Isle of Noise

by Rachel Tonks Hill

  “No,” she said touchily. “Why would you say that?”

  “Sorry about my friend,” said Chandra. “The truth is that we can’t remember very much at all. So perhaps it might be better if you took us to the memory bank, so that we might figure out what’s going on.”

  “An excellent idea,” said Zerda. “Let’s go there now. I’ll tell them all to meet us there.”

  Zerda started digging for something in the loose earth, until she found a small round switch, made of the same black stone as the arches above. She twisted it.

  “Stand back,” she said.

  Nothing happened for a few seconds. A low humming sound reverberated through the ground, like wind blown over a bottle, and then the ground shifted. A round hole opened, and a beam of light pierced the sky from the point where the switch had been. The hole grew to several paces across. All they could see inside was a white light that made the glowing ground look dim.

  “Now get ready to jump. Don’t let go.”

  Zerda led them to the edge of the hole, holding their hands like they were children. They looked down into the whiteness, and let gravity do its work.

  “Three, two, one, now!”

  The whiteness engulfed them. Faster and faster they went, until the hole they came from was now less than a shrinking black disc. The light ahead of them was so bright that closing their eyes made no difference.

  Without warning, the whiteness gave way to black. Chandra and Edwin looked back to see they had been going through the atmosphere of a star, which was now receding behind them, turning from an incandescent wall, to a ball, to a point.

  When their sight adjusted to the darkness, they could see the other stars, and the huge spiral galaxy that they were headed towards.

  Chandra and Edwin had flown in head-spaces before, but Zerda was clearly more experienced than they were. She was also taking them faster than they’d ever gone before. There was no rushing wind, or any of the obvious signs of motion, but something about this flight just felt fast.

  “You see that?” said Zerda, pointing ahead. “That’s our home.”

  As Chandra looked more closely at the beautiful galaxy that now filled half the sky, she could see tinges of purple and yellow among its gas clouds. There were now more stars than ever.

  But Edwin was not looking at the stars. The cogs in his mind were turning to figure out what was really going on. Hadn’t Chandra told him that she didn’t use a memory lock? Then why was this head showing the textbook symptoms of memory locking. Was she lying to him or just stupid? Chandra was not the sort to tell lies on a whim, but then again, she’d had no problems with lying to Zerda.

  And that ‘head-mate’ was another matter entirely. She was so much more realistic than any other subconscious projection he remembered. And incredibly, the ‘multiple system’ she described was sounding very similar to what he had already been told about multiplicity which, until less than half an hour ago, he believed was nothing more than a discredited myth. Could this really be one of those elusive multiples? If so, then conclusive proof of their existence would really shake things up at The Institute. And the prospect of getting Webley fired was too inviting to miss.

  By now they were almost inside the galaxy. Could all of these stars have planets embedded in them? He wasn’t even sure if that was how multiplicity worked. One planet per head-mate perhaps? He needed to take a look, preferably without these two bothering him. He didn’t trust Chandra to take him where he wanted to go. And if he went with Zerda, she would take them straight to the other head-mates. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing, as it was possible this multiple could be hostile, and outnumber him. Staying with them wasn’t worth the risk.

  Edwin eased off his grip on Zerda’s arm and slipped away, not letting her or Chandra notice as he changed direction and tumbled off into space.

  Now they were headed towards a light, which grew brighter and brighter as it detached itself from the background of the galaxy. Beneath that star was a spectacular ringed planet, of which only the top was lit up, making it look more like a dome. That dome was swirling with colours, from red-orange, to gold, to turquoise.

  As they approached the broad ring, Chandra saw how the edge was indented like a gear wheel. They were either slowing down now, or the planet was moving along with them. The prismatic landscape of the planet’s ring stretched out below them, as Zerda gently brought her down. Chandra’s feet hit the ground, and she staggered forward a few paces, intrigued that it was possible to walk here. She looked around and saw that they were alone, apart from the star directly above them and the dome of the planet ahead. Only then did she realise that someone was missing.

