by M M Buckner
Lying on my belly, I had to muscle my way in with elbows and feet. The sharp little stalagmites chewed through my musketeer uniform like teeth. At least the floor was dry. The seepage that had caused these formations must have turned to dust ages ago. Soon, I felt a blast of wind and turned my face to avoid the flying grit Jin moved in beside me. I could hear the scrabbling noises he made, and that gave me comfort.
Side by side, we pushed through the horizontal fissure for what seemed like hours, wending through the stalactite columns, fighting the stinging headwind that grew stronger as we went. My nose started running, and my eyes streamed tears. I had to use my sleeve as a handkerchief.
The fissure was not table-flat. It rose and fell like the space between two crumpled quilts. Sometimes we climbed almost straight up, and other times we slid headfirst down dusty hillocks. Occasionally the ceiling height increased a little—though never enough to let us crawl on hands and knees. Twice, the ceiling dropped so low, I had to exhale all the breath from my lungs to squeeze through. Jin wouldn’t have made it if he hadn’t lost so much weight. Ça va, what a place for a surfer girl.
“Can we rest?” I asked, at a point where the ceiling rose a little.
Unaccountably, Jin starting laughing. Soon, his laughter grew hectic, and he spoke through gasps, “Judith’s coming. I can hear her heartbeat.”
Judith Merida! I sucked a breath and scrambled forward, but Jin gripped my wrist. “Relax, Jolie. She’s a long way off. We can rest a while. Judith’s not a threat to us.”
“If she catches you—”
“Jolie, your fear stabs my head. Please calm down.”
He shifted in the narrow space, then held very still. I knew he was listening to something I couldn’t hear. Something real, or just a maniacal song in his brain, how could I know? As quietly as possible, I drew a deep breath and tried to shut down my alarm. Gusts whistled through the fissure, and in the wan light radiating from Jin’s forehead, I saw a tiny needle-shaped stalagmite rising from the floor between my outstretched fingers. It looked like a time-frozen rocket launch. For how many centuries had it been forming? Was I the first to see it? I counted my breaths and waited for my heartbeat to slow, but I couldn’t keep silent forever. “Jin?”
“Yes?” he said with a distracted air. His face had begun to glow brighter. He must have been concentrating very hard.
“There’s something I’ve always wondered about.”
“Yes, angel?” Jin was studying the patterns of nubby stalactites above his head as if he could hear them growing.
I shook his knee to get his attention. “That movie you made that got banned from the Net. What was that about?”
“Movie?” He glanced at me with a puzzled expression. “I’d forgotten it. Why do you care, pet?”
“Curiosity,” I said. “Tell me.”
“It was a documentary. Based on an eleventh-century Javanese poem called ‘Arjunavivaha’.” He touched his tongue to one of the little stalactites and made a wry face.
“But why was it banned?” I persisted.
Jin frowned and blinked his eyes, as if the effort to remember troubled him. Then he recited in a singsong chant, “There was once a coastal kingdom, long ago in Java. Green trees waved in gentle breezes. And blue ocean broke on white sand. It could have been paradise.”
He paused so long, I had to prompt him. “So then one day…?”
With a brief smile, he continued. “Then one day, Sumatran pirates murdered the Javanese king and enslaved the people. The king’s son-in-law escaped into the jungle, where he lived with vagabonds and searched for understanding of Krishna’s plan. His name was Prince Airlangga.” Jin winked at me when he mentioned that name. Then he broke off a bit of the stalactite and rolled it between his fingers. “Instead of enlightenment though, Airlangga found the jungle was full of hunger and filth and disease. So in frustration, he took up arms to drive the Sumatrans away by force. But on the day Airlangga went to war, he recognized one of the pirates as his own father. And he couldn’t fight.”
Jin crushed the bit of stone between his fingers. I watched the dust sift to the floor. He seemed lost in thought.
“But that wasn’t the end,” I said, hopefully.
As if he’d forgotten my presence, Jin glanced at me in surprise. “No, it wasn’t. The story goes that the prince prayed for guidance, and the great god Krishna revealed himself in a vision. Krishna said, ‘Rise, Airlangga. Take back my kingdom, and make my people safe’.”
