by Andy Remic
She tried to work out who she was, but failed miserably. She could not remember her name, nor any single detail about herself. This distressed her, and made her wonder if she was, in fact, insane as opposed to dead. And if this was insanity, then this was far, far worse. Give her death every time.
At least in death, in theory, one found peace. But not here, like this. This was not peace. This was an ode to madness. A soliloquy for the sad and lost and depraved. A wild moaning wind symphony, a song of the mentally diseased.
And it came to her, one glimmer of information, and she realised she was not dead, and not insane, and she reached out with her invisible hand and grasped that glimmer of information like it was a sharp blade, and even though it tore her flesh, made her scream, made her bleed, she hung on to that data and drew it towards herself and into herself and knew she was real, knew she was human.
Molly.
Toffee.
Her children.
Her girls.
I am alive, and I am married, and I have wonderful baby girls, and like an oil cloud curtain being drawn back, colours flooded her world and reality and she flew, or drifted, over a vast dead forest of bone trees.
A cold wind moaned, and caressed her, and she shivered.
The sky was the colour of blood, shot through with indigo and dark grey. Black and amber storm clouds raged like swirling echoes of chaos in an eternal battle, hurling spears of lightning and roaring with thunder. Below, the forest was a vast, eternal thing, endless grey skeletal trees sprouting like cancer from a barren bleached earth. She floated, over the eternity of bone, and all she could think was:
My children.
Where are my children?
What happened to my life?
Who am I?
I am my children. My children have become me. I hope they are unhurt... because if they’re not, I’m going to rend and tear and kill, I’m going to cut off heads and find a gun and pump bullets into pale rancid flesh, watching steel rip out lungs and heart, smash bones through arms and legs, shatter skulls and piss brain pulp onto the rancid fetid lap of the gods...
Click. Like a light-switch. Click, click.
What is wrong with me? What is wrong with the world? I used to have friends, but they changed, they turned, they turned fucking strange, that’s for sure. And how can you really understand that? Somebody else, when they go weird, turn... alien. Their minds twist and turn, become a labyrinth of misunderstanding. And what was once friendship is shattered, broken, and words are said and bitterness is rife and it’s just broken, snapped, shattered beyond all repair...
Husband. I had a husband...
Dex. Dexter. Dexter Colls.
Kat drifted, and she drifted for a long time but felt neither hunger nor cold, neither thirst or the need to piss or shit or do anything. She wondered idly if she drifted an hour, a day, or millennia. It all felt the same. Filled her with an emptiness.
Then, a thought. An idea.
It seemed wonderful to her.
An absolute epiphany.
Children. Toffee. Molly. Husband. Dexter. Must find them... must find them all...
As if kick-starting a crashed motorcycle, Kat’s engine came back to life. Blood started to pulse through veins, the world filled out with colour, and the bone forest below started to accelerate. Trees whizzed past, getting faster and faster and faster, like some great mad rollercoaster of bones and Kat looked down, and she was on a rollercoaster of bones. She was seated in a pelvis, clutching rails made from snapped and welded ribs. The wheels were moulded spinal discs which gave the rollercoaster carriage an eerie, rocking, shifting motion as it rattled over the track. Kat grasped the ribs tightly, as if her life depended on it, and strangely it did not feel strange, or creepy, in any way. She realised she was on some kind of track flowing over the forest of bone trees, and she half stood to glimpse the track... it was a length of bowel, grey and pulsing and urging the pelvic CAR onwards. Kat sat back down again. She didn’t feel surprised.
As long as I get to where I want to be...
And where is that, my sweetness?
To Molly and Toffee, my beautiful children...
She slammed along, bone-rattle and bowel-squidges filling her senses. Still the skies battled above her, and this was so surreal it had to be (had to be) created by drugs. What else could do such a thing? Hmm?
She stood in a garden. Around her, huge towering flowers and plants drifted gently. The sky still raged, but silent now, as if seen through a great glass screen. Above, the bowel track veered off and disappeared, taking with it the rattling bone carriage which stretched out and out and out, like a conveyor belt of giant pelvic bones.
Kat breathed in the perfume. It was beautiful.
“Mommy! “
“Mum!”
They ran to her, hair flowing, and she gathered up her children and held them tight and now nothing mattered in the whole world, the whole universe, the whole of creation forever and ever, Amen. Because they were with her, and back to her, and safe, now, safe in her arms. And even if they were insane, they would all deal with it together. And even if they were dead, they would deal with it together.
Katrina pulled back slightly, tears gleaming wet against her cheeks, and she ruffled Molly’s dark hair, straight razor-cut fringe above her serious features. Then she turned to Toffee, who glowed like flowers, like rainbows, and ruffled her hair as well, and Toffee beamed and was happy that she was with her mother again.
They huddled, for minutes, for hours, for days, for weeks, until finally they emerged from the loving family embrace to realise one horrible thing –
”Where’s Daddy?” said Molly.
