The Rage Room

by Lisa de Nikolits

  That got my attention. I focused and swung around to him. “For real? What do you mean?” Why was he telling me now? He’d seemed so circumspect. What if it was true? What if I could go back?

  Shasta and Knox leaned forward too.

  Norman looked around. “He says he can. He could be lying.”

  “Tell me what you know,” I said. I grabbed his shoulder and shook him.

  “Easy, Shane,” Knox said. “Maybe we should go for a smoke before we get into this.”

  “No,” I said through gritted teeth. “You don’t understand. I need to know now.”

  “He lives about two hours from here,” Norman said. “St. Adrian’s. There are some underground tunnels there, and once a year they have a secret biohacker convention.”

  “A secret and yet you know?” Shasta was skeptical. “And here you are, telling us.”

  “Shane needs to know,” Norman said. “I haven’t told anyone else.”

  “How super-intuitive of you.” Shasta was sarcastic.

  “Will you let the guy talk?” I was getting desperate.

  Norman shrugged. “Not much more to tell you. But we could go there if you like.”

  I jumped up. “When?”

  “Now, if you like.”

  I was surprised. “What about work?”

  “It’s Friday night! We’ve got the whole weekend!”

  I had completely lost track of time.

  “I want to come too,” Shasta said, and Knox stood up, grinning.

  “Me too,” he said. “Road trip.”

  I was wary. “Why do you all want to come? Norman, how many devices or whatever does this guy have to sell?”

  “No idea. I don’t even know how it works.”

  “And you’re sure this guy’s even still around?”

  “Yeah, man. I just flashed him to check.” Norman pointed at his portable comm. “He said he’ll be there.”

  “How much?” I asked, and Norman raised an eyebrow.

  “Twenty thou cash. You good for that?”

  I was. The jewellery I’d grabbed before leaving had gotten me plenty of cash. I nodded, and Knox looked delighted.

  “Next round’s on you, buddy,” he said and waved the bartender over. Shasta grinned. “I’ll have a Manhattan!” she yelled.

  “I thought we were going now?” Norman asked.

  “We are going now,” I said, no argument allowed.

  “Aren’t you being like just a bit too trusting?” Shasta asked me. “I mean, time travel, for real?

  “I’ve got nothing left to lose,” I said. “Let’s make like Donald and duck.” It was a stupid line and one I’d wanted to use all my life. I grinned. I felt happier. Still hungover, still drunk, but happier.

  “Hey,” I said. “I’m over the limit. The car will prohibit me from driving. Oh shit. Norman, you’re sober as a church mouse—you drive.”

  Knox threw back the rest of his drink and Shasta grabbed her purse.

  We piled into my station bubble that was a bit rank from me having slept in it for weeks. No one commented on the smell or the mess of fast food containers, although Knox dug out a plastic bag from somewhere and started cleaning up the debris around his and Shasta’s feet. Knox was in seventh heaven. A road trip with Shasta would give him all the time in the world to convince her that he was the man of her dreams. Only Shasta grabbed my pillow from the back, leaned against a window, and fell fast asleep. I saw the look on Knox’s face—he was sunk in disappointment—and he suddenly looked far older than he did when he was his fired-up animated self.

  Norman settled his bulk into the driver seat and turned on the car. The nightly rain was falling, and the sound of the windscreen wipers was reassuring as they slapped back and forth.

  The highway to St. Adrian’s was lined with long-haul trucker trains, wall-to-wall, flying by and spraying roosters in the red brake lights. The oncoming lanes were steady with big loads pushing through the night.

  I was trying to figure out what to do when I time travelled. Which would be the best point of entry where I could make it right? I needed to pinpoint the spot when it started to go so wrong. Meanwhile my brain kept worrying that the whole thing was a hoax and that there was no time machine. It will be fine, I told myself. Why would Norman lie?

  “Can we you tell him we’re on our way?” I whispered to Norman, not wanting to wake Shasta or Knox, who had also fallen asleep.

  “Sure,” Norman said, and he activated a speech comm, murmuring too low for me to understand what he was saying, even although he was sitting right next to me.

