by L. V. Lloyd
I had to get a grip on myself. What was happening?
I heard the door slam as Rik went out. He didn’t come back all that night.
To my dismay, the primary emotion I felt was one of relief. I rose the next morning, prepared a leisurely breakfast for myself and went in to work, but for the first time I felt restless. Something felt different today. It took a surprisingly long time to realise I was bored. The tasks which were normally so satisfying were, today, excruciatingly boring. The same thing over and over again, for hours.
At lunchtime, instead of sitting in comfortable silence with my co-workers, concentrating on the simple meal prepared for us, we talked. Hesitantly at first, then one after another of us came out with a story about what had happened the night before, either to us personally or to somebody else we had heard about.
I soon learned that Rik and I had got off lightly. Although many couples had come to blows, it was whispered that Soldiers had been killed in their sleep, that some Workers had committed suicide, unable to cope with the changes they felt inside. Their world turned unaccountably upside down.
There was nothing reported in the daily news cast.
Rumours, however, blossomed faster than yeast. Radiation had broken through the dome, causing bizarre aberrations. Something had got into the water supply, causing mass hallucinations. It was a conspiracy, a plot against the Council. Someone had hacked our tattoos and Workers had got the Shield dose meant for Soldiers, and Soldiers had got the dose meant for Workers.
That one rang true. For it was certainly after our visit to the Clinic that I noticed the change in myself. It didn’t take much of a leap for me to guess that the Shield dose for Workers contained a sedative, a drug which kept us obedient and compliant. If Soldiers had got a dose of that, it explained why so many had been caught unawares when they were attacked.
No one knew exactly what was in the Shield dose given to Soldiers but it seemed fairly likely it included testosterone as well as the absence of sedatives.
I wondered what I would find when I went home that night. One thing was certain, Rik and I would have to sit down together and have a long talk. I thought I still loved him, but... my belief was shaken. How did I know what was real and what was the drugs? Would Rik even still want me, if I started standing up for myself? I didn’t know.
The world had changed and we would both have to deal with it as best we could, I thought hopefully.
I woke up the next morning, still caught in the webs of last night’s dream. That was a weird one! I shook my head to clear it, the details already fading. I noticed my right hand was absently rubbing my left wrist, over my caste code tattoo.
I lay there admiring the red Hammer and Sickle for a moment. The colours seemed even brighter today.
What was I doing lazing here in bed, when it would soon be time for breakfast?
I jumped up, dressed quickly and tiptoed through Rik’s room to the kitchen, careful not to disturb him. For a moment I blinked at the calendar—surprised it was already Tuesday. Where had yesterday gone? Before I could worry too much about it, I realised I must have made a mistake. I could hardly have lost a whole day!
Shaking my head again with a rueful smile, I put eggs and bacon into the pan, cooking them just the way Rik liked. I hummed as I cooked. Just enough time to take Rik breakfast in bed and still be on time for work.
My Day at the Beach
Today we were going to the beach.
Not my favourite place to be honest, but Tony had always loved it. His long legs pounding across the sand, propelling his lean body into the waves, relishing the feel of water against his skin as he swam out to the breakwater and back.
I would sit on the beach and watch, trying hard not to count the minutes until we could leave. Despite wearing a hat, shirt and trousers, my pale skin always managed to blister, somewhere.
“Come on, Jay,” he’d call. “It’s beautiful, once you’re in!”
“I’m fine where I am!” I’d answer, smiling.
Then he’d come out of the sea, breathless and dripping water and fling himself down on the towel beside me. “That was wonderful,” he’d murmur, soaking up the sun. His hand would reach out to take mine, holding it tight until he slowly relaxed his grip, drifting off into a light doze. That was always the best moment of the day.
And then had come the bombs.
They poisoned the air and drove us all into underground shelters. Reports claimed over 90% of the world’s population had been wiped out in those first few days; before communications shut down entirely. Crowded into bunkers, suicide levels were high as survivors struggled to cope with the horrific fallout, but those who were left, gradually found themselves adapting as humans did so often to a changing environment, despite the radiation sickness.
