by Waiting for the Machines to Fall Asleep- The Best New Science Fiction from Sweden (retail) (epub)
The place is completely free of odors. The faint haze feels slightly oil-smooth on the palate but has no flavor.
It takes about a minute, and then the first apparitions appear. Literally appear, straight out of nowhere; from being invisible they suddenly fade into view, take shape right in front of their eyes. Adults, children and occasionally animals appear for a shorter or longer moment before they fade back into nothing. The visible apparitions roam aimlessly by themselves, never together, and they don't seem to notice the two men or each other. Even in their most solid state they are still slightly transparent and shine with a subdued glow in different colors, as if they had lanterns inside their chests.
Kirkegaard comes up to Lucas and talks in a low voice. "You know where we are, huh?"
"In Annelise's pre-conscious."
"Exactly. The people we see are Annelise's conscious – the people that the girl is actively thinking about. They fade away when she stops thinking about them."
"And the lights inside them?"
"The warmer the light, the warmer feelings Annelise has for that person."
Lucas recognizes one of them: Annelise's mother. She looks just like she did when she sat in the visiting part of the operating room. But her expression is calmer here, it doesn't reflect the concerns she clearly felt in the real world. She is faintly transparent, and her figure is lit from inside with a warm golden tone.
"That's the memory of her mother, right?"
"Yes and no. In a way, you could call it a cache memory, but it is correct to say that she is a part of the girls conscious. The warm color indicates that the girl has great love for her mother."
The mother fades away.
Lucas looks around at the glowing apparitions. It is like strolling around in a big, misty square on a summer day and to see other people appear and disappear in the fog. Everything is very harmonic and tranquil and doesn't at all reflect the traumatic state the girl must be in.
"Where are we going?" asks Lucas.
"To find a door."
"The door that leads to the girl's sub-conscious?"
"Exactly. Come on."
They cruise between fading apparitions. Lucas wonders what would happen if he touched any of them.
Then Kirkegaard stops. "That's strange."
In front of them is the shining ghost figure of a man. The light he spreads is warmly yellow – obviously love.
"Someone she likes?" asks Lucas.
Kirkegaard picks out a photography of his overall pocket. "Look here." he says.
Lucas sees that the man in the photo and the ghost figure is the same.
"Who is it?"
"Her uncle. The man accused of abusing her. He shouldn't be seen out here in her conscious. And certainly not have such a loving aura."
Lucas and Kirkegaard look at the figure passing right in front of them.
"Could she have two different impression of him?" Lucas asks. "A good one seen out here and a hidden bad one?"
Kirkegaard considers this. "I've never heard of it. However, the brain is an inscrutable place. We might have discovered something unknown."
Lucas looks at the doctor. "Maybe you'll be giving name to a new theory?"
"Maybe. It happens from time to time."
They watch Annelise's uncle till he fades away and is gone. Then they start walking. Lucas looks around. Thinks he sees outlines in the mist that he did not discern before; his perception has increased. Maybe he has a future in this profession. He just has to do this first job as well as he can, then the rest will follow.
"Hey, Kirkegaard," he says. "What was that thing Christine mentioned earlier? Some factor?"
Kirkegaard glances at him. "You mean the Damien Factor?"
"That's the one."
Kirkegaard is silent for a while.
"It was nothing really," he says. "A work accident."
"Were you involved?"
"No." Kirkegaard shakes his head. "It was seven years ago. Happened to a colleague of mine. Former colleague. PSIscanning had only been in practice for a couple of years. It was before they found out that there has to be two people doing a scan."
Kirkegaard stops and stares into the mist for a moment, then shakes his head. Lucas watches the glowing figures around them. No one sees them – it's as if the two men are invisible. They continue walking.
"A boy had been referred to the clinic," says Kirkegaard. "I don't remember his condition. Like Annelise he was unconscious when he came in. A PSIchologist, my colleague, got the assignment to him. That's all anyone knows – as the man went in by himself, the information about what happened next is limited and not very reliable."