  “It’s on,” he said.

  “And he’s definitely got the gadget or whatever?”

  “He’s got it. Goddamn this road is boring.”

  We didn’t speak again until we stopped for snacks and a pee break and I took the wheel.

  “Turn right here,” Norman told me an hour later, just outside of St. Adrian’s. I figured he was getting directions via his CP. The sun was rising. There was a peachy glow to the world, and the sky was baby-blue and cloudless. Distracted for a moment by the beauty and knowing how fake it was, I wondered what the real world would be like, without all of Minnie’s weather control.

  We turned down a side road, and the bubble bumped along the rutted lane. Shasta and Knox woke up. “I need to shake the snake again,” Knox said, and Shasta laughed.

  “Me too.”

  “You gotta a snake?” Knox joked. “I never noticed. C’mon, Norman, three minutes to let us let a load off.”

  I pulled over with an exaggerated sigh, and they got out. I thought of pulling off and leaving Knox and Shasta as their dilly dallying was bugging the shit out of me.

  “Shane,” Norman said, “you gotta ease up, man. Jaxen’s there. It’s all good. Lighten up buddy. This is going to take a while. We can’t just ram in there, throw the money down, and start using the gadget. We also need to eat. You need to chill. They’ll want to talk to you, bond a bit. You get it?”

  I gave a loud groan, and Norman dug into his pocket. “Shane. Sharps.” I looked at him with horror.

  “Sharps?” I squeaked.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I know who you are. I’m the rage room guy, remember? I know you. I know everything. You need to take one of these.”

  I eyed the pill he was holding out with suspicion. “I need to have my faculties about me,” I said.

  “And you will. This will level you out. Heightened powers of concentration along with nerves of steel and the calm of a sleeping baby. Trust me, Sharps. You’re outta control. You need this, man.”

  “Where are those guys?” I replied and leaned out the window. “WTF! They’re having sex! Wasting time! Hey, you guys, WTF!”

  Norman pulled me back into the car and grabbed me by the throat. I thought he was going to strangle me, and my eyes bulged in fear, but he stuck his thumb in my mouth with one hand while he shoved the pill down with the other.

  I choked and swallowed. “Fuck’s sake! Are you for real? Did you just feed me a pill like I was a puppy? Goddammit Norman, you don’t have the right to do that!” I tried to retch, but nothing happened.

  “For your own good,” Norman said calmly, and he was right because almost instantaneously I felt a strangely removed sense of calm, along with an equally strong sense of power. I was the man. I had this. I was the king of the world. Norman watched me and laughed.

  What’s the hurry, man?” Knox showed up at my window. “Just trying to start Shasta’s day off with a bang. Shaz, we’ll pick that up later.” She grinned at him, and I didn’t get it. One minute she was hot for him, the next she was ice cold. She was a lot younger than he was, as far as I could tell, and he was a drifter, a drinker, and a pothead. But then again, Shasta seemed pretty aimless too, happy to float around whichever way the wind blew. I couldn’t care less; I was
n’t even sure why I’d let them come.

  “Make a left here,” Norman said, and I slowed. “Where?” I couldn’t see a road.

  “There’s a trail. We’ll get a little way in and have to walk from there.”

  I pushed the car through as far as I could. “This is it, Norman. I won’t be able to get us out if we go much further.” We were in a real life forest. I was astounded. I thought they’d all been destroyed.

  I pulled the car to a stop and went around to the trunk to get my backpack. It occurred to me that I was in the middle of nowhere with three people I didn’t know from Bob your uncle, about to pull out my life’s savings, or Celeste’s nest egg from the sold jewellery. I was all alone, so they could jump me, take the car, and kill me, or leave me to die in the woods.

  I looked around, fully expecting to see them surrounding me with truculent war expressions, but Knox was chasing Shasta around a log and she was laughing like it was the funniest thing, and Norman was watching them with an indulgent grin.

  No one was even looking my way, and I felt slightly hurt and unloved. “Got it,” I shouted to the trio and locked the car.

  “Follow me,” Norman called out and we fell in line.

