Steven Spielberg's Innerspace

by Nathan Elliott

  Inside the pod, Tuck adjusted the controls for the display screen. Still it remained dark.

  ‘C’mon! C’mon!’ said Tuck. ‘Where’s the picture?’

  Wormwood stepped forward and gently pulled Jack’s hands from his eyes.

  ‘What’s wrong, Jack?’ he asked. ‘Let me see.’

  A black-and-white picture suddenly filled Tuck’s screen. It showed Wendy and Wormwood peering straight at it with worried expressions on their faces. Tuck’s elation at finally getting a picture quickly gave way to puzzlement.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ he said. ‘Who are these people? Where’s Ozzie? Where are the lab technicians?’ He scrutinized the unfamiliar surroundings of the room in which the two strangers were standing. ‘Where’s the lab!’

  The man began speaking, but of course Tuck could hear nothing. Why the heck was the guy talking to a rabbit?

  ‘Okay now, Jack?’ Wormwood was asking.

  ‘I think so . . .’ Jack managed to say. ‘For a moment there, I thought someone had shoved white-hot sewing needles through the pupils of my eyes.’

  Wendy looked revolted at the thought. But that was just how the pain had felt. Jack could only feel grateful that it had vanished as quickly as it had come.

  ‘Go home, Jack,’ said Wormwood. ‘Start your vacation today and come back to us a new man.’

  Jack could scarcely believe it. He nodded appreciatively.

  ‘Thanks Mr Wormwood,’ he said, then stood up. Inside the pod, Tuck was still studying the monitor. As Jack got to his feet, the point of view displayed on the monitor also moved upwards rapidly.

  ‘What the hell?’ said Tuck. ‘Did Bugs just stand up? Wait a minute. Can’t be.’

  ‘Mind if I use your phone first?’ Jack was asking Wormwood. ‘I’d like to call my doctor.’

  ‘Sounds like a good idea to me,’ Wormwood replied. ‘Go right ahead.’

  Tuck saw Jack’s hand in the monitor as he reached for the phone. Only now did he finally understand where he was.

  ‘I’m in a man!’ he yelled. ‘I’ll be a sonofabitch! I’m in a strange man, in a strange room, surrounded by strangers.’ He paused to rub his chin before yelling into the radio: ‘Ozzie, what have you done to me!’

  Instinctively he pulled his hip-flask from the pocket of his jumpsuit. He uncorked it and put the bottle to his lips.

  Empty.

  He remembered only too well the performance he’d made of pouring it down the sink. He wanted to kick himself. He pushed the cork back in and returned the flask to his pocket.

  ‘How the hell did I get inside a man?’ he wondered aloud. ‘I studied up on rabbits, not human beings!’ He paused to consider what to do, and the answer became glaringly obvious: ‘I’ve gotta talk to this guy, let him know I’m here!’

  Working the instrument panel, Tuck punched up a graphic display of the middle ear. He punched in a pathway order, and immediately the synthetic computer voice announced:

  ‘Pathway to middle ear is as follows: internal jugular vein to vestibulocochlear nerve to tympanic cavity . . .’

  Chapter 5

  The screen showed a series of blow-ups of the photographs developed from the film in the stolen camera. Margaret Canker sat watching with Igoe as each image flashed up.

  The first showed the hypodermic needle being stuck into Jack Putter’s backside. The second showed Jack’s face in all its flustered glory. The third showed the travel brochure in Jack’s hand. The fourth showed Jack’s supermarket name-tag attached to the breast of his shirt. Canker paid this final image particular attention.

  ‘J. Putter,’ she read from the tag. ‘Assistant Manager.’ She turned to Igoe. ‘Find him!’

  The pod floated into Jack Putter’s middle ear. To Tuck, it looked like an enormous glistening cavity which completely dwarfed the pod.

  Under Tuck’s control, one of the articulating arms attached a small electronic device to the eardrum.

  Tuck glanced at the screen which showed the view through his host’s eyes. He was approaching the entrance to a building. Then he paused momentarily before continuing.

  Jack had paused to scratch his ear in order to relieve a sudden tickling sensation deep within. Finally the tickling went away. He pushed open the doors, crossed a foyer and entered the elevator that would take him up to Dr Greenbush’s office.

