The Way of All Flesh: Illusions Can Be Real

by Corey Furman

  Breylin was still receding from her room. Sighing in resignation, she laced her arms over her breasts, stood and followed him out. She willed herself not to look back at the lash above the door, but it was there, she could just feel it, and the knowing made the skin on her arms pebble.

  He walked over to the door in the kitchen, turned to face her. When she stood directly before her he said, “Turn around.”

  Fearfully she obeyed.

  He dropped a cloth around her face and knotted it in the back, scaring her near to panic.

  He dug his fingers into the skin of her arm and said, “I will guide you. All you have to do is listen.” With that, he opened the door and walked her outside into the teeth of the wind.

  It was the first time Maré had ever not been inside a building or a facility. The sensation of the fast moving air across her skin was strange. It was gritty, though, and dust was beginning to coat her throat. The air smelled… fresh. Not recycled. Cold. Strange. But not being able to see such an open space made it a little unnerving, and though she knew there was nothing but sky above her, it still felt like the ponderous bulk of the roof of the world was weighing down on her. It was just enough to dull the edge of her fear for the moment.

  She leaned into his grip as they walked for a couple minutes over uneven ground, but how long she couldn’t be sure. It was hard to concentrate between the surreal sensations of the swiftly moving air that was pebbling her skin, the texture of the rocks she could feel through the thin soles of her shoes, and the bits of light that crept in around the edges of the rough cloth on her face. Eventually he stopped her and said, “two steps up.”

  Carefully, he navigated her up the steps. She began to notice a slight but sharp stink of burned plastic over the air currents. Faint though it was, it was still bitter… and wrong. Its tang cloyed at her tongue, her throat, and as she moved blindly at his guidance it began to creep beneath the blindfold and sting her eyes. Walking a few more steps he stopped her and said, “here we are.” When he took off the cloth, she saw that she was standing in a burned out building of some kind. It was wet, desolate and black, and seeing it made the acrid, plastic stink worse.

  “What do you see at your feet, dear?”

  She looked down. There were odd, blackened sticks lying around. They were mostly connected, like a strange tree… but then she noticed a burned, cracked sphere lying next to it. To her horror, she recognized them to be bones, charred remains. A body! What has he done?! She started to emit a panicky whine of terror as she backed up and looked away, but his grip on her arm tightened, arresting her retreat.

  “No you don’t, dammit. Look!”

  She mashed her eyes shut and struggled to turn away from the grisly sight. “I don’t want to see it, Mr. Breylin!”

  He dragged her into himself and whispered dangerously in her ear. “Look, Maré, or I’ll become angry.”

  She stared at the awful things and began to cry. “Why am I here, Mr. Breylin?” she whined.

  He spoke into her ear again. “Those bits of bone used to be my wife. She died right here a couple of months ago. Death by fire is… a hard way to go.”

  “Please, may I turn away, sir?!”

  “Sure,” he said. “By all means. Let’s go look at something else.” He dragged her to a different part of the ruin and pointed. “See those bodies?”

  Maré let the horrific sight wash over her as she started to go into shock. “Yes, Sir – I see them!” The wind began to dry her tears on her cheeks.

  “Those two were the Maré and Luna that lived in your room before you did.”

  Maré started making a noise somewhere in her chest. She wanted to stop it but she couldn’t.

  “They didn’t die in the same fire, Maré. I killed them afterwards with my bare hands.”

  Stark terror at what he had done was making her adrenal glands pump out their juices and her pulse race, but all she could do is stand there horrified.

  “I wanted you to know what can happen, Maré. Death is always nearby.”

  A wave of dizziness made the world swivel as she fainted.

  Twenty

  Over the course of the next seven months, Maré spent most of her energy trying to anticipate and read Breylin’s erratic moods and behave accordingly. Keeping track of the seemingly unending lists of what was acceptable and what was unacceptable was exhausting. On those times she got it right, he would almost dote on her lovingly. When he did, she was positive he had deluded himself into reliving pleasant memories of past pairs. Regardless, it didn’t make a difference what he believed; whatever it was, it made him happy, and that meant he wasn’t hurting her.

  As she learned to slip into the role and encourage the memories, she found that it bizarrely made her happy too – a little, anyway. At first she thought that maybe she was living vicariously through her long dead chromanity, and there might have been an element of that, but the house was a long way from everything else on world, and mostly she lived for the periods of his affection; there was nothing and no one else. She wanted to hate him – she did hate him – yet she craved what tender warmth he would occasionally dole out. As terrible as he could be, he was the only other person in her world. She still felt a yawning loneliness, but he kept it from being complete.

  Unfortunately, there were many difficult times, as well. During those times, Breylin was all too lucid and very much in the present. He was quite proficient at working her back and legs with the lash, but he would also make her go for days without clothing or force her to sleep on the floor. Sometimes he would roughly shave her head and then make her say degrading things to her own reflection in the bathroom mirror. On one dreadful occasion he had locked her in her hibernation pod and used her collar to fill her with terror.