  An hour later, we were still picking our way through the forest, tripping over tree roots and twigs. “Crappy real nature,” Knox complained. “No wonder they got rid of all this shit. How did they miss this place? Whole place makes me itchy as shit.” He kept slapping at his head; the mosquitoes were biting, as were the black flies.

  “I thought the whole world was nature-free?” I asked Norman.

  “Nope. Couple of hours out of the city in any direction and there’s all this. People just never bother to explore. They believe the lies they are fed.”

  “You could have mentioned there was a nature hike involved,” Knox complained.

  “I’m so thirsty,” Shasta added.

  “How much longer?” I was ungracious, and my power chill pill had definitely worn off.

  Norman didn’t reply. He just kept pressing on.

  A shot rang through the bush, and Shasta grabbed Knox and pulled him to the ground, her eyes wide and terrified.

  Norman laughed. “Keep your panties on. They’re just having some fun. It’s important you get a sense of these guys. They’re generally not open to strangers coming in. I vouched for you. I’ve been with them forever, and my sister runs the place. She’s been a biohacker since she was seven, trying to make her body like Wonder Woman. Drove my parents nuts. She wants to be a cyborg made of metal. She even had a leg removed so she could have a metal one. Nuts, right? Her goal is to replace her entire body, as much as she can, with steel and metal. She gets off on it. But she’s clever too, studied bio-medical engineering, but she said they were too slow for her. So she started this convention. Jaxen, the guy with the time travel gadget, he made the most advances.”

  “Did he invent the machine?” Shasta asked, still firmly ensconced on Knox’s lap. He looked like he’d died and gone to heaven.

  “Nope. He was at university with my sister, and they discovered it. The military had tested it and decided it was too dangerous to use, so they destroyed the whole operation. At least they thought they’d destroyed it, but Jaxen and Janaelle, that’s my sister, found a laptop with the software and core data. They stole it and disappeared. They’ve been living out here ever since, and it’s been tough. Life didn’t turn out like my sister thought it would, all shiny and electronic and amazing. She hates the way the world is run, all of us with the Crystal Paths in our heads and satellite dishes controlling the weather.”

  “I would have thought she’d love that,” Shasta commented. “Have the whole world be electronic.”

  “She did too. But she says they’ve leached the life out of the planet. Instead of humans becoming faster, stronger, more clever and doing amazing things, the world got lazy and sick and lay around finding ways to shop while eating junk. She was depressed for a long time. I was worried she would kill herself.”

  “Heavy shit, man,” Knox commented. I noticed he hadn’t moved a muscle. He was obviously thinking the longer he stayed exactly as he was, the longer Shasta would remain in his lap. His legs had to be killing him, and maybe Shasta realized that because she climbed off him. Although he looked sad, he also looked relieved, and he thrust his legs out in front of him and rubbed them.

  “Yeah, heavy shit. But my sister’s got a plan.”

  “Do you know what it is?” Shasta asked.

  “I do. But I won’t say. It’s a biggie. You’ll see one day.”

  “Why me?” I asked. “Why are you letting me into this club? Is it so easy to time travel that you hand it out like candy?”

  Norman doubled over laughing. “Uh, no, buddy, it’s not easy at all. Not many people can do it. You might not be able to do it either. They’ll need to check you out, run tests, and see if you’re a viable candidate.”

  I lunged for him and tackled him to the ground. “You never said that! I wouldn’t be here if you’d said that. You said I could do it!”

  I raised my fist to punch him, but Knox pulled me away. For a stringbean, Knox could handle himself. I glared at Norman, my chest heaving.

  “Because I knew you wouldn’t come if I only said it was possible. And I never met a guy who needs it more than you do, Shane,” Norman said, and I noticed he didn’t use my real name in front of the others. “And Janaelle agreed when I pitched you.”

  “Why didn’t she and Jaxen use the time travel to fix the world?” Shasta asked. “They could have done anything they wanted.”

  “Time travel, as our friend here will see, and as the military saw, isn’t the magic pill everybody thinks it is. Time travel is a moody bitch, full of paradoxes and quantum conflicts. We’re nearly there. Remember, this is a privileged world—you guys are lucky you’re being allowed in.”

