by Ubukata, Tow
–Originally, it was the Facility for Experimental Space Strategy. Now everyone just calls it Paradise. I think I can understand why. It’s a very peaceful place, after all.
Balot’s eyes opened wide. Not at what he said. Rather because he wasn’t breathing at all.
–My name’s Tweedledee, the young man said.
–Welcome to the birthplace of all forbidden technologies—Paradise. Rune-Balot. Looks like we’re brother and sister.
–Can I get you anything? Tweedledee asked. He opened a compartment in the wall, reaching in to pull out a cup.
–How about a coffee? My mouth’s sole purpose in life is now to taste things, you see…
Balot didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure if she could trust this Tweedledee, and she had no idea where she was now—couldn’t make up her mind about the place she was in.
And if she couldn’t make up her mind for herself then she wanted someone she could trust.
–Where’s the Doctor? Balot asked Tweedledee. She wasn’t so much snarcing him by interfering with the currents in the air anymore; it was more like she was thinking the words at him.
–The Doctor? Oh, you mean Dr. Easter? He seems to be busy at the moment.
–Will you let me see him?
She tried to stand, but her whole body was aching. Her muscles cried out in pain. Heat compresses were wrapped around both her wrists, with similar patches all over her body.
With a jerk, Balot thrust both legs out of the bed. There was a pair of slippers to the side of the bed, and she struggled to reach them.
–Bruises all over. But your bones seem fine at least! Something about Balot’s condition seemed to amuse Tweedledee.
–You really would be better off resting, you know. If you don’t like coffee, there are plenty of other drinks on offer—take your pick.
–I want to see the Doctor.
–What do you need him for?
–I want to speak to him. To ask him if I can trust this place—and you.
Tweedledee didn’t quite seem to understand what Balot meant.
–I can try and answer any questions you have in the meantime. But eventually he seemed to get that this wasn’t enough for Balot.
–Dr. Easter is probably working on Oeufcoque’s maintenance at the moment. It’s just that the other doctors might get a bit fussy about having outsiders in the lab.
–You said we were brother and sister?
Tweedledee thought about this for a while. He watched Balot put her slippers on.
–Ah, I get you, he said, smiling sweetly.
They left the room, and Balot’s eyes were assaulted by vivid green. They were on an open terrace.
One side of the corridor wall and ceiling was made out of glass, framed in steel. Beyond the glass was the thick green foliage of closely planted trees, and through the narrow gaps between the trees she could see that the space sloped gently downward.
Inside the thick, reinforced glass it was warm and comfortable. The sunlight beat down on Balot and Tweedledee, casting distinctive shadows.
–I wonder if everyone on the outside is like you?
–What do you mean?
–Hmm, not sure how best to put it, Tweedledee muttered in his mind, seemingly enjoying himself. He even enjoyed the sound of the slippers as they flip-flopped along the corridor.
–Like a know-it-all Eve.
–Eve?
–I wonder if Adam felt the same way when Eve gave him the forbidden fruit from the Tree of Knowledge. That he just couldn’t refuse her. Regardless of what was right or wrong.
Balot leaned in toward him.
–Who are you, exactly? And what are you doing here?
–I was born severely handicapped. I probably wouldn’t have survived childhood anyway, my parents thought, so they donated my body to research—military experiments. So I ended up in Paradise.
–Your own parents—?
–Yup, never even seen their faces, Tweedledee said, as if he didn’t have a single worry in the world.
–Oh, and by “experiments” I’m talking about experimental procedures to give me back my bodily functions. I was only able to start moving at all because I was brought here. And I’ve lived here ever since. Once every three years I’m allowed outside with the doctors in order to collect data, but it’s far more relaxing inside, to be honest.
Balot nodded. This was indeed a comforting place. There was hardly anyone around, and they were safe and sound inside their airtight glass birdcage. There were automated vacuum cleaners built into the lower parts of all the walls, and the air conditioning kept everything at a constant temperature and humidity. There wasn’t a trace of dust anywhere, and the surfaces were all gleaming.
Even though she wore slippers over her bare feet and only had a robe on, she felt no chill or any sense of discomfort. Just like when she first woke up in the former mortuary, right back at the start of the case.
This was the birthplace of all forbidden technologies—so Tweedledee told her. In other words, this was the laboratory where Oeufcoque and the Doctor were based before they went off to become Trustees in charge of Scramble 09 cases. Balot didn’t even hazard a guess as to why she might now be in such a place, but rather she asked,
–Was it the Doctor who gave you that horn on your head?
She wasn’t really thinking about what she was saying.
Tweedledee’s eyes flickered, and he shook his head.
–No. My thing here just decided to grow of its own accord, something to do with the influence of the technology used to accelerate my sensory perception.
–But the Doctor did use to work here?
–Dr. Easter is the youngest member of the team here. He’s known as the Black Sheep.
–Black Sheep?
–When it became necessary for a scapegoat to accept responsibility for the alleged war crimes, he voluntarily put himself forward as the sacrificial lamb. Well, there were a few who had to do this, but Dr. Easter was a special case.
–In what way special?
