by H C Turk
“I can’t feel my feet,” he replied, slowly turning, looking toward the parlor floor.
She watched him turn as though an old man having lost his slippers. This state seemed normal to Kathlynn, who was losing more than her apparel. She could barely concentrate. What to do next? Where to go? Parno’s stiff discomfort did not fill her with sympathy. They had to get out of that hell. The tenderness in her feet was unnerving. She was being dissolved. They had to get out of that hell. They had to….
“I left three environ abettor parcels in here,” Parno said, “but they’re gone. The floor must have cleaned them.”
“Unless the ghost knows how to use them now.”
“I think I know how to use the suits in the guidance cell,” Parno told her. “They’re all the stronger type, work suits.”
“They’re all full of people,” Kathlynn pointed out.
“I think I learned how to open them, empty them, use them.”
“You’re still learning? I don’t think I am.”
“It’s odd,” he said. “I feel that I’m learning things I can’t always specify.”
Kathlynn tried not to look down to her feet. Instead, she closed her eyes.
“Then what?” she had to ask.
Parno’s response was to move toward the guidance cell door in a type of dragging motion.
“I feel we’ll learn when we do it.”
They passed through the panel with no difficulty. This ribbon conveyed them effortlessly. Not having to walk, not having to move their injured limbs and sore feet, was a blessing delivered by the spirits of relief. For those alien-norm minutes of travel, neither person spoke, attempting to recuperate, unable to stop thinking.
After thinking too much, Kathlynn had to panic.
“Parno! I don’t even know what’s broken inside, and I’m burned and melted—why doesn’t it feel even worse?”
In that moment, the fear on her face hurt him more than his injuries. And he thanked the spirits of righteousness that Kathlynn’s panic did not cause his own.
“Space vaccines include pain assuaging elements,” he stated calmly. “And anti-shock protocols.”
She only stared a moment before saying, “Oh.”
Her face calmed, despite retaining a miserable expression. Parno tried to reach out to take her hand, but didn’t really know where she was.
Once arriving at the guidance cell, Parno might enter a suit of ashes, achieving from the gritty corpse its fetid understanding of immortality. He might challenge the ghost ends again, now armed with attire that evinced no metaphysical abilities offering to save him.
Upon entering the guidance cell, Kathlynn found no initiative. Following Parno as he stepped inside, Kathlynn felt that she was waiting, not learning, but waiting for what?
They saw nothing new inside. If only due to their injured condition, the Earthers felt no solemn aspect to this incidental cemetery, and would feel no remorse from emptying these upright coffins.
Parno moved directly to the nearest work suit. He moved directly, but slowly, feeling a frightening numbness from the waist down, though his legs continued to function.
Before Parno could touch the suit, he noticed the light in the chamber dim, and wondered about a power outage. That happened a lot in his granddad’s shack in the woods. But the lights in this vessel were certainly not powered by electricity, just as the darkness was certainly powered by death.
Kathlynn stepped behind Parno, her toes so tender that she could not remove a scowl from her face. Approaching Parno as he stopped, she forced her face to relax. She did not want her weakness to upset him.
As Kathlynn walked, the walls and floor darkened, then sagged, revealing the truth of the increasing dimness. When all light is lost from life, dimness equals death.
The ceiling bulged downward. The walls drooped, drooling a darker, foamy residue suggestive of a vital fluid from within.
Parno stared at the nearest upright work suit, hoping to open it with new learning. He wobbled not from his injuries, but because the floor beneath him was becoming liquid.
“We have to leave now, Parno!” Kathlynn cried.
She jerked to a stop with such ferocity that pain from her back momentarily obliterated her senses. Having lost her breath, she could not cry out. But she still managed to move, reaching to grasp Parno’s shoulders just as the function retainer before him split open, greasy ashes falling to the liquifying floor.
