by Huss, JA
I’m the one doing this but Draden doesn’t look surprised. He just asks, “Do you know how I got here?”
I nod. Because I think I do.
“So… you’re gonna believe me then?”
I nod again.
“I tried to tell Brigit. I tried to get her to leave with me. I’m there.”
“No,” I say. “You’re not Draden. You’re here.”
He shakes his head. And for a second I see little Draden. The kid he was that day we left Wayward. Innocent and young. Scared and brave. Hopeful and hopeless in the same instant. Maybe this is little Draden? Maybe the man I see before me is really just the mind of the child he was when he fell off the lift bot that day when he was thirteen?
“I’m there,” he insists.
“OK,” I say. Because I just want to look at him for a moment. I want to feel these things I’m feeling. The emotions that come to the surface at the sight of him.
A tear slides down my cheek.
“I’m fine,” he says.
I nod. But I don’t agree. None of us are fine. It’s all bullshit.
“We have to get her out of here,” Draden says, looking around.
“She’s already gone,” I say.
“I can’t find her,” Draden says. “I’ve looked everywhere.”
“She’s all right, Draden. I’ll see her soon. She’s with Valor, anyway. He’s taking care of her.”
“It’s just us, you know,” Draden says. “Just us two.” Then he laughs a little. “I’ve been trying so hard to find her.” His face goes serious again. “I think I scared her.”
“It’s OK,” I say. “She’s gonna be OK now.”
We lock eyes for a moment. Because he knows he’s not real. He knows nothing in here is real. And I don’t want him to know that.
“How did I get here?” he asks.
“ALCOR,” I say. “The answer to every question you have, Draden, is always ALCOR.”
“What do I do, Tray? Can you tell me what to do?”
I shake my head and swallow down the lump in my throat. I whisper, “I wish I could, brother. But I just don’t know.”
He starts to fade after that. Mouth moving like he’s still talking. But no words coming out. Eyes wide, like he’s afraid.
He should be afraid. We should all be afraid.
And I’m afraid for him.
Because eventually everything about him disappears and I just don’t know.
I don’t know where he really is. I don’t know why he’s here. I don’t even know which instance of him was in front of me. Not Real Draden, that’s for sure. Real Draden is somewhere far, far away. This is just a copy of this mind that ALCOR put inside my virtual reality.
He’s just another prisoner.
We’re all just a bunch of prisoners.
I don’t know how long I sit there in the grass, overwhelmed with hopelessness. I didn’t miss Draden the way everyone else did. Even Lyra missed him more than I did. She glowed pink for him at the memorial service.
But I’m not the same man I was a year ago. Everything has changed.
I know I have to figure out where I’m at right now and find my way to Brigit and Valor because outside of the world I built time flows in its own way and I probably have no control over it at the moment.
But seeing Draden trapped in here… it hits me hard for some reason. His death—or whatever it was that happened to him back on Cetus Station—that finally sinks in.
He’s dead. Or he’s not and wishes he was.
Because he’s trapped somewhere the way Brigit was trapped. Only he doesn’t have anyone to help him.
I could help him.
But Brigit is waiting.
And even though I love Draden as much as I am able to love people, I want to save Brigit more. She’s been here longer. And I made a promise.
So I get up and start walking. It’s the only answer I can think of that might work. Brigit and Valor are here somewhere, I just need to find them.
Then… then we can go looking for Draden.
I know where the boundaries of my old world are, but it all ends too soon. Like it’s been wiped away. Still, there’s a shimmer of the old world beneath my feet. I’m wearing my regular clothes, the ones I was wearing on the outside, but eventually I cross the boundary of the old world I created and Brigit destroyed and end up in... something else. And at this exact moment, my clothes disappear.
It’s not like I need them. It’s just… kinda… well, I’m not the kind of guy who walks around naked. I’m not embarrassed of my body. It’s actually a nice fucking body for a guy like me who does no manual labor. I look a lot like Luck in the body department.
But I’ve never been comfortable with it. Not since all the muscles started appearing because I have often wondered if my body was just… an illusion. Something I made up, just like I made this place up.
It doesn’t really make sense because even though my outside world could be a simulation, it’s still my reality. Which means I don’t control it. If it is just another layer of virtual, someone else is pulling the strings.
Maybe ALCOR?
Maybe he wanted us all to look like a band of handsome, rugged outlaws so when my teenage body started to mature he helped me out a little?
I don’t know. I just have this sick feeling inside that this isn’t… me.
Me is somewhere else.
And OK. If I think about that too long it starts to make my head spin. Because the real me is somewhere else. I’m on the ship on Angel Station inside a spin node. But is that the real me?
There are just too many layers of what’s real and what’s not to keep them all straight so I give up and stop trying to force it to fit together neatly.
Then, as if another boundary was crossed, I enter a desert. Sand dunes as far as I can see. I don’t need to eat or drink in this world. I don’t even need to sleep. Brigit and I did those things before because it felt normal. And right. It kept things real.