  There were several other people in the elevator. Jack stood in a corner, keeping as far away from everyone else as possible. He didn’t want to risk catching a cold or something worse before he went on vacation. The stabbing pain in his eyes still worried him enough as it was. What if he suddenly went blind in the middle of the cruise?

  ‘Hello,’ said a voice. ‘Can you hear me?’

  Jack looked around at the other passengers, certain that one of them had been addressing him, but they were all staring steadfastly at the elevator’s closed doors as it carried them upwards.

  ‘Respond if you can hear me,’ said the voice.

  Once again, Jack looked around. Once again, no one was looking at him or giving any indication that they had spoken.

  ‘Repeat,’ said the voice. ‘Respond if you can hear me.’

  Very hesitantly, and in a whisper, Jack said, ‘Who? Me?;

  ‘It works!’ came the voice, very loudly and enthusiastically. ‘I can hear you!’

  Jack was thunderstruck, still not knowing who had spoken. The elevator pinged to a halt, the doors slid open, and Jack bolted out, escaping down a corridor.

  He found Dr Greenbush’s office, and gave his name to the receptionist. She told him to sit down, Dr Greenbush wouldn’t be long.

  Jack perched himself between a man and a woman who were both flicking through magazines. A feeling of impending doom had gripped him once more, and he wondered how much longer he could survive in such a constant state of agitation. If nothing else, his heart would eventually give out under the strain -

  ‘Now that we can hear each other,’ said the voice, i think we should have a talk.’

  Jack went rigid, looking straight ahead. After several moments he turned slowly to the man sitting next to him. He did not look up from his magazine, but Jack studied him suspiciously.

  ‘Are you listening to me?’ said the voice. ‘Do I have your attention?’

  ‘Yes!’ Jack said to the man. ‘You have my attention! What is it you want?’

  The man looked up, startled by Jack’s outburst. Jack immediately began to regret his aggressive behaviour.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said to the man. ‘I’m a little on edge today.’ He forced a smile, baring his teeth. ‘Were you talking to me?’

  ‘No,’ said the man.

  ‘Please forgive me,’ Jack told him. ‘Return to your magazine.’

  The man rolled his eyes, then started reading again. ‘Don’t talk to him,' said the voice. ‘Talk to me.'

  Jack was now certain that the man was deliberately fooling around with him while trying to look as innocent as possible.

  ‘That’s very rude!’ he said. ‘Throwing your voice in a waiting room! That’s a very rude thing to do!’

  The man looked up with a bewildered expression. ‘What?’

  ‘See?’ the woman on the other side of Jack said to the man. ‘Everybody thinks you’re rude.’

  ‘Why don’t you just shut up,’ the man said to her.

  Jack was baffled by this exchange, having assumed until now that the two were strangers to one another.

  ‘We have to talk,’ said the voice.

  ‘No we don’t,’ Jack said to the man.

  ‘Don’t what?’ the man asked.

  ‘We don’t have to talk.’

  ‘Yes we do,’ said the voice.

  Jack glared hatefully at the man until he became aware that the woman was staring at him.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked her.

  ‘Are you feeling all right?’ she enquired.

  ‘Would I be in a doctor’s office if I was feeling all right?’

  ‘You d
on’t have to snap my head off!’

  Jack began to wonder. There was something rather familiar about her voice.

  ‘Say that again,’ he requested.

  ‘Huh?’ said the woman.

  ‘Say that again. Only lower your voice just a bit.’

  The woman frowned, then shrugged. ‘Well, all right.' She lowered her voice. ‘You don’t have to snap my head off.’ She smiled at him. ‘How was that?’

  ‘A little lower,’ said Jack.

  In an even lower voice, the woman said, ‘You don’t have to snap my head off.’

  ‘Ah-ha!’ Jack said triumphantly. ‘It’s you! You’re the one!’

  The man leaned across him. ‘I can’t believe you!’ he said to the woman. ‘You’re such a push-over. You’ll do anything anyone asks - even a perfect stranger.’

  ‘Drop dead,’ she responded.

  ‘Listen to me,' said the voice. ‘Please! Who are you? What’s your name?’

  ‘Will you leave me alone!’ Jack demanded of the woman.

  ‘I’m not doing anything!’ she insisted. ‘What am I doing? Tell me what I’m supposed to be doing?!’