  Norman got up off the ground, and we followed him. I had no idea what to expect, and even Knox and Shasta had fallen silent. We marched along behind Norman, with Knox still swatting his head. My brain was spinning with what Norman had told us.

  23. GOING UNDERGROUND

  “WE’RE HERE,” NORMAN FINALLY SAID, and we slumped down on the ground in relief.

  “My feet are killing me,” Shasta said, and she pulled off her shoes. Her feet were a mashed-up pulp of blood and ooze.

  “Why didn’t you say?” Knox looked ready to cry. “I would have carried you. Norman, this is ridiculous.”

  But Norman wasn’t listening. He was inserting a huge old-fashioned key into a massive oak tree, and we watched, open-mouthed, as he swung the tree half open, revealing a small elevator.

  “Can we all fit?” Knox asked. “I get claustrophobia. Can I go down first or after you guys? We can’t fit.”

  This was a first, something Knox and I had in common. I hated the thought too.

  “We all have to go together,” Norman said, and Shasta looked doubtful. She peered into the carved-out tree. “It’s not real,” she said, stroking the tree.

  “Of course it’s not real,” Norman said. “Listen, we can’t leave the door open much longer—a security breach will sound. Get in or don’t.”

  I leapt in and Shasta followed. Knox took a deep breath and jumped in, holding onto Shasta and burying his face in her neck. Norman was last, and we made for a tight squeeze as he pulled the door closed and pushed a button. The elevator was lit with soft blue light, and cool air rushed down, as did a familiar chemical fragrance. I sniffed the air in appreciation, focusing on the fact that we were moving. As long as we were moving, we were okay; I could do this.

  “Permethrin,” Norman said. “Bug spray. It was a regular feature on airlines back in the last century. It was approved by the World Health Organization, but people objected and they eventually stopped using it. But Janaelle likes us to be cootie-free, although, as you will see, th
e process has only just begun.”

  “How much longer?” Knox asked. He was beginning to hyperventilate. Shasta pulled him close and whispered to him, but his body language stayed taut and he was shaking. He was sweating like a pig, and despite the bug spray, his stench filled the small space. Four bodies in need of a shower and a few bars of lye soap.

  The door opened, and we spilled out like wound-up sardines sprung from a can. We sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath. I sat up first, rubbing my eyes, and the others followed suit.

  We were greeted by a robot who regarded us impassively. “Follow me,” it barked electronically, and we got to our feet. Shasta grabbed Knox’s hand and hung on tight. The robot looked like a titanium Terry’s Chocolate Orange, its petals neatly folded inwards with triangular panels forming a base. It looked like a moving flower or a petalled sea crab with two bright blue stalk-eyes sticking off his ball head, eyes that seemed strangely expressive. I swear the thing even blinked.

  “It’s a Roundabout, modelled on a MorphHex, first made by Kare Halvorsen,” Norman said. “Cute though, isn’t it?”

  Shasta nodded, her eyes wide. “You’re crushing my hand,” Knox said, and she loosened her grip but pressed closer to him.

  “I didn’t imagine it would be this futuristic,” she whispered. “Or this underground. Are you okay?”

  Knox nodded, although he didn’t look convinced. “Trying not to think about it,” he said.

  The Roundabout led us into a room, and without warning, a door slammed shut, locking us in. Knox slammed his hand against the door and quickly discovered it was steel. I could see Knox was about to lose it; he was nanoseconds away from screaming and pounding the door when giant sunflower-shaped shower heads dropped from the ceiling and the room filled with steam and hot spray.

  “Cleansing cycle initiated!” the Roundabout announced, volume high. “Remove outer garments now! Remove outer garments now!”

  “Take your clothes off,” Norman yelled. “And close your eyes. This won’t hurt! Stand still!”

  “I’m not getting undressed,” Shasta shouted, and she screamed as the Roundabout raised itself up to six feet tall on spindly legs, extended spider arms, and ripped her clothes off. Its eyes didn’t look that friendly anymore.