Isle of Noise

by Rachel Tonks Hill

  “What’s that?”

  “What are we doing here?”

  “It’s a memory lock,” said Chandra. “I came here to get rid of it.”

  Chandra walked up to the memory lock, and touched both her hands onto it. The lock glowed red for a moment, then opened, and shrank down to a fraction of its previous size. Chandra picked up the lock and put it in her pocket. And then it was done. It almost seemed too easy.

  “Your memory should start working from now onwards,” said Chandra.

  “Yay!” said Rana.

  “Well I’d love to stay,” Chandra went on. “But I think it would be best for my job security if you simply forgot me.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m from The Institute.”

  There was a muffled gasp from someone.

  “In that circumstance,” said Thuban. “You had a lot of courage showing up here again to set things right.”

  “I just hope that if you remember something about me, then you remember me in a positive light.”

  “And I wish we could say goodbye on good terms,” he said. “And for you to return home safely. I really do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Max said coldly. “It’s just that you can’t leave. No one can.”

  “What do you mean I can’t leave?”

  “I mean what I say I mean.”

  “But why?!”

  “We did not choose this,” said Thuban.

  “Let me explain,” said Rana. “It’s not to keep you in. It’s to stop The Clown from getting out.”

  “Who the heck is The Clown?”

  Before Chandra’s question could be answered, something crashed into the ceiling, shattering the dome into tens of thousands of shards of glass. It was a man. Before he’d even hit the ground, the pieces rose back into place, and the planet’s ceiling reformed behind him. Chandra recognised the falling man as Edwin. She could see that his golden band was missing. Presumably he’d already tried to bail out and it hadn’t worked. She felt guilty for having dragged Edwin into this. He landed on his feet in front of them with a heavy thump, and a crazed expression on his face.”

  “It’s a trap!” Edwin screamed, accidentally quoting an old Hollywood movie.

  The accusations came fast, with Edwin jumping to the conclusion that Chandra had conspired with the head-mates. to trap him inside the head of a crazy person.

  “Calm down Ed. It’s nothing to do with us. It’s to keep the clown from escaping.”

  And then he really did calm down.

  “Oh,” he said. “That thing.”

  “You’ve seen him?!” said Rana, with fear in her voice.

  “All of him,” he replied.

  “I’m sorry but who is this?!” asked Max.

  “This is Edwin,” said Chandra. “My colleague.”

  Edwin looked somewhat annoyed to hear Chandra giving away his real name.

  “Then he’s from The Institute too?”

  “Don’t worry,” Chandra said. “We’re off-duty.”

  “Speaking of The Institute,” said Edwin. “There can only be one group of people who trapped us here? Only one organisation in the world can create such a powerful nullifier field.”

  “I’m guessing it’s them,” said Max.

  “Chandra,” said Edwin, looking her in the eyes. “Did you have anything to do with this?”

  “No,” replied Chandra.

  “She’s not-” Thuban began.

  “I know she’s not lying.” snapped Edwin.

  At that point, Chandra grabbed Edwin by the arm and took him behind a bookshelf to hiss in his ear:

  “Why are we trapped? I’ve been in here once before and got out alright!”

  “Well,” he grinned sheepishly. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

  “Tell me!” she said, twisting his arm.

  “Alright, alright. Well to put it simply, my Apparatus is, well... not powerful enough... compared to what The Institute uses.”

  “You knew this would happen?” They were not bothering to whisper now.

  “No,” he said defensively. “My Apparatus is a fast and capable machine. However, I do not have all the Big I’s resources at my disposal. And for some reason, they’ve gone and built a nullifier field so strong that only they can get past it. My Apparatus can’t even scratch it. It’d be like filling up a swimming pool with a water gun, albeit a really powerful water gun that can shoot pretty far, but even then...”

  “Jesus! Everything is about sex with you.”

  “Hey, would you let me finish?”

  “No. Shut up. I’m trying to think.”

  She paced up and down the aisle for a moment.

  “Okay, why would The Institute do this? It’s obviously expensive for them. What is it about this individual... sorry, individuals, that warrants this much protection?”

  “I think they’re afraid of The Clown.”

  There was a pause. Chandra turned to the head-mates., who were edging themselves closer to listen.

  “Alright then,” she said assertively. “You really need to tell me what this clown thing is, and why The Institute sealed him in here.”

  “I’ll tell you,” grunted Thuban. “But it’s a long story, and some of it may be... triggering. So consider yourselves warned.”

  The lizard-man led them to a bookshelf at the heart of the pyramid. He sat the others down on four squashy chairs, and picked out an old and battered book called How Andie Lost her Mind ~ 139th Edition. In the warm light that percolated through the shelves above, he began to read.

  “The Andromeda System owes its existence to one woman. She was known to the outside world as Andrea Curtis, but in the safety of her own mind she took the name of her favourite astronomical entity, Andromeda.”

  Rana interrupted: “I’ve heard this story so many times,” but Thuban continued.