  “Where’s Ed- uh, Ishmael?” asked Chandra.

  “Who?”

  “Um, never mind.”

  She felt some concern for Edwin, but she assumed he'd just let go by accident. If he got completely lost however, he could still break the golden band to get out. Besides, she half-expected she would have to do this part on her own.

  They walked across the ring in silence, while the digital readout that overlaid Chandra’s vision told her that a memory lock was nearby. When they reached the inner edge of the ring, there was a huge and ornate gate leading to nowhere, and a grand flight of steps leading up to it. Chandra could also spot about fifteen or so starlit figures, milling about and sitting on the steps.

  As they got closer, she began to discern their appearances. They were a diverse group of people. Among them were an angel, a lizard-man with green skin, a person in a space suit, a river spirit, a fascinating creature that looked like a cross between a tortoise and a red squirrel, two women who appeared to be lovers, and three small children, one of whom was hovering playfully above the others.

  Chandra felt somewhat uncomfortable around these people, but they were all unmistakably people, even the ones that weren’t human. It was something in the way they moved and talked. Chandra could see that they weren't subconscious projections. They were too different from each other to be aspects of a single person’s mind. Just now, she could hear fragments of their conversation.

  “I picked these flowers, but I don’t know who they’re for.”

  “You mean yesterday?”

  “Well I know the day before, but everything since then is a blur.”

  “What kind of clown would do this?”

  When they approached the steps, Zerda’s face lit up, and she raced ahead to join the crowd.

  “Hey everyone, what are you doing here?” she called out.

  “You told us to meet you,”

  “I did?”

  “Yes,” said the lizard-man. “Maybe you forgot about it because you were travelling the slow way.”

  “I like taking the slow way.”

  “I know. But you can’t afford to do that for now, or else you might forget things during the journey.”

  “Anyway, you said you had a surprise for us?” said one of the children.

  “Hmm, I suppose I did,” she said, looking round absent-mindedly until she spotted Chandra. “Oh yes, we have a new head-mate. Say hello to Chandra, everyone!”

  Chandra felt very awkward at suddenly being the centre of attention. Every head-mate was now crowding around to give her cheers and kisses on the cheek, and introducing themselves one by one. She tried at least to remember some of their names. The lizard-man was called Thuban. There was a blonde-haired teenager who introduced himself as Max. Every other name and face blurred in her memory, until...

  “That’s her!”

  That shrill voice came from a little girl with red pigtails, green Wellington boots and a red fringe poking out from her matching hat. She had been standing at the back of the group when she saw her. Chandra and the little girl locked eyes. Silence fell upon the group, as they listened intently.

  “She’s that woman from The Institute, the one that ruined our memory!”

  “But I...” Chandra began.

  “You’ve got some nerve coming back here,�
�� Max cut in.

  “But I thought nobody could remember!” Chandra squealed.

  “I’m the only one who remembers,” said the little girl. “Everyone else’s memory is fucked.”

  Chandra was shocked to hear such a small child swearing, but she could hardly blame her.

  “That’s enough, Rana,” said the lizard-man.

  “You didn’t tell me she could remember,” Chandra said to Zerda.

  “I told you what I needed to tell you,” she bluffed.

  “Zerda, you sly old fox!”

  “What did you say to her?”

  “Does it matter, she’s a mind-rapist?”

  “Yeah, why don’t you leave us alone?!”

  “Everyone, be quiet!” spoke the lizard-man. “Now. Let her speak for herself. Chandra, is this true?”

  Everyone fell silent again, and their eyes turned to Chandra, who began to apologise profusely.

  “I’m sorry. It’s me, all right! I’m so sorry for what I did that locked up your memory. It’s just, I wouldn’t have come back, except I felt really guilty about it. And I’m trying now to make it better. You have to believe me!”

  “Why should we believe you?”