  ‘I’m not out there,’ said the voice. ‘I’m in here!’ Jack turned to the man. ‘There! Did you hear that? You’re my witness. What did she say?’

  The man considered. ‘She said, “What am I doing? Tell me what I’m supposed to be doing?” ’

  ‘No, no! After that! After that!’

  ‘I didn’t hear a thing.’

  For a moment Jack was shocked. Then he began to feel paranoid.

  ‘I get it,’ he said to both the woman and the man. ‘You’re both in this together, aren’t you? It’s a conspiracy, isn’t it?’

  The man simply glared past him at the woman before saying, ‘We prefer to think of it as a bad marriage.’

  ‘I told you,’ the voice insisted, ‘I’m not out there! I'm in here! In you! Right inside your body!’

  Jack finally knew that it was neither the man nor the woman. There was no one else in the waiting room. A feeling of pure terror washed through him.

  ‘Somebody help me,’ he murmured.

  The woman put a hand on his arm. ‘What is it?’ she asked softly.

  Jack’s voice cracked as he said, ‘I’m possessed by a demon!’

  When Dr Greenbush returned to his examination room, he saw Jack lying flat on his back on the floor with his legs raised straight up against the wall. Jack wreathed loudly and slowly through his mouth as Greenbush squatted beside him.

  Good news,’ Greenbush said in quite a matter-of-fact tone. ‘I think we can rule out demonic possession right off the bat.’

  Jack looked around at him. ‘But this little voice is talking to me.’

  Greenbush smiled. ‘See? That proves it. Demons talk through you, not to you.’

  Jack reflected on this. It brought no comfort. He said as much to Greenbush. Then he raised his arms until his fingertips touched above his head before slowly lowering them to the floor again. Greenbush was forced to duck to avoid being hit.

  Do you mind if I ask you something?’ Greenbush said.

  ‘Go ahead.’

  What are you doing?’

  ‘I began to hyperventilate,’ Jack told him. ‘This usually does the trick.’

  He took three more deep breaths, then sprang to his feet.

  ‘Yeah,’ he announced. ‘That feels better now.’

  Inside the pod, Tuck saw Greenbush on his monitor. ‘A doctor!’ he exclaimed. ‘Thank God! A man of science! Someone who will understand!’

  Jack instantly began to panic again.

  ‘It’s happening right now!’ he told Greenbush. Hurry! I can hear the voice now!’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Greenbush said. ‘We’ll check it out.' He produced his ear-examination light and raised it to Jack’s ear.

  ‘Please!’ Tuck yelled from the pod. ‘Talk to your doctor for me! Tell him I’m in, uh . . He paused to glance at the computer display. ‘Tell him I’m in the Tympanic Cavity!’

  Tuck was certain that this precise anatomical term would capture the doctor’s attention. He turned to look out through the viewing dome.

  A brilliant, searing blaze of light flooded the pod. Tuck covered his eyes against its blinding intensity. But it was too late. As the light blinked out, he took his hands away from his face. But he could see nothing. ‘Oh God!’ he said. ‘Oh God! I’m blinded!’ Greenbush withdrew the light from Jack’s ear and switched it off.

  ‘Sorry, Jack,’ he said. ‘Didn’t see a thing.’

  ‘You can’t do anything for me!’ Jack said desperately.

  ‘Go home,’ Greenbush said as gently as possible. ‘Go home and try to get some rest. That’s what you need most of all. Rest. Take a few of those sleeping pills I gave you. Then we’ll see how you feel in the morning.’

  Jack turned his Volkswagen into the parking area of a small apartment complex. Then he clambered up the stairs to his apartment.

  Once inside, he collapsed into an easy chair, feeling frayed and utterly exhausted. He hadn’t heard the voice since leaving Greenbush’s office, but there wasn’t anything very comforting about this fact. He was convinced that he had already started to crack up.

  God, he felt tired. He closed his eyes, wondering if he could snatch a few hours sleep. At least it was quiet here. At least there was no one else to bother him -

  ‘I CAN SEE!!’ yelled the voice.

  Jack shot up from the chair into the middle of the room as if someone had suddenly electrified the seat of the chair.

  Thank God,’ the voice said, a little more calmly. ‘I can still see.’