We got used to living underground, never seeing the sky or a tree or a bird. Many seemed to have forgotten those things had ever existed.
But today—I’d made up my mind—Tony and I were going to the beach.
I dressed carefully in my shirt and trousers, put a hat on my head and picked up a blanket for us to sit on.
I had no idea what I would find when we went outside, but I’d borrowed one of the trolleys used to cart goods around, to carry our things. Luckily the beach was close—or it had been, as far as I could remember.
“Ready, love?” I asked Tony.
It was a steep walk up to the surface, through numerous airlocks, but eventually we got there. I took a deep breath and opened the door.
The beach had come to us. Dirty white sand stretched for hundreds of metres and I could just see a glimpse of grey water in the distance. I didn’t look too hard at the ruined buildings.
A hot wind blew in our faces. I took a few steps toward the sea but my feet sank into the sand. “I think this is as far as we can go.”
I spread the blanket and sat down. At least we were outside, in the sun, in sight of the sea. Tony lay face up, and I stretched out beside him on my back.
“Here we are, love. Our last day at the beach.” Tears ran silently down my cheeks as I gripped his dead hand.
Love Spider
Evan was sitting at the bar in the World’s End, his favourite Adelaide pub, when he first saw Joey. He’d been nursing a beer and waiting for his friend Matt for nearly an hour and was just considering whether to drain his drink and call it a night, when he heard his name called.
There was Matt, pushing through the crowd toward him, followed by the most beautiful man Evan had ever seen. Evan’s eyes skipped over Matt as if he didn’t exist, focussing instead on the silky, blond hair that was falling into bright blue eyes, the delicate features and those lips already curving into a smile.
Evan realised Matt was speaking to him.
“Hi Evan, sorry I’m late! Joey decided he wanted to come along at the last minute. He takes forever to get ready.” To Evan’s amazement, Matt actually looked a bit annoyed. How could anyone be annoyed with this gorgeous man?
“But you have to admit, Mr Grumpy, it’s worth it.” Joey dug a teasing elbow into Matt’s side and smiled at Evan.
Evan smiled back. “Hi. I’m Evan. How do you two know each other?” he asked Matt, unaware he was holding his breath for the answer. Just friends, please God, let them just be friends.
“Joey’s a friend of Damon. Remember Damon White? Angie’s friend? I ran into them both at a party a couple of months ago. Joey and I have been seeing each other since.”
Evan’s heart fell straight into his shoes.
“Off and on,” said Joey, “We haven’t moved in together or anything. I’m too young to settle down,” he laughed.
Evan saw Matt tighten his lips, and frowned slightly. What was wrong with Matt? Couldn’t he see Joey was just teasing him?
Joey put an arm around Matt’s waist and gave a playful squeeze. Then he smiled at Evan again and flicked the hair out of his eyes. “So who’s going to buy me a drink? I rather fancy a Mango Daiquiri tonight.”
; “I’ll get it,” said Evan quickly. “What would you like, Matt?”
Pedipalps
Joey fancied Evan from the moment he saw him. True, he wasn’t as tall and handsome as Matt—Evan was only just taller than Joey himself, with rather ordinary brown hair and hazel eyes—but he had a sweetness of expression. A kindness, that called to him. That told him, that—maybe—this man was the one.
And, to be honest, Matt had been starting to get on his nerves, even before Joey’d met Evan. He was always criticising something Joey had done or hadn’t done. Not that long ago, it seemed Matt couldn’t get enough of him—but lately, where were the dinners for two? The romantic nights, cuddled up together on the sofa watching a movie? Now Matt seemed more interested in going out with his friends, than spending time with Joey.
Less than a month later, Joey broke up with Matt and began seeing Evan.
