by LEMPEREUR
“Yes, Giuseppe,” answered Francisco.
Mario said nothing. He was both relieved that Giuseppe had made the decision for them, and at the same time he was concerned that Charlie’s safety was being neglected in the interest of the experiment.
Meanwhile, the conversation between Jacques and his brother continued, via the neural probe. Charlie had just explained to him that Victor had detected the neural probe and managed to put it out of operation, but that since then, something must have changed. Perhaps Victor wanted Charlie to be able to communicate again, or maybe he had lost control of the neural probe. He was also considering another possible explanation, which he only alluded to.
… Jacques, you know that it’s not like me to overestimate myself. I usually do the opposite.
“That’s true, Charlie, and I’m pleased that you have gained confidence in yourself since agreeing to this mission; but you still need to bear in mind that you may not be quite your usual self right now. In addition to the adrenaline shot we gave you, the brain makes its own chemicals. Besides that, Victor’s brain is not neutral, either.”
… You’re probably right, but I’m sure something new has happened in my relationship with Victor. It was as if I had the upper hand for a brief moment. I trusted myself and my own intuition, but above all, I managed to read their writing system as if it were my own language.
“Do you think you managed to regain control of the neural probe?”
… Maybe, but I don’t know how.
Mario joined the conversation.
“Jacques, Giuseppe thinks it’s better to leave the decision up to Charlie. However, he will need to inform us a little more about what he has discovered concerning Victor. We need to gather as much information as possible about him. The more we know, the better equipped we will be to make the right decisions. You should try to find out more.”
Jacques had heard what had just been said perfectly well, but he did not want to reply. It was clear to him that the proposition was not completely sincere. Above all, Giuseppe wanted to take the experiment as far as possible, and he knew it. Nevertheless, he complied, and steered the conversation toward the discoveries Charlie had made about Victor.
“What exactly do you know about Victor?”
… Well, things are still a little hazy, but apparently he seems to have been hibernating in this cave for a lot longer than we thought. He is part of a species not too dissimilar to ours. In a lot of respects they make me think of us, but their technology is much more advanced.
“Maybe not to the point of prolonging life for such a long period – keeping beings in hibernation for several centuries already seemed unlikely. Charlie, are you sure you can really trust what you perceive in that artificial realm?”
… Listen, you asked me to tell you about Victor and that’s just what I’m doing! You’re probably right; now is not the time to talk about it.
Clementine had been keeping a constant eye on Giuseppe and Francisco. She had never completely trusted Giuseppe and did not particularly appreciate Francisco. Those two surely know a lot more than they cared to let on. She drew near to Jacques and whispered something in his ear. He looked up from the screen briefly in Giuseppe’s direction, and then continued the conversation with Charlie in a lighter tone.
“You’re right. Who am I to question what you tell me? Here I am, lying on my seat, waiting all day for you to answer my calls. The rest of the time I eat, drink and chat with Clementine and Mario. Francisco too, of course, but he’s not exactly very talkative.”
… They’re taking good care of you, I’m sure. I think about you all the time. Tell them I can’t wait to get back there with you all, and sit down to a good meal together; to see your faces and smell, touch and taste the flavor of things again.
“That won’t be necessary – they’ve just read everything you just said.”
... That’s right! I was forgetting that our conversation was public.
“Not exactly, Charlie. They can only see your answers. After each conversation, I tell them the questions I asked you and they use them to transcribe our conversation. Don’t forget that you’re hearing my voice because I’m communicating via telepathy.”
… Yes-
“No! Don’t answer. Listen carefully to what I tell you. This needs to stay between you and me. Clementine has just shared her impressions of Giuseppe and Francisco’s attitude with me, and I have to agree. We are more and more convinced that they’re hiding something from us. I think that from now on, it would be better if you told me as little as possible. Just be evasive and especially keep the most pertinent information to yourself. Maybe it’s nothing to worry about, but it’s best to play it safe. I’m not sure that your safety is a priority for Giuseppe. Who knows what they intend to do to Victor? After all, they may be scientists, but they’re working for the army, let’s not forget it. Let them believe that you are making important discoveries but don’t let them know what they are until you’re back here with us. For now, don’t bother about all that. Just try to get back as soon as you have done what you think you need to do. Don’t be too long. Good luck, Charlie!”
The screen remained blank. Everyone waited expectantly for a reply but none came. Jacques turned away and spread his hands slightly, signaling that the communication had just been lost.
24 A FRESH START
There it was, lying peacefully near his face. It had just closed its eyes after laying its head on its front paws. Charlie, straining his ear, could just hear the tiny animal breathing. He contemplated it with much tenderness and a little nostalgia. It did not seem like much, but that little mouse suddenly meant a lot more to Charlie than a mere imaginary animal. He dreaded the inevitable moment when it would run away, leaving him alone again. He dared not move, lest he woke it up. It symbolized the link between himself and his brother; a link that he was now fully aware of again.
This animal cannot be of Victor’s making, he thought, Therefore, its image and presence here can only be the product of my own mind. Consequently, I should be able to keep it near me. I just have to want it.
