by Mark Russo
“A rift opened in the woods,” he said, not looking me in my plastic eyes.
“You are joking, right?”
“I wish I was. No, it’s the second time this has happened already.”
“This is not what we expected. This is dangerous, Charles. We risk—”, “I know. I know this is a sign that we have little time.”
We headed for the same wood where I had hid before meeting Emma.
“We have proxies working on it. They go there almost every night. During the day, the rift does not show … yet. It’s just a hole in the ground.”
I struggled to follow his fast pace. “I think they can still handle it. If it doesn’t show in the daytime, it means nothing too big came out of it.”
“If that happens, I mean, if something big comes out of it, we cannot control it. We can’t use the Great Communion’s support yet.”
“I’m well aware of that, Charlie.”
We walked for almost ten more minutes. I asked him to carry me; this fucking body didn’t allow a fast walking pace. When we arrived, I saw a fucking tear on the ground, not longer than a meter and just as wide. A blue light came from it, and I looked in.
Inside the hole, I only saw more light; I couldn’t distinguish precise shapes. If I’d had a clearer view of where I came from, that would have been a terrible sign.
“I don’t know if I have to worry about this already. You know much better than I do how this works,” Charles said, wide-eyed.
“This is weird, Charlie. Rifts should appear in very advanced phases of our little experiment here.”
That shithead. He called me an expert, and he knew what happened last time we tried this. I was in charge.
Two Shadows emerged from the rift, rippling from the hole in the ground. Those two useless creatures approached my feet. I didn’t even need to talk to them. They slithered back to where they had come from.
“Why do they fear you this much?” Charles asked, his hands stuffed in his coat pockets.
“Let’s say I had dealt with Shadows before. These creatures are not that dangerous. We can easily handle them. On the other hand, we can use them for that other issue.”
“I see. You proved to be resourceful. Will you handle the rift in the next days too?”
“Sure, honey. I’ll have lots of fun doing it.”
I'll come here every night for at least three human days. I don’t want him to ruin this. I saw some space for maneuvers with my human, and I was more than ready to leverage that.
The next morning, I left my standby status to find myself alone in Emma’s room again. The place was a mess. I did not have a real nose, but I could swear the air smelled stale. She left the bed undone, and the sheets lay scattered on the floor. Her clothes were here and there, some folded, some not. She had turned on all the lights for no reason, since the bright sunlight filtered through the thin curtains. Her luggage sat open and empty in the middle of the room. Luckily, the cleaning robots would be here soon.
I got off the chair; I needed to check the proxies. I still did not know who was handling this part of our plan and who was creating them. The only very important thing was—
Emma got back into the room, completely wet. I didn’t need to ask what happened; she spat out her frustration as soon as she saw me. “They think this is funny. Fricking water balloon.”
“Who did this to you?” I wanted to know the names of those people. I might have to handle them.
“It’s André and Tim. It looks like they became friends, and the best way they have to waste their time is to harass others, especially me.”
“Okay, just change your clothes and return to class. We do not want them to think they got to you.”
“The bad thing is they did. I do not know why I’m not crying this time.”
“Even if they did, do not let it show. All a bully wants is a victim, and we do not want you covering that role. Do we?”
“You’re right. I won’t let them see me be weak again.”
She changed in front of me. She wore another of those uniforms, fixed her hair with a few clips and then, almost, left the room.
“I know you are a robot or an intelligent toy, your choice, but I want to ask you something.”
“Yes, kiddo. Go ahead.” I sat on her disastrous bed.
“Do you have any tips on how to be stronger? How do I get a thick skin?”
Oh, God. Are we really doing this?
“You care too much about what other people think of you. If they want someone to play with, let them play alone. Turn the other cheek. A bully wants a victim. You don’t act like that.”
Crap. I should be careful. She has to think I’m a fucking teddy bear. Not a psychologist.
“Oh, I see.” Her eyes grew big, “I’ll do as you say. Turn the other cheek. Thank you, Mr. Sweet!”
Ok, now she will hug me. Here she goes.
“Now go. Don’t miss your class. I’ll be here, waiting for you.”
She left, And I waved my stuffed paw. Finally, I could check those proxies. Maybe what was happening to my human was not all bad; I could use that too. I just had another brilliant idea.
Those stairs again; I turned my soft head to the right and, for the first time since I set foot in that place, I saw them. The fucking elevators were there, a few paces from that infinite series of steps which would make me tumble every time. I entered the elevator and used voice command to get my tiny body to “Level two, fucker.”
The metal lift cabin whirred its way down in no time. At first sight, level two would appear like a corridor leading straight into a brick wall. Charles protected the area with a secret word. He’s a creative guy; he had picked Abracadabra.
I uttered the magic word, and the wall opened. Rows of bricks slid backward and behind the rest of the cement partition. I entered the murky passage. Why don’t they turn on the lights in here? Are we going stereotypical haunted house? Is this the impression they wanted those students to get?