“So he did,” I said. “Airlangga drove the pirates away.”
“Yes. And afterward, he ruled Java in peace for 30 years. That part is historically true. When he died, the Javanese people laid him to rest at Belahan, under a carving of Vishnu, the preserver of the universe.”
Belahan. I remembered that name. Jin had asked me about the carvings of Belahan on the very first day we met.
“I get it. You’re Prince Airlangga, and your father’s the Sumatran priate. It’s one of those political flicks.”
Jin’s bitter laughter echoed in the narrow space. “I never had a chance to finish the last scene. But I still have my working tapes. They’re stored in a public mailbox at Tokyo Data. Someday, a hacker will stumble onto them, and then we’ll see.”
I laid my cheek flat on the stone floor and snuffled dust. Poor Jin.
Abruptly his laughter choked off, and his next words came out more sober. “Jolie, you pity me.”
“Uh…”
“You think my obsession with my father is pitiable.” He remained silent a moment. The light in his face flickered like a candle. Then he drew me into his arms. “Come here, pet. It’s interesting, seeing myself through another person’s thoughts. Light refracted through a new kind of prism.” His fingers moved steadily through my hair, but he was talking to himself. “I know it’s a waste of time to care what Father thinks about me. The truth is, he doesn’t think about me at all.”
“You’re wrong,” I said, remembering my encounter with Suradon. “He thinks about you a lot. What’s between you and him? Why did he underwrite this crazy experiment?”
Jin twirled a strand of my hair-round and round his finger. “The second question is easier to answer. Father invested in Hyperthought because he hopes to gain profit for Pacific.Com. That’s the reason for everything he does.”
“Freaky old pervert,” I said.
Jin sighed. “My father treats everything as a joke—everything except Pacific.Com. He’s deadly serious about his Com. He needs cash flow, and I knew he would see profit in Judith’s Hyperthought.”
“And your brain’s the prototype? You’re the beta version? Oh, that makes sense.” My temper was rising. This whole scheme sounded more and more insane.
“He and Judith made a bet,” Jin said calmly. “Of course, Father set it up so he can’t lose. If Judith’s nanobot works, he’ll underwrite her global expansion—but Pacific.Com takes the profits. If Judith fails, she’s put up her own labor contract as collateral, and she’ll have to work off her debt. Can you picture that? Fiery little Judith serving as Father’s prote? You see how twisted he is?”
“You must hate him!”
“Relax, Jolie.” Jin kissed the top of my head. “I can’t decide what I feel. Perhaps they haven’t invented the word for what’s between Father and me. I only know we’re bound together.” He ruffled my hair and kissed me again.
I wanted nothing better than to hide in Jin’s arms forever. But my mind kept veering back to Merida. She wouldn’t be far behind. Now that I knew about her infernal bet with Suradon, I felt even more frightened. Merida would never let herself be anyone’s slave. She’d be driven by desperation to win that bet. I could almost taste her fury at me for getting in her way. Sharp and acrid, like the gritty toxic dust that lined my nostrils and burned my eyes. The dust that might already be killing us.
“Jolie, my angel, there’s no reason to fear death.” Jin combed my hair with his fingers. Then he drew me closer and held my head in hi
s hands and kissed my mouth. He shifted me slowly in his arms and pressed the whole length of his body against mine.
Despite our situation, female urges flared up and down me like bursts of heat. “I know,” he murmured, gently ripping open the Velcro plackets of my musketeer uniform. He was wearing only the thin hospital wrapper, and the snaps easily came undone.
Why, you might ask, did we pick this particular moment to make love? Me, I’ve always been a spontaneous person, and making love with Jin was exactly what I’d been longing for since I’d left his bed in Godthaab. Jin brought me to life. Nothing mattered to me at that moment but the feel of his skin against mine. The whole planet might have burst inside out like a big kernel of popcorn, and I wouldn’t have noticed. Jin thrust into me with a strong, steady rhythm. We grappled together sideways in the narrow space, and he bucked me against the rock till my hip bled, but I barely noticed. Pleasure overwhelmed every other sensation. We cried out in unison. It was as if we shared one mind.
Afterward, as we lay panting in a sweaty tangle, he pressed his forehead to my cheek, and I felt a bright, tingling shock of electricity. Then he pulled away. And it was over.