Whirling, Parno grabbed Kathlynn and thrust her, face first, against the now-empty suit. As nearby parts of the ceiling fell in silent, wet clumps, the suit closed around Kathlynn. Stepping to the adjacent suit, Parno arrived as it opened. In the next moment, he and Kathlynn tried to rush away, each ensconced in alien protective wear.
Their only movement was vertical. Falling together, they sank into the semisolid floor. The disintegrating material did not slosh around them like liquid, but the Earthers had to fight their way through hot gel. After Parno and Kathlynn rearranged their limbs so they did not entangle each other, they turned to the entry panel, pulling and pressing themselves along, not swimming, not walking, not panicked, proceeding uniquely through that common medium of fear.
An inky residue rose to Parno’s chin. A terrific fear then struck him, removing all of his strength, his intent, his will. He did not fear drowning in hot alien slush, but the opening ahead seemed so small. He would have to crawl up, as though escaping from a box. This box had a frothy, impenetrable lid that would seal him inside, inside a hole of claustrophobic black, trapped in a dark chamber of dying.
Panicked into action, Parno pulled himself up onto the ribbon, Kathlynn beside him, their shoulders and elbows clashing. Collapsing to her side, Kathlynn felt the terror of suffocating, for she gasped and gasped, but no breath came. Then she coughed harshly, gaining some air as a revolting taste left her mouth. She did not reach to wipe her lips, lacking the strength. The idea struck her that she should move, for her face lay on a hot, steaming, dissolving mass of alien material: her function retainer. She might have been inhaling it.
Parno tried to rise, but could only lift his shoulders. In those first few seconds, he was filled with renewing relief from having escaped that black box squeezing against his spirit like a demon’s fist. Then he felt the hot swamp he had brought along. Not acute enough in his mind or emotions to be startled, Parno nonetheless felt a type of wonder from grasping the depth of his injuries yet feeling so little pain. In death, he knew, one feels nothing. Unless a ghost. That spirit feels unsettled agony forever.
Steam filled the function retainer and scalded his head. Feeling a liquid fire crawl along his face, Parno had to close his eyes. He did not think that he was breathing enough to retain consciousness, but did not find unconsciousness a terror. Lifting his shoulders, he reached to touch the front of his suit. He had to flex his wrist and stretch his shoulder unnaturally, for his elbow would not bend. Swollen and twisted, his arm did not seem his own, removed by that alien state of intense injury. Then the dissolving material fell away, and Parno felt the chill of clean air wash his face.
Though Parno and Kathlynn could not focus on each other, they began crawling from the hot morass simultaneously. They pulled themselves along one Earth-alien body length before collapsing, hoping for nothing but a better breath, and less pain, in the upcoming moment.
The world was Parno’s face. After many breaths, several minutes, one indiscernible moment, Kathlynn could open her eyes. She lay so near Parno that his face filled her vision. She wondered of the unclarity in his features. Was focusing so difficult for her, or had his face begun dissolving? She saw actual injury to the world’s surface she viewed. The lids of Parno’s left eye had fused shut as though repaired by his body vessel; not healed, but patched to keep the ruined material inside.
In this same manner, they were healing from the ghost.
A tiny era followed in which they did nothing but feel as little as possible, allowing the ribbon to move them along. Still sh
ocked from the extreme alteration of their physical condition, these bodies merely traveled, the people hoping to heal.
Neither person considered speaking. Parno understood that some change in their situation had transpired, understood that he should look. Opening one eye, he saw a mannequin. Kathlynn’s brownish skin was now red, as though burnished. All of the skin on Kathlynn’s head seemed polished, including her scalp, which was visible now that her hair had been dissolved, including her eyebrows and lids.
She looked at him now, her strength manifested as an expression of curiosity. Kathlynn did not wait to die from her injuries. She proved herself alive by wondering of Parno. She waited as he stared. Parno saw no irreparable damage to her face, though bloody mucus dripped from one nostril. Her mouth twitched; Kathlynn could not separate her lips. She breathed raggedly through her nose and the corners of her mouth. Kathlynn waited, and Parno looked past.
