kitbags. He opened one of them and pulled out two ration packs. Jenine caught a glimpse of brightly-coloured plastic. It was the butt of a PD sidearm.

  “What was that?”

  Ewen closed the kitbag. “What was what?”

  “Something in the bag.”

  “I brought all sorts of souvenirs back with me.” He gave her the ration packs. “A present from the front. And there’s more when you want them. They last a long time.”

  Jenine stuffed another biscuit in her mouth and took the packs. “And their seals will open for anyone?”

  “Oh, yes. They’re just like the vending machine snacks.” He held the bowl under her nose. “Try a capsule.”

  She fished a capsule from the bowl and put it in her mouth. It dissolved instantly. A look of wonder crossed her face. Another capsule disappeared. “I would never have thought that eating could actually be fun.” She pushed the bowl away. “Right… Enough of this frivolity. I’ve decided what you should do. Firstly, you must apologise to Fram.”

  A stubborn light came into Ewen’s eye. “I couldn’t do that. I meant what I said.”

  “Apologise for upsetting him - not for what you said. It’s a matter of phrasing. It’s important to stop him filing a report to Tarant. He’s a reasonable guy.”

  “Tarant?”

  “No idiot - Fram. Secondly, you have to tell him that you’re not ready for the final year and that you want to take the tenth year again to study for a practical project before plunging into the convoluted abstracts of the 11th year. It’s happened before. Trany Lodis; Meild Sonda, and others - they’re all doing an extra tenth year.”

  Ewen looked doubtful. “I don’t know…”