I moved forward. I could already hear someone tinkering on something I was more than sure would have turned out to be a human body. Moving forward, the noise increased, and I could finally distinguish a doorless opening on the right-hand side maybe ten steps away.
As I entered the room, I got confirmation of my belief. A very tall, poorly rendered human was moving a dead body from an operating table to a hanging hook, as locals do with cows and other animals.
“The hell? You look like shit,” I said.
“I am not to meet them. So, they did not care too much about my appearance,” the giant pile of meat blabbered.
I moved closer. That creature would have terrified anyone who got too close to it.
“You the trainer, right?” he asked.
“Yep, it’s me. I would assume you’re the blood forger here. Aren’t you, honey?”
He grunted something I took as a yes.
“Crap. Why they didn’t fix your voice? Do we always have to be this sloppy?”
“Don’t get angry at me.” He slit the throat of the body left hanging, blood poured as he replied, “Charles said it’s okay.”
“I’m not mad. Okay, okay. Listen. How many proxies do we already have?”
“I’m working on the research center now. Students will be next.”
“This is okay. The subject has to interact with humans a little longer. Things are going well on my side.”
He grunted again.
“We don’t want you out of here, for any reason. Remember?”
“Yes. Charles told me to stay here.”
“Good boy. I’ll tell you when it’s time to chop up the students.”
“Okay, Mr. Sweet.”
For God’s sake. Even this fucker knows that name. Will I ever get rid of it?
“Yes, thank you,” I whispered.
I was leaving the makeshift slaughter house when I noticed something unusual about how he handled the bodies.
“Why are you waking up proxies when they’re still bleedi
ng out?”
He should not do it. It can fuck up the process.
“I like to see them suffer.”
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” I scoffed.
“Chunk’s the name.”
The very close portrayal of a maskless Jason Voorhees almost smiled.
“Okay, dude. You like to see them suffer. I get it. It’s a lot of fun, with all the gurgling and moaning and whining. I get it.”
He nodded.
“But we can’t do it. We risk waking them up with their original personality. We don’t want that to happen, right?”
“No, no. I will not torture the humans anymore. Blood forge only.”
“Great. We have a deal.”
I extended one of my stuffed paws, and he grabbed it.
I doubt I had ever felt a crappier handshake.
After leaving that creature’s playground, I needed to do something else, something very important to help lay my plans in the right direction. I took care to hide in a remote area of the building, opened a door to my world and moved to the other part. That had cost me lots of energy, but well worth it.
I memorized how to reach that fountain, and using it would have given me all I needed to be sure I wouldn’t have failed this time. I ventured down the long flight of stairs that led to the pond of boiling liquid. Soaking this shit body in there was not an option, but I would tap into the power of that crystal-clear substance. I tumbled the entire way down and found myself in front of the fountain; my ego bruised but my body unhurt. Where I expected to see gurgling bubbles emerge from the surface of a thick liquid, I saw a dirty ditch.
I swore in that human language they called English. Someone had preceded me. I considered the possibility that I had just gotten myself a new enemy, probably someone involved in the human’s world colonization playing a double game.
3
Emma
I spent the weekend in almost complete loneliness. My teddy bear was with me, most of the time. It helped, nothing to say about it. He had to leave the room a few times to register his presence at the school. I found that weird, but I’m not an expert about red-tape stuff.
We watched a few more old movies, and it was kinda fun. I felt better. He insisted we played the interactive version of Stranger Things, a web TV series very popular some sixty years ago. He wanted to play the bad guys, whose lines are mostly guttural low sounds, like growls. He finds that funny.
I almost forgot all that was happening there. I almost forgot I was at EIBM.
Suddenly, it was Monday again. Another day of classes. I didn’t expect a water balloon that day. In the mirror, I spotted two dark circles around my eyes. I knew I was in the safe area my room represented, but I would no longer be once I stepped out. That was the first time I faced bullying first hand, and it didn’t feel good at all. My stomach made weird noises for two days, and I felt tired, even if I thought I had slept for a reasonable number of hours.
I walked to the classroom, trying to straighten my shoulders and keep my head up. They will not think I’m weak—I won’t allow it. As I entered the room, I avoided making eye contact with both Timothy and André, but I wouldn’t say they noticed it. I sat in my usual armchair, and it pleasurably adhered to my body. I noticed I lost some weight, my pants hung loose on my legs, especially on my thighs.
Mr. Kassalis entering the room, and he looked even more tan than I remembered. “Good morning, guys. How are you doing?”
I heard, “Good,” in almost perfect unison.
Our professor nodded, fully convinced we were. “Fantastic to hear. Listen up. I hope you revisited our DST software during the weekend. Today we’ll bring your knowledge a step further. Remember, we always look forward to our self-development. As always, I’ll start with a question.”
I expected him to keep talking, but he took a brief break.
“Do you think we can use the output of our DST as it is? And, if yes, how would you use it?”
I really didn’t want to say anything. I would not give them anything to laugh about.
