by Matt Doyle
“She thinks you’re going to eat her,” I chuckle.
“I do not,” Lana blurts out, her voice surprisingly high and embarrassed.
Carnival being Carnival, responds to this by shooting Lana a big toothy grin, causing her to recoil again and press herself hard into her sofa, her eyes wide and face going very pale, very quickly. Having had her fun, Carnival rolls her eyes and makes a noise akin to blowing a raspberry, then goes back to her beer while I wander over to sit next to her.
“So, Lana,” I say, seating myself back in my normal cross-legged position, “This is Carnival. Carnival, Lana.”
Lana remains quiet, raising her bottle slowly at first, then taking a quick swig, all the time keeping her eyes on Carnival. In response, Carnival directs a short, annoyed growl at me.
“I know,” I reply with a smile, “Rude, right? C’mon Lana, you were far chattier a moment ago.”
“A moment ago,” she replies, frustration hanging on every word, “I wasn’t sat opposite a …”
Carnival cuts her off with a low warning growl.
“Yeah,” I say, drawing the word out. “You may wanna be careful how you describe her. You wouldn’t want to get her all angry.”
We leave it long enough for Lana to start looking panicky again before we start laughing. Well, I say laugh, but in Carnival’s case it’s really more of a happy rarfing noise. It’s kinda sweet in its own way.
We stop once Lana starts glaring.
“Seriously though,” I say, calming myself, “don’t get her angry. You’ll be fine, but it’s me that’ll get it in the ear.”
Carnival quickly finishes her beer and points at me, bottle still in hand. She starts to reply to my accusation, but stops herself, thinks about it, then nods with a resigned grunt and grabs another bottle instead.
“See?”
Lana takes another mouthful of beer, her gaze darting back and forth between Carnival and myself. I laugh. ”Oh relax, I meant what I said. I just wanna talk some more and let you see Carnival for yourself.”
Lana studies me for a moment, then turns her attention to Carnival, attempting to pull some strength into her eyes as she asks, “You heard everything we said, didn’t you? Before you arrived I mean.”
Carnival responds with a nod. She appears to have made herself at home by lounging across her half of the sofa in a wonderfully uncomfortable looking position. Actually, is it uncomfortable looking or is that just because of the angle I’m sitting at? It does look a little like she’s playing a layabout tele-addict on a vintage sitcom. Now, would they pick a comfy position because comfort is important for a long TV session, or would they just pick a position then refuse to move regardless of comfort because they’re too lazy to do anything other than lounge in front of the screen? Either way, Lana’s reactions are pretty entertaining. I just wish Carnival had seen how different she was before her arrival.
Lana blinks a couple of times, then asks, “So you know that we want to take you back to Emblem with us? And that we want to analyse your data?” Carnival responds with a smile that makes it pretty clear that she’s looking forward to Lana trying more than Lana is, and Lana in turn tenses up again, her shoulders going tight as she grips her knees hard. I still think she’s been silly. Carnival wouldn’t really hurt her. Or I doubt she would anyway. But then, we’ve not been in this situation before, so who knows? I’m pretty sure it’s at the very least unlikely though. Probably. Unless she’s really pushed. Maybe.
Even if she wouldn’t hurt her though, Carnival is definitely having fun torturing poor Lana. I suppose she did miss out on a lot of chat room and message board assaults today. This’ll be her way of making up for it and taking revenge on those responsible for ruining her fun.
“So,” I say, intentionally drawing out the word and so drawing Lana’s attention as a result. Let’s see if we can get this back on track a little shall we? “What’s the deal with Mr Serious?” Lana screws her eyes up a little, confusion creeping across her face. Maybe I miscalled this one. Carnival’s proving far too much for her so far. “Finn,” I add by way of clarification.
“Finn?” she repeats as a question. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” I reply, sitting back again and crossing my arms behind my head, accidentally sploshing beer down my back, but continuing as though I meant to do it in spite of Carnivals less-than-subtle giggling. “He’s obviously fooled most people into thinking he’s human, but he’s not exactly nailing the whole emotional spectrum side of things, is he?”
“There are plenty of serious people in the world John,” she says, her voice finally beginning to lose the shakiness as we move back into familiar territory for her. “Not everyone’s like you.”
“True enough. What I mean though is Meera’s like the complete opposite to him. She’s a walking, talking, ball of emotion. I was just curious why they’re so far apart like that is all.”
Lana drops her eyes to the side for a moment, her forehead wrinkling as she considers her answer. That’s a good sign. If I can get her back to how she was before Carnival arrived, we’ll be more likely to make some headway. If Finn were still here, he’d keep her too grounded in hard fact, but brining him up in conversation should help relax her a little.
“As far as the actual project goes,” she says at last, “the sky’s the limit with what we could potentially do with different personalities. The early models were designed to test out a handful of particular traits and thinking patterns. We kept each one fairly pure in that respect, the focus being on developing one thing at a time. The current models like Finn and Meera are a bit better-rounded, but they still have …” She pauses and looks over to Carnival for a moment. For her part, Carnival returns the curious stare in equal measure, adding a bonus tilt of the head while she opens another bottle.
