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Clay (Episode One of Farther Than We Dreamed)

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by Noah Mullette-Gillman

Session 24

  Charlie woke up again. He lay on his back. The first thing that he noticed was that his beard was gone. He reached up and ran his fingers over his jaw and cheeks. It had been years since he’d been clean-shaven.

  His hand happened to move over his nose, and Charlie was surprised to see that his nose had been straightened as well. That seemed a vain waste to him. Who cared if he had a proper nose or not? Besides, he’d earned his scars.

  He opened his eyes. At first everything was purple and blue. It took a while for his eyes to adjust and work properly again. The room was white. It was shaped like a dome and filled with classical statues. And there was a man sitting in a chair next to where Charlie was lying.

  His hair was red, but filthy and shoved roughly away from his face. He wore antique glasses and a tweed jacket. He looked to Charlie like an academic. Maybe a Scandinavian? The stranger was reading through a hand-written notebook.

  The stranger smiled politely. “Do you remember your name?”

  “I’m Charlie Daemon. Where are we?”

  “Is this reality?”

  Charlie growled and then answered, “I have no idea.”

  “Do you know where we are?” the man asked.

  “I just asked you.” Charlie was losing his patience.

  “I’m very sorry. Please. I am required to test you. Now, do you know where we are?”

  “Obviously not. Is this a spaceship?”

  “Don’t strain yourself.”

  Charlie hadn’t moved, but the man held out a hand, as if to tell him not to get up. The stranger looked tired. Charlie wondered why he was being asked these questions. Were they making sure that he had arrived on the ship without losing his mind? How dangerous was being sent on a radio signal across the cosmos? Or had he been hurt and they needed to test him? Then again, maybe he was still back on Earth. Was this man his psychiatrist? That might make more sense than anything else.

  “Can I just ask you, how long have I been a patient here?”

  The stranger didn’t immediately answer.

  “I’m sorry. I know you have your protocols, but if you can just tell me that, I’ll answer any questions you want. We can talk about reality, my parents, the war, or anything you want.”

  The stranger seemed to be put a little off-balance by Charlie’s question. “Just- just two more questions and then I’ll be allowed to explain.”

  “Alright.” Charlie made himself comfortable and did his best to appear docile.

  “Is this the first time we’ve spoken, Charlie?”

  The captain turned his head forty-five degrees and puffed up his upper lip, to show he was taking the question seriously. “I don’t know. I just don’t know the answer.”

  The stranger scribbled for about five seconds before he spoke again. “And, Charlie, one last question: What do you remember from before you woke up?”

  “Just my life. I didn’t dream.”

  “Yes, and how did your life end?”

  “End? Well, I’m obviously not dead. I guess you mean my old life? They recruited me on my way back from the war. We took out The Machine in Alaska. I may have been the only survivor of the fight. At least, that’s how I remember it.”

  “Who recruited you, Charlie?”

  “I guess - I guess I’m confused. Did I hit my head? The way I remember it, I was walking back and there was this bear. This bear shows up, like Buddha or Gabriel and tells me that my life is an illusion. He tells me that my real life is about to begin and I’m going to be the captain of a spaceship. But obviously - obviously that can’t be true. Can it, doc?”

  “What did he tell you about the ship?”

  “Nothing.”

  “The crew?”

  “The bear didn’t get to that. It’s funny, I remember it that way, but I understand that it can’t be real.”

  “You don’t remember anything.” It wasn’t a question. The man was clearly frustrated.

  “I’m sorry. Why don’t you tell me what’s really happening?”

  The man nodded. Before Charlie realized what was going on, he had been injected in the shoulder with a needle.

  He closed his eyes and then he opened them again. The room was suddenly filled with purples and blues and strange under-colors which he couldn’t right then name. He imagined that it was what it would look like if he drowned far under-water. He took a deep breath and died with his lungs full of air.

 

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