  Jack was poised for an attack from any direction. Where are you?!’ he shouted to the empty room. 'Who are you??’

  ‘Jack,’ said the voice, ‘we’ve got ourselves a strange little situation here.’

  Jack was spinning around, peering into all the corners, all the nooks and crannies.

  ‘It knows my name,’ he muttered. ‘Famous psychopaths down through the ages have all had little voices in their heads. And now I have one, too!’

  ‘Jack, listen to me - ’

  ‘No!’ Jack screamed. ‘I won’t! I won’t!’

  He clamped his hands over his ears as tightly as he could.

  ‘Jack!’ said the voice, quite undiminished in volume. ‘Please! Be sensible.’

  ‘Sensible!’ Jack began to snigger. ‘This doesn’t work,’ he said, taking his hands from his ears. ‘I know -I'll watch some TV.’

  'No you won’t,’ said the voice.

  ‘Oh, yeah? Try and stop me.’

  Jack plucked the remote control device from the arm of the sofa and switched the television on. A game-show host was asking an elderly woman with a purple rinse a question about the San Andreas Fault. Jack turned the volume right up.

  Inside the pod, Tuck grew angry. He hit the two Electromagnetic Booster buttons and held them down.

  The game show and its sound vanished and was replaced by strobing white lines on a grey background and a loud static hiss.

  Jack began to hit the buttons on his remote-control to try to re-establish the picture. But the static sounds grew louder and the strobing lines became more frequent, more startling. Then the telephone began to ring.

  Jack snatched the receiver from the cradle.

  ‘Hello?’ he said into the mouthpiece.

  There was no reply. And the phone was still ringing!

  The videorecorder underneath the television suddenly ejected a tape with such force that it flew across the room towards Jack like a bullet out of a gun. Jack ducked and it hit the wall behind him so hard that it embedded itself in the plaster.

  Jack put the phone down. Smoke had begun to billow out of the top of the TV and from the vents at the back. It began to fizz and hiss to the accompaniment of popping sounds.

  Darting into the kitchen, Jack plucked a small fire extinguisher from its bracket on the wall. He rushed back into the living room and began to sp
ray the television with foam.

  At the same time, in the pod, the Electromagnetic Booster unit suddenly flamed out, causing Tuck to withdraw his fingers hastily. He grabbed an on-board fire extinguisher and doused the flames.

  There was silence in Jack’s apartment. Jack stood there, his fire extinguisher still at the ready.

  ‘Jack,’ said the voice, ‘I think we’ve gotten this relationship off on the wrong foot.’

  It was the final straw for Jack. He sank down into the sofa with an expression of defeat.

  ‘I don’t believe this,’ he murmured.

  ‘I am real, Jack,’ said the voice. ‘You do believe that now. don’t you?’

  Jack shook his head, but it wasn’t a denial. ‘I don’t know what to believe.’

  ‘Believe it, Jack,’ the voice continued, ‘because it’s true. Did you ever see that movie where Tony Curtis and Sidney Poitier are handcuffed together?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Jack, unsure of the relevance of this. ‘I remember it.’

  ‘Well, that’s us, Jack.’

  Jack was confused. ‘What are you saying? I’m supposed to be Curtis? Or Poitier?’

  ‘I’m saying we’re in this together, and we have to help each other. You don’t work at the lab, do you?’

  ‘I work at Safeway,’ Jack said.

  ‘And you don’t know anything about the experiment, do you?’

  ‘What experiment?’ This was ludicrous, talking to a voice in his head.

  ‘A miniaturization experiment. My name is Lieutenant Tuck Pendelton, Jack. I’ve been placed in a submersible pod, miniaturized. I was supposed to have been injected into a laboratory rabbit.’ There was a pregnant pause. ‘Somehow I got inside you instead.'

  Jack sat up, thinking about it. He had never heard anything so ridiculous in all his life.

  ‘That’s crazy!’ he said. ‘That’s completely and utterly lunatic.’

  ‘No it’s not.’

  ‘Of course it is. Even assuming such a thing was possible, why would anyone want to do that? Who would allow themselves to be miniaturized, for God’s sake!’

  Again there was a pause. Jack had the impression that the voice inside him - or rather the person to whom the voice belonged - was mulling it over.