by Ernest Filak
Holy cow. During the last few days my contacts with Ingrid were quite limited, but he must have noticed something. And if he did, then others might have seen it too. The ground under my feet started shaking a bit. It’s not good, Pavel, fuck, no good at all.
“No, I wasn’t praying. I do come from a religious family, but I’m not really bound to any religious community,” I needed time to think through all the possible repercussions, but I decided I could give reveal a bit. “I have problems with my subconscious.”
“Do you have nightmares?” he asked.
I knew Ingrid would rip my balls off for it, but I didn’t see any other way and nodded.
“You should talk to a psychologist,” he suggested.
“I have already talked to a company psychologist,” he made me laugh, “back in Bio&Sonic. This is where it all started.”
If the bitch hadn’t send me a love doll I wouldn’t have to share my body with an Artificial Intelligence who loved digging through my most secret thoughts. And nothing could hide from Ingrid.
“You’ve worked for Bio&Sonic?” He stared at me with his eyes wide open. “I knew I had seen you somewhere before.”
He must have seen the corny propaganda movie made by the unionists. Of course most of the footage had been doctored up and didn’t have much to do with the real events. But I had to admit that the cutters knew their job. I had to go through the whole thing a few times to see the difference between the truth and CGI.
My and Theodore’s active participation in the uprising in the base was something we were not supposed to discuss with anybody, so I kept quiet. After a few futile attempts to get some details from me, Uncle let it go.
“You had to go through hell.” Of course, he also believed that a massacre had taken place there.
For my own egoistic reasons, I didn’t want to tell him the truth. What for? I didn’t want to shatter his belief in the ideals. Bah, I could use some of that myself.
“I’m neither a psychologist, nor a priest,” he said. “But I guess I could help you.”
“How?” I asked, without really believing he could. “My subconscious is quite a piece of ass and she’s not going to pass easy.”
“Have you ever tried meditation?”
I admit this I didn’t have the faintest idea about. He described the general idea in a few words. It didn’t sound bad and it didn’t require taking any drugs. The only disadvantage was that you needed time to practice and the effects were not quickly visible, but on the other hand it was totally safe.
I definitely have the time. Apart from keeping watch and cleaning I don’t really have anything to do. So I decide to give it a try. Let’s see what happens.
So he teaches me the procedure during the rest of my shift. It turns out that I have to learn to breathe properly, concentrate on chosen parts of my body, and even learn to think anew. Time flies like crazy. I never thought that digging into my own psyche could be so much fun. Getting back at least some control over my subconscious is motivational enough.
“Have you been practising this long?” I ask Uncle between the exercises.
He sends me a mysterious smile.
“A while.”
“What other applications does it have?” I’m curious like hell.
“Great masters are able to stay in touch with each other all the time through space.”
“It’s like SUMS then,” I’m guessing.
“It’s not exactly the best comparison, but yes. It’s not so reliable though. It doesn’t always work and requires years of practice.”
“What else?”
“Generally, it calms your body down, improves circulation and self-confidence. It hasn’t been fully explored yet. You have to train yourself and see the results yourself. It’s just a set of tools that everybody uses differently. I have told you too much for the first time, I guess.”
“Come on,” I didn’t want him to stop. “Who knows what another day may bring? We might be caught by a Devourer, or worse, by Sergeant Gall.
I said it deadpan. I had already learnt that I had to appreciate every day. And not put things off. It wasn’t worth it.
Uncle Kola was a really cool guy. He revealed a few more secrets to me. I found out about Refugium, a place that I can always retreat to rest, with a hut in there where I could always experiment. I don’t know how much of it was real wisdom and how much was just odd stuff, but everything fit together and opened a totally new unexplored world to me that I didn’t even know existed.
Halfway through his watch I found out about one more thing.
“You should build an image of a spiritual guide in your head.”
I listened with renewed interest.
“Yes?”
“It can’t be a real person. You have to create someone, an ideal, a person who you would trust completely.”
Fuck. I don’t think I should have any problems with it. I don’t really need anyone new in this department – Ingrid is more than enough. I couldn’t stand one more personality. Besides, even if I believed someone like that existed, my AI would destroy them with one move of her finger. A very jealous woman she is.
Through all this theoretical feed I completely forgot about the whole world. My stomach started rumbling and I realised it was time to go to the toilet. In the end I decided to once more practise the whole procedure of getting in touch with my inner self.
Off we go then. Breathing, concentration, darkness. I imagine absolute darkness. Somewhere within it a lone island starts taking shape. I imagine waves rolling onto the beach. I’m walking along the sandy strip, feeling the warmth of heated sand under my feet.
I find a spot on the opposite wall of my guardhouse somehow distracting, but in line with the theory I try to ignore it.
Shit! Not paying attention, I walk into a narrow stream. I drink fresh cold water. It’s so much better than the synthetically treated water we drink. Move on! So I walk inside the island. In the middle of it there is a mountain towering over the rest of the landscape, but I’m not going to walk so far away. After a few yards I see a stilt hut. It’s so nice to lean against the porch railing and watch the seagulls. I turn around to face a bamboo door, behind which, according to all the teaching I received, I should find a studio with the key to my subconscious. I open the door wide.