The doctor falls silent. He looks around, beyond the apparitions, searching for the target door.
"What happened?" Lucas finally asks.
"Huh? Yes. Somewhere inside the labyrinth of the boy's mind, the PSIchologist encountered something."
"Something what?"
"Evil. Something purely evil. A primordial evil force, lying in wait deep in the darkest recesses of the mind. Or that's what they say. It attacked the PSIchologist. What it was, or how the man managed to find his way back, we don't know – he slit his own throat the moment he stepped out of the PSIscanner. The boy never woke up, and we never got to know what his trauma was."
Lucas absentmindedly watches the few apparitions in the mist around him. They shine with a colder blue light. "The boy's name was Damien?" he asks.
Kirkegaard nods grimly. "As I said: no one knows for certain. The doctor may as well have been an unstable person who snapped. You know, I wouldn't have told you if Christine hadn't brought it up. What we are doing here is science. Fairytales have no place here."
Lucas is about to say something when suddenly a large dog materializes in front of them. It looks around with jerky movements and barks with drooling mouth and sharp teeth. The barks come rolling from the deep of the dog's throat in hard blasts, but not like the echoing thunder claps of the police dogs Lucas are used to from work – no, they figuratively fall to the ground like stones. Lucas understands why they have made the PSIscanner rooms so sound proof – the sound dampening atmosphere here is very unpleasant. Lucas backs off a few steps, but Kirkegaard remains.
"It can't harm us," he says. "Dogs are often found in people's sub-conscious as untreated phobias. But Annelise does not seem to have any traumatic experience of this animal, as it's here inside her conscious."
"It must've been a terrible experience for a small child to meet a monster like that!"
"She probably met it in a controlled situation. But I do believe we are close to our goal. Scary parts of the conscious usually dwell near the door to the sub-conscious."
They stop and shade their eyes with their hands.
Lucas sees it first. The door. It is colorless and does not consist of anything but a rectangle. But in the undefined shape of the mist its lines and corners are as clear as lines drawn in the sand of an untouched beach.
They approach the door. Lucas tries to get his fingertips into one of the joints, when Kirkegaard stops him.
"Lucas. Before we go any further: we know nothing about what we will face in there. We might see terrible images. But you must remember that nothing we meet will be able to harm us."
"Okay."
The doctor's voice has a slight tremor. It could be fear, if it wasn't for his gaze being so clear, almost enthusiastic.
"We will be entering little Annelise's sub-conscious and work our way through a labyrinth that has no map, since all sub-conscious content is unique. We'll find the answers to her trauma. Once we've done that we will immediately turn and go back. The place may seem scary, but it cannot hurt us because we will not see our own images, but Annelise's. Do you understand?"
Lucas nods, then gets his fingertips into a crevice and pulls the door open.
Annelise's sub-conscious is a dark and immense place. Labyrinths usually are.
Kirkegaard and Lucas stand like two crouching white ma
nnequins in a passageway that's about a meter wide and which disappears in both directions with slight curves and no ends. There's no ceiling above them; the walls disappear into a vast darkness that Lucas finds almost physical. If he reached up, maybe he would feel it against his skin.
Kirkegaard produces a new lamp that he puts on the ground and stomps on. It immediately begins to pulse with the same brief flashes as the one at the starting point of the pre-conscious. Lucas looks around.
"Which way?"
"The sub-conscious is shaped like a Trojaborg labyrinth," says Kirkegaard. "There are no crossroads, it just winds around itself in coils that first gets wider and then narrower and narrower the closer it gets to the center." He looks both ways while he adjusts the bag on his back. Then he starts walking to the right. "Stay close behind me."
"Okay."
"And keep that ready." He nods at the stunslinger at Lucas's arm.
Lucas estimates that they have walked for almost fifteen minutes when Kirkegaard signals for a halt.
The passage they are standing in looks very similar to the place where they started from, except that it curves in another direction. It is claustrophobic and bleak and colorless, and there's no smell or flavor to the air.
