You should feel privileged. I’ve never been this close to a man.
That’s because you are a man-hating fucking monster! Children, please.
Keep out of this.
Yeah, shut up, tinbrain. We have an urgent mission ahead of us. Cooperation and collaboration are required. You must both…
Who’s Tom?
Get out of my memories!
And oh my God, what’s this! Whips and black leather! Yee-ha! Ooh, that looks nice. Is that Peter’s dad you’re fucking?
You are violating me.
I see you did the stopping the heart thing with him too.
Stop this, Flanagan, or I’ll drown you in my secret opinion of you.
Is it a two-way thing? Can you read my thoughts? ’Cause I have some juicily evil and vile fantasies about you that you could paddle in.
I can see them. You’re pathetic. Pay attention, please. We’re about to land.
Flanagan, will you tell me something?
What?
The truth. The real truth. I know you were only teasing me earlier, when you said what you did. About playing me for a fool. But why did you really ask me to be leader of the pirate band? It wasn’t just flattery and manipulation, was it? You did think I was actually worthy to be your leader. Didn’t you? This is not the time or the place for this discussion.
Tell me, Flanagan! I need to know! Lena, this is foolish, you can only get hurt getting questions like…
Flanagan’s thoughts cut through like a knife:
I did it because I knew you would inspire us.
I savour his delicious thought. “I did it because I knew you would inspire us.” But is that the truth, or just more flattery and lies? So I think back at him: You’re lying.
No. I’m not. Time to focus. We’re going to land soon.
I ignore my remote computer. I’m too busy eavesdropping Flanagan’s thoughts:
I don’t blame Lena for not believing me (thinks Flanagan). But it’s true. Yes, I duped her. But I also relied heavily upon her presence, her history. Would the pirate band have followed us if it hadn’t been for Lena? Maybe, but maybe not. She is, like it or not, the kind of woman a man could follow to Hell and back.
I can hear every word of this, by the way.
Shit!
You old flatterer you.
It’s just another ruse on my part. You’re really just a crabby old whore.
Don’t backtrack, I know what you really think now.
Some of it. Not all. Oh, look! Some more of your memories for me to plunder!
Stop it, Flanagan! No! I forbid you to do that.
First time you had sex – mmm, that didn’t last long. Holiday in the Caribbean – very nice. You and that other little girl. Clara is it? The Queendom of Alchemy! How embarrassingly twee.
Not in the least.
I rather like freckles.
Stop it. Stop dabbling in me.
You’ve got your dad’s nose you know. Or at least, back then you did, before the plastic surgeries.
Leave me alone! This is tantamount to rape!
I’m not touching you. Oh my God! That’s a nasty one.
What? What is it?
That memory there, slightly to the left of the Inter-Rail holiday in Europe. What you thought when your mother died. You were glad, weren’t you?
Of course not!
You felt a surge of joy. “Stupid, bullying, undermining old bitch. I’m glad she’s dead!” That’s what you thought, isn’t it?
That’s not true!
Of course it’s true, I just explored the memory.
I loved her! I loved my mother. But… she was a difficult woman. And the news came as a terrible surprise. And we all have bad thoughts. We can’t help them, can we? And I didn’t mean it. I didn’t. ..
You’ve spent your life feeling guilty for that one bad thought.
Yes.
You shouldn’t.
Yes I should.
Well, do what you fucking like.
You’re a bastard for doing this.
And finally, he sees my darkest thought, my greatest pain.
Lena, the son you loved no longer exists. (I feel Flanagan’s warmth, his sympathy, and I recoil.) You’re doing the right thing. Trust me.
You’ve seen my memories of Peter? You’ve seen me suckle him?
You never suckled him.
Whatever. Now it’s my turn. To rummage and delve in the something whatchmacall of your soul.
Mmm, almost a nice metaphor, that.
Fuck off. Ah, now we’ve come to it. Your memories of me! This is my first appearance. This is me smashing up your face. And – oh dear, oh dear. Ouch!
It serves you right for looking.
I’d no idea that thing of mine annoyed you so much. Oooh, and you didn’t like that. And I didn’t think anyone thought that about me. And… stop it, Flanagan! Stop doing it back, stop looking inside me.. .
What is this? This thought you’re trying to hide?
Leave it, Flanagan. It’s private. It’s…
You… actually really do love me?
Yes.
Fucking hell. Lena… I…
You what? You love me too?
No way. Look as deep as you like, you’ll find no such thought, no such memory.
That’s because you’re in denial. But I can sense it. I can feel it. You love me.
Bollocks.
I can’t blame you. I deserve to be loved.
Ah, away to fuck you… Oof!
Pain distorts his face. “Jesus!”
“Aaargh!” I hear a scream – it’s me. I try to stand up, but I fall straight back down again. Time to start moving.
Jesus, Flanagan, my legs hurt, I’m in fucking agony, what happened?!? It wasn’t the best of landings.
Lena
I realise with horror that both my legs are broken and my spine has snapped, because of the terrific impact when we hit the ground. Flanagan is just as badly hurt. But the DRs are resilient, so we quickly get up. We set our cyberorganisms to “Repair” Mode and wait.
Flanagan DR looks strangely unlike the real Flanagan, because of the haircut and lack of beard. And – this’ll be a nice surprise for him – I made the computer build him a two-inch penis.