But it’s a long walk across this desert and there’s a part of me that wonders if I should leave the virtual and come back in again, this time with a new destination in mind.
That would eat up real seconds out there though. And seconds out there could be weeks in here. And if I get caught out there for minutes, well… that’s a long time in this place. Plus, what destination? What would I aim for? Not the bed, where I usually appeared. That would just set me back to where I started from.
But even worse, that might take me back to Draden and that whole exchange still bothers me. It hurts to think of him trapped for the last year. Not in here. He cannot be in here. So I don’t know how he got here.
But then again, how did Brigit get here?
So I walk, and walk, and walk and there is no end in sight. No way out of this vast nothingness of sand dunes and hot sun.
There is nothing else to do but leave and try again.
I wake up in the dark reality of the ship, lift the pod’s lid up over my head, and check the counter on the display. Two minutes have passed while I was in there.
Then I notice there’s a soft beeping coming from Brigit’s pod and I get out of my pod and walk over to her, glancing up at the display screen as I go. Her vitals are fine. Heartbeat OK. But her brainwaves are doing something weird.
I glance back at the time counter on my pod and I’m suddenly indecisive.
The longer I stay out here, the more time speeds by in there.
She’s with Valor, I remind myself. She’s not alone. She’s with Valor.
Think, Tray. Think. Think.
I go back to the medical screens on the main console and study her brainwaves and then notice something else on the display. A green glow emanating from deep in the hypothalamus region of her brain. Hormones, I think. I’m no biologist, but I think that part of the brain releases hormones.
I ask for a full scan of neurochemicals in her bloodstream and yes, I’m right. Lots of hormones. Which means lots of feelings in there.
Tha
t’s OK, I decide. It’s not fear hormones. It’s all the pleasure ones.
With that new bit of information I feel better.
Then another beeping sound comes from her pod and I turn around to find her display lit up. Jagged lines run across the interior of her screen.
I turn towards it, wiping away the condensation on her faceplate, and focus.
Sound waves. It looks like a visual representation of sound waves.
What the fuck? Is she getting a message?
We’re inside a sun-fucked spin node. Who could be sending her messages?
I walk over to the medical console and take a seat, fingers tapping frantically on the screens, trying to pull up more information.
But then, just as I pull up the right screen, the waveform stops. The peaks and valleys drop into a flat line.
Gone.
What the hell is happening? Is this normal? Has someone been sending her messages all this time? All these years?
But more importantly, can I decipher it?
Do I have time?
Minutes have passed now. I’ve been out here for minutes.
Indecision is not an emotion I’m very familiar with. I am a quick decision-maker. I see all possible outcomes the way an AI sees them. I know things before I even know how I know things.
But I don’t know what to do now.
Stay here and figure out this mysterious message?
Or go back inside, grab her, and bring her out with me?
What if it’s a trap? What if Valor is right? What if releasing her unleashes a virus or something worse?
I have to decipher the message. It’s the only way to be sure. They will just have to wait for me.
Valor is in there. She’s not alone.
So I get to work. My fingers tap out commands and lines of code. I get inside her cryopod, find that yes, there is a comms system, but it’s empty and non-functional, then go looking deeper into her biologicals, looking for something akin to an air-screen implant like the kind we use on Harem. I find one, not in her finger, but implanted just behind her ear.
I should have done all this first, I realize. I should have done much more than this before I ever went inside. But I was too worried about her. Too anxious to get her out here with me.
Once I find the hardware, it’s easy to hack into the software. There are thousands of messages and the sick feeling I get when I realize this makes me want to vomit.
But then I see something else on the screens in front of me. Something I missed when I first sat down.
Her clock. It’s running slower than it should.
Oh, suns. What’s happening?
I glance at the pod clock. An hour has passed. I run the calculations in my head and find that years have passed inside since I’ve been fucking around out here.
Years.
OK, this shit has to stop. I need to concentrate. I need to get a handle on what’s happening.
Messages. That’s the number one priority. I go digging. I crash all the firewalls that have been set up and finally, I have a name from the sender.
Corla.
I lean back in my chair and sigh.
OK. Corla. I can deal with Corla. If it had been Veila or someone I didn’t know, this would be much, much worse. But Corla is still on our side.
Right?
I have to believe she is.
My fingers tap play and the words spill out. Long description of Corla’s days. Babbling words about the virtual she’s stuck in.
She’s a prisoner too, I realize. And somehow she and Brigit are connected.
But these messages go back decades. Probably to right after Delphi was born. And Brigit never mentioned Corla. Or any messages.
So there’s only two possible explanations.
She never got them.
Or she’s lying.
I get up from my seat, walk back over to my cryopod, get in, shut the lid, and tap the start protocol on the face plate screen.
There’s only one way to find out. Go back inside and ask.
This time I don’t aim for the old world. I take my time as I enter and visualize Valor. He’s my anchor. He’s how I will find Brigit.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - BRIGIT
All the emotions I wanted to feel, but suppressed, come rushing out of me like a wave that would flood the world and wipe it clean. Fear and loneliness. Sadness and anger. It just pours out of me.
