Hades- the Diasapora

by Ernest Filak

  I didn’t feel I needed to answer a question like this.

  “Withdraw to the inside. Let me take control over your body. Totally.”

  I felt a stab of atavistic fear flowing from the depths of my soul but I managed to nip it in the bud.

  “Very good, honey,” she praised me. “Keep on doing that.”

  I had only one question.

  “What will happen if we are not able to reverse this process?”

  “Nothing. Though you might develop an interest in your own sex,” she added mockingly.

  “Very funny,” I said, but this remark helped break the rest of my resistance.

  We have recently drifted apart a bit busy with our own affairs. Now things came back to normal. We were together again and I wanted it to last.

  “I love you,” these last words completed the change.

  It was a strange feeling, as if I was floating in space. The impulses from the outside still reached me, but they were muffled. Ingrid did not shut out my senses, but made me lose control over them. Was this how she was feeling all this time? In this state I could travel to the Refugium on my mind alone. I would experience this place like one that was truly real. Small wonder she liked it so much. It was the closest thing to life.

  The change came at a very good time. Images projected by InCorp equipment started bombarding my brain. Their intensity was getting stronger. It was like a series of slides from my previous life. Looped in time they were kept returning and were played all over again.

  The company had done a thorough research. I could see photos from my whole life, from childhood through school years – they even found my school graduation certificate – to the Marines recruit course. All of that was supposed to trigger emotions. The most interesting part was the subliminal input. White cards with instructions and simple commands like trust me, tell me, open up, don’t fight back and lots of others like that. Their purpose was obvious.

  It was a state-of-the-art lie detector. Theodore once told me that he had completed a course that would safeguard him against this type of invigilation. I hoped he had told me the truth.

  When the projections were over I thought this was the end of the interrogation. I was wrong – it was just the beginning. The subsequent signals had a stronger impact. They didn’t flash in a crazy pageant. They all lasted a few seconds during which the reaction of the organism was analyzed. One of the first images was overlapped with a picture of the Mech that we worked on in Hades. I felt a surge of emotion that fortunately didn’t make it to the surface. After the Mech I saw a series of cards with questions on them. The person in charge of the test was awaiting some answers.

  And so it went on. I must say that one photograph made a really great impression on me. It was the image of my former friend Edward Watt. This was a critical moment. I had enough.

  I left all this mess in Ingrid’s hands and moved to my island. It was a while since I last went there and a lot had changed under her rule. The small house was replaced with quite a mansion with a pool. Without the presence of the hostess I didn’t feel comfortable enough to snoop round.

  I stepped outside and bathed in the sea. I regained the feeling of self respect that had been violated by things like wearing a dirty uniform. Lying under palm trees always brought relief.

  I had time to take a walk around the island and do nothing. Ingrid still didn’t call me back and I didn’t want to disturb her. I understood where all her interest in unusual projects that was driving me crazy came from. What can you do in this place? All the waiting was definitely not enough. I was there all alone, cut off from the rest of the world, and I was already bored. And her? It was me who was guilty of cooling down our relations. I promised to myself I would improve and not mess things up like that in the future.

  I don’t feel like collecting wood so I conjured up a ready fire. It gives me pleasant warmth and looking into the flames kills all that extra time. Of course provided you’re not hit by a falling coconut.

  “What is it?”

  I heard cordial laughter. She was walking on the waves. It took my breath away. Under her bare feet the sea was calming down, creating a smooth surface that she walked on like a queen. Little fish jumped into the air kissing her suntanned legs. I would gladly do that myself. I looked at this phenomenal creature like a moron, not knowing how to behave. She was clearly amused by that.

  “Every woman likes to feel loved,” she said standing right in front of me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said feeling remorse.

  She accepted my apology cuddling up in my arms. Yes, this was what I missed the most – the smell of her body, the touch of her velvet skin and her black hair giving us shelter under the stars. Well, here I went a bit too far. There were no stars in the Refugium. But she was there. First we sat down to talk and explain everything to each other. Many words were spoken although there wasn’t too much content in them. Words, words and words that revealed all the emotions. We held hands and let them float all around us.

  I wouldn’t be able to describe their music. You had to experience that to understand.

  “What happened there?” I asked her in the end.

  “They wanted to figure you out.”

  “Do they know about you?”

  “No,” this calmed me down. “But lack of clear answers is an answer in itself,” she added. “They think that somebody had fitted you with a blockade. I’m afraid they will want to force their way through it.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “It is. Don’t forget that the Revolutionaries prepared me for the role of a spy. I know enough about how to gain information. Unfortunately, to do it they will have to get straight inside your brain,” she stroked my arm soothingly.

  “What?”

  “Don’t panic.”

  I quickly stood up and by accident walked into the fire. I kicked the largest log angrily and it flew whirling into the waves that were getting bigger and bigger. A storm was coming.

  “InCorp wants to drill inside my head and you’re telling me not to panic?”

  She stood up as well.