"Something's fishy," says the doctor, absentmindedly rubbing his lips. "We have not come across a single repression."
"Repression?"
"A buried image. We have not seen anything that Annelise has displaced to her sub-conscious."
"Should we have?"
"Yes. The girl is unconscious, that means that the activity in here is significantly lower than when she is awake. It was noticeable in the pre-conscious too. But like there, we should at least have encountered something."
Lucas nods. Pondering the basic psychology he learned at the police academy, the sub-conscious should be quite populated. He doesn't know how populated, but everybody has their fair share of things they don't want or have the strength to remember.
Kirkegaard leads the way deeper into the labyrinth. From walking through passages with large, subtle curves, the labyrinth now makes sharper bends and more abrupt curves that constantly turn left and right.
"We are approaching the center," Kirkegaard states. "The coils are more extreme, and it's getting darker."
The light is indeed more sparse in the deeper domains of the sub-conscious. They don't see further than a few meters forward or backward, and the darkness makes them instinctively stick closer together than before. The atmosphere is taxing for both the mind and psyche. Lucas understands Kirkegaard's reference to the unbearable loneliness: he didn't feel it before, but now it's like a black balloon has inflated in his chest – or more like an inverted balloon, full of echoing emptiness. And the lack of sound: their steps are silent, and the sound of Kirkegaard's breathing fades away before it reaches Lucas's ears. He cannot hear his own heartbeat or blood flow inside the head, like he usually would in such oppressive silence. It's as if he no longer exists, except for the empty shell of his body that mechanically moves forward.
"Lucas. Look!"
Beyond the next curve, the darkness seems dispelled by a faint light, but they cannot detect its source.
"You want me to go first?" Lucas asks.
Kirkegaard holds him back. "No. I'll go first. We don't know what it is."
They take the curve slowly, one hesitant step at a time. Then they see it: a small body of water, or rather a puddle, on the labyrinth floor. Stretching from wall to wall, about a meter wide. The puddle shines. Or it seems to shine from out of it, emitting the light.
"What is that?" Lucas asks.
"Don't know. Looks like water. A repression anyhow. Do you see what's wrong with it?"
Lucas shakes his head.
"It doesn't reflect the wall behind. The only thing we see is what's inside the puddle."
"Could it be a hole?"
"Maybe. But a hole that leads to where?"
To that Lucas has no answer.
When they are two meters from the puddle they note that it is completely symmetrical, with a perfect oval shape.
And it has a pink frame.
Lucas has witnessed horrible things in his life, but never anything that filled him with such a terrifying emptiness.
A feeling overwhelms him. An ice-cold pulsing helplessness as if his soul released all moorings and floated into space with no way back home. Lucas just wants to turn and run. Run as fast as he can, climb out of the labyrinth, and then keep running past all the glowing apparitions toward the flashing light and the exit of Annelise's psyche. But he cannot do that. He needs the job. And he's never been a quitter, one who leaves the ship when it gets windy. He's always stood up for what's right. Never let his soul become corrupt. It's all about keeping it steady. Not run. Keep steady.
It's like Kirkegaard feels Lucas's doubts because he turns and takes Lucas's hand and squeezes it hard. It makes Lucas stay.
They go closer to the puddle, hand in hand. Closer. Until they are so close that they can see that it's not a puddle.
It's the surface of a mirror. The leaking light comes from a lamp that is not in the labyrinth but only exists on the other side of the mirror's surface. They glimpse a pink wall with painted white clouds. On the wall a coat hanger with small clothes in white and pink, probably belonging to a girl.
"It looks like the wall of a nursery," Kirkegaard says and wipes his fingers over his glasses to rub out a stain.
"Why a mirror image of a nursery?" asks Lucas.
"It's the image of a repressed memory. Annelise must have looked in a mirror. And because the mirror image is here, in her sub-conscious, it must contain something that she for some reason repressed."
"But what is it?"
"Can't see. Must get closer."
Kirkegaard takes another step. Lucas follows.