“Sorry,” Lana says, visibly shaking herself out of her trance and moving her gaze back and forth between Carnival and myself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. Each SSF has a personality that benefits their purpose for existence. With Finn, I designed him the way he is because he suits his role that way. In the same way, Meera was programmed like she is because that’s what Hong Chan wanted. I’m just,” she continues, turning back to Carnival alone now, “trying to figure out if Robert had a purpose in mind for you and programmed you to act like you do as a result of that, or if he actually did succeed in creating something more than a tool with you.”
Good. She’s accepted the direct possibility that Carnival is alive. “Wait,” Lana cuts in across my thoughts. “You’re … her tail …” Oops, she caught me looking. Ah well, no sense in lying about it now. Especially as Carnival has just rolled herself over so that her shoulders are on the seat and her tail is clearly on show up by the head section of the sofa, swishing happily as she treats me a throaty grunt that clearly translates to ‘idiot’, or something similar. In fairness, it’s not entirely my fault, but I’ll let her have her fun.
“Whoops,” I say, throwing my hands up in surrender and drawing Lana’s attention back to me. “You got us. Carnival’s pretty good at telling whether or not people are lying and the way she flicks her tail lets me know whether she thinks you are or not. Since you’ve finally started talking, I thought I should probably check whether you’re being honest with us.”
“Is that why you got her to come over here?”
“That’s part of it,” I concede. Lana meanwhile clearly isn’t sure how to react to that. She’s probably trying to weigh up her options right now. Not being a meticulously programmed piece of software like Finn McCourt, she’s not quite as quick off the mark with the whole cold logic thing. Time to take a risk. “I tell you what,” I say, reaching out to offer Finn’s card. “I was gonna keep hold of this until we left, but seeing as you caught us being sneaky, you can have it back now. If you want, you can even switch him back on and even the odds a bit. Can’t say fairer than that.”
Lana takes the card and turns it over in her hands a few times. What will she do
I wonder? She could cry foul and call an end to our meeting all together but I doubt that she’ll see that as her best option. She’d miss out on the opportunity to get something out of us that way. Turning Finn back on is definitely a possibility, but she knows that we wanted to do this without him interrupting. If she’s figured out that his single minded more-than-a-little rigid viewpoint would prevent any real progression then she won’t go for that. Nah, Lana’s cool, she’ll probably just let it slide.
The silence is broken briefly by Carnival stretching and yawning. She’s getting bored. And she’s still upside down. It’s a good job she doesn’t have blood to rush to her head. Lana looks up at her, or down at her I suppose, and comes to her decision. “Finn is near faultless when it comes to his job, but this isn’t something he’d be much help with. He can stay off for now.”
Carnival grunts loudly again and both Lana and I smile. She’s just discovered that the combination of her muzzle and her current topsy-turvy position are excellent at preventing her from drinking her beer without drenching herself.
“I didn’t expect you to do something like that,” Lana says, turning to me. “With her tail I mean. For some reason I didn’t peg you as being quite so sneaky.”
“Guilty as charged,” I say, stretching my legs out and crossing my feet. “I’m great to watch but an absolute nightmare to live with.”
Carnival gives a soggy nod and a grunt of agreement. “Cheeky,” I say, turning towards her, “Careful, or I’ll confiscate your beer.” She responds by turning the now empty bottle upside down and shaking it a few times while making her raspberry noise. I can’t help but laugh at how funny the whole thing looks with her upside down. Another yawn and stretch, and she scoots back over again, giving the gap between her ears a quick scratch while I turn back to Lana and ask, “You said before that Meera doesn’t know what she is. Why is that?”
“You don’t need to know that. Like I said John, Meera doesn’t know about Carnival, and she won’t get involved with her in any way unless you meet in the tournament. She was part of the deal to get Hong Chan here, nothing more. You can check with Carnival if you think I’m lying.”
I look over to Carnival and she flicks her tail to say that, yes, Lana is telling the truth.
“Look,” Lana continues, “You made it pretty clear before that you aren’t going to just let us take Carnival away. You also said that using her to find out if I’m telling the truth or not was part of the reason you brought her here. Given that you haven’t made any attempt to negotiate, I’m guessing that wasn’t the other part. Which means that you wanted to see if you could convince me that she’s alive, didn’t you?”
“Almost,” I say, getting to my feet and cracking my neck. “I didn’t think I’d convince you in one night, not once I got speaking with you anyway. Before I got here I’d hoped that I could, but I realised pretty quickly that the way you think is different to me. This was more … it was kinda an experiment to see if I had any shot of convincing you before the end of the tournament.”
Carnival pushes herself to her feet and trots over to my side with a content huff.
“Well,” I say with a yawn, “I’m getting pretty tired, so I guess we’ll head back to our room.”
Lana nods and walks us to the door. Nope, it’s no good. I’m gonna have to ask. “Hey,” I say, turning back to her, “How’d we do in the end? I’m pretty sure you haven’t made your mind up yet, but as it stands, do you think she’s alive?”
Lana pauses, then turns to Carnival and looks her up and down before settling her gaze on her face, locking eyes with her. Carnival cocks her head at her and raises a curious eyebrow. She’s not as interested in Lana’s view as I am, but she’ll happily wait for an answer.