Mr. Kassalis regarded us, one after the other. His eyes stopped moving as he looked at me. “Emma, do you think we need something more than DST?”
I didn’t have time to think, so I muttered, “Yes.” I really hoped that was the correct answer.
The fact nobody laughed was a good sign I hadn’t said something wrong.
Mr. Kassalis pointed his finger at me. “She’s right, guys.” Kassalis moved his finger to Dorothy. “What else would we need, Dorothy? What is your guess?”
She straightened her neck. “I would say we need something to simplify the data, something to limit our chances of making mistakes while interpreting the output of DST.”
That answer surprised me for how detailed it was. She must have spent her nights memorizing stuff, an old-fashioned habit I found useless.
Mr. Kassalis give her an undefined look. “That, again, is correct.” He stepped from the circle of armchairs and moved where the holographic board would appear. As soon as he waved his hand and activated his haptic ring, an intangible spreadsheet materialized. “You’re already aware this is the output of DST.” Kassalis pointed at the table, numbers updating in real time in each cell.
I knew what he was talking about.
“This is for sure more intelligible than crude big data. Anyhow, we cannot do much with it. That is why we need something more.”
He moved back, getting closer to us, snapped his fingers and, for the second time since I arrived in Langren, a holographic image adorned with lots of visual effects appeared. This time, the board disappeared. A set of questions replaced it.
“This is DPT. It turns numbers into something much simpler for us to understand—words.”
I admit, that had not turned out in a way I had expected.
A few lines appeared where the table was. Paying more attention to them, I realized those were questions. The first one read, What is the result you expect to get from processing your data? The second one: What level of analysis do you need to achieve? And the third: Whom do you wish to share your results with?
That was something.
“As you can all see, DPT is asking some very simple questions. Answering them will allow us to use the data we analyzed previously without having to handle them directly. The system does the dirty work.”
I could almost touch the pride in Kassalis’ words. I had one doubt, but I kept my mouth shut. I would not risk it.
“Is there an option to edit the questions?” Tim asked while taking notes on a holographic notebook only he could see.
Kassalis pointed at Tim. “Good question. Yes, there is one. It allows each user to customize data processing.”
“How does the system translate the questions into data management strategies?”
Abigail, the Canadian girl, asked, whose voice I had not previously heard.
“That is a very complex question. If you’re interested, you can find all the software’s technical details in the shared folders.”
She nodded, her eyes slightly closed.
How does everyone get this stuff so easily?
I left the room last; I pretended to check something on my pad and let the others go before me. I thought it would deflect any kind of potential interaction with my colleagues. It worked.
I returned to my room; I was hungry. I thought I was alone. Just behind the corner, I met Tim and André. I ignored them, not quickening my speed on purpose.
“There’s something for you in the mailroom,” Tim said.
I faced him. “Where’s that?”
“This door.” He pointed in front of him.
I found it weird they had already delivered the clothes my parents had sent me the previous day.
“I’ll ask a cleaning robot to bring it upstairs. Thanks.” I turned my back to them. I thought they might just let me be.
“The delivery guy has to give it to you personally. He said so,” André added.
I found that
even weirder. Okay, let’s see what they want me to see. I’m not scared. The worst thing they might have hidden there was a bat or something like that. I’m not scared of wild animals.
“This room, right?” I asked, not addressing anyone in particular.
Tim nodded and pointed the direction.
I entered and closed the door behind me. Nothing and no one waited for me inside. It was a random room with a big desk to the side. It looked like a regular private office. I didn’t get what kind of prank this was. When I heard the door lock behind me, I got it.
“Guys, okay. You got me. Ha-ha. Can you let me out now?” I said in a tone slightly rougher than my usual one.
“No, Emma. You gotta learn.”
I didn’t recognize this voice.
“Matis, is that you? Did you make new friends?”
“Yes. It’s me. You still have to learn something.”
“What is it I should learn?” I was one step closer to losing my patience.
“Learn you are stupid, Emma. Why would someone leave something for you in that room?” Then they laughed.
I clenched my fist as my hands trembled. “I don’t know why you are doing this, but I don’t like it.”
They laughed at me again.
“Guys, I really don’t find this funny. Will you let me out?”
They hesitated, then Matis replied, “You should be there for some more time and reflect upon what you did.”
They didn’t give me a chance to reply. They stepped away from the door.
They returned only twenty minutes later, but it felt much, much longer. I paced while waiting in the room, like a chicken in a cage. I searched the desk drawers, but they were all empty. When the lock creaked, and I finally escaped that place that felt smaller and smaller as time passed, I didn’t even look at those three.
They snickered.
I did not cry. I got angrier at them. My heart beat fast. I promised myself I would have done everything possible to have escaped that shitty situation.
I entered my room and sat at my desk to have my dinner. I got soup and breadsticks from the canteen—my stomach was in a total knot—but didn’t feel like eating it with all those people. I thought about joining Tess in the underwater treasure hunt in TL, but that didn’t really float my boat—to stay in the subject of water. I really had enough of people for that day.
