Open
your eyes. Sally did. She was
uncomfortably damp, her face pushed into the warm, wet asphalt. She
blinked at the wheelchair access, where the curb melted into the road
and for a moment wondered if she'd been hit by a car.
He
legs wobbled slightly as she got to her feet, but they held her
weight. A small voice, deep in the back of her mind, urged her to
get off the road before she got hit by another car, but she was too
busy trying to figure out where she was to pay it much attention.
She
was a still in the city, though in what part, she couldn't tell.
Wherever she was, it had to be either late night or very early
morning, because there weren't any cars on the street. The
wheelchair access, if that's what it was, seemed to go the length of
the block and the block seemed to go on forever.
Sally
stepped onto the sidewalk and looked at the buildings that ran along
side it. They were massive, towering things, cartoonish in the way
they seemed to lean intimidatingly over the street – and, Sally
realized as she looked up at them, wider at the top than at the
bottom.
Daisy
Chain had definitely put something in her drink. Except, the mere
fact that Daisy Chain had shown up suggested that someone else had
put something in her drink – but both who could have done so and
why were beyond Sally's ability to work out.
The
sidewalk was too narrow to walk on comfortably, and Sally moved back
to the road after a few steps. The asphalt was almost spongy under
her feet. She realized uneasily that the unnatural orange glow which
appeared in regular intervals along the length of the street was not
the result of street lights; it didn't seem to be the result of
anything – it was just there.
Another
thing about the buildings: they didn't have doors. They had windows,
all of which seemed to have translucent yellow glass, either lit up
or blacked out like a checkers board.
And
it wasn't just that there weren't any cars driving on the street,
there weren't any parked
there, either. There weren't any people. There was nothing, except
dark skies, impossible buildings and sourceless orange light.
“Morning,”
said a voice behind her and Sally froze. “Don't worry,” the
voice told her. “It's me.”
Sally
didn't feel capable of running. She turned around slowly, praying
that it would be someone she actually knew. Daisy Chain. She looked
at the giant rabbit, who was watching her with a look of mild
concern.
“What
happened?” she asked, rubbing her eyes. She still felt groggy, as
if she'd been asleep for a week.
“I
drugged you.”
She
could remember that much, but hearing him admit it made her livid.
“You did what?”
“I
drugged you,” he repeated. “I had to. You wouldn't listen to
me.”
“And
you thought that drugging me was a good way to get me to listen?
That makes absolutely no sense.”
“I
thought that drugging you was a good way to get you here,” Daisy
Chain said. “Clearly I was right.”
“And
what? You decided to drag me here and then just dump me in the
middle of the road and disappear?”
“I
didn't dump you anywhere.”
Sally
was too angry to form a coherent sentence, and for a minute, she just
stammered. When she could speak properly again, she asked, “How
did I get here, then?”
Daisy
Chain paused.
“What,
did you hire someone else to dump my body? It's a simple
enough question. You drugged me, brought me here, then what?”
Daisy
Chain hesitated again, not sure how to answer. His eyes darted
around uneasily.
“Look,”
Sally said, through clenched teeth. “I woke up on the ground and—”
“You
woke up? Don't often see that.”
So
he gave you poison to
knock you out. Great. “Was I
not supposed to? What did you expect to happen?”
Daisy
Chain shrugged. “Normally people sort of fade into existence.”
“What?”
“Look,
Sally, I didn't dump
your body anywhere, if that's what you're worried about. I'm sorry I
wasn't here when you got here, but I had to take care of some things
before I left your apartment.”
“What
do you mean before you left? What things?
Where the hell are we?”
“You
won't believe me,” Daisy Chain said with certainty. “But, look,
can we walk and talk? I don't want to stay in one place for too
long.” He didn't wait for an answer; he started to walk and Sally
was left running to catch up.
“So,
where are we?” Sally
asked again, when she had matched his stride.
“You've
been here before, actually,” Daisy Chain said. He anticipated her
objection and added, “You don't remember. I wouldn't expect you
to. But this is—well, you know when you dream?”
Sally
did her best to look incredulous, while she struggled to keep up.
“Dream?”
“Look,
you've heard of the dreamworld, alright? This is it.”
“I'm
in the dreamworld?”
“Yeah.”
“You
mean I'm dreaming?”
“Yeah.
Sure. If you want. Whatever makes it easier for you to wrap your
tiny human brain around.”