Charlie slowly reached out his hand and picked up the little rodent gently. The mouse did not move. Its small, warm body fitted neatly in the palm of his hand. He could feel its regular, rapid, little heartbeats on his skin. As it still was not moving, Charlie began to believe he had been right. He would never be separated from his brother now; at least not completely. Leaning on his free arm, he got to his feet, being sure not to make any brusque movements that might wake up the mouse. It was still asleep in his hand, unperturbed. He took several steps forward, without knowing where his feet would lead him in this luminous void; a void that seemed at first to be limitless. However, he could feel the ground beneath his feet again – a sign that he was gradually getting back in touch with reality. This was a very unique reality, where he and Victor were the architects.
Little by little, the light became less blinding, and its whiteness gradually faded into nuances of color. At first they were very bright – almost fluorescent – then they started to turn to more pastel shades. Out of this blend sprang vague silhouettes here and there, which Charlie could not identify. Suddenly, two imposing dark masses appeared before him. Apparently they were the massive silhouettes of two individuals. They were standing still, side by side, a few dozen meters from him. Gripped by fear, Charlie tried to find somewhere to hide the mouse, which he was still holding in his right hand. In doing so, he realized that would be impossible as long as he had not found himself any clothes. He stopped and turned around to think.
“Perhaps I just need to concentrate to make some clothes appear. After all, I’ve managed to keep this animal with me, long after cutting off the communication with Jacques.”
He set about imagining himself in a gray suit, the same kind worn by most of the workers he had seen in the big room where the huge vessel was. As he did so, his shiny, gray skin was gradually covered by finely woven, matte gray material. It was so light
and flexible that it fitted the shape of his body perfectly, giving Charlie the impression that he was wearing the simplest outfit. It was as though his whole body had just been placed in some sort of thermostatically controlled bubble. He could not say whether he was warmer or cooler than before. He felt wonderful. Perhaps his sense of well-being was rather unreasonable, in that it distanced him a little more from his earthly body. Thankfully, the parts of his skin that were still exposed provided his senses with some exterior stimulation. Whether it was simply the product of his imagination or some clever blend of imaginary and real physical sensations, was not crucially important to Charlie. He had a visceral need to feel all these sensations, as miniscule or distorted as they may be.
Without thinking, Charlie put his hand in the pocket of his pants and carefully slipped the still-sleeping mouse into it. He was afraid he might squash it inadvertently, but at the same time, he was quite aware that it did not, strictly speaking, truly exist physically. Therefore, nothing could happen to it, as long as he was personally convinced that it was still there in his own mind. It was an idea, a mental construct which linked him to Jacques. Whatever happened, he must not let Victor find it. He was determined to protect it, come what may; like a baby or some pet animal whose presence alone can be enough to relieve a life of suffering and frustration.
He looked up in the direction of the two bulky, dark shapes standing before him and moved toward them with confident strides. The silhouettes became gradually clearer, and soon Charlie recognized the two guards barring the entrance to the gangway a few hours earlier. Strangely, they seemed perfectly clear to him, while the rest of the surroundings were still bathed in some sort of vague, luminous haze. He stopped in front of them for a moment. They remained motionless with their arms crossed and did not speak. Their colossal size would have discouraged anyone from attempting to approach, but Charlie, confident from his first successful attempt, launched himself into the mountain of muscle again, convinced he would go straight through it without them even noticing. The violent impact knocked Charlie to the ground. If he had wanted to be conscious of his body, he certainly felt it now! He lay on the ground like some vulgar thug who had just been kicked out of a nightclub.
“Are you okay, Charlie? Nothing broken, I hope?”
Charlie dared not look up, afraid of meeting the giants’ gaze, but he soon realized that they had nothing to do with all this. The little white mouse had come out of his pocket during the fall. It was standing in front of him, speaking to him.
I’m going crazy, he thought. This mouse can’t see me. I severed the communication with my brother. I’m starting to talk to myself.
But the mouse spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay, Charlie?”
This time, he decided to answer, despite being afraid he was sinking deeper into insanity. Anyway, he knew it was futile to fight against an idea. He had already experienced that in the past, and once the idea had been rejected, it always came back again, until it became a real obsession. Andrea had taught him, during his many relaxation classes, to let his mind wander, without trying to fight against intrusive thoughts. It was all about learning to let go, in order to better observe the dynamics and content of his thoughts. Then it was possible – at least in theory – for him to begin true introspective work. Awareness was an indispensible requirement when attempting to subsequently modify thought patterns and their content. He glanced briefly at the two guards, who remained undisturbed and did not even seem to have noticed his presence. Then finally, he answered.
“Yes, yes, don’t worry about me. What happened? It seems as though they didn’t feel anything, but the collision was violent. What about you? What are you doing here? Who are you, really?”
“But it’s me, Jacques!”
“Impossible!”
“Why do you say that, Charlie?”
“Because I haven’t been in communication with my brother for some time now. You’re just a mental construct. You can’t have a will of your own. As I just said; it’s absolutely impossible.”
“This is not good, Charlie. I warned you. You are starting to lose it, if you ask me. It’s starting again, just like it did when we were put into psychiatric care because of you.”