  “Yeah, she’s from The Institute!”

  “Never trust The Big I!”

  “She’s telling the truth!” said Thuban, his deep voice bringing the uproar to a silence. “I can always smell a lie.”

  * * * *

  Edwin was lost in space.

  As he drifted between the stars, he wondered if all multiples had galaxies in their heads. Head-spaces varied so widely from person to person, and he had been inside the heads of enough normal people to know that there was no such thing as normal. So there was no reason to assume that all multiples were like this one. Edwin realised how little he actually knew about them, but he craved to know more. Any scientific literature he’d read about multiplicity had long since been erased from his memory. He would have to discover it for himself.

  After drifting from star to star for a while, he found he could get inside them by flying above the star and falling inside. So far he had been into three different stars, each of which contained its own hollow planet. They were fascinating places. The first of them was a bizarre world whose surface was covered entirely by waterfalls. The second was a completely pitch black planet that had to be navigated by touch. And the third one resembled a Mediterranean resort.

  These worlds were so different from each other that they must have been imagined by separate people. If he could only prove this to be the case, then it would confirm one of the most compelling parts of the multiplicity myth: that the people in a multiple system were complex individuals, not stereotyped aspects of a single self. And yet it defied conventional wisdom to even consider this. Everyone knew that multiples were delusional. Edwin knew it too, or at least he thought he knew. According to the message from himself, that was only what The Institute wanted them to think.

  Still it was difficult to believe the myth, because the idea of sharing a head seemed so counter-intuitive. But now that he found himself inside a shared head, he really had no choice but to believe.

  Of course, not everything was the same as the folk-tales said it was. Edwin had once been told that a multiple system contained thousands or even millions of distinct souls. However the data on his digital readouts showed far fewer than that. There could be no more than about 20 of them here, and none of them were nearby. That was probably because they all went to the memory bank with Zerda. They must have left quickly though, which meant there had to be a faster way of getting around.

  He soon found that, because of the way space was folded up and distorted, the very concept of distance was meaningless. This was a head-space after all, unconstrained by the laws of reality. Edwin found that he could jump towards any star or nebula, and space would shift to bring him there. If he took a big step, he could stand in two places at once, and if he put himself in the right position, he could even lie down with his head on one edge of the galaxy, and his toes at the other.

  Edwin turned his attention to the glowing bulge at the centre of the galaxy, and jumped in to take a closer look. This was where a real galaxy would have a black hole, so there had to be something interesting here. When he approached the heart of the galaxy, he found a cone-shaped planet. The part that he could see was white all over, becoming steeper towards the top, and tapering into a sharp spire with a flat platform at its apex. It was only just large enough for the house that stood on top of it. This was a 22nd century townhouse, the kind that he saw everywhere in the old town. It was conspicuous only in the way that it stood alone on the big spire top, and the front door that was made of metal.

  Edwin stood a few paces from the front door. It looked like the stainless steel double door of an elevator. He searched for something to open it, and found a doorbell engraved with an arrow pointing down. Without hesitation, he pressed it. The doors opened into a small elevator, only big enough for one or two people to stand alongside. And there was a mirror at the back, but not an ordinary mirror. It was a fun house mirror that distorted Edwin’s reflection. It made his forehead look huge, and his eyes very far apart, regardless of where he stood.

  This was obviously a bad idea, but Edwin didn’t care. He knew he could just break the golden band at any sign of danger, wait a few minutes for them to forget him, then come back again with the entry code on his shoe.

  He entered the elevator, and saw a line of buttons, starting with G for ‘Ground’ at the top, and the numbers 1, 2, 3 below it, all the way down to 20. A small sign next to them said:

  Max load: 2 persons or 1 trans-fat

  Edwin instinctively reached for the 20th floor button, which was slightly larger than the rest. When he pressed it, the metal doors closed and the elevator slid downwards, slowly and silently. There was no music, which just didn’t feel right. Elevators were supposed to have music, dammit.