Finally, Lana sighs and says, “I don’t know.”
I smile and say, “Good night, Lana,” then open the door and walk through into the hall while Carnival gives her a quick wave and grunt before dashing to catch up. I wait for the click of the door shutting before saying, “Ya know, this could get pretty dangerous. If you want us to duck out, then that’s cool. They can probably trace us again easy enough, but there’s no harm in getting a head start.”
Quick as a flash, Carnival leaps out in front of me, blocking the path. She stands there scowling, her arms crossed and nostrils flaring as she makes a series of short, annoyed growls before sniffing loudly and giving me a big, toothy grin.
That’s one of the great things about Carnival. I really don’t need to understand the words to get what she means.
I return the smile with a giggle, and say, “OK, OK, we’ll stay,” then offer my hand with an exaggerated bow. “Shall we?”
With a content huff and a flick of her ears, Carnival places her hand in mine and we start the walk back to our room, her tail swishing happily against the back of my legs.
LANA DE LA CRUZ - 23:58
Knock-knock-knock-knock.
I roll over and wait for the numbers on the digital clock to stop blurring before deciding that I must have been dreaming. Two minutes to midnight is far too late for an actual visitor.
Knock-knock-knock-knock.
Or not. It’s probably some drunk coming back from one of the clubs. They’ll realise they’ve got the wrong room soon. Failing that, if I ignore them, they’ll get bored and move on.
Knock-knock-knock-knock.
Or not. This really isn’t my night, is it? Fine.
“I should have left Finn on overnight,” I grumble as I kick my legs out of the bed and grab my dressing gown. “Then I wouldn’t have to deal with my suckish ‘just-woken-up’ co-ordination.”
Knock-knock-knock-knock.
‘All things considered Miss De La Cruz, given the hour and the nature of your awakening, you are far more mobile and together than most people,’ that’s what he’d say. See? I’m such a genius I can do his job for him in my sleep. Well, when I’m half-asleep anyway.
Knock-knock-knock-knock.
”I’m coming, I’m coming,” I say a little louder as I reach the door and finish tying the cord. I switch the light on and squint through the peep hole, but it’s far too dark to make out anything other than a shadowy figure with their back to the door.
Hang on a minute. That hair. That jacket.
“John?” I ask, unlocking the door and pulling it open. “What are …?”
I realise my mistake a millisecond too late. Carnival’s hands clamp over my mouth and shoulder as she forces me back, pushing the door shut behind her with her foot as she silently moves me back towards the sofa. In the dark of the corridor, her hair looked a similar length to John’s and the shadows hid the colour. Aren’t her markings meant to glow though? And her ears … she must have tucked them around the front and turned her back to the door when she heard me coming. Wearing his jacket was a nice touch too.
Damn.
In desperation, I kick out and connect with her leg, getting a light grunt in response. Even with the sudden adrenaline burst though I’m not strong enough to cause any damage. It only occurs me to me that she doesn’t really have legs in the same way as me after she’s already tripped me to the floor and pinned my shoulders down with her knees. I try to cry out against her simulated fur and Carnival tightens her grip on my mouth. Keeping her eyes on me, she moves her other hand inside the jacket and pulls something out, but I can’t turn my head to see what it is. She drops it to the floor and taps it a couple of times, letting out a frustrated huff before turning to look at whatever it is. A few more taps. Glass maybe? It sounds like glass. What the Hell is she up to? I thought John said she wouldn’t do anything to me?
Maybe he didn’t know she had this side to her outside the Battle Zone? Think Lana. Think. How are you going to get out of this?
I can feel my eyes go wide as I see Carnival lift her arm, the thing from the floor glowing as she moves it across in front of my face. I guess that’s it. I’m done.
I close my eyes and wait.
She growls.
> I close my eyes tighter.
She growls again, shaking my head lightly with the hand covering my mouth.
Slowly, I open my eyes and look up.
Carnival looks calm. There’s no aggression in her eyes at all. And she’s not holding a weapon, she’s holding a tablet, the screen illuminated to show four words.
‘WE NEED TO TALK’
END
AFTERWORD
This is not the book I set out to write. Don’t get me wrong, that’s not a bad thing. My original plan had been to write a story about a rather bleak future world, and in particular the meeting of two women: Fahrn Starchaser and Meera Thorne. The problem was, the original idea was based almost entirely on half an episode of a certain anime, and most certainly could not be stretched to a full novel.
In truth, I still think the original concept was a good one, but it was pretty clear that something needed to change if I was if I was ever going to write the sort of story that I wanted. So I set about bouncing various ideas around until something stuck, and once it did, several characters just wandered into place. Even Fahrn and Meera, now very different to their original counter-parts, decided to stick around.
This all led to roughly two years spent split between writing the book that you’ve just read and testing out multiple versions of the game featured therein. Throughout this time I was very fortunate to not only have had the support that I did, but to have had the freedom to work on the project. Without all that, Wick would never have been finished, and I thank all of those involved. Regardless of your role in the creation of this book, your help was much appreciated.