At these words, Charlie knew that it could not be Jacques speaking to him through this animal. He would never have said such a thing – especially not in the current context, when he needed his help and moral support more than ever. He decided to play along and see just where this would lead.
“Yes, you’re probably right, Jacques. I could be losing my mind right now, but you need to understand what it’s like for me. I’m completely submerged in some sort of parallel universe, deprived of everything that’s familiar to me.”
“Don’t worry, Charlie. I will guide you. Together we’ll find what you’re looking for and then you’ll be free to go back to your home.”
“You mean our home!”
“Yes, of course. We are all looking forward to seeing you, Charlie. Clementine is starting to miss you. She’s very worried about your health. Let’s finish this mission. Those two guards you just collided with – I think you ought to try talking to them. They might have some information for you – something that would help us to make some progress.”
“Yes, you’re right. I’ll try, but you get back in my pocket. They might see you.”
“There’s no risk of that – I am only real to you, remember!”
The mouse climbed onto his shoulder and Charlie struggled to his feet. The two hulks were looking at him with completely expressionless faces. Apparently he was no longer invisible. Was it because of his clothes? Possibly, but his intuition held him back from pursuing that line of thought. The true explanation was quite different, and even if he did not have the answer yet, he knew that it would be a lot more complex; probably something to do with Victor, or with the convergence phenomenon. For now, he could not see any other option, other than following this strange, unnerving guide. He would make it, so long as he managed to keep his mental independence. He would have to do as it said, without ever completely adhering to its doctrine, and sooner or later he would get the upper hand again. In a slightly shaky voice, he spoke to the guards.
“Hello, Gentlemen.”
The two guards kept looking at him, but did not respond. The mouse whispered in Charlie’s ear.
“Tell them you are a worker from platform 109 and you were dropped off here by mistake.”
“Er, I’m a worker from platform 109 and there must be some mistake. Would you be so kind as to tell me where I am, please?”
The two guards answered in unison: “Boarding platform number 9. Show us your card, please!”
“Um, yes, of course.”
The mouse whispered again.
“Look in your pants pocket. It’s in there.”
He delved into his pocket and pulled out a small, metallic card with a name on it, followed by a series of numbers and symbols. He held the card out to them rather apprehensively. They looked at it briefly then the larger of the two leaned toward Charlie.
“No sir, it’s no mistake. The Council wishes to assemble all the workers, whether they work on assembly platforms or boarding platforms. The meeting will be held in Room A28 which is right behind you. You may go there immediately. About a hundred of your colleagues are there already and the rest will arrive shortly.”
“Thank you, Gentlemen. Excuse me for bothering you.”
The guards assumed their previous position without further comment, and Charlie headed toward the place they had just shown him. He walked down a long corridor, along with many other workers going in the same direction. After a few minutes’ brisk walking, they came into a vast hall, its walls entirely made of windows. A crowd of strangers, dressed like him, began to press around the front of an imposing white stage, where five empty seats were arranged in a half-circle.
Charlie was intimidated by this crowd of strangers – especially as he thought he was now visible. He had n
ever liked crowds and even if he had been successfully treated for agoraphobia, he still felt quite apprehensive when he found himself in this type of situation. He positioned himself as near as possible to the corridor he had just come down. It was an old habit that he had actually learned to give up during therapy, but which still lingered.
He knew perfectly well that he should not do it, because it only served to feed his phobia. As a general rule, he tried not to give in to this temptation whose origins, according to Andrea, went back, to the dawn of time. It was a sort of survival instinct that drove all potential prey to identify all available escape routes in the face of perceived danger. She had explained to him that this instinct, while very useful to animals, could also be useful to Man, but that sometimes it occurred to an exaggerated extent, in the absence of any real danger. According to her, that was the reason for the physical manifestations he felt when he would go outside during that period. His heart rate would suddenly increase and he would start to hyperventilate, which led to a feeling of general unease and a loss of his bearings. But all that was long gone, now. Even if he was ill at ease, at least he knew that he would not have a reaction as strong as he did in those days. At worst, he would feel a little uncomfortable, but it would pass. Anyway, he was near the exit.
As time went on, the crowd grew denser, until he soon found himself surrounded on every side. Even the corridor was full, to Charlie’s misfortune, as he was now trapped. His anxiety had been gradually and inevitably increasing for several minutes now. He tried to avoid the others’ eyes as much as possible, but he felt watched. In spite of his thermal clothing he felt extremely cold and was shivering so much that his teeth chattered. Even so, drops of sweat started to run down his face, and his heartbeats resonated throughout his whole body at a dizzying rate. Then suddenly, it all stopped. His heart found its slow, regular rhythm again and he felt relieved, almost peaceful. He looked around him and realized that no one had paid any attention to his panic attack. He even wondered if they really could see him, or if he was invisible again. It was a strange feeling, but not a new one to Charlie. He had already felt the spectacular effects of a strong dose of tranquilizers when he found himself overcome by panic. A few seconds ago he had been having an anxiety attack so intense he thought he would never get over it.