“Hello Pavel,” says Ingrid and slams my face with an open palm.
Ouch! It really hurt!
“You’re a dirty pig, scum and a pervert!” she shouts.
There’s no way taking control of my own subconscious was supposed to be easy. Without a word I walk past my AI and sit down in a rocking chair. A glass of first-class beer appears in my hand.
“No way, we have to talk.” The glass disappears and no amount of mental struggle on my side is going to bring it back.
“Ingrid, honey, we have to think about the future. We can’t meet only to have sex or whenever I shit my pants with fear,” I explain the problems with the specifics of our relationship in the gentlest way possible.
“You haven’t spoken to me for a week. And I don’t remember the last time we had sex. I’m a healthy woman and I have my needs,” she thunders at me.
“And when was the last time we really had the opportunity?” I try to protect myself. “Everywhere it’s just hiding, shooting, stress, Star Troopers, revolutionaries and Devourers to cap it all.”
“It’s little things,” she says, but I know her well enough to see the first signs of a better mood.
She sits on my lap and cuddles up to me. Her black hair smells so sensual.
“I love you,” she whispers. “And I’m not angry with you anymore.”
“How is your training going?” I can hear Uncle Kola. “Have you got the key?”
I glance at the table over my woman’s bare arm.
“Haven’t you seen a key?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer. She places her slender hands on my neck and softly rubs them up and down. It’s not worth asking anymore.
<
br /> “I can’t find it,” I say out loud.
“It’s the problems of a novice,” Kola reassures me. “Imagine a book lying on the table and write a word on it. I wonder if I will be able to read it.”
Before I manage to carry out the task I see a fountain pen in Ingrid’s hand. She writes FUCK YOU in capitals, then throws the book to the other side of the room.
“Have you written something?”
“I have.” It wasn’t entirely true, but something had been written and I can’t take Ingrid of my lap. Not in a moment like this. Her hands keep sliding down my belly.
“I’ve missed you.”
“I get nonsense here. You have to practise more.” Uncle isn’t very happy with the result of my training. “Imagine a holovision screen and try to send me a moving image. Sometimes it’s a bit easier to do it this way.”
“Wait a second,” I reply and the AI stands up.
A black surface appears on the wall. It’s about a hundred inches diagonal. It’s a marvel. Ingrid walks up to the display, first inserts her hand into it and then she disappears whole. Uncle Kola’s body starts shaking and he starts swearing.
“This must be all this stress,” he mumbles under his breath.
A second later Ingrid comes back and sits on my lap again.
“A very interesting experience. I didn’t know something like that was even possible.”
“What happened?” I ask my teacher.
“Let’s call it a day,” he says resigned. “Ever since my wife died I’ve been celibate. And now this dark-haired, half-naked, attractive woman appears out of nowhere and says: I’m not going to blow your dick, old geezer. Go away and wank off yourself. That must be the Star Troopers’ wet dreams talking. They interfere with the meditation.”
Uncle Kola knows better. He is the master after all. I stick to the rules and start the exit procedure. I feel really tired. It’s time to grab something to eat. In the end Ingrid hugs me.
“Now you can get in touch with me whenever you can. Come by in the evening. I’ll fix something special,” she promises.
Chapter XI
Days go by and we’re still stuck in the base. Even a short walk on the surface is out of the question. We’re living like moles in the darkness. The underground is our home. Everybody is very irritable. Their answers are always monosyllabic, if any. The captain is doing his best to keep people in shape. There’s a spate of administrative punishments.
We’re all glancing indifferently at a soldier who is being whipped. The First Sergeant Stevens is executing the order. All others who are not on duty are lined to watch, including us, the revolutionaries. The squad commander, Alexy Pierunov, moons over the officer of the Star Troopers with admiration. He’s almost eating out of his hand. He sometimes imitates the way Nemov speaks, through quite ineptly.
“Four!” Sergeant Gall counts out another strike.
The whip cuts through the air with a swoosh and coils around the soldier. It leaves a burning red mark.
“Five!”
Another blow cuts the swollen body open. The first stream of blood starts trickling down. The soldier screams out and loses the piece of plastic that he had been biting in his mouth. We look at his suffering and we don’t care. I’d heard and read so much about friendship bonds between soldiers. It’s just fairy tales for small children. Everybody only thinks about how to protect their own ass, not caring much about others. Of course within a squad there might be friendships between individuals. It is only within such bonds that you can count on support.
“Six!” Gall shouts again.
His voice and the screaming of the beaten soldier carry well in the empty room. In the next hall two fighters and a shuttle are waiting, ready for take-off. The problem is there are no qualified pilots around, so the planes are no use. I keep quiet about having done a piloting course. I’d rather not step out of line. Enough is going on up there.
“Seven!”
The beaten soldier is hardly able to stand on his feet. A few more whips and he hangs limp with his hands tied to an arm of a crane.
