“He said it started from an accident — he watched a vampire awaken. It started him thinking about the nanites, about the way they worked, about where they came from. Parson said he was bothered by the diversity, by the unpredictability of all of it. They are machines; after all, we all know that. They had to have a maker, right? And a purpose, too. Instead, we get chaos, biologically incompatibility, death and weird mutations. Then he watched the experiments that made Gaul and Mitsuru — hey, did you know that? That Mitsuru, Gaul, and Alistair are all pretty much the same age? They did something to Mitsuru, though, after she went nuts using some Black Protocol that killed her partner. She spent years suspended, somehow, not sleeping, not aging, not anything. Some kind of punishment they invented just for her. Gaul hates her, you know? Because of whomever she killed. I bet everyone in Central knows that but you. You know, it’s kind of fun… being able to talk to you this way. Being able to say whatever I want. Not having to worry about the consequences. That’s what life’s like, now.”
Alex had to admit that it was interesting, and he was supremely aware of Emily touching him, of her body lying on top of his. Still, something seemed… off, wrong in a way that he didn’t have words for right now, but he had the feeling that normally he would.
“Anyway, John Parson, he started to wonder why the only things in Central left over from whoever built it were the nanites and the buildings themselves. It didn’t make sense. He started to wonder if there hadn’t been more when they first found Central, back in the days of the Founder and the first Board. Then he started to ask questions — difficult questions, that no one, least of all the Board, seemed to want to answer. Eventually, the disagreements escalated into a feud between the cartels, and then into violence. In the end, John Parson was exiled from Central, along with those who agreed with him. They called themselves The Anathema. I don’t know how, but eventually, he managed to start wandering within the Ether, the same way the Founder did when he discovered Central. Eventually, John Parson found somewhere too. The Outer Dark.”
There was nothing but the girl.
There was something else. Alex was sure of it. Something was wrong, even though he felt calm and secure. He had an intention, he was certain of it. He had done… things. Things that he was not entirely proud of, in order to do something. For… for someone?
“It was just like he had expected. There was more stuff there, more things built by whoever built Central, not just buildings but the remnants of a society — language, science, and cultural artifacts; the same things he had suspected had been removed from Central by the Founder and the first Board and hidden. They did nothing but study it, all of it. They translated the language over a matter of decades. It’s all very… different. Reading it changes you, Alex. It gets inside of you. The words hurt, going in, and then they take root — they live inside your mind. They aren’t words the way we understand them. They are living things, multi-dimensional concepts, artifacts and even weapons. They don’t describe reality. They define and reshape it. Only John Parson was able to comprehend the whole alphabet and remain sane. He was the one who first understood the significance of the lesson of that first vampire, Alex. John Parson was the one who discovered that you have to die for the nanites inside you to realize their true potential. I know this isn’t making much sense to you right now. But once you hear it from him for the first time, you’ll understand.”
Water. Why did he hear the sound of water running? And so much of it. Wasn’t he inside? Was this some kind of strange dream?
“Maybe that sounds scary. Does it, Alex? It’s not really like dying, though. It’s more like… leaving your body behind. Evolving on without it. It just hurts for a minute, and then it’s as if this tremendous burden is lifted from you. And it’s not as if you have much of a life to lose, do you, sleepyhead? After all, your life thus far has mostly been somebody else’s dream.”
Wait… a dream? No, but, there was something there.
“It’s funny, knowing this, being able to tell you this. Thanks to the feedback loop — you see how good we are together, right, Alex? How I can tell you the truth, fix the things they’ve done to your head. And you know now, right, how they have tampered with you? Your memories, your history, your emotions, all of it. You don’t actually believe that stuff they told you about who you are, about what you did, where you come from? You have to know that’s not coming from inside you.”
He was very tired. He would fall asleep soon, he knew, and for some reason, he feared it with a dread that cut right through the euphoria of Emily’s chest pressed against him, her fingertips on his throat. He could not fall asleep yet. He knew it. Because he had something to do.
“Haven’t you ever wondered why you don’t remember when your birthday is, Alex? Most people do, even unhappy ones. Or, tell me, whom did you live with after the fire? Your grandmother, right? Okay, so tell me, what’s her name?”
Nothing. Not even an echo. It wasn’t something he forgotten, he was certain. It was something he had never known.
“Too hard? Then let’s try an easy one. Is she still alive?”
He knew she didn’t live in the trailer anymore… he thought. But why? Dead? Nursing home? It was too hard to think, like someone had poured mud into his head, and now he was trying to think through the sludge.
“I read your file, Alex. I’m sorry, but I thought it might help me understand you a little better. But it doesn’t make any sense, not at all. Alex, do you remember your father hurting you?”
He did. He wanted to say he did. But all he really remembered were stories about it. Stories that he remembered having been told.
“Do you remember if you had a brother or a sister, Alex? Just one? Because the police report said there were four bodies in that house that burned down, that they found you sitting outside of, reeking of gasoline with the matches still in your pocket, just staring at it as the roof caved in. Do you remember your mother’s name? What color was her hair, Alex? Where did you go to elementary school? When did you learn to ride a bike? What’s the name of the first girl you had a crush on? What’s your favorite movie, Alex?”
He felt like he had answers. He felt indignant, in the wake of every question, just for a minute. Then it all fell away from him, as he sunk back into the bliss that ebbed and swelled through him, every time Emily ran her wet hands across his skin. Alex knew that he didn’t have the answers, not for any of the questions she had asked him. And that did bother him. But that wasn’t what he had forgotten.
“Do you see, Alex? Do you really remember anything, before they locked you up? Who you were, what you did, what you were like? Do you remember doing any of the things they told that you did, Alex, or did you believe them because you couldn’t remember anything? Do you know who did all of this to you, who made your life this way?”
She was right, he had forgotten things. A number of things. But one of them was much more immediately important than the others. Something…
On the other hand, maybe, was there someone else? Someone besides the girl whose blond hair was dripping warm water on his chest?
“I didn’t understand it myself until I looked back and saw my body, the old one, floating in the pool, discarded. I wasn’t horrified, Alex, I was exhilarated. Now all I need is the proper volume of water and the nanites do the rest. Moreover, I am not the only one, Alex, and becoming a Drown isn’t the only way forward. But it’s evolution, Alex. When we get back to the Outer Dark, Alex, John Parson will fix whatever it is they’ve done to you, help you get rid of all the lies your head is filled with. Aren’t you tired of being lied to? Do you really want to become a weapon for the people who did this to you? The Anathema didn’t come here to hurt you, Alex, or anyone else. We just want to help you. I don’t want you to always be empty, they way they left you.”
Her words flowed out of his mind, like trying to catch water in his hands. Like trying to hold Emily as she had leaked out of his arms, cold water all over the floor.
The room was empty, besides them. As it always had been. And his hands were just as empty.
Except…
Except maybe it they weren’t. His left hand had been doing things, while he wasn’t paying attention. There was something clutched in his palm, something coarse and textured, something he had forgotten. Something a girl had given him. Another girl. There was another girl?
There was. And for some reason, all he could think was that he needed to hold on to it. As tightly as possible.
His hand squeezed around whatever was inside it. He felt nothing, at first, and then he felt a prick, a needle sliding smoothly into the skin of his hand, and then a temporary blossom of pain. Then there was warmth, spreading from the point of the injury, running through his veins like a beautiful poison.