Lifting his head, Parno wanted to gag or retch, not from the experiences he had left behind, but from the residuals he carried. His throat and sinuses seemed clogged with rancid water. Not wondering of that unopenable eye, he looked along the ribbon conveyer, seeing the parlor entry dead ahead.
They had to stand. Parno did not contemplate the difficulty; he rose to his knees. He heard a strange, discomforting sound, which was coming from his throat. He did not understand, and could not contemplate, why this audible reaction to his injuries was more disconcerting than the injuries themselves. Then he understood that the numbness he felt was an overload of combined pains: he could feel no more.
With louder, sharper winces, Kathlynn stood beside him. Having been pummeled less than Parno, she was skeletally stronger. Though Parno was bent at several skeletal points in different directions, he managed to stand. Kathlynn saw that his skin was no better than hers. Since his coverall was tattered, Kathlynn could see Parno’s raw flesh oozing blood. He had streaks of gritty black against his body, as though dark scum left on the sand from dirty waves achieving the shore.
If they continued, would the sea of air through which they traveled be stained? Not tainted by flora, but by alien blood.
The parlor entry opened normally, revealing no horror inside. The horror tried to enter. Since they could not stand alone, the Earthers leaned together, mutually preventing collapse. Kathlynn placed one arm around Parno’s waist, and her skin adhered. They began walking in the sense of dragging themselves along. Parno’s armpit pressed down against Kathlynn’s shoulder. Kathlynn found stability here, despite the added weight. After several uncertain steps, they achieved a rhythm, imperfect in cadence but secure. Had they moved more rapidly, they might have stumbled on each other. At this rate of travel, they would fall more quickly than they walked.
Several slow paces later, Kathlynn felt a pain in her feet that took her breathing, causing such a shudder throughout her body that even Parno was shaken. What had she stepped on that caused such agony? was her thought. Then came understanding. She had not stepped on an item, but stepped off her flesh. Kathlynn now walked on bone. Each step caused a grimace of such intensity that Kathlynn’s bonded lips were split apart. She saw a tooth fall from her open mouth. Soon the grimaces came before each step, predictive of further torture. Each of these small predictions came true.
Behind, the melting threat stopped at the closed parlor door, unable to enter, lacking sufficient life. In this race,the dying material had no interest in its rate, but the living humans intended to prevail, encouraged by the spirits of survival.
In no position to deliberate, the Earthers walked together toward the same goal. Inside the passage hub, Parno and Kathlynn did not change their state. They did not collapse, aware that they would have to rise again. They did not slow and rest, lest they lose their balance and fall. They did not rush ahead, for they moved at the only rate their injuries would allow. The only other rate was nothing.
Kathlynn did not release Parno, because she knew her flesh would not follow.
Scarcely opening his mouth, barely breathing, Parno spoke the most sensible word in their world:
“Smelter.”
Understanding the idea, Kathlynn tried to call out her favorite word, but could not speak her lover’s name.
Without further words, they would implement their final plan. Only one parlor door showed that third dimension of vitality. Parno and Kathlynn would enter the chamber of false clouds and fake pleasure. Proceeding at an injured rate of escape, they crossed the parlor.
Parlor, not lobby. Lobbies are for passage within a place of business. People always want to leave a lobby. If graced by the spirits of departure, people might pass away pleasantly in their parlors.
Not if they could fall asleep forever floating through clouds.
Not if they could burn a hole out of hell. Anywhere they fell would be better.
With unusable arms and feet lacking flesh, Kathlynn would not be pressing the panel open. Unable to flex his shoulders, Parno bent at the neck, his forehead dropping against the panel as though he dozed off into a dream of despair.
The door dilated properly, and no horror followed. Terror, torture, and longing pained them to their spirits, but Parno and Kathlynn rejected despair. As long as they lived, they predicted a solution. A salvation.
Once on the ribbon, they found difficulty in standing still. Attuned to leaning forward and allowing momentum to carry them ahead, Parno and Kathlynn wobbled as their feet stopped. To prevent falling, they clung to each other. Though a mechanical act of survival, this clinging did not lack an emotional base. In all of their universe, Parno and Kathlynn could find no better entities to revere than each other.
