by Tobias Wade
Sali’s thoughts were becoming clearer again. The lingering heaviness from the soporific poison used to capture them must be wearing off. She almost missed it, as the feeling was soon replaced by a restless agitation with no outlet to expend it on. Back home, Sali always had the option of logging in and losing herself in one of her favorite shows, or catching up on the news to see whether it was malevolence or stupidity that reigned the day in the Senate halls. And whenever her love for a show or a character became too intense, or her anger at the injustice of the world soured her thoughts, she could always unburden her feelings by empath merging with one of her Cyber friends. The process of granting access to each other’s emotions was a catharsis that always left her feeling peaceful and connected to something greater than herself.
Those things didn’t just seem far away anymore—it was like all the progress and culture of millennia of human achievement had been wiped out overnight. All the triumphs of great men and the poetry of their struggle were so lost and forgotten that they might as well have never existed at all.
How did people live without an internet signal? How did people just sit there in dark and the quiet and listen to their own fears and regrets pile on top of each other without the technology to regulate their feelings? How did people look down at their own small, thin body, standing alone in the dark, knowing that this was the best it was ever going to be? Knowing that age, and sickness, and infirmity, and decay were the very best case scenarios to ever look forward to? No wonder they all went mad and started worshiping a crystal.
It was only her first day offline, and already Sali felt like she was about to lose her mind. Part of her wanted to lie down and sleep, but the more she thought, the faster her heart beat, and the more anxiously she had to pace just to release the tension. If only Gamber had upgraded her heart to allow her to manually set the rate. If only she ever got to choose what happened to her body. If only she hadn’t gotten into that stupid fight with her in the first place. If only the world had been a little more fair, if only…
Sali was on the edge of screaming when a knock on the door interrupted her pacing. She gratefully flung the door open, ready to even talk about old Gravy Train if it meant not having to listen to herself think for one more minute. Harris Johnson was leaning against the door frame however, a long strand of grass sticking out the corner of his mouth.
“I’m in,” Sali said, not even waiting for him to speak. “I don’t care how we do it. I’m not spending the rest of my naturally short life a billion miles past nowhere.”
Harris grinned. There was something almost predatory about the way his teeth glowed in the light of a nearby torch. He slowly removed the strand of grass from his mouth, preparing to speak. Sali pushed past him without waiting for him to respond.
“For the last time, you aren’t my Captain. If you ever tell me to do something that decreases my chances of getting out, I’m going to do what’s best for me. We clear on that?”
“There’s more to being a Captain than bossing people around. It’s about someone being there to bring out the best in you, to believe in you even when you can’t believe in yourself. You’ve got nothing to fear, little lady. I don’t expect to get far without that clever head of yours.”
“After watching what happened to Tareesh, I’m going to have to insist my body gets out as well.”
“Yes ma’am. That body would be an awful thing to waste.”
“And while you’re at it, you can wipe that smile off your face. It gives me the creeps. Where are Elden and Ramnus? I assume they’re coming too.”
“I’ve got them searching the jungle for where the locals are keeping the pods. I wouldn’t have said no to a little shut eye first, but time isn’t on our side tonight. You see what I see up there?”
Harris Johnson gestured up at the thick canopy of trees. Sali squinted into the darkness, shielding her eyes from the torchlight to give them a chance to adjust. There was definitely more light there had been earlier in the night when they first woke up.
“Stars. The stars are back.”
“The stars have always been there, darling. It’s just that the things in the way have moved.”
“If you’re going to ask for help from my clever head, then you don’t get to explain things like I’m an idiot. So either the Draiths have left, or…”
“Or they’re already here,” Harris interrupted. “Oh, right, sorry, I bet you already had that worked out. Either way, I don’t think they’re still hanging around the Galactic Express.”
“Why aren’t you searching with the others? Why’d you wait so long to get me?”
“Oh I’ve got something else in mind that I need your help with. The locals aren’t going to be keen on us getting out of here, especially not after what their crystal said. Of course I don’t believe in any of that crystal magic—it’s all just some trick the shaman does as far as I’m concerned—but as long as the rest of them believe it, we’re going to need to tread careful like. And that’s where you come in.”
Sali narrowed her eyes, glancing from side to side to make sure they were alone. Of course the crystal wasn’t magic, although she’d been so busy thinking about her own plight that she hadn’t spared a thought to what was really going on.
“You think the shaman rigged a speaker inside the crystal somehow,” she said. “That he’s playing pre-recorded messages or something to get people to do what he says.”
“I don’t know the first thing about how any of that stuff works, but I’m counting on you to figure it out. Even if we can just get the crystal to start making some weird noises, that might be enough of a distraction to help us get out of here.”
“You’re not half as dumb as you look, you know,” Sali said, allowing herself to relax. “If you can buy me some time alone with the crystal, then I bet I can figure out what’s going on.”
“I’ve also been called twice as handsome as I look, you know,” Harris Johnson replied with more self-assurance than is warranted from such a vapid statement.