–Out of all the researchers, he was the biggest advocate of the view that their research should be turned over for the benefit of civilians. So, when the Three Magi put forward their proposal for Scramble 09, he was the first volunteer. Even though he’d go straight to prison if it failed. That’s why he’s the Black Sheep.
–Three Magi?
–The three founders of Paradise. Two of them have left, of course, so it’s just the One Wise Man at the moment.
–The two who left set up Mardock Scramble? Balot asked, thinking that the conversation was starting to take a strange turn. It wasn’t really hitting home that they were now talking about how she, ultimately, was rescued just a little while ago.
–No, one of them originated the idea of Mardock Scramble, but the other one thought of a different path and opposed the abolition of the Research Facility.
–A different path?
–She founded OctoberCorp.
Balot’s footsteps stopped abruptly.
–What’s the matter?
Tweedledee looked puzzled. Balot shook her head absentmindedly. She felt as if she’d just been told why she was killed and why she was saved all at once.
Suddenly Balot remembered what the Doctor had said right at the very start, when they first met. OctoberCorp—whose usefulness consisted of supplying a steady stream of amusement to the denizens of Mardock City—was his nemesis, against everything that he and Oeufcoque stood for.
Still, Balot had no idea what she was supposed to do with this information at the moment.
–Is Oeufcoque also known as a Black Sheep? Balot asked. She resumed walking.
–Nah, he’s the Golden Egg. All the other researchers at Paradise wanted a piece of him.
Tweedledee giggled.
–But all he wanted to do was get outside. And the researcher who founded Scramble 09 was also Oeufcoque’s inventor, you see. So no one could stop him from leaving Paradise. But everyone says they n
ever imagined in a million years he’d end up teaming up with the Black Sheep or the Rusty Gun.
He suddenly turned to Balot as if he’d just noticed her for the first time.
–The Rusty Gun is a man that you know. Dimsdale-Boiled.
Only when he spoke his name did she actually get it.
–Sounds like you’re the one who knows everything.
Balot shrugged her shoulders, bracing herself against the pain that inevitably followed.
She was beginning to relax around this young man, so intelligent and yet so innocent. The idea of conflict seemed to be an alien concept to this Tweedledee. He had the placid demeanor of someone who had never been troubled by any sort of disturbances during his upbringing—and yet he wasn’t excessively clingy or needy.
Hand on the wall, Balot moved on, dragging her whole body along with her. Her muscles were inflamed, and in particular both her wrists were swollen. Yet Tweedledee made no effort to help her or even to adjust his pace to match hers. He talked as he liked and walked as he liked. Not selfishly, exactly, for every once in a while he paused to give Balot the opportunity to catch up. He showed no sign of irritation or impatience.
He’s probably used to this, Balot thought. Tweedledee sees people in a far worse state than me on a daily basis. That was the feeling she got from him.
As she was thinking this, three people emerged from around a corner.
All were old. A man wearing a black hat, a man in an electric wheelchair, and a woman wearing sunglasses were in the midst of a lively conversation as they headed toward Balot and Tweedledee.
The man wearing the black hat was the first to notice Balot and Tweedledee, and stopped.
“Ah, Tweedledee, taking that young lady for a walk, are you?”
–Yes, I’m showing her around, Tweedledee informed them. All three of the elders had hearing aids embedded in their inner ears; Tweedledee transmitted his speech directly to the devices.
The man took his hat off and bowed to Balot. Thousands of little connector terminals were planted in his head, so many that they almost looked like a second set of hair.
“Is this young lady a new experimental candidate, Tweedledee?”
–No. She’s a client of Dr. Easter.
“Client…? From the outside world?” the man asked, puzzled. “Dr. Easter’s lab seems to have its lights on at the moment—is he back with us? Is he conducting some unauthorized experiments on his own? Without publishing an official code name?”
–Her name’s Balot. Rune-Balot.
“I’m sure that no such code name has been registered,” the man answered.
The old woman beside him was next to speak, blue eyes twinkling behind her sunglasses. “The regenerative metal fibers seem to suit her very well. Beautiful skin. Have you measured her Interference Rate yet? Do you know how far she is into her threshold of consciousness?”
–She’s over 80 percent.
“How marvelous.” The old woman’s eyes and ears were fully mechanized, and her electronically produced voice was indistinguishable from the real thing.
The man in the wheelchair scooted around to Balot’s flank and asked, “Is it the aftereffects of the Lightite skin graft that makes her unable to walk straight?”
Balot shook her head. She wasn’t sure how best to answer this question.
“I think that Pod Number 3 is free at the moment. Let’s have her swim in the Sheep-Dip Craft for a while. She hasn’t shared her data yet, has she? Her muscle pulse may have been overridden by the sudden acceleration of her senses,” the man in the wheelchair continued, happily letting everything go right over Balot’s head.
–She has an appointment with Dr. Easter right now.
When Tweedledee said this, the man in the wheelchair assumed a sullen expression. “And do you have a good reason for monopolizing her data?”
–Dr. Easter said it’s because she’s a civilian.
The word civilian seemed to have a magical effect on the three old people, who drew back immediately.
“You’ll be sure to get data that we can usefully adapt, at least?” The man in the wheelchair pressed his point nonetheless.