We didn’t speak for a while. I heard him snapping his hospital wrapper, so I wriggled back into my uniform and did up the plackets. I felt full to the brim and totally satiated and—abandoned. How can I explain this? Jin’s warm, breathing body still lay within arm’s reach. We’d just shared the most magnificent sex of my life. My crotch was still quivering, and the sweat hadn’t even dried on my skin. Yet I knew with absolute certainty that Jin had gone away from me, and that he might never come back. He had returned to those noises that were haunting him, that singing of the universe or of his own deluded brain.
I couldn’t stop the tears that welled in my burning eyes or the sick hurt that settled in my gut. Damned female hormones! The worst was, I couldn’t cover my feelings. Jin could read my thoughts if he wanted. But he was lying very rigid, almost holding his breath, and I knew he wasn’t listening to my silly woes.
“Is Merida closer?” I asked, because I had to say something—maybe just to remind Jin of my existence.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Let’s go now. The chamber is just ahead.”
16
Quite Beautiful, Realty
WE BELLY-CRAWLED UP another dusty ridge, and just as we heaved over the top, a scent of ozone burned my nostrils, and a pale blue light glimmered ahead. Far in the distance, I could see the end of the fissure, and beyond it—flashes of lightning.
“Don’t worry about Judith Merida. She’s no threat to us.” Jin hauled himself over that last ridge and hurtled down the other side with extraordinary energy. I followed as fast as I could.
“We used each other, Judith and I. Fair bargain. She got what she wanted. Her nanobot performed as promised. Ha-ha, I feel my brain evolving. Soon I’ll perceive with crystal clarity. I’ll know why I was put here and what action to take.”
The closer we got to that lightning, the more unnatural Jin’s voice sounded. He slurred sentences together, and his sweet Pacific accent edged to sibilance. “Ha, I hear proteins unfolding. I smell neurotransmitters washing through my cortex. Jolie, I can move calcium ions by conscious command. Ha ha ha!” He clambered down the slope unbelievably fast, throwing up little puffs of dust with his hands and feet.
I crawled after him, panting. “Jin, slow down.”
“Oh yes, you’re right, pet. I’m a bit manic now. It’s a temporary condition. I’m penetrating the atomic level. Soon—ha ha ha—the quanta! Judith’s nanobots are working. My father will have to build her clinics around the world!”
When I finally caught up, he was breathing so fast, his nose made little snorting sounds. He started giggling, I mean actually giggling. “Lord Suradon Sura. Oops! You lose! Your son can hear the quanta! He-he-he. Jolie, you’ll tell him, yes? You’ll keep your promise and tell my father?”
“Jin!” I tried to grab his ankle, but he moved too fast for me. He chortled like a demented stranger.
“Look at this, Jolie. Luminous minerals in the rock. Even you must be able to see this wavelength.”
It was true. The fissure widened out into a large, almost spherical chamber with glowing blue walls. I stood up and rubbed my legs to work out the cramps. Cold wind whistled through, wafting a harsh electric smell that made me sneeze half a dozen times in a row. Just as the wind hushed to dead silence, veins of bright electricity crackled through the air. Their brilliant strobes etched afterimages in my retinas. I tried not to rub my stinging eyes because that just made the pain worse.
When the lightning stopped, wind gusted again, whipping my hair and clothing. A low, warbling roar set up and slowly intensified. The cold wind seemed to ricochet around the chamber like a living spirit, echoing with harmonics until the very air resonated with its sound. Abruptly, the wind died and the lightning crackled again. The wind and lightning seemed to alternate in a steady one-two pulse.
“This is the focal point,” Jin said, gazing about with open delight. “This chamber, the strange attracter, the exact center of incipience. This is where I must be.”
In the blue glow, I saw his emaciated body dart forward with shocking speed and race down the curving floor. His long hair streamed back over his shoulders. Confused, I stumbled after him, but the floor was slick with moisture, and the alternating wind and fireworks disoriented me. I tripped and slid head first down to the lowest point of the chamber, landing in a heap at Jin’s feet. He didn’t notice. He was gazing at the light show overhead—and listening.