  He was almost entirely closed on the details of what had brought him to his current state, but when he would relive his memories he would occasionally give up some of the particulars. He spoke with great love for his beautiful wife, Riss. Their first Maré and Luna had been special to him and his wife, but there had been some sort of accident, and Riss had lost her legs. Evidently, he blamed the twins. It was a long time ago, as near as she could tell.

  Their second set of twins had been present at a fire that killed her. She would never forget the night she learned that; it had started out pleasantly enough, but once he thought of the fire, Breylin had plummeted out of his delusion and beaten her with his fists so bad that she had trouble seeing through eyes swollen nearly shut the next day. Worst of all, he had viciously kicked her in the ribs a few times, and for a week every breath she took, every movement she made, drove needles of torture into her left side. The sensitivity didn’t go away for weeks.

  After that incident, he had also forbidden her to use words like I, Me or My. She could only speak in the third person, as if she was an object. At first it made her feel ashamed, but in time it became just another thing to get past.

  She wondered why he would keep acquiring the same simulants when they were the source of so much pain in his life, especially since he often seemed to be shunning contact with her. The only thing she came up with was that having her nearby must be what keeps him connected to happier times.

  No matter what else happened, she never stopped mourning for Luna, her chroma. When she would lay down to sleep, she would think about how they used to wash and dress each other. She got through Breylin’s difficult times only by remembering how her scent made her feel, and the way her fingers leeched the tension out of her.

  He let her feel the fear and his breath for thirty seconds. The silence was broken only by her near-silent crying and the wind that ached to shiver the house to synthetic splinters. This is it, her mind told her as she screwed her eyes shut tight. She knotted her hands together so taut her knuckles were as white as bone, but her mind was racing, terrified, whimpering. Any second now – the fists, kicking, pain, humiliation, the whip, something, something, SOMETHING, HE’S GOING TO –


  Silence. Sixty seconds.

  She used the last tendon of courage to look into his dead lucid eyes, losing sense of everything else but the pressure building between them.

  Unexpectedly, he stood up and smiled. Gently patting her cheek he said, “I’m feeling generous, Maré. Let’s forget this happened. After all, your birthday is only a month away. I’ll have to come up with something special for it.”

  Terrified at the thought of his special surprises, Maré began to sob, and the pressure finally gave way. Her bladder muscles buckled, she urinated down her legs, and a small pool collected beneath her, warming her toes and arches. The rest of her froze with crushing fear.

  Breylin took a step back and whispered, “now look at what you’ve done.”

  Maré sobbed hysterically. After a few seconds, Breylin realized that he was close to losing control, and he had to get out of there. If that happened, he might beat her to a pulp again – or worse. Without picking up his lunch or processing the situation any further, he dashed to the lift, fired it up and took off to the south, leaving the door open.

  On the ride south, he tried to examine his own conflicted feelings towards Maré. Why did these situations keep happening? Why won’t she just behave? And why can’t I reign in my anger? So many questions… When he came up with nothing again, he put it aside for later. It was time to put on his work face, in case he ran into Harry.

  Ever since dinner months before, his relationship with his friend had been strained. He still didn’t understand what had happened that that night, but based on Harry’s attitude since he knew that he had done something to piss off either him or Sirvon. Whatever it was, Harry wouldn’t discuss the personal aspects of their relationship. Instead of being friends, they were now strictly boss and subordinate. It was Harry’s call to make, but he missed his friend. He would just have to keep trying.

  As he stood in the yard separated from both the other humans and the gabacho workers waiting for dispatch to bring him his assignment, his thoughts drifted back to how he had terrorized Maré this morning, and a pang of guilt echoed through him. He knew that his response had been out of proportion. Maybe I should let her have her clothes and go back to her room. Maybe –

  Someone was shaking his shoulder, and he snapped back to where he was. It was Harry. He had a look of concern in his eyes, and a reflection of his friendship showed though. “Geez, man. You were a million miles away. You okay?”

  “Yeah… Just a rough start to the day, I guess. I’m fine though. Uh, how are you and Sirvon?”

  Harry’s mask fell back in place as he stiffly said, “Everything’s fine for us. Listen, a note came in last night. There’s a package to be picked up at the space port.”

  “Thanks. I wonder what it could be – any details?”

  “No idea. About today – there’s a shortage of supervisors.” His voice lowered enough so that no one would overhear. “I’m going to let you take a crew out by yourself, Joss. It’s been months since your incident, and I’m going to trust you.”

  He considered his friend and boss, who for once wasn’t smoking, though the smell of it still hung on his clothes. His words were a real surprise. “Really? Thanks, I guess, but maybe you want to give it to someone else. I’ve got some things on my mind and I’m not sure today is the best day.”

  “No, it’s you – you’ve been here the longest.”

  “Okay, I’ll try not to disappoint you, Harry.”

  Harry stood straighter and took a more official tone. “Don’t, Breylin. I won’t cover for you again.” When he finished speaking, he turned his back on him and strode off towards the offices.

  During the day, Breylin couldn’t stop thinking about the delivery he needed to pick up. Maybe someone sent something of Dad’s? He had no clue. Whatever it was, he hurried the crew to finish up a few minutes early and rushed them back to base so he could get over to the terminal.