Down and around at no rate of time, the ribbon ran through the vessel. Rounding the last bend, the conveyor carried them to clouds, an artful demarcation on an average entry. Average for alien.
A sense of confidence would not ensure their success. As the entry dilated open, the Earthers knew they could not just fall inside and watch the smelter burn a hole in the vessel’s hull, revealing the island. They still had work to do. They still had to think and plan and give effort. They still had to suffer for survival.
The smelter and the faux kitty both sat in their previous positions. No sign of smoke inside, but the sky-like floor and ceiling brought the Earthers no immediate joy.
Less crippled together than apart, they dragged themselves to the smelter. Despite their brief exposure to the cloud room’s entertaining environment, the Earthers looked to the erg adjunct remediator and thought they saw a vacuum cleaner.
As they arrived at the smelter, it groaned at them. Kathlynn thought she heard the kitty, but Parno knew he heard the chamber, the vessel, the ship. Then the sky shuddered, the ceiling above and the floor below. The Earthers felt no concern that the smelter would topple over and crush them, because it sank into the floor.
Parno and Kathlynn found enough energy to leap onto the nearest cloud as the floor turned dark, fluid. Neither complained about pain. Then came an excruciating sight: above, the vessel’s ceiling split, revealing the genuine sky, the island’s atmosphere.
Continuing to climb from cloud to cloud, they only considered success. They did not contemplate that the chambers walls were melting. They did not notice that the floor was now a thick, destructive drool. They did not see the chamber entry and surrounding wall fuse together. Continuing to climb, they had to see that the clouds above were crumbling. Being average, injured people, they couldn’t fly. But they could soar.
Considering only success, these people excelled in failing. They proved themselves superior by feeling all of their pains, but not forever. The fear of tortuous dying might take their minds, but not their spirits. With no words, no thoughts, no longer feeling in their flesh, they achieved the metaphysics of freedom.
The universe repairs itself with death, removing activity from obsolete organisms, transferring their movement to more viable objects. As long as the universe remains for humans, peace will remain their ultimate emotion.
&nbs
p; Reduced from persons to personalities, they found transcendence in no need. No need to suffer further. No need to feel their killing pains. No need to fear the future. No need to wonder of success and failure in their living. Having no need to consider loss, they realized freedom. Not deteriorating into destroyed human objects, they transcended into anima prepared for an eternity of peace. Their final awareness came as pure emotion, not requiring failed bodies as subjects, only unending empathy. If they were to die, they would not die alone or unloved.
Upon dying, they would leave behind their parents, siblings, and friends, but would take their beloved along.
To the clouds.
Looking up, Kathlynn saw the light of Kapnos 3, but saw no path to gain it. Regardless, she smiled.
“We're close to heaven now, Parno!” she cried joyously.
Parno didn't wonder how Kathlynn could speak though her mouth wouldn't open. He didn’t wonder how she could smile without a face. He was smiling, too.
“I hope it's fun,” he told his friend.
“I'll let you play with my rat. That's fun.”
“Look, there it is!” Parno told her.
Still smiling childishly, Parno pointed upward. At the chamber’s ceiling, a different cloud entered. Not vaporous, but dry; not white, but black; not shaped like a cumulus, but a person.
“That's not your rat, Keera.”
On the same level, they leaned together in a type of embrace.
“Ha! Let's pretend it's an angel.”
“I hope it likes to play.”
Chapter 20
New Indigenes
The guidance cell became perfectly informative. This chamber of knowledge and control revealed to the Earthers that they should leave. The guidance cell informed not by actively transferring an education, but by passively revealing its own wholeness. All of the walls in this room were solid now, none possessing the black depth of night. Parno and Kathlynn did not see cremated aliens in work suits, dead bodies encased in coffins. They found the ribbon panel, and effortlessly entered.