“Brigit,” Valor consoles. “It’s OK. I’m here. You’re OK. Tray’s coming.”
But Tray isn’t here yet. I am not going to turn down his brother’s company. I’d take anyone at this point. I didn’t realize that until just this moment, but it’s true. If that Draden guy came back and made me that offer again, I’d leave. I would.
I can’t stay here anymore. I will go crazy.
When? That’s all I want to know. Just… when will it end? And I realize I’m having a crisis. Of faith, maybe? In me, or Tray, or maybe everyone. Of confidence?
Did I ever believe it? Did I ever really think that he would get me out of here?
No.
I really didn’t.
And that’s when I realize what this strange, never-felt-before emotion is.
Relief.
“Did you hear me?” Valor asks.
I shake my head because I think a long time has passed since he took me in his arms.
“We should… go inside. Get something to eat.”
“We don’t need to eat,” I mutter. I slump down in the sand, naked, fingers grabbing it in handfuls, but of course it spills over and slips away. Slips away like time does. Like life.
“I know we don’t need to eat,” Valor says. “I know almost as much about living in a virtual as Tray does.”
I glance up at him and shoot him a dubious look.
He smiles and shrugs. “I said almost.”
He kneels down beside me and puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. Just the slightest of squeezes. And what can I say about his touch? How can I describe the feeling that rushes through my body when he makes contact?
It’s been so long. So damn long since someone touched me.
I want to curl up into his chest and be held and I can’t wait for an invitation. I can’t stand one more moment of this all-encompassing aloneness.
So I wrap my arms around his waist and place my forehead against his chest, and hold my breath. Daring to hope that he will hold me.
He does. There is no hesitation. He holds me tight and kisses my head, and whispers, “You’re OK,” into my ear over and over again. “You’re OK. You’re OK. You’re OK.”
We stay like that for a long time. I don’t know how long. Maybe it isn’t long. Maybe it’s a single moment and nothing else. But he hugs me and comforts me.
Eventually, I’m lying on the sand again. And when I close my eyes it feels like I made it all up. That maybe my imagination got away with me and it’s not real.
But when I open my eyes to check, he’s still there. Lying next to me. Basking in the hot afternoon sun that I made.
“How long, Brigit? How long have you been here?”
I like the way he says my name. “I don’t know anymore. Surely, several eternities?”
He breathes out in a way that makes me think he’s smiling. A little huff of air that says… That’s cute. Or maybe just sad. “You’re safe now.”
I don’t say anything to that. Because I can’t be safe if I’m still here. I need to be out there.
“What should we do while we wait? Hmm? Swim? You have a very nice beach here.”
I nod, but say nothing. How long will it take for Tray to arrive? Maybe this is all a hallucination? Maybe I’ve lost my mind and now I’m just making people up?
“How do I know you’re real?” I ask. “How do I know he’s really coming?”
“Well…” Valor pauses. He thinks. He thinks for a good long time. What could he tell me that I don’t already know, but that would still be able to convince me that he’s not a product of a si
ck and lonely mind? Finally he says, “I can’t make promises, I guess. We have a plan, you’re part of it, and I think it’s gonna work. But I don’t know, Brigit. In here I don’t know any more than you do.”
It’s the truth. And it’s nice to hear it for once.
“OK,” I say, suddenly tired. The sun is going down and we’re all sweaty from the heat, sand sticking to us like it’s real. And I crave a swim and then all I want to do is go to sleep until Tray arrives.
But I don’t want Valor to leave me. I don’t want to take my eyes off Valor for fear that he will disappear, so I invite him to swim with me. And after we swim we pick berries. He talks. A lot. And makes me smile. And he tells me all about his life on the outside. He tells me about Harem Station where they live. And what he does inside the Pleasure Prison. My prison. It’s weird hearing someone I don’t know talk about my prison.
He has sex in there. And kills people. Fake people. Virtual people.
He tells me about the places he and his other brother, Luck, have gone in real life. Long-forgotten sectors that hold long-forgotten stations. He talks about their ship, and the bot they had before she was killed. And ALCOR.
Lots of things Tray never mentioned.
Long after the sun has set and the stars come out I create a bed for him and we sleep in the hut. There’s a part of me that wants to climb into his bed, but I don’t. I don’t want it to be like that with Valor. I don’t want to make him some substitute for Tray.
Because he’s not.
In the morning I ask him if he wants clothes.
He declines.
And then we start a new day.
I show him how I pass the time waiting for Tray. We walk and walk until we reach the edge of the world and he watches me make something new. We stay out there for long stretches of time, sleeping on the ground at first, but I am the goddess of this place so I conjure up a tent and sleeping mats. And we pack it up and take it with us on the backs of large pack animals he helped me imagine.
It’s an endless cycle of what I can only call… contentment.
He makes me happy. And I think I make him happy too.
Eventually we come back to the beach. It feels like home when we return and he feels like a friend I just had a great adventure with.