Vacation

by Jeremy C. Shipp

  Instead I face the screen that consumes both Odin and Noh, which shows a short young woman with braided hair and a gun to her head. The gun belongs to Weis.

  “Let her go, asshole!” Odin trembles with fury, and this is a side of the boy I haven’t seen before.

  “Hello, Weis,” Noh says.

  “It’s good to hear your voice again again, Noh,” Weis says through the speaker. “Though these aren’t the best of circumstances, are they?”

  “If you were following us here, why didn’t you simply attack us en route?” she says.

  “Straight to business, I see,” he says and sighs. “The truth is, I wasn’t aware of your secret exit from the caves. It was by luck alone that one of my scouts happened upon your exodus and followed you here. I would’ve gladly looted you prior to your installation of the security door, but my men and I have been quite occupied saving certain junkie friends of ours from certain doom.”

  I look away, though I don’t think he can see me.

  “I must admit,” Noh says. “I’m more than a little perplexed by your chosen course of action here. What possible reason would you have to show yourself like this?”

  “Think of it as a gift given out of respect,” Weis says. “You know that I’m fully capable of torturing this girl and retrieving the security code. But I’d rather not have to resort to that. Let me in peacefully and no one will be harmed.”

  Noh rubs her forehead. “I am well aware of what you’re capable of, Weis, as you’re aware that I’m willing to sacrifice any number of lives to keep the Garden fully functional. You can’t honestly believe otherwise.”

  “It could be that I have more faith in your humanity than you do.”

  “You should have used the girl to obtain the code. Now, instead of making use of a sneak attack, you’ve given us opportunity to ready our weapons. Now, due to your lapse in judgment, people are going to die on both sides. This isn’t like you at all.”

  Weis shrugs. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

  “No. There’s something wrong with you. Isn’t there?”

  And a realization buzzes in my skull. “Where’s your daughter?” I say. It has to be her.

  For a moment, Weis’ face loses its straight lines. “Amina was shot.”

  It’s worse than I expected.

  “Is she dead?” Noh says, so that I don’t have to.

  Please, let her be alive.

  “She’s in a coma,” Weis says, and his voice crackles. “The doctors have little faith that she’ll ever recover.”

  Noh shakes her head, face low. “You truly believe that a bloody battle is going to make you feel better?”

  “I’m giving you this opportunity out of the goodness of my heart!”

  “If there were any goodness left in you, you would have tortured that girl and occupied us without bloodshed. What you’re doing is sick.”

  Weis opens his mouth, but nothing seeps out. After a long silence, he says, “You’re right. But there’s no turning back, is there?”

  “No way that I can conceive of. I’ll open the door in five minutes.”

  “Right.”

  Noh stares at him for a long while, not saying a word.

  “Wait a second,” I say, and I have an idea, which I’d normally keep to myself, but I don’t want to die. “If Noh gives you a chance to speak to your daughter again, would you leave the Garden alone?”

  “What do you mean by speak to her?” Weis says.

  “I mean an actual conversation,” I say. “You can talk to each other.”

  “How is that possible?”

  I turn my gaze to Noh. “It is possible, isn’t it? You can make her eat whatever I ate. You can hook Weis up to the machine. Right?”

  “There are two major problems with that scenario,” Noh says. “And in all likelihood numerous minor problems that, when added up, will exceed the magnitude of the major ones.”

  “What problems?” I say.

  “One,” she says. “Weis is never going to believe that we’re in possession of such a machine, unless he enters our stronghold and experiences the device firsthand. He won’t do this. He knows I will kill him the moment he steps through the threshold.”

  Weis clears his throat. “Ordinarily you’d be correct in your assessment, but the truth is I do believe such a device exists. My hypnotist already informed me of the fact that you have the ability to control people while they sleep. It only takes a small leap of faith for me to trust that this device can also allow a certain amount of communication. This leap, I’m willing to make. What’s the other major problem?”