“Yeah, where’s Dad?” said Toffee, her face falling.
“I’m sure he won’t be far,” said Kat, holding her girls tight.
“Where are we?” Molly stared around, at the eight-foot flowers and ferns and bushes. They were everywhere, a screen surrounding the trio, a seemingly impenetrable forest of colourful alien foliage.
“We’re in a forest,” said Toffee. “An alien forest!”
“Listen,” said Kat, but both girls were staring around in wonder. She shook them a little, and their gazing eyes snapped to her face as if dragged by elastic. “Listen,” more gentle now, “what’s the last thing you remember?”
Both girls scrunched up their faces. Finally, Molly said, “I remember being in bed, asleep. And then... then we had breakfast. Toast and chocoladdo mocoladdo.”
“And I had Weeny Wopsy Popsy Burgers!”
Kat frowned, but her own memories would not return. She remembered kissing Dexter, and then... and then rolling around under the covers of the bed, giggling, drinking wine, getting jiggy and down to the business. And then a tight embrace and a tumbling down into sleep.
“Shit,” she said.
“Mum!” gasped Toffee.
“It’s okay,” said Molly, voice gravelly. “Mum and Dad say that all the time.”
“But it’s rude,” said Toffee. “A swear word...”
“You may be wondering why you’re here?” came a soothing female voice. The voice was everywhere at once, but not over loud. It was soothing, but not weak. It was powerful, but not overbearing. It was the voice of Control.
Kat stared around her. “Who are you? Show yourself?”
“I am a sentient section of the Monolith Mainframe. I help run Theme Planet. You may call me SARAH. I am here to help.”
Kat stared around herself suspiciously, still cradling her children. “Okay, SARAH. What the hell are we doing here? Wherever here is?”
“Some very powerful enemies have stolen you away,” said SARAH. “The Theme Planet is a place where reality and fantasy merge so very, very closely. You have become detached from the reality of your bodies, and your enemies have made sure your spirits are lost in a deviated version of one of Monolith’s Theme Planet Recreational FunFake Reality systems.”
Click, click.
“Oh,” said Kat, frowning, hea
d twisting. “Is that... real?”
“Of course it is, Mom,” hissed Molly. “FunFake VR is one of the biggest-selling most popular attractions of Theme Planet! They sink you in these gelanium vessels, and insert needles into your brains, and away you go...”
Kat stared around her once more, unsure, disturbed by speaking to some vague and vacuous voice. “Can you show yourself, SARAH? I can’t grow accustomed to some ghostly presence whispering in my ear. Just call me old fashioned, but it creeps me out.”
There came a shimmer in the air, which parted, and there stood a tall, gaunt, beautiful woman. Her skin was a shimmering silver, and she wore a long, ankle-length silver dress which hugged her figure. Her hair was long and black, her eyes black portals into another dimension.
“This is the best I can do, here, amongst the enemy,” said SARAH.
“Amongst the enemy?”
“Yes. As I said, they have deviated the program. I am here as a Safety Representative of Monolith Corporation. It is my job to guide you safely home. Back to your bodies, without violation.”
“And you know where our bodies are?”
“We have people working on it,” said SARAH, and the avatar smiled. Katrina didn’t feel very convinced.
“So even if we escape here, we could be in very real physical danger?”
“Yes.”
“Why not just kill us here?”
“I think there was an error. This place was not the intention of your captors. They were seeking information using hacked Monolith terminals. I fear they may have been of Earth origin, linked to Earth’s Oblivion Government. However, whatever the case, this is the situation now, and I have been sent to help recover you.”
“Great!” said Molly. “Our very own dangerous adventure!”
“Shush,” scowled Kat. “What happens if we get hurt here?”
“You are hurt in reality,” said SARAH.
“And killed here?”
“Again, killed in reality.”
“Why can’t you just whisk us away and wake us up?”
“It does not work like that,” said SARAH. “The systems built on Theme Planet are massively complex organic-interactive digital integrators; they become a part of a rider’s mind. Entwined. And you are lost in that mesh. I have found you, found all three of you, for your powerful interpersonal links have drawn you together - but by finding you, I have lost myself. We must work together to escape this... Hell.”
“And if you die?” said Kat, somewhat harshly.
“I am reborn back in the Monolith Simulator.”
“No worries for you, then,” she snapped.
“Not so. The adverse publicity for Theme Planet if something untoward were to happen to you or your children would be incredibly negative. It could massively damage sales in the Quad-Gal arena. Theme Planet and Monolith Corporation pride themselves on non-injury, non-death holidays. After all, we’re as safe as safe can be. We do not wish a financial downturn.”
“Poor fucking Theme Planet!” snapped Kat. “Wouldn’t like to lose you some dollars now, would we?”
“Please,” said SARAH, face pleading, “I am here to help. I am your only hope.”