If only there was any sound or smell or anything that could dilute the impressions he now takes in. But there is nothing besides the visuals. Lucas gets closer, and now he sees human skin. And that the skin is a person's leg. The scary stuff Lucas has seen before has always been accompanied by sirens and dogs barking and people screaming.
Here is only cold, dark, oppressive silence, like in the deepest trench of the ocean.
What Kirkegaard and Lucas see in the mirror – what Annelise also must have seen, as everything in her sub-conscious is based on her own visual stimuli – is the image of five-year old Annelise's exposed genitalia.
The two men see Annelise's small hands appear in the mirror, holding a wine bottle.
They see how Annelise places the bottle neck at the opening of her vagina, and then how her hands, with a sudden thrust, forces the bottle inside, stretching and tearing the sensitive tissue. When the two men understand what they see, they turn away in panic and disgust, unable to stand the sight of it.
They stand facing away, refusing to look each other in the eyes, too ashamed for watching the self-harming act for as long as they did.
"God damn it!" Lucas mutters, eyes tightly shut. "What kind of sick shit is this?"
"One cannot turn away from the horror. You have to face it with open eyes to fight it. But this ..." Kirkegaard shakes his head weakly.
"So she did do it to herself?"
"The sub-conscious doesn't lie," says Kirkegaard. "Now we know: her uncle was telling the truth, he is innocent. And I now understand why we have not seen other repressed images in here; this horrible repression has wiped out all other images."
Lucas gestures towards the mirror without looking at it.
"But how is that possible? You said she couldn't have made it without fainting from pain."
Kirkegaard straightens up with a thoughtful look, still turned away. "Her hand obviously did it. But was it her own will? Or could it have been something else that compelled her?"
Lucas looks at the old doctor. "Something else? What could have made a little girl to do such a thing to herself?"
"Another will. Another conscious. Something ins
ide her that manipulated her like a puppet."
"But why?"
Kirkegaard looks at Lucas. "That, my friend, I do not know yet. But, if we continue further into the labyrinth, we are likely to find the answer."
They get past the mirror without looking into it. A narrow curve later, the light from inside the mirror is dampened, and after the next curve the place is as dark as before. Or even darker – their eyes miss the light from the mirror, even though they wish that they could forget its contents.
"Can't we use a flashlight?" asks Lucas. He keeps one hand on Kirkegaard's shoulder to keep up with him in the massive darkness.
"No. One should not risk illuminating particular things in the sub-conscious. It can lead to severe consequences for the host mind. I'll tell you about it later when we ..." Kirkegaard stops so abruptly that Lucas bumps into his back. For a few seconds Kirkegaard says nothing.
"What is it?" Lucas finally whispers, unwilling to break the compact silence around them.
"I don't know."
Lucas peers into the darkness. He can see the walls to the right and left of them disappear into the darkness in sharp turns. After the mirror, he is prepared for anything. But at the same time he wants Kirkegaard to say that there is nothing in the dark. That they have completed their mission. They got their answer. They know that the uncle didn't do it. They can both testify to that. Surely, it ought to be enough to call this mission a success?
Then he feels it too. What Kirkegaard must have reacted to.
Not seeing, as everything is dark.
Not hearing, as everything is silent.
Not tasting or smelling, as this damned place lacks all characteristics.
Feeling. A presence of something just ahead of them.
Kirkegaard takes a step back so that he comes close to Lucas.
"The id ..." he whispers.
Lucas leans close to the doctor's ear. "Have we reached the center?"
Kirkegaard gives a small nod. Then he starts walking, slowly, one tiny step at a time, into the dark.
Lucas hesitates. It's not funny anymore. When they get out of here he'll resign. There are other jobs, this is not worth it. He's been afraid before. At the force, there were times he feared for his life. But that feeling was not nearly as draining as what he feels right now. There's a vacuum within him that sucks all the strength out of him. Could this be the loneliness that Kirkegaard talked about? Was this how he felt, the one who went insane, just before all the fuses blew in his head?