  “They are going to fit you with a regular implant socket. It’s a simple procedure. You won’t even feel a thing.”

  “And after that they will discover all my secrets and that will be it! You’re unique, you know that?” I shook her. “I’m not giving you back to them! Do you understand?”

  “Calm down. Using meditation we should be safe.”

  “We should be? You’re not sure, are you?”

  “No, I’m not. But I don’t know either what we are capable of,” she was trying to sooth me. “Once you have the implant I will be able to use all my abilities.”

  “Do you miss that?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  What was I supposed to add or do? Nothing sensible. Besides, in this case somebody else was calling the shots. I was dying to find out one more thing.

  “Who is Jessica for the Admiral?”

  Ingrid didn’t answer straight away.

  “Please.”

  “This was his daughter’s name,” I heard a reluctant answer.

  “Was, which means…”

  “To be precise, she was supposed to be. His partner miscarried and they couldn’t have any more children. He never got over the loss.”

  “Why did you mention her?” I still didn’t understand my AI’s motifs.

  “Because nobody knows about that and Gerald Williams will do anything to find out how you know about this.”

  I had to think this through.

  “I’m going back,” I decided.

  “You’re asleep now, so you don’t have to hurry.”

  “Aren’t they going to discover our secret?” I was doubtful/

  “Staying here isn’t different from a deep sleep. We’re safe. And I have a few toys in the house. Wouldn’t you like to test them?” she added, playing with her décolletage.

  I swallowed. I was in no hurry after all.

  Chap
ter XXII

  Power Station - Sol 2F

  In a cramped kitchenette Brett was savoring every sip of his freshly-brewed coffee. He was studying the weather forecasts at the same time. Before starting his shift he had to get well acquainted with them. This is what his bonus depended on. The more he would get for the corporation, the more would go into his own pocket. During his last holiday he made a deposit to buy a small island in the Coral Sea. Its previous owner lost his fortune on the stock exchange. He could not miss a chance like that.

  He could hear some plodding footsteps from within the station. He automatically switched the coffee machine on and returned to analyzing the data. He didn’t even look up when his colleague walked inside.

  “Hi, Brett,” she welcomed him.

  “Hi, Angel,” he answered as usual.

  The girl sat down on the stool, relieved. She was still distracted after her two-week shift. This state should last another few hours; that’s why the shifts overlapped. This gave them a chance to exchange experiences and reassured the worker who was finishing the shift.

  The ringing of a bell and the sound of coffee brewing broke her reverie. He moved the black liquid her way. There was still fire in her eyes. Every surfer loved the black color – they spent too much time staring into gold. He didn’t bother her, discreetly observing from a distance whether she was showing any signs of psychosis.

  “Thanks,” she drank her first sip.

  There was a time when he was glad they were on neighboring shifts. He really wanted her. In different circumstances they would have ended up in bed a long time ago. This job destroyed all relationships. This is where the best of the best worked, fanatics who enjoyed every minute of the job to the full. It gave them more pleasure than drugs and was addictive to a similar extent. And after that moral torment came, most depressing right after disconnection.

  During the two-week shift the body lost weight. The woman looked like a shadow. Her dressing gown hung on her like on a coat hanger. Her skin was grayish and she had purple bags under her eyes. Her greasy hair completed the image of misery.

  But next month she would have enough time to regain her losses and bring things back to the norm. She would go to the gym, and a specialist diet, her family and a loving husband would be waiting for her. Other surfers placed bets whether she would come back after her pregnancy. Brett hated gambling more than anything else. He knew that Marilyn would be coming back – only death could stop her from doing this job. The same was true about him.

  “How are things in the world?”

  He put his reader aside.

  “The stock exchange is going down. The crisis is getting worse.”

  “I have already sold all my stocks,” she said. “I’m out of this.”

  “And what did you invest in?” he asked intrigued.

  Their investments was what they talked about most often. The job they did was characterized by intensity and many people quickly faced burnout. The time to think about retirement came very soon for many.

  “Land,” she said. “I bought a castle in Scotland. And you?”

  “Similar. Greace talked me into buying an island.”

  “Wow. Expensive?”

  “Greace or the island?”

  She snorted with laughter, spilling her coffee.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll clean up.”

  “Sit,” he stood up and started wiping.

  “You’re sweet.”

  He didn’t react. Standing next to her, he realized that Marilyn’s breasts still looked more alluring than those of his fiancée who had been raised in Earthly prosperity. She noticed his interest. He sat down in his seat.

  “Brett, this would never work out anyway,” she said with her head low. “Just look at me.”

  “I don’t mind,” this was something they talked about a lot before.

  “You say that now. But none of the surfers ever made it work.”

  “There is always the first time. I’ll ask to be transferred to a different station. We could work the same shift,” his voice was very quiet now. He knew she would say no.

  “I like things the way they are now,” Marilyn was searching eye contact but he avoided it.

  “Brett, honey, don’t be mad,” she asked.

  “I’m sorry,” he recovered quickly. “I hoped I would manage to persuade you in this state.”