“And what about my husband?” said Katrina, eyes cold. “Who gets to help him?”
“He is free of this cycle,” said SARAH. “He was not caught in this mesh.”
“What, so he’s out there, free of this shit?”
“Yes,” said SARAH. “I would suspect even now he is trying to find your physical entities...”
“Physical... you mean our bodies? Bloody hell, machine, he might think we’re dead!”
“That is a possibility,” said SARAH,
“Where are our bodies?”
“That has not yet been determined.”
A warm breeze blew, and the ferns shifted. Kat’s nostrils twitched. But by God, she thought, it feels so real! I feel so... alive! Distantly, there came a strange clicking noise. Hollow, metallic, rhythmical. And SARAH reckons that if we die here, in this fucked up virtual world, then we die back in the real world. Because everything has been screwed up. Our kidnappers have fucked up! Just totally brilliant!
“Come on, girls,” said Kat.
“So you’ll let me help you? Guide you?”
Kat turned, eyes burning, one hand on the shoulder of each girl. “Yes, SARAH. For now. Girls, cover your ears. No arguing, just do it! Listen, SARAH. If you lead me astray, if you try and fuck with me or my children, I swear to any cold hydrogen God willing to listen across the vastness of the Four Galaxies that I’m going to fuck you up, fuck the Theme Planet up, and fuck the Monolith Corporation up worst of all.”
“Such aggression,” said SARAH, portal eyes filled with infinity.
“Better believe it,” snapped Katrina.
SARAH gave a simple nod, and gestured with a hand. A corridor opened within the forest of high ferns, and Kat led her children into the jungle. Behind them, SARAH followed.
~ * ~
They walked for a long time. The air was warm and humid. Above them, the silent storm raged with green and purple flashes of alien lightning. Molly and Toffee walked in silence, eyes lifting often to observe the amazing vision in the heavens.
“I don’t understand,” said Toffee after a while. “Which bit isn’t real?”
“It’s all real,” said Molly, frowning down at her little sister. “But some of it is just in our heads, because our bodies are someplace else, in big glass tubes in a liquid. Isn’t that right, Mom?”
“Yes.”
“And they put big needles into our brains!” said Molly, poking her fingers into the top of her head and pulling a Big Scary Face at Toffee. “Whoooeeeoooo!”
“Stop it! Tell her, Mummy, tell her! That’s not true, is it? They haven’t put big scary needles in our brains. I wouldn’t like that. I don’t like needles. I remember going to see Dr. Dentist, and he was all mad with eyes and hair and stuff, and he put a big needle in my gum and it hurt! It really hurt!”
Kat threw a dark look at Molly. “No, dear, I don’t think they’ve put big needles in our brains. I don’t think they’d do that for a minute!” She gave Toffee a quick cuddle and made a harsh gesture to Molly whilst Toffee’s head was bowed.
Again, distantly, there came a clicking sound.
“What is that?” said Toffee. “That clicking noise?”
Molly opened her mouth, caught her mother’s glare, and closed it again.
“It’s the insects,” said SARAH, and Molly grinned. Molly wasn’t happy unless doom and gloom were on the horizon, and even more so if the doom and gloom were there to frighten her little sister.
“Insects?” wavered Toffee.
“SARAH!” warned Kat.
“It is a very real threat,” said SARAH. “You need to be warned.”
~ * ~
They walked through tunnels of fire. Kat was apprehensive as they approached the roaring inferno, as any sane person would be. But children are not sane people, and Kat saw Molly and Toffee’s eyes light up with rabid excitement, with glistening joy, with a buzz, baby, a buzz. Not for them the fear that Dexter might be dead, or on the run, or worrying his little mind sick due to his family’s disappearance. Children’s brains didn’t work like that. Oh, it’s Dad, Dad’s always there, Dad’s big and strong and eternal; nothing bad can happen to him because he’s our dad. And he’s our dad because he’s eternal. A rock. A constant. Like the spin of the planet, the burning of the sun, the expansion of the galaxy. But Katrina knew that even gravity failed, even fires burned out, and explosions ran out of energy. And she remembered her own father, remembered his death and the knife, the fucking white-hot knife through her own heart at the realisation that he wasn’t a god, wasn’t immortal, and she was, in fact, alone in a big, wide, fucked-up, cruel universe that cared nothing for twelve-year-old little girls, cared nothing for tears, cared nothing for pity. Nature was a cunt, there were no two ways about it. And humanity was a virus, a fucking amoeba scraping alo
ng the bottom of the barrel, a bottom-feeder of the lowest order. Nature cared nothing for being fair. Nature did what it did.
“Wait.” An instruction.
Molly ambled to a halt, followed a moment later by Toffee. They both turned with questions in their eyes. But it’s only a twenty-story-high circle of fire that leads into a vast, roaring, screaming inferno, those eyes seemed to say. What could possibly be the problem?