“Hullo, lover. I’ve got the new version of ‘The Matrix’ out on DVD, all three episodes,” said Joey. “I thought you might like to come over tonight and watch them with me.” He smiled as he spoke into the phone, glancing over at the bottle of expensive Barossa cabernet he had just bought and placed on the kitchen counter.
There was a small pause. “Oh dear, I’d love to, baby, but not tonight. Tonight’s the night I’m catching up with Angie and Julia, remember? They’ve invited me to dinner. Angie’s cooking vindaloo,” Evan added.
“Oh. Right.”
“I’d invite you to come with me,” Evan said, untruthfully, knowing that his lover and Angie didn’t get on well at the best of times, “but I know how you hate anything too spicy. Can we make it tomorrow night instead?”
“They’re over-nighters,” said Joey, in flat tones.
There was another pause on Evan’s end of the phone and Joey took a breath and changed tack. “Never mind!” he said quickly, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get them out again another time. I’d forgotten you were going out tonight.”
“Are you sure, baby?” asked Evan anxiously. He hated upsetting Joey. “It’s just that this has been arranged for quite awhile. I know they’re looking forward to seeing me.”
“Of course. You go out and have fun.”
For a brief moment, Evan considered cancelling the dinner but he knew Angie would have gone to a lot of trouble. He hadn’t seen much of her or Julia recently, and he was looking forward to a home-cooked meal and finding out what his friends had been up to.
“All right then. I’ll see you later.” He’d go out tonight, and make amends with Joey tomorrow, Evan decided. Surprise him with a box of their favourite chocolates.
But when he turned up with the box of chocolates, Joey opened the door with his arm in a sling.
“Oh my God, baby. What happened?” Evan was horrified.
“It’s nothing, I just sprained my wrist,” explained Joey, ushering Evan inside. “Would you believe, I tripped over the damn cat? I put my hands out to break the fall and ended up like this.”
“When did it happen?” asked Evan.
“Last night. I was on my way to the bathroom when Snuggles shot right between my feet!” The large fluffy grey and white cat ensconced in a nearby chair, blinked at the sound of his name, then went back to sleep when he saw no-one was paying him any attention.
“Last night? But why didn’t you call me?”
“I knew you were out with Angie. I didn’t want to spoil your evening.”
“But baby, you should have called me. You’re more important than a silly dinner,” said Evan. He felt terribly guilty that he’d been out enjoying himself while Joey had an accident. “How did you get to the hospital?”
“I called an ambulance,” said Joey. “It hurt so much I thought I’d broken my wrist—but it was only a sprain.” He smiled bravely.
“An ambulance?” Evan wrapped his arms around him, tears starting to form as he pictured Joey frightened and in pain.
“You should have called me,” he repeated. “Now, you’re going to sit down with your feet up, while we watch those DVDs. Don’t worry, I’ll pay the late fee,” Evan said firmly, surreptitiously wiping his eyes. “What would you like to drink? Can you have a glass of wine or are you on painkillers?”
“I’m sure one glass wouldn’t hurt me,” said Joey, snuggling into the sofa cushions. “Open that bottle there—I bought it for you.”
“You spoil me—you know that?” said Evan as he saw the expensive bottle of cabernet on the kitchen counter. He opened the bottle and poured two generous glasses. “I almost forgot. I brought you some chocolates. Let’s have them now, shall we?”
He sat down next to Joey and put an arm round his shoulders, the chocolates on his lap. “Now, let’s watch that DVD.”
Joey sighed happily, his wrist hardly hurt at all now. His favourite chocolates, a lovely bottle of wine, Evan sitting next to him where he belonged—just the two of them. He loved Evan so much—he was never going to let him go.
Cephalothorax
Looking back afterwards, Joey could remember the exact moment he made the decision that changed the world. He and Evan had been walking along the Esplanade at Semaphore, on their way to lunch at The Beachside Cafe, when they had been attracted by one of the many shop windows. The name of the shop “Myths and Legends,” was printed in flowing letters above a display of model dragons, Japanese demons and other, more unusual creatures that neither of them could identify.