“So
that whole thing with you chasing me,” Sally said, ignoring the
insult, “that was a dream too.”
“You
were awake,” Daisy Chain told her. He gave her a look which
suggested she was being stupid. “You didn't start dreaming until
after I drugged you.” There was an implied question mark at the
end of the sentence, which accompanied the unspoken question of why
she was being such an idiot.
“You're
so full of shit,” Sally told him.
“No
I'm not.”
“None
of what you're saying makes any sense. I mean, I don't really get
the whole time-zone thing, but shouldn't roughly half the world's
population be asleep at any given time?”
Daisy
Chain considered explaining about the population of Asia, but decided
against it. “So?”
“So?
So where are they all? Look around. There's no one here but us.”
Daisy
Chain looked annoyed. He sped up. “You need to stop thinking of
this place as an extension of Earth. The rules that apply there
don't apply here.”
Sally
was nearly jogging to keep up with him now. “I'm not thinking of
this place as an extension of anything.”
“Good,
because it isn't. Things are different here.”
“Such
as?”
“Such
as I'm giant talking rabbit. Time is layered here. Space is more
finite, more like Earth, but you could have a million people standing
in the same place at the same time and they'd never know it. It's
pretty rare that two people end up in the same place in the same
layer and even then, they're usually total strangers—or people
close enough that they don't find it odd that they're dreaming about each other.”
“So,
how do you know which layer you should be in?”
“For
what?”
“For
whatever you want to do. Or whoever you want to meet.”
“What?
I don't know. You just do.”
Sally
sneered. Her voice oozed incredulity. “So you're saying every
time I have a dream about someone, they've had a dream about me?”
Daisy
Chain sighed. “No.”
Sally
couldn't help but feel proud. She had debunked Daisy Chain's
arguments enough that they had turned into flat denial. But she
couldn't shake the feeling that she'd won the battle but
the war was yet to start. “So I'm asleep right now,”
Sally said slowly, trying to get a handle on the idea, trying to
understand how she could possibly be so tired if it was true.
Daisy
Chain sighed. “Yes.”
“So
I'm actually... lying on my kitchen floor?” She didn't wait for
him to answer. “In a puddle of tea and my own drool. Wonderful.”
“I
moved you to your bed,” Daisy Chain said. “I looked after
everything. And I fixed your door. That's why I couldn't make it
here before you did. I didn't want to leave your body unprotected.”
He lowered his voice. “I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up.”
Sally
looked at her surroundings. They had been walking for a while, but
the view hadn't changed. They seemed to be in the exact same spot.
“And why are we here, again?”
“There
are some guys after you. Bad guys. You remember when I said I had
to go away?”
She
could remember, almost. Not so much Daisy Chain leaving as crying to
her mother about it afterwards. “You said you had to fight the bad
guys,” she said finally. “God, I hadn't thought about that for
years.”
“It's
easier to remember things here than on Earth. You'll be surprised at
what bubbles out of the back of your mind. But yeah, that's what I
told you.”
“So
it's the same bad guys?”
“Near
enough. They're all the same. Scum.”
Sally
sighed. She didn't want to keep walking. She didn't want to keep
asking questions she was afraid to hear the answers to. “And why
are they after me?”
“They're
trying to get to me through you. I should have expected it.”
“And
they're human?”
“No,
they're figments, like me.”
“Figments.
Like, man-rabbits?”
Daisy
Chain sighed. “Damn, this stuff was easier when you were a kid.
No, not man-rabbits.
Dream creatures, I guess. They've been after you for a long time.”
“On
Earth? Really? Because if they look anything like you, I think I
would have noticed.” Sally tried to laugh, but it sounded a little
hollow.
“They
can't go to Earth,” Daisy Chain told her simply.
“Well
that's good, I—” Sally stopped walking and stared at Daisy Chain
as he was forced to do the same. “They can't go to Earth,” she
repeated.
“No.”
“So,
you brought me here.”
“Yes.”
“Where
they're from.”
“Yes.”
“What
the Hell?”
“They
weren't after you on Earth, they were after you here.
They've been chasing you through your dreams.”
“No.
I think I would remember dreaming about giant figments
chasing me around, trying to kill me.”
“I
would have thought so, too,” Daisy Chain said, sounding annoyed and
a little disappointed. “Most humans don't, but I had hoped –
never mind. It doesn't matter. The majority of humans don't
remember most of their dreams, and the ones that do rarely remember
them right. I've chased the rat bastards away from you twice now,
but you're hard to keep track of, and I don't always know where
you're going to end up when you fall asleep. I needed to be able to
control the situation. Now keep walking.”