  “The device was damaged during the move here,” she says. “I know this, because I attempted to contact Bernard after you captured him, and was unable.”

  “This is a problem,” Weis says.

  “Is there anyone who can fix it?” I say. “Where did you get it from?”

  “It was stolen from the Agency,” Noh says. “Obviously they aren’t going to repair it for us without compensation, and the only compensation they would want from us is our own demise. We could try Konstantin, if the good Sergeant doesn’t object.”

  “No objection here,” Weis says.

  Noh sighs with more relief than I’ve ever heard her expel. “Two of my men will exit the stronghold with a gun held to the device. If you attempt to harm them or capture the machine, they will render it beyond repair.”

  “Understood.”

  “The first man will obviously be Odin. This way there’ll be no doubt in your mind that the mission will be attempted at full conviction. Odin wants to return with the device fixed more than anything. If he doesn’t, you won’t hesitate to kill Pari.”

  “True.”

  “I’d like the second man to be Mr. Johnson. The reason—”

  “I understand.” Weis smiles a little, but he still looks sad.

  “Five minutes.” And she turns off the screen. She faces me. “If the device can’t be repaired, Odin will return you to the hospital. You’ll have your old life back.” She reaches in her mammoth pocket and pulls out a little black box that dreams are made of. “Thank you.”

  And I wonder how to say goodbye to someone you never wanted to meet.

  The answer is, you don’t.

  Part 13

  “It’s warm now,” Odin says. “But it’s gonna get cold as shit. Cold shit.”

  This is a desert we’re crunching across now. Dark red stretches way too far across the bumpy horizon, and the sun’s way too small.

  Another sunset, and I’m still not tired.

  “By the way, dude,” Odin says. “You’re a saint. Pari probably won’t be tortured or killed because of you. I really appreciate that.”

  “You’re welcome,” I say, and I’m not lying.

  “I keep seeing her face, man. You remember how she looked. Like she wasn’t scared at all, and I know she was doing that for my sake. Pretending. That just breaks my heart even more.”

  “I’m sorry,” and I’m still not lying.

  “I need to get my mind off her or I’m gonna go nuts.” He fiddles with the checkered blanket wrapped around his head. “Do you know anything about herbs, man?”

  “Not really,” and this is true.

  “Herbs are the bad asses of the plant kingdom. Their oils are potent shit. The plants use them against predators, viruses, funguses, uh fungi, bacteria, and whatever. That means when we eat these oils, we get those defenses. It’s like millions of years of evolution in a bite sized package. Natural weaponry.”

  “Interesting,” and the truth continues.

  He keeps talking, and I keep telling the truth, and I realize that when you’re in the process of doing something good for someone, you don’t have to lie.

  In time, we reach our destination. The dome house consists of white triangular panels. The bottom panels are white because they’re white. The top panels are white because they’re reflective, and the moon blooms full above. A small pond or reservoi
r glimmers near the dome. Hundreds of shaggy-haired sheep graze the green plants and drink the black water. Two boys and two dogs yell at us in languages I can’t understand. The boys show us their guns and the dogs their teeth.

  Odin says a few words I can’t comprehend.

  Soon the boys are laughing, and the dogs are rolling on their backs, as Odin pleases them with jokes and petting.

  We head for the dome, and Odin says, “It’s gotta suck to be a shepherd. Resources out in the open like that. You gotta sleep with one eye open. Plus, there’s all the people you have to kill.” He looks back one last time. “But, at least they’re surviving.”

  Odin knocks on the door.

  A man answers. His skin is white. White, white. The kind of skin you only see in TV shows and movies.

  “Hey man,” Odin says.

  “Son!” The white man, who I assume is Konstantin, grabs Odin’s hand and shakes it like he wants it dead. “It’s been a long time!”

  “Dude, no it hasn’t. And you’re not my dad.”

  He clutches my hand next. “And who’s this young man?”