Balot was bewildered by this exchange, and a sense of discomfort closed in on her.
–We have to hurry, I’m afraid. And we really don’t know much about the details.
Tweedledee spoke quickly, as if he had sensed Balot’s feelings.
“Well, we’ll file a request for data sharing. Until then, be sure not to upset your biorhythm.” The tall man placed his hat back on his head. The old woman gave Balot a bow. “Take care of yourself, young lady. I’d love to have tea with someone with as much aptitude as you. Tweedledee, you’ll have tea with me, won’t you?”
–I’ll think about it.
The old woman laughed. Then the three old people fell back into their previous lively conversation and were gone.
–You have to watch their tea parties—they go on for a while. They pile on the medication in order to conduct their little examinations. And then there’s their biorhythmic indices and inspections…
Watching the backs of the three old people as they disappeared down the corridor, Balot thought about how they differed from the Doctor.
She wouldn’t have said that they were bad people in any way. But she couldn’t imagine herself ever becoming friendly with them.
–The Doctor tried to restore my voice for me. Without my even having to ask.
–Huh?
–I can’t imagine those three ever doing the same.
Tweedledee shrugged his shoulders, as if to say So what? No big deal.
But it was a big deal. Balot understood all too well why the Doctor and Oeufcoque had wanted to leave this facility for the outside world.
They arrived at a door that was tightly shut, and Tweedledee turned around.
–You really need to see Dr. Easter right now?
–Oeufcoque’s in there too, right?
Tweedledee gave a look to say I see it all now.
–So it was Oeufcoque that you wanted to see.
Tweedledee looked at the intercom on the door.
–But he’s in the middle of maintenance at the moment. He’s lost half his body, so I wonder if he’ll be able to speak.
His words pierced Balot to her core.
Tweedledee manipulated the intercom, snarcing it, and the signal light started flashing.
–What is it? Oh, it’s you, Tweedledee. What do you want? came the Doctor’s voice.
–Rune-Balot is awake.
–Balot?
There was a rattling commotion from inside, and by and by the door slid open sideways.
“I thought I told you to come and call me the moment Balot regained consciousness!” The Doctor appeared in the doorway, unimpressed.
–I thought it would be quicker to bring her here directly to you. Tweedledee still spoke through the intercom.
“She’s a civilian, you know. Officially we need special dispensation to get her permission to even walk down the corridors…” The Doctor sighed as he pushed his spectacles back up onto the bridge of his nose. The graphs and numbers that had been showing on his Tech Glasses—on the monitor in his spectacles—disappeared, and his blue eyes were now fixed on Balot.
“I’ll explain why we’re all here later. Right now, I need you to rest your body.”
Balot stared back at the Doctor and asked,
–Where’s Oeufcoque?
“He’s under treatment. From me. You don’t need to worry about him.” The Doctor seemed to be blocking Balot’s way, both physically and with his words. “Remember how you didn’t want him to see you naked? Well, consider that he doesn’t want you to see him in his present state for very much the same reason. Also, he’s in some sort of shock. I don’t know exactly why…but I think it’s best if you let him alone for now, just for the time being.”
When Balot heard this she was filled with such sadness that her eyes went dark. And yet, wasn’t it none o
ther than Oeufcoque who had taught her not to just ignore her sadness, but to try and do something about it?
–Oeufcoque said that we were partners…
“Well, I’m not—”
–I want to apologize. I just want to say I’m sorry.
The Doctor averted his eyes, troubled, and Balot took advantage of this.
–Please.
Balot slipped by him. She had read the Doctor’s movements completely.
“Hey, Balot!” Taken aback, the Doctor reached out to try and stop her, but he couldn’t even make contact—she dodged nimbly out of his grasp.
–Even though it was such a struggle for her to walk this far…
Tweedledee was full of admiration, as if he had watched an impressive display of showmanship, and pulled the Doctor’s arm back.
–What harm can she do? She just wants to say hello.
The Doctor opened his mouth to speak but remained silent.
Balot went on into the room.
Instruments were scattered all around, and in the middle there was a cylindrical water tank. It was about as wide as Balot, and it was full of liquid, with something unrecognizable floating on the surface.
She couldn’t tell at first glance whether this was Oeufcoque or not, but her intuition told her that it was.
Flesh and steel spiraled out from something that looked like a vivid red human embryo.
She realized in an instant that this was Oeufcoque’s body, turned inside out.
It had a gentle pulse, and it was living inside the nearly clear liquid, basking in the warmth of the red blood swirling around the body.
Balot touched the water tank with her hand. Then she rested her forehead on it, closing her eyes as if to pray a silent prayer.
The clumps of flesh and steel stirred. They seemed to have noticed Balot’s presence. Here and there they started turning squishily, contracting.
Forehead still on the water tank, Balot shook her head.
The Doctor, who was watching this, turned back to Tweedledee. “Are they having a conversation?”
Tweedledee shrugged his shoulders.
–“I’m sorry I was so useless, and that I put you in danger as a result. Forgive me,” that’s what he’s saying.
The Doctor nodded. And then?
–“I love you.”