  When he arrived, he went right to the foreman on duty and presented his ID. As the guy compared it to his manifests, Breylin noticed that his name was Lamereaux. “Where’s Jones? He’s usually here second shift.”

  Without looking up from the paperwork he said gruffly, “off today. I had to pull a double.”

  “Tough break, I guess.”

  “Huh? No, I appreciate the money. I’m saving up to head back to Earth.”

  “As young as you are, I’m surprised.”

  “I was a dreamer coming here. But the only way to find a woman is to look among the loners and widows. Too much baggage for me.” He nodded his head. “Here it is.” He called over one of the androids sitting on a nearby bench and gave her the container markers. As she got up, the others scooted down to fill the spot she had vacated.

  Breylin signaled with his chin towards them. “Ever make you feel funny working with them?”

  “The androids? Nope, they’re quiet. I don’t even notice them until there’s something to be done.”

  A couple of minutes later, the android trundled back dragging a cart holding a hibernation pod.

  “What the hell?” Breylin said.

  “Isn’t this what you expected?” said Lamereaux.

  “No… who’s it from?”

  “Hang on, let me check.” He rifled through the papers again. Holding one up to the light he said, “Looks like it says Paradise Station. Huh… must be a simulant.” Looking back at Breylin he said, “didn’t you order it?”

  “No… at least I didn’t think so,” he replied as he moved to look through the narrow window on the top of the pod. Clearly, this was one of the twins. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered in surprise.

  Lamereaux went to the container and tore off a packet that had been affixed to the side of it. Handing it to Him he said, “here are the documents. You may want to take a look at them and see if this is legit.” He gave him a smile. “If there’s been a mistake, it’s a lot easier for you to clear up and less paperwork for me if you don’t accept delivery.”

  Looking the stuff over, he found a letter apologizing for the late delivery of the Alpha model due to the confusion in orders, that this was the one that he should have received, and a promise of a minor price break on the next order. Very strange. He teetered on the edge of sending her back – his funds were low and it would consume nearly all of his emergency credit – but seeing Luna, he knew he had to have her.

  “It seems in order. I guess I misunderstood.”

  “Fine by me.” He thumbed toward the androids. “You want to pop the back of your lift open and I’ll have them load it up?”

  Arriving back home, he backed into the lift port, got out and popped the rear hatch. He decided to go inside and gauge how Maré was before pulling Luna out. This would be the perfect way to try to make up for his reaction this morning, but he figured that he’d better know how she was doing beforehand.

  Entering the house, he found her on the living room carpet on her knees and her face all puffy from crying.

  As soon as she saw him she said, “Mr. Breylin, Maré is sorry for this morning! Please don’t punish her!” She spluttered and sobbed, and from there he couldn’t tell what she was trying to say.

  Guilt tore a hole inside him at her condition, knowing that he had caused this. “Maré, I’m sorry too.” He knelt down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to shriek and recoil. Trying to speak over her noises he said, “Maré, I’m not going to punish you. I’m not going to punish you!”

  She looked up at him, not understanding, but then she tipped over and rolled onto her back. Though she continued to cry, the tears running unnoticed towards her ears, she appeared to begin to settle down.

  Breylin left to retrieve some of her clothes from her cabinet in his bedroom. When he returned, she seemed to be sleeping, and when he bent down to give her a small nudge, he found that she was. He picked her up and carried her into her room. He laid her down, pulled the blanket up onto her, and left the clothes at the fo
ot of the bed. Now obviously wasn’t the time for a reunion.

  In the morning, he gently woke her. She was disoriented and startled, but she said nothing. She held up her blanket slightly and looked at him with a question on her face.

  “It’s okay, Maré. Get showered and dressed quickly – I have a special surprise for you.”

  When he saw her eyes go wide and she started to back away he said, “Nothing bad, dear – it’s a good surprise.”

  She seemed to let some of her fear go, but she still pulled the blanket up around her neck and huddled under it.

  “Just get cleaned up and come out,” he said a little harsher than he had intended, but he pulled the door shut behind him and went into the kitchen to make some coffee.

  After a while, she timidly emerged clothed from her room to stand before him with her eyes down. He had never seen her so dejected. Keeping her eyes on the floor she said, “What’s it to be today, Mr. Breylin?”

  “I wanted to say that I know I contributed to the problem yesterday morning, Maré.”

  She laughed mirthlessly. “You contributed to it, huh?”

  “Your sarcasm aside, I have something I think you’ll appreciate.”

  This time she spoke quietly. “It’s just something else you’ll take from me.”

  “I’m trying to be civil and you’re being difficult, Maré. Would you like to go back to your room and think about your attitude before we continue?”

  She sighed and looked at him. “What do you want me to do?”

  He had to give her credit for the guts she was showing. As afraid as she had been last night, her mettle hadn’t left her. If she was afraid now, he couldn’t tell. Maybe, but he doubted it. Tired, yes, or maybe weary was a better word, but definitely not afraid.