  “Bernard. He’s new.”

  “New to the area?”

  “New new.”

  “Well, don’t just stand there! Come in! Have some hot chocolate!”

  We enter. I don’t see any hot chocolate.

  This place is Noh’s electronics room on steroids. There’s a lot more here, but it’s impotent. No buzz. No lights. Everything seems dead.

  Konstantin throws himself onto a mound of pillows and motions for us to join him, but we don’t. He says, “Undoubtedly, you’re wondering how I’m able to keep all you see before you without owning a lock on my front door. Here’s another shocker. I don’t own a single weapon either. Can you even begin to fathom how I accomplish this?”

  Odin leans close to me. “Just humor him. He won’t help us unless you listen to his ranting. Or pretend to listen.”

  “How do you do it?” I say.

  Konstantin’s eyes sparkle. “First of all, none of my possessions are worth very much from a survival standpoint. Mostly, they’re for entertainment. This alone wouldn’t deter thievery, of course, but it does spawn less temptation than say, if I were building a weapon of some sort. The next trick is that none of my belongings are user friendly. That’s an understatement. No one could figure out to use any of this without my help, and I don’t write any manuals. It’s all up here.” Normally, a person would point to their head when speaking those words. He doesn’t. “Which brings me to my greatest possession. My brain. This is worth more than everything else combined. Can you guess how I protect it?”

  “No, how?” I say.

  “Look!” He peels down his turtleneck and reveals a thick metal strip. “It’s set to explode if I’m taken too far from the dome, or if anyone attempts to remove it! I can’t be kidnapped!”

  “That’s smart.”

  “I know!” He struggles to his feet, almost slipping on the pillows. “The great thing is, I have such a specialized skill, no one wants to kill me. No one even robs me for food, because I never stockpile. I fix things for the locals and everyday they bring me what I need to survive for that day.”

  “Wow,” and I try to sound as impressed as I am.

  “So, what can your father do for you today?”

  Odin hands him the black box. “It’s some sort of dream machine that lets people—”

  “I know what it is,” Konstantin says. “I’m not an idiot.”

  “It’d be cool if you could fix it.”

  “I know! That’s why you’re here!” He takes the box to the farthest curve of the room, where tiny dental-like tools dangle in the air, with the aid of hanging wires and clamps. He tosses the box on a wood table and gets to work.

  “Be careful with it,” Odin says.

  Konstantin laughs. “It can’t be damaged that way, dolt!”

  “Then how did it break?”

  He turns around to say, “Water!” Then he looks at me. “Would you like to play a game? I could power one up for you and teach you the controls.”

  “No thanks,” I say. I don’t want any part of a machine that tries to deceive my eyes.

  “My newest game allows the player to relive my childhood. I’m still working out the kinks.” He unclamps what looks like a tiny pitch fork, and types into the side what must be a multi-digit security code, in order to make the points light up. “It’s the AI I’m having trouble with. I’m attempting to create a single artificial personality that will react to stimuli the way my father did, but I can’t find a correlation to his rationality.” He reclamps the pitchfork. “Damn it. Finished already.”

  Odin takes the box and hands him a cloth bag.

  “What’s in here?” Konstantin says.

  “The usual,” Odin says.

  “Usual what?”

  “Herbs, man. Better eat it up before the bandits come to take it.”

  “You’re right!” He begins to devour the leafy contents.

  Odin heads for the door and I follow.

  “Listen to this insanity,” Konstantin says, behind us. “So far I have six personalities for the one father, and this is after a year of programming.”

  “Longer than that,” Odin says, quiet.

  We’re outside now, and the kids and dogs and sheep and sun are nowhere to be seen.

  “Well,” Odin says. “I guess this is goodbye.”

  “What?” I say.

  “You’re going home. You know that, right?”

  I don’t know anything. “We have to go back with the device.”

  “No, dude, I have to go back. Noh set you free.”