Sally
did, if only because, now, she wanted all the answers she could get.
“But even if they catch me, what's the worst that can happen? I'll
have a nightmare? And don't give me that bullshit about dying in
your dreams making you die in real life; I know it isn't true.”
“It
depends how you die in the dream. And why.”
“No
it doesn't.”
“Yes
it does.”
“How's
that?”
Daisy
Chain sighed again. It seemed like he was incapable of starting a
sentence with anything other than a sigh. “There are ways they can
do it—ways they will
do it, so that you don't wake up. Your body wakes up, healthy, fine,
but your mind is soup. You'll be a vegetable, forever. Sometimes,
the brain stops telling the heart to beat and the lungs to breathe,
and the person dies without ever regaining consciousness. Those are
the lucky ones.”
“Sometimes?
How long has this been going on for?”
“I
don't know. A long time.”
Sally
thought about it. She was trying hard to be rational. “So why
isn't the world full of vegetables? That doesn't make any sense.”
Daisy
Chain sighed again, as if it was the eight millionth time he had
explained this.
“Humans are more physical than us. Your
identities are more strongly connected to your bodies. It's
difficult to cause any real harm to a human here because there's
nothing to stop you from waking up.”
“Unless
we're drugged,” Sally said bitterly.
“Unless
you're drugged,” Daisy Chain agreed. “Or the raiders have a
Keeper.”
“Raiders?
Keeper? Now what are
you talking about?”
“Keep
walking.”
Sally
looked at the buildings, still unchanging on the long street. “So
you drugged me, put me in my bed and now what? How long until I wake
up?”
“The
drugs I gave you will last a long time. You're staying with me until
they're dead.”
“What?”
“You
can stay with me until I've killed everyone who is after you. When
they're all dead,
I'll go back to Earth and wake you up.”
“And
how long is that going to take?”
“Earth
time? I don't know. I still don't have a handle on it. You
remember when you were little, how pissed off you'd get when I didn't
show up for a few days? For me that time was a second, or a year,
there's no way to really judge it. Overall, time goes faster here,
but I can't put an end date on it.”
“You
realize that I'm going to dehydrate and die?” Sally asked.
“You'll
be fine for a few days,” Daisy Chain told her. “I put you on a
saline drip.”
“You—”
“Had
to.”
“And
what's to stop the bad guys from going to Earth and killing me in my
sleep?”
“I
told you: they can't go to Earth. Anyway, you're a lot more useful
to them if you die here. If they killed you on Earth, you—this
version of you, would turn to Dust and disappear before they got
back.”
“Great.”
Sally
noticed that the buildings were finally starting to change. They
were getting smaller, the spaces between them wider. She noticed a
few pale neon signs blinking in the dirty, run-down alleys. In front
of them, the strange orange lights faded into nothing and she thought
she could make out some weirdly shaped trees, silhouetted against the
dark, purplish sky. She
was going to ask where they were going, demand that they take a break
– but something stopped her.
Lurching
toward them, from one of the alleys, was a woman, who, if Sally had
had to guess, she would have said belonged to the same half-rabbit
species as Daisy Chain. Except. The woman's face, such as it was,
was lit from one side by a green light which was embedded in it where
her eye should have been. Her other eye, Sally could see, as she
pitched forward into the glow of a non-existent street light, had
been sewn shut with coarse black thread. Her face was mostly smooth,
like china, but had eerie cracks in it, like a plate that had been
dropped. She was wearing the tattered remains of an aquamarine
cocktail dress, the hem of which had been reduced to knee-length and
was trailing tulle down her legs.
Sally
moved quickly to the other side of Daisy Chain and grabbed a
well-muscled arm.
Daisy
Chain stiffened at first but when he followed Sally's silent stare,
and saw what was moving toward them, he relaxed. He raised his free
arm in the casual wave that men use when greeting acquaintances from
across a crowded room.
The
other figment – though Sally couldn't be completely sure that's
what she was – didn't wave back. She cocked her head slightly to
one side, then looked at the trees at the end of the street, ran
(though not with any real sense of urgency) toward them and
disappeared into the darkness.
Sally
waited until the woman was out of earshot before speaking, but she
couldn't help the feeling that she was being overheard. “Jesus,
that was scary.”
Daisy
Chain didn't answer her.