“This place is full of bacteria. Clever creatures. Quite beautiful, really. They’ve mutated to survive the toxic chemicals leaching through the rock strata.”
“Are they dangerous?” I asked.
“To humans? Oh yes. Lethal.”
I yelped in alarm. “Where are they?”
“In your lungs, in your eyes, in your vulva. They’re everywhere, Jolie. Forty-two distinct tribes of them.”
I struggled to my feet and clutched his hand. “Jin, I’m so sorry I’ve exposed you to this. Forgive me.”
He patted my shoulder. “Your fear is misplaced, pet. You haven’t endangered me. The instant I recognized the bacteria, my brain manufactured an immune response. A teratrillion new nanobots patrol my system now. The bacteria won’t harm me. Jolie, my body can live forever if I choose.”
“Can you make an immune response for me, Jin?”
“For you?” His eyebrows knotted. He seemed confused by my question. He swayed and rubbed his forehead. “You’re not like me, Jolie. The bacteria have already invaded your organs. A pattern has set up. An exquisite fractal pattern of decay and new birth. Your body is host, and the bacteria are so lively. I wish you could hear them, pet.”
He turned away, and I had to scramble around to stand in front of him again. “This immune response, Jin, could I get it from your saliva? Maybe you could kiss me.”
He waved his hand. “You, me, the bacteria, even the rocks, we interact in a web of fractal branching. It’s beautiful, Jolie.”
“Maybe this immune stuff is in your bloodstream,” I said. “Could I bite you just a little? The earlobe, say? Just to break the skin. You’d hardly feel it.”
Jin tugged absently at his wrapper, and his eyes hazed in thought. He draped his arms around me in an absentminded way. “Jolie, how can I make you understand? Would you kill Luc, even to save your own life? No, you wouldn’t. Well, the bacteria are your brothers, too. If I save you, the bacteria inside you will perish. Can that be right?”
I said, “Huh?”
“You’re asking me to choose who lives and dies. I can’t make that choice,” he said.
When he let me go, I reeled unsteadily from the sudden loss of support. My skin felt funny, sort of tingly. I heard Jin mumbling to himself in broken phrases. His words blended with the droning wind until I couldn’t tell them apart. All I could do was stand there, weaving in the gusts and wondering: Did he just say w
hat I think he said?
Did he just say he wouldn’t share that immune response? He wouldn’t save me? He wouldn’t choose my life over some scuzzy germs?
Rage and shock and grief got all mixed up, and every square centimeter of my skin prickled with heat. I wanted to shake Jin’s broad, scrawny shoulders till his teeth rattled. I wanted to scream at him: Save me, you arrogant prick, because I’m trying to save you!
But I didn’t scream. I just stood there choking on mucus and wiping my eyes with my sleeve. That wasn’t my Jin, I told myself. It couldn’t be. Merida’s demon nanobots had possessed his brain. If he were himself, he would do anything for me, just as I would do anything for him. The amount of love I felt couldn’t be all on one side. Don’t ask me what part of my brain concluded that. I just believed it. I needed to believe. In the squalling wind, I whispered, “It’s not your fault.”
The next instant, his voice rang inside my head. “Be my witness, Jolie.”
The wind had changed. Its roar had begun to rise and fall in an irregular pattern. The lightning as well. The two phenomena pulsed out of sync now, sometimes in opposition, sometimes in unison. Shadows flickered through the chamber, and the blue walls seemed to breathe inward.
Jin drew a pattern in the air, and a million electric bolts shot out from his fingertip. They arced through the chamber like brilliant blue veins and throbbed in a steady cadence. More veins of light radiated from Jin’s hand, filling the air with a lacy web. The light strobed so painfully bright, I huddled down on the floor and ground my palms into my swollen eye sockets, but I couldn’t block it out.
Then the wind growled, and looked up. The blue veins shattered into billions of sparkling pixels that danced before my eyes. They saturated the air with witchy little explosions of blue. He lifted his hand, and the pixels gusted away in a wave, like sparks caught in a wind. Jin moved his hand again, and the glowing particles surged farther away. A sphere of empty air widened around him. A third time, his gesture hurled the blue sparkles against the chamber walls, where they splashed like radiant paint.