  “She didn’t say that. She said—”

  “Noh said what she had to say, so she can sleep at night. You don’t know how hard this is gonna be on her, giving you up before your time. I’m gonna have to go back and say you escaped from me. And she’s gonna have to convince herself she made a stupid mistake giving me this.” He takes out another tiny cloth bag. “These are seeds, man. Real ones. She told me to pay Konstantin with them. But you heard what he said. He doesn’t take stuff that’s worth this much. Truth is, she gave me these seeds so I can hire you a guide. So that he can take you to the hospital. So you can go home. Got it?”

  “I guess so.”

  “The worst part for her though is gonna be not using the device on you. If she wanted, she could force you to come back.”

  “The device is broken, isn’t it?”

  “Well, yeah. The part that lets her talk to people in dreams is busted. Not the controlling part.”

  “Wait a second.” An idea kicks me in the shin. “If she’s willing to pay a guide with seeds, why not give Weis some in the first place? That is what he wants, isn’t it?”

  “Man, you really don’t get it. Thing is, you don’t have to get it anymore. Just forget all this shit, and go home. You do want to go home, don’t you?”

  And the fact that I don’t say, “Yes,” an instant later bothers me.

  The fact that I stay silent is terrifying.

  If I leave now, I’ll never get my Assignment.

  I’ll never learn the true purpose to the Vacation.

  I’ll never see Noh again.

  But fuck all that, I want to go home.

  But.

  There’s a reason I came up with the Weis-communicating-with-his-daughter-using-the-device idea so fast.

  I have a reason to go back to the Garden.

  A good one.

  “If you’re gonna come with me, dude, we’d better leave now.” Odin glances around with squinted eyes. “I already paid those shepherd kids to get you a guide. If he shows up and learns we’re not gonna use him, well…you’d better make up your mind quick.”

  Suddenly, I wish Noh would use the device on me again.

  Now the only person I can blame is myself.

  And I do.

  Part 14

  The process runs as smooth as if they do this sort of thi
ng everyday. And I’m beginning to think, maybe they do. Weis comes in with a gun pointed at his head, and Pari remains outside in the same predicament, and after Weis finishes with the machine, the trade will be made, and the door will be locked, and that’ll be the end of it. For a while.

  When Noh first sees me, she says, “Bernard.”

  The feeling I get, it’s like the first time I rode my bike, or my high school graduation. It’s not the event that’s important, but the pride I sensed in both of you.

  I want her to say my name again, and I wonder if I’m suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.

  It doesn’t feel like suffering.

  As for Weis, he whimpers in his chair, with the helmet on. I don’t know if the device is causing him pain, or if he’s saying goodbye.

  He’s got plugs in his ears, so it doesn’t matter if we speak.

  But we don’t.

  Afterward, Weis says, “I won’t attempt another siege for as long as the Garden remains in this location.”

  With her gun still directed at Weis’ head, Noh says, “I would expect nothing more from you, Sergeant.”

  “Thank you, Noh. And you, Mr. Johnson. I hope this is the last time I’ll ever see either of you, but of course I fear for the worst.”

  Noh nods and takes him outside.

  The trade is made.

  Odin and Pari make out in the garden, and I tell Noh I want to speak to her in private. I head into the electronics room and she follows.

  “I want to use the device,” I say. “That thing is still inside Aubrey. I want to talk to her.”

  “Aubrey?”

  “Weis’ daughter. Whatever her real name is. Anima.”

  “Amina.”

  “She saved me from Weis.”

  “Odin told me.” She shivers, though it isn’t very cold in here. “As you know, during the move, I damaged the equipment whereby our two minds can converse. All that remained was the device that allows me to control your motor functions. I used it. Once I discovered you were captured, I helped you escape from Weis, and took you to the priests, in hopes that they would get you across the border safely. Once again, I conveyed you into even greater danger. I apologize.”