Harris had been leaning closer while he spoke, a gesture that could have easily been excused on account of their secret plans. Sali pulled away and began walking back up the hill to where the Quasi Crystal was planted. She could feel the older man’s eyes following her in a way that made her think back to the predatory smile he’d greeted her with. He’d been so quick to leave the others on the ship and let Tareesh volunteer to be the scape goat. She had no doubt that he’d be just as quick to leave her or the others if he got the chance. No-one would have been sent here in the first place if they weren’t guilty of one thing or another. They may be working together for now, but Sali couldn’t allow herself to be the weak one who let herself be used next. It was everyone for themselves out here, and she wouldn’t forget it.
The village was eerily silent as they passed between the dark trees. Sali expected at least a few people to be out enjoying the cool pleasant night after a hot and sticky day, but the locals must have all taken the crystal’s warning to heart. The pair of them were able to walk unhindered all the way up to the pale stone which shimmered forlornly in the starlight. Sali took her time peering through the silent woods around them while Harris strode directly to the crystal and rapped upon it with his knuckle.
“Hello hello?” he called softly. “Anyone in there?”
“Don’t be a fool. Help me look for wires or something. Tap on the other rocks, see if any of them are hollow or fake.”
“The crystal only spoke when the shaman put blood on it, remember?”
“I’m using all my blood, thanks anyway,” Sali said, crawling around the base on her hands and knees. The smell of dried blood on the crystal was making her nauseous again, and it was worse for knowing it had so recently come from Tareesh. What had that poor idiot been thinking?
“Good thing you brought a man along then.”
Harris Johnson grunted in pain, causing Sali to rise into a squat. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she watched him drop a shar
p stone and press his bloody finger against the base of the crystal.
“A man does know that’s a sure way to get an infection, right? Please tell me you aren’t starting to believe it’s really magic.”
“What is it, Ang? What do you want? Do you have any idea what time it is?” resonated the crystal.
Sali froze. The vibrations were even more powerful up close. She could feel her bones hum in harmony with the words. Where were they coming from though? Why did it feel so much like the world itself was speaking to them?
“Is this about the Draiths? Have they attacked the village already? Why aren’t you answering, Ang?”
“Is everything alright, dear? Come back to bed,” a second, gentler voice resonated from the crystal.
“Shhh I’m talking to… wait a second. Where is Ang? Who are you people?”
“Yes, this is Ang,” Harris Johnson said, raising his voice in a rather miserable impersonation of the shaman. The pitch was almost right, but he utterly failed to disguise his accent and gave the overall impression of a sickly and congested pig with a bit of a cocaine problem.
“Only the Grand Shaman is permitted to speak with the great Quasi Crystal! How dare you wake me up—I mean disturb my eternal meditations.”
Sali winced as the vibrations traveled through her body, numbing her bones and rattling all the way to her teeth. She retreated back toward the tree line at once. She made it about a dozen steps before noticing that Harris Johnson hadn’t moved. His hands were still on the crystal, and he stared transfixed into its depths as though mesmerized by something only he could see.
“Enough of this nonsense. You said you wouldn’t take work calls after 10 PM. You promised!” the second voice scolded from the crystal.
“Hush dear, you know how important your—” Cough. “I mean, capture the defilers of the sacred order! Do not let this transgression go unpunished! Where is Ang? Bring me the Grand Shaman!”
Harris Johnson still wasn’t moving. His mouth was slack with awe. Sali turned around and began to move back toward him, but a thundering of feet through the thick undergrowth caused her to shrink back toward the trees once more. Something definitely un-mystical was going on, but there was no time to explore the mystery. Torches were flaring to life all around them through the trees, and the voices and shouting from the converging locals grew louder by the moment. At least they got the distraction they came for, right?
A hand gripped Sali powerfully by the arm. She jolted like a cat sprayed by a hose.
“Let go of—”
“Quiet!” Ramnus’ voice hissed. “We found the pods, and the guards have just run off. We need to get out of here—now!”
Sali turned back toward the crystal and locked eyes with Harris Johnson who had remained fixed in place. He looked so frightened, so helpless, so alone.
“Seize the newcomer! Do not let him speak! The Quasi Crystal demands it!” roared the Grand Shaman.
What had he seen in the crystal? Why didn’t he run when he had the chance? The pressure on Sali’s arm increased, and she didn’t fight it anymore. She followed Ramnus back into the cover of the undergrowth, and together they ran away from the shouting and the booming vibrations around the crystal. It was everyone for themselves, wasn’t it? But why did that have to mean leaving so many behind?
Free to go?
“He isn’t screaming? Not even a little?” Senator Hallum asked.
“No sir. His avatar has just been lying there all night, staring at the ceiling since it woke up,” the Mask replied. The words came muffled through the air filter, but Hallum liked having them keep them on at all times. It kept him from having to remember anyone’s name.
The burden of Prison Block D14 was growing on Hallum. It had been taking up so much of his time lately that he’d been dropping his other obligations one by one. His wife was right—he really did need to set better boundaries with his work life. Once this virus situation was resolved would be an excellent chance for them to take a vacation. Somewhere he could just relax and yell at people all day long without worrying whether they could vote.