“Let’s go in and have a look,” said Joey. “Maybe they have some manga.”
Evan followed him inside with an indulgent smile.
“It’s odd. I must have passed this way a dozen times before but I don’t remember ever seeing this shop. It must be new,” murmured Evan to himself, browsing through some of the books on display while Joey searched through the figurines.
“Look at this one, Evan. Who would ever want one in their house?” said Joey, pointing to a figurine which was half spider, half woman. The face and body were that of a Japanese woman in traditional costume, but she had eight black spider legs. “It’s enough to give you nightmares!” He shuddered. “I hate spiders!”
“Jorogumo,” said a soft voice from behind. “Literally ‘whore spider’ or ‘binding bride’ depending on your translation. In some legends she traps men and binds them to her forever—in others, she eats them. The same thing in a way, I suppose.” The woman who had spoken was dressed in white flowing robes, in keeping with the theme of the shop. For a moment Joey had a weird impression that her eyes were silver, but when he blinked they were just brown.
“Can I show you anything in particular? Or are you just browsing?”
“Do you have any manga?” Joey asked.
“I have some out the back, just go through that black curtain.”
And it was as simple as that.
When Joey came out a few minutes later, with a couple of colourful Pokemon figurines in his hands, he came out into a different world.
He didn’t realise what had happened at first. Evan was there, where he had left him, browsing through a thick book full of illustrations, and the shop owner was there, still wearing white robes, but this time—her eyes were definitely silver.
“That’ll be twenty dollars, sir,” she said, looking at the figurines.
“Here you go. Great contacts, by the way,” said Joey as he passed over the money. The shop owner smiled.
Joey got the next inkling that something had changed, when he and Evan left the shop. A centaur was walking down the street, his four hooves ringing on the pavement, long tail swishing from side to side. He wore a leather vest on his human torso.
“That is the most brilliant costume I’ve ever seen!” breathed Joey, his eyes wide with wonder. “How the hell do they do it?
“What do you mean?” asked Evan. “And don’t stare. It’s rude. You know how sensitive centaurs are.”
Joey looked blankly at him. “What on Earth are you talking about, Evan?”
“Centaurs,” said Evan with a touch of impatience. “They a
lways think people are staring at their genitals. As if! Anyway, let’s get a move on or we’ll be late for lunch.”
Joey walked on in bewildered silence. Was he dreaming? Surreptitiously he gave himself a pinch on the inside of his arm. Ouch! Nope, he wasn’t dreaming, unless he was dreaming that he was dreaming...
By the time they reached the cafe, Joey had managed to put it behind him. The whole thing must have been some sort of joke, or maybe something for one of those reality TV programs. It couldn’t possibly have been a real centaur, haha!
He sat down happily at one of the little tables on the decking and looked at the menu. He chose a bruschetta with tomato and fresh basil then leant back to look at the view. The white sand was dazzling in the sun and the sea was a sparkling blue. Several people were flying those huge 3D kites. They were so realistic—it looked just as if dragons were flying out over the sea, dragons and—my god! Was that a griffin? Cool.
He continued to stare at the kites. How did their handlers manage to control them? he wondered, suddenly uneasy. As hard as he looked, he couldn’t see any strings.
It was rather frightening, thought Joey, how easy it was to forget that there had ever been another world. Apart from the presence of once-mythical creatures, everything else was the same. The people were the same, the countries, the governments—more or less. He still hadn’t quite gotten used to seeing a Bunyip as the Prime Minister of Australia, but he hadn’t voted for him anyway.
Of all the people he knew—including Evan—he was the only one who seemed to remember things had ever been different.
Though sometimes he wondered if Evan’s friend Angie might remember, too. He’d never forget the look on her face when the four of them went to the beach, on their one and only outing together, and Julia turned into a mermaid as soon as she hit the water. He couldn’t help smiling at the memory. Ha! That would teach Angie to interfere between him and Evan, always trying to separate them, to get Evan to do things without him.