  “Like many children her age, Andie had imaginary friends. It was her best friend Sirrah who taught her to fly. The two girls would have amazing adventures in space together, playing endlessly with starships and aliens. That was how she met most of us, and discovered the galaxy that bears her name.

  “As she grew older, most girls would have forgotten about their imaginary friends, yet we became more real to her than ever before. We longed to spend more time together, so Andie showed us into the real world, allowing us to see through her eyes and control her motions. It was a novel experience, which brought us closer. And in times of hardship one of us could then take over her body to get her out of trouble.

  “I think it frightened her at first, to find out that the people in her head were real, and claimed as much ownership to her body as she did. We assured her that we would never ever abuse this privilege. She replied that it was not this that worried her, but how the outside world would react if they knew that she was, along with all of us, a multiple.

  “She told us that in the real world, multiples were the subject of derision. Though multiple systems like us have been born to every generation of history, their stories are lost to forgotten corners of the internet. And they are grossly outnumbered by the pretenders, individuals making false claims of being multiple for whatever reason. So try as we might, that world could never take us seriously.

  “To make matters worse, there are the doctors out there who treat multiplicity as a disease. It is the usual tradition in the real world for people with mental disorders to be robbed of their human rights. So naturally they would not hesitate to take the life of a head-mate, especially if they believed it necessary to cure some supposed illness. It goes without saying that they do not consider us people. They see us only as an illusion created by the disease.”

  “So, you’re not then?” Edwin interrupted.

  “Do I look like an illusion to you?!” Max said indignantly.

  “Anyway, we had no choice but to pretend to be one person, taking it in turns to wear the mask of Andrea Curtis. We kept it secret for years, only ever telling o
ne person in the real world about our true selves, our uncle Finn.

  “But it couldn’t stay secret forever. Four years ago, Finn had to go before the lie detector in a job interview. When they asked him if anyone in his family had a mental illness, there was nothing else he could have said. And the company was legally obliged to share the information with the SPCC.

  “As a result of this, we would lose our permit to work if we did not attend a free therapy session, courtesy of The Institute. We were deathly afraid they would prescribe a psychoactive medicine that stops us from communicating with each other, or even force us to integrate. But the therapist himself did very little. He wasted so much time asking irrelevant questions about trauma, and trying to talk us into making a false confession of insanity. But at the end of the hour, he allowed us to leave without a diagnosis.

  “The next day, we met a new head-mate, Canto The Clown. In hindsight, we never should have trusted him, but he was friendly and had a great sense of humour. And most importantly, he offered us hope at a time when the world seemed determined to hate us. He said our multiplicity was not a disease, but something to be proud of, and people would understand that if we just expressed ourselves. We were so naive, and that Clown made us think we could change the world.

  “We started to blog about our multiplicity. At first nobody listened to us, but then The Clown started controlling our body, and he was very, very good at it. He shouted at people who referred to us by the wrong pronouns, something we had never minded before. He compelled us to scorn strangers for their ‘privilege’, and rant to our friends about social justice. He distorted our opinions out of proportion, telling us that this was the right way to think. And without realising it, we had become little more than a parody of our former self.

  “It was all too late when we found out The Clown was an artificially implanted head-mate, created by the SPCC to make us doubt our own existence. That was the true purpose of the therapy session. Their best weapon was not denial, not shame, but ridicule. So they sent a clown. I must stress that by then it was too late to stop him. No one could take our multiplicity seriously any more, not even Andie. That was when she stopped believing in us. The Clown had been waiting a long time for this to happen. He tricked her into thinking that only one head-mate was the one true consciousness of Andrea Curtis, and it was not her but The Clown. So, believing herself to be an illusion created by a mental illness, she gave away everything. She gave him everything he needed to take over our body completely.

  “The Clown has been in charge ever since. He sealed himself away inside a hyperbolic fortress at the centre of the galaxy, which is guarded by our greatest fears.”

  “It didn’t seem that scary,” muttered Edwin.

  “It is from there that he controls the body. And he has developed quite a knack for it. He even imprisoned Andie alongside him. That way he will always be able to get information out of her, to find out exactly what she would say or do in an uncertain situation, all the better for pretending to be her.

  “As far as those in the real world can tell, Andrea Curtis has recovered well from her multiple personality disorder. Her head-mates. no longer control her. Nobody out there could possibly know that this is a mere mockery of the truth, and that the Andie they knew has been absent for three years, replaced with a Clown.”

  Thuban shut the book. When he put it back on the shelf, the title on the cover had changed to 140th Edition.

  “That’s awful!” said Chandra.

  “Well duh,” said Rana.

  “Isn’t there anything we can do?” she continued.

  “I’m afraid not,” said Thuban. “And since you can’t leave either-”

  “You’ll probably stay here till we die,” Rana cut in.

  “Or until The Clown gets tired of us,” said Max.

  There was silence, until Edwin spoke.