  “You’re such a pig.”

  “Whenever I leave the tank, I want to fuck like crazy. I hoped you would give in.”

  “I feel the same,” she admitted, “but women are capable of controlling their hormones.”

  “There is a lot on the news about your favorite Lora Lock again,” he changed the subject.

  “Did she sign the contract?” the woman took the bait.

  “Yes. She’s advertising this new porn channel.”

  “I have to get a subscription,” Marilyn took a mirror out of the drawer. “How do I look?” she moaned.

  Her gestures were more confident now. She hastily adjusted her hair.

  “I like you anyway,” he mumbled under his breath.

  She assessed her miserable look.

  “You must really be in love,” she said. “Poor you.”

  She stretched her arms his way but he moved away.

  “In love or not, go take a shower ASAP,” he commanded.

  “Duty first, then pleasures,” she popped her dinner inside the oven. After a second she took a tasty looking chicken casserole out. “Would you like some?”

  “Thanks, I’ve just finished my own,” he refused.

  As dessert he moved a packet of Weldosky Pie cookies towards her. He had brought them from his holidays.

  “I love you,” she squealed with childlike delight looking at the cookies.

  He didn’t say anything hearing that but went back to analyzing the records from her shift.

  Fully automatic solar energy stations did not work to the optimum. In the constantly changing conditions it was necessary to hire people. Machines alone were not effective enough. That’s why specialists had been employed. Brett and Marilyn belonged to a small group of people doing the best-paid jobs in the world, commonly known as solar surfers. They needed to possess the knowledge in the fields of Physics, Astronavigation and Mathematics, together with a passion for extreme sports, constant risk and sudden adrenaline surges. All this coupled with working in isolation in an extremely hostile environment made it very difficult for most people to get through the selection procedure. Apart from that, the candidate had to go through a training which lasted between three to six years. As a result, very few people qualified to actually do the job.

  A well trained surfer could increase the effectiveness factor of acquired energy by a hundred percent and significantly decrease equipment losses. It was one of the few occupations left where the presence of the human factor meant millions of credits earned.

  “Quite good results,” Brett commented on Marilyn’s work.

  “Mhm,” she nodded, biting into a chicken leg.

  “You’ve lost six boards,” he said surprised. “This is quite a lot.”

  “It will still be all right,” she happily ravaged the vegetables, “Delicious asparagus.”

  “During your shift the Board made the decision of switching to the new system.”

  The fork hovered at her mouth.

  “Is this certain?”

  “It is,” he said. “They are already preparing a training program.”

  “Will it play out well for us?”

  “It’s hard to say. I wouldn’t be surprised if they trimmed our commissions. My manager is keeping his fingers on the pulse.”

  “Those bastards. They want to rip us off,” the food on the fork travelled to her esophagus. Marilyn took a moment to think the news through. “What can we do with that?”

  Brett put a finger on his lips. This was not a safe topic. Especially here. The company was very sensitive to all instances of workers making deals between one anot
her. The surfers negotiated their pay individually and collective agreements were out of the question. Those who tried it had been fired. And it was more and more difficult to find a job. Even the competition didn’t want to employ people suspected of unionist sympathies. To this end detectives were hired to screen the surfers’ families two generations back. The same analysis was applied to friends and neighbors and to everybody who might have any opinions considered inappropriate by the corporation.

  “Be prepared to expect an invitation to visit a medical center on your return,” he continued, not allowing himself to say more.

  Marilyn did let go. Like most surfers she would visit her favorite bar to drink to future success. Somebody should get in touch with her.

  The most important thing had been done. He put the data away and stood up.

  “The forecasts don’t predict any storms.”

  “Don’t trust them,” she said. “Something’s changing.”

  “Come on,” he ignored her warnings. “Nothing more than an S should come up and the Wolf number is low.”

  She stood up quickly, moving the unfinished meal aside.

  “Not this time. I lost a few boards in a situation that shouldn’t even happen. Promise me, Brett, that you will be careful.”

  Did this mean that he was somebody important to her? He wasn’t brave enough to ask this question. The steering center where they were now was far enough for him not to be in any physical danger. He could only be fired, if the value of the lost equipment was too high. They called this state burnout and sooner or later it happened to everyone, without exception.

  “All right,” he promised to make her like him more. She was still in the post-solar phase characterized by over sensitivity. “Will you manage on your own or do you want me to sit here with you?”

  “Get lost,” she sat down again. “I’ll be fine.”

  Brett looked at the clock. It was high time to start the preparations. Marilyn would recover very quickly, he knew that. In the next few hours she will be watching over him until he gets acclimatized. After that he will stay all alone.

  “Bye,” he set off along the narrow halls to his part of the station.

  The whole way was fitted with handles everywhere. Even here in the high orbit, disturbances of the gravitational field happened. He could feel it through nausea, which was getting worse every step of the way. The usual. His body changed its relative weight together with the changes in gravity. He walked some sections thanks to the power of his hands when his legs floated.