Nobody feels sorry for the guy in this particular case. The witnesses even find some satisfaction in assisting in the punishment. Thirty whips is the highest possible verdict available without calling in a court. The culprit didn’t appeal from the captain’s decision. If he had, he would have been lynched for sure.
The private was really unlucky. Without any notice or permission from anyone he switched on the sensors and cameras on the outside access perimeter of the base. The idiot failed to switch it off when one of the cameras recorded a Devourer nearby. The Aliens discovered our secret and were able to localize our complex. Somehow through a special sense or particularly sensitive gauges they could detect electric currents.
First thing they did was destroy the defense system of the base, which lasted a moment. Before we even realized what was going on, the Devourers got to the observation dome. The poor chap who was keeping watch at the time didn’t have enough time to fully enjoy the warmth of the electric heater he’d fixed for himself. After a few shots the ferroconcrete cover of the post was destroyed. We didn’t find the body. Nobody even tried to look for it. The Aliens weren’t stupid and noticed the connection shaft that had been dug in the rock.
“Ten!”
Just as we could imagine, the convicted soldier was hanging without movement. After the next few whips he lost consciousness and didn’t come round until the very end. He was then lifted up by his buddies who had been assigned the task of carrying him to the infirmary.
“At ease!” an officer issues out a command.
Sergeant Gall and the commander of the revolutionaries echo the order.
“Dismissed!”
That is the end of attractions planned for today. Sunshine pecks Theodore on the lips and runs to the kitchen. That means a queue to the john in the evening. She isn’t a bad cook. There is just no comparative scale for her deeds on the kitchen front. I already feel sorry for my own butt cheeks. This is going to hurt.
My buddy watches her walk away and sighs. I don’t know if he is missing her already or also anticipating a culinary disaster.
“Shall we go?” I ask.
“Yes. Let’s get the ammo first,” he says.
After the Alien attack, our duties have changed. We no longer keep watch, as the observation point had evaporated. Our main duty is to take care of the Mech. This isn’t our shift and in fact it is our time off, but we’ve decided to use the opportunity and pop into the nearest storage room. It’s better to do it now when there are two of us than haul the heavy crates alone later.
We don’t have any problems with getting the ammo for the canons. It’s enough if we scribble our signatures on the right form.
“Uncle thinks you’re married,” I say to Theodore.
I think this would make him laugh but it doesn’t.
“If we ever manage to get out of this mess,” he says seriously, “we’re going to get married.”
I whistle.
“So that’s what you’re up to. You’ve quite fallen for her, haven’t you?”
“I don’t like the big words but it’s hard to describe it with the small ones.”
I always thought their relationship wouldn’t stand the test of time. They hit it off at a time of constant threat to life. Somewhere between one quickie and another they seem to have developed stronger feelings.
“Congratulations,” I truly wish them all the best.
Of the original Kappa 12 construction team only we remained alive.
“And what about you? Sunshine is worried and she asked me to find out how things are with you,” he takes me by surprise.
I almost stumble and stop.
“Sunshine is worried? And about me?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
So far we’re had a pretty rough relationship. I get the impression that she was jealous that I had known Theodore a bit longer. We didn’t use to tell her about everything, especia
lly about the confidential project on Hades or the events in Bio&Sonic. There were things we kept from her, and for her own good.
“Don’t exaggerate. She’s not so bad. When you get closer to her you see she’s better than you thought.”
“Well, you need to get very close first,” I can’t help being a bit mean.
“Do you want me to box your ears?” he asks considerately.
“Maybe another time.”
We walk on along a narrow corridor.
“You’ve become friendly with Uncle,” he states the fact rather than asks.
“He’s ok,” I admit. “He teaches me meditation.”
“What?”
“Meditation, you moron. You’ve got your Sunshine. I’ve got my own demons. Thanks to these sessions I somehow hold up.”
“Don’t get mad! I guess I preferred it when you kept talking to yourself,” he moans.
“Fuck off.”
For the next couple of minutes we walk in silence.
“What’s happening next?” I break the silence.
“And what do you expect?” We take another break to even out our breathing.
I crouch under the wall. He takes out a narcocigarette. Before lighting up he quickly looks both ways. I guess his woman has already banned smoking. The guy is already henpecked.
“Do you want one?” he asks.
I refuse. Ingrid doesn’t tolerate addictions either.
“We’re safe here, underground,” he shares his opinions and I listen attentively. “The Aliens can’t squeeze in here. We have food provisions that will last for months. The cooperation between revolutionaries and the separatists has worked very well so far. What else can you expect?”
“And what if the Devourers find our launch tube?”
“We’ll go down deeper. If we need to, we’ll get inside a well shaft. Besides, the hangar is hidden behind a hill. Those guys from Uroboros did figure it out pretty well.”
He put my mind at ease. And at that particular moment the earth started shaking. Bulbs hanging at large intervals burst. Huge parts of the ceiling fell to the floor. After a while everything went quiet to resume with more intensity soon after.