  “Wait. I have an idea.”

  “Will it actually work?” asked Chandra.

  “I think so. It depends if we can distract The Clown for long enough to get Andrea into The Institute’s head office.”

  Now he had their attention. Edwin described the rest of his plan to them.

  “It won’t work,” Max said when he had finished.

  “Anything is worth a try,” said Chandra.

  “No, not just anything,” said Thuban. “But this one is worth a try.”

  “It is?!” said Max.

  Thuban continued. “Edwin and Chandra, if your plan is a success, I don’t know how we would ever repay you. What could we possibly give you in return for defeating The Clown?”

  “Oh, I can think of something,” said Edwin.

  “And what would that be?”

  “A head-mate. One of yours I suppose.”

  They scowled at Edwin’s request.

  “What, why would you want that?!”

  “Let me explain,” said Edwin. “If I was to fight for the rights of multiples like you, I would have to become one of you.”

  “But how would you do that for us?”

  “By letting the world know that you exist. No one believes in multiples right now because SPCC and The Institute are trying to silence them. Right now they are knowingly destroying evidence of multiplicity because it makes them look bad. It’s not right. As a senior staff member of The Institute, I might stand a chance at changing their minds. But as a multiple system myself, I could do so much more. I’d be living proof of their existence, so they’d have no choice but to listen to me. With that power, I would end their institutionalised cruelty towards multiples, so no one like Andrea has to suffer again. Just give me a chance to do this, and maybe then, other people will start to accept us for what we are.”

  “But,” said Thuban. “Giving you a head-mate? This is a serious psychological condition, not some kind of trading card game!”

  “Actually,” said Chandra. “If the SPCC was able to implant The Clown into this system, it should also be possible to transfer head-mates. from one head to another.”

  “But... one cannot simply become a multiple system. Your brain is fundamentally different from ours.”

  “But what if he can?” said Max. “We might not be so different after all.”

  They decided to go back to discuss it with the others. They would have to learn to trust Edwin, but since the mood in Andromeda had changed from hostility to hope, such things now seemed to be possible. While they walked, first edition copies of the new memories began to materialise on the bookshelves. These told of a renewed sense of purpose, now that they had a plan to save Andie, along with the hope, however small, that they could change the wider world. Even Max walked with a spring in his step.

  When they crossed the threshold of the memory bank, there was a great comet in the sky that Andromeda had not seen in almost four years. The head-mates. knew what it meant. It was a harbinger of change. Somehow Chandra knew this as well. They knew too that there was work to be done, but for now, all they could do was gaze into the depths of the imaginary sky, and wonder.

  And Edwin smiled to himself. He had been lucky to get this far, and being trapped in someone else’s head was only a minor inconvenience. The Institute would deal with the consequences. They could erase as many memories as they liked, but they would not be able to forget the Wöller incident. Edwin would make sure of it. So what if he had to become multiple in order to do so?

  If he played his cards just right, then deliberately inflicting himself with a mental illness might end up being the best career move he ever made.

  ***

  Interlude 7

  Many centuries ago, a great man had a vision - a vision of a world set free, a world without limits, an empire of glory without end. And from the vision of this glorious man, this great English king, an Institution was born. But for the Empire of Man to live eternal, it was necessary to bring it together as one. Machines were set in motion that were, within a few hundred years, to unify the world. However, mankind was not ready for the gift this king and
his descendants had to give, and their careful preparations, which were meant to bring about world peace, instead gave us world war.

  During world wars one and two, it was necessary for The Institute to go underground. The Coordinator, so great was his foresight, was well aware that the people of the Earth would persecute The Institute for the role they inadvertently played in the crucial events leading to the first great wars. They would not see, in their savagery and ignorance, the true nature of the monster, Arch Duke Franz Ferdinand, nor the wondrous vision of The Institute.

  However, thanks to the valiant efforts of The Coordinator, working in secret for all mankind, the allies won the day, and in 1955 The Institute came out of hiding and began over one hundred years of advancement and success which propelled the world to new frontiers, never before imagined. So much good work was done; so many lives were saved by medical advances brought about by Institute research; so much new technology was created that brought us all together in ways previously thought unimaginable. And yet, even The Coordinator could not foresee the terrors of the third world war.

  No one could have imagined the atrocities to which mankind would sink, the evils that would be committed, the destruction that would be wrought. No one ever believed that we would come so close to annihilation. The world needed a scape goat and chose The Institute. Mass arrests, executions, and the theft of property and research materials tore The Institute to shreds. But The Coordinator, far from succumbing to rage, far from being destroyed, accepted this burden as his duty and allowed the loss of the present for the sake of the future.

  Finally, out of the ashes of WWIII, the World Union was born and, in 2150, President Cartwright was elected to office. This man, of true vision, was made aware of the illustrious past and the terrible treatment that The Institute suffered. He made it his personal mission to rebuild The Institute anew, with all the resources and expertise of an International Laboratory.