“That’s a little disappointing, isn’t it?” Hallum sniffed. “They usually scream when their avatar dies.”
“Yes sir, screaming is traditional.” The guard nodded vigorously, escorting the Senator into the inner chamber where the flowers of sleeping bodies spread peacefully around the gurgling machines. “I had already begun to login to commence his debriefing.”
“Log my avatar instead. I have a special interest in this matter.”
“Sir? With all due respect, debriefing is an officer responsibility. All interactions with active prisoners are to be mediated through the assigned Mask.”
“Don’t be daft. Are you trying to use the rules against me? Who do you think wrote them in the first place?”
Senator Hallum stood over Tareesh’s sleeping body, then looked to the overhead screens to find his avatar. The young man sat crosslegged on the wooden bench of a virtual prison cell, his eyes closed in quiet meditation.
“I’m sorry, sir, but regulation 4C clearly states—” the Mask persisted, hopping from one foot to the other trying to get Hallum’s attention.
“Ah ah ah.” Hallum’s wrist snapped out, producing a manilla folder bristling with official seals. “But what about the paperwork here for regulation 12F, which clearly grants me the authority to have all your organs removed, pickled, and then reinserted just to see if that improves your performance? Isn’t that a bit more relevant in this type of situation?”
A sound came through the mask that would have been about right for a vacuum sucking up a mouse. “Yes, sir. Extremely relevant, 12F is. It’s just that… I thought we were friends, Senator.”
“All my friends died before I was born,” Hallum replied stiffly. “You and the other Masks will be making an unscheduled patrol around the building. Don’t come back for at least half an hour, and oh—don’t forget to turn off the cameras on your way out. Politics is impossible without a little privacy, you understand.”
“I thought it best to deliberately stop understanding everything after you made your desires clear, sir. You heard the Senator, everyone out!”
“Much better. Real officer material, right there… whoever you are.” The Senator’s finger hovered over the return key while he watched the Mask strut his brisk walk back the way they entered. Hallum then waited another twenty seconds until the security cameras drooped to the ground.
The door of the virtual prison opened, and in stepped a tall, gaunt figure, bearing a striking resemblance to Senator Hallum himself. The virtual version was sporting a magnificent mustache however, something that Hallum had admired immensely on Buddy the janitor, but lacked the stiff upper lip to ever produce himself.
“You must have done something right, Tareesh Amadad. They gave you one of the good cells. There isn’t even any mysterious liquid oozing from the walls. My, it’s as cozy as a shoebox coffin in here. Not too traumatized by your death, I hope?”
Tareesh opened his eyes, but otherwise did not react. “You’re only as dead as you think you are. I expect you have a lot of questions for me, Senator Hallum. I didn’t remember you having a mustache though.”
“So you recognize me? Clever boy. I don’t count on any of my games working on you.” That was a lie, of course, but so often convincing someone they aren’t playing a game is the only winning move you ever need.
“I’m from the Casum district—you’re my representative. I didn’t vote for you though.”
“Quite alright, I’ve never needed your demographic to win anyway. I’m here to talk about that little experience you just had.”
“About how I knew it was a simulation?”
Senator Hallum pressed his lips together to produce an undercooked smile, saying nothing. Perhaps the boy wouldn’t look so smug if he knew he hadn’t escaped at all, and that the cell he occupied was yet another portion of the virtual world.
“I’ll admit you had me foole
d at first,” Tareesh continued. “The detail in your system is way more sophisticated than anything I’ve played with before. It wasn’t until I recognized the Draith that I knew it couldn’t be real. You must already know that I’m the one who created the virus though, if someone as important as a Senator is here in person.”
Hallum and his mustache both scowled magnificently at the subtle slight. The fact was that Prian Senators weren’t nearly as distinguished a class as they once had been. Long ago the Senate had realized that the best way for them to keep their jobs was to simply add more Senate seats every time it looked like someone new was about to be elected. The ranks had grown over the years to the point where each individual Senator had an insignificant amount of responsibility. For this reason, Hallum’s influence didn’t extend far beyond prison Block D14, although that was still better than some Senators who had to team up into oversight committees to threaten anyone properly. There were now so may of these committees that inevitably two would begin overseeing each other, causing an endless loop of litigation which kept all the right lawyers employed for years.
Hallum’s mustache curled upward once more. “Writing the virus is nothing to be ashamed about; it was a fine bit of code. It’s so gratifying to see that you’ve decided to be cooperative. Of course I expected as much, considering that you would have told the other prisoners that they were in a simulation too if you didn’t care about my approval. You wanted me to like you though, and it’s clearly succeeded. I don’t mind admitting that I like you immensely.”
“Everyone likes to be liked, sir, but I’d rather be free if it’s all the same to you.”
“Free? Of course you’re free,” Hallum said, his avatar gesturing vaguely at the concrete walls around them. “You passed the test. You sacrificed yourself heroically for the good of your team, and proved your spirit has elevated beyond the typical criminal banalities. At least, that’s what the oversight panel will approve if I submit it that way. In reality, I think you’ll find the world will remain a confusing and frightening place until you tell me everything about this virus of yours.”