  Finally, a light came on behind the button, and the doors creaked open.

  The room beyond was bright white and completely empty, except for directly in front of him, there was a clown taking a shower. He was completely naked, but his entire body was covered in make-up, which gave colour to the water that flowed off his back. His red eyes were fixed on Edwin.

  The Clown continued to scrub himself with a sponge on a stick, and said:

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “Heheh, wrong floor,” Edwin bluffed.

  The Clown said nothing, but continued staring and scrubbing.

  Edwin crept his fingers towards the G button, and pressed it firmly, but the doors didn’t close. He pressed it again, and again. When that didn’t work, he dug his fingers under the band around his waist.

  “Just a moment,” he said to The Clown.

  Edwin, ready to send himself home, pulled outwards, and the golden band stretched, then snapped. The threads unravelled, but Edwin remained exactly where he was.

  That was not supposed to happen.

  “Interesting...” drawled Edwin. He smiled sheepishly, and laughed a little.

  The Clown responded with a high-pitched laugh of his own.

  “Heh heh heh heh heh heh!”

  He sounded like some comedian from the 21st century. And he was advancing slowly towards the elevator.

  Edwin, now on the verge of panicking, jabbed at every button in succession, but they didn’t do anything. The Clown’s creepy laugh was getting closer, and continuing to close the gap.

  Once Edwin ran out of floor buttons, he saw a round yellow button with a bell on it. It was worth a try. He stabbed the emergency button, and the ground fell open.

  The floor tiles parted to reveal the empty shaft below. Edwin fell and fell, until the metal lining ended, and he was falling through darkness. As he plummeted, he could feel thousands of tiny legs brushing against him. The fall continued for minutes, though it felt like hours, until finally, he tumbled head-first through an upside down volcano, and saw
stars. He was back in space, floating away from the planet’s dark underside.

  Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, a giant clown boot extended out on a metal pole and kicked Edwin in the backside, sending him flying.

  * * * *

  “Okay,” said Zerda. “We’ll let you into the memory bank if you promise to fix what went wrong.”

  Chandra nodded.

  “But if you don’t,” said the teenaged boy, who was trying to sound threatening. “Or if there’s any funny business, then...”

  “Stop it, Max,” Zerda cut in.

  “Remind us again why you’re doing this,” Thuban said to Chandra.

  Chandra re-iterated her promise to remove the memory lock.

  “And all that I ask is your cooperation in me doing so,” she finished.

  “Very well,” said Thuban. “I will show you the memory bank.”

  He climbed to the top of the stairs, which seemingly led to nowhere, and pointed towards the colourful planet. Chandra looked to where he was pointing, and saw a bridge. It hadn’t been there before. And yet it had always been there, this was just the first time she noticed it. It led from the top of the steps to a great arched door in the side of the planet.

  “But it is a very private place,” he continued. “Only those who we trust are allowed to see it.”

  “Thank you,” said Chandra

  It was agreed then that three head-mates. would escort Chandra to the memory bank. The little girl Rana led the way, pointing at things every now and then. She was holding hands with Max, who walked alongside her defensively, and showing some unease at exposing his back to Chandra. Thuban brought up the rear of the party, looking back every now and then, as if watching for an unseen enemy.

  Below them was nothing but space. Even though she could fly, or return to her own head as a last resort, Chandra still felt irrationally nervous about falling off this bridge.

  When they reached the other side, the bright golden door opened before them. The grand hall beyond it was covered by an enormous domed ceiling, the inside of the planet. Light streamed in through an immense star-shaped window in the apex of the dome, and the edges of the room were decorated with fountains of various colours. The bookshelves were arranged into a stepped pyramid, with each level supported by Roman columns. Chandra held out her hand to scan the area, but realised this was unnecessary, for the memory lock was right in front of her. A giant gold padlock with a fish symbol on it was wrapped around the nearest column.