“What
was that?”
Daisy
Chain frowned slightly. “You mean who.”
“Fine.
Who was that? And what was up with its eyes?”
“Her
name is Minty. No one knows how she ended up the way she is, not
even her.”
“What
do you mean, not even her?”
Daisy
Chain sighed. “I mean, even she doesn't know how she ended
up that way. She can't remember anything.”
“And
the mask?”
“What
mask?”
“She
was wearing a china mask. I have no idea how she sees through it,
but—”
“She
wasn't wearing a mask,” Daisy Chain said simply.
Sally
sighed. “Yes she was. I saw it. It was all cracked and—”
“That's
her face. She's porcelain.”
“She's—”
“Porcelain,”
Daisy Chain repeated tiredly. “The cracks? Like I said, no one
knows what
happened to her, how she lost the the eye—”
“Or
how she became a cyborg?” Sally laughed.
“Are
you talking about her good eye?”
“If
you want to call it that.”
“I
fitted her with it.”
Sally
stared at him, unsure how to answer.
Daisy
Chain started to walk again. “I found her, not far from here,
curled up in a ball, no one around for miles. She'd been roughed up
pretty bad. I couldn't do anything with her left eye, it was
completely burned out of the socket. I had to sew it shut.” Sally
wanted to ask how he'd managed to sew porcelain, but Daisy Chain
didn't give her the opportunity. “The right one,” he went on, “I
had a little more luck with. I'd actually just killed a Clonget
and—”
“A
what?”
“Don't
interrupt. A robot. It was—look, it doesn't matter. I'd killed
one, I had a spare part. She needed the eye, I put it in her head.
End of story.” He sighed and muttered, almost to himself, “Never
did catch the bastard who worked her over, though.”
For
a long time, the road grew narrower and less well-maintained and the
buildings grew shorter and shabbier. Sally didn't talk. She
couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't either make her sound
like an insensitive idiot or piss Daisy Chain off even more. She
found the idea that Minty had ever been anything else, anything other
than a monster, hard to believe. Although, she admitted to herself
on further consideration that if you took away the cracks, the creepy
eyes and her unnerving vacant stare, if you put her in a new dress
and taught her not to walk like a reanimated corpse, Minty might well
have been beautiful – in a rabbity sort of way.
The
trees, Sally realized, in the midst of her silent contemplation, were
a lot further away than they had originally appeared, and she began
to wonder how Minty had run to them so quickly.
“So,”
Sally ventured, after a suitable amount of time had passed.
Daisy
Chain looked at her, but didn't answer.
“So...
where are we going?”
“I
haven't decided yet. For now, we need to keep moving.”
“I
thought we had to kill those guys.”
If
she thought about it logically, the idea of killing figments herself,
or having them killed on her behalf, didn't bother Sally at all. In
her mind, she was dreaming and nothing she saw or did here was real,
not really. Killing something that she'd dredged up from her own
subconscious seemed a small price to pay for waking up.
“We
do have to kill them,” Daisy Chain agreed. “But we have to find
them first, and in the meantime, it isn't safe to stay in any one
place for too long.”
“How
long is too long?” Sally asked. “I'm seriously tired.”
“You're
sleeping. Stop complaining.”
“Yeah,
about that.” Another question Sally didn't want to ask.
“What?”
“Well,
speaking of staying too long in one place.”
“What?”
“What's
going to stop me from—” the fact that she was having this
conversation at all was almost worse than the fact that she was
having it with a giant talking rabbit. “What's going to stop me
from wetting myself?”
Daisy
Chain looked confused. “Oh,” he said, after a second.
“Oh?”
“I
took care of that.”
“You...
how?”
He
shrugged. “I fitted you with a catheter.”
Sally
stopped walking. As soon as her voice came back, she fully planned
on going completely postal on Daisy Chain. As she opened her mouth
to do so, something scuttled past her, crawled around Daisy Chan's
feet and stopped, facing her. It was, by its shape, mostly a man. A
very small, sheet-white bald man with an extremely prominent brow and
a bulldog-like expression. An underfed man with his ribs showing who
crawled around on all fours. It opened its mouth and hissed, showing
off tiny, needle-sharp teeth.
Daisy
Chain kicked at the creature, just missing it with a
dangerous-looking claw. It hissed again, this time at him, and
crawled sullenly into the shadows.
Sally
shuddered. “Are there a lot of things like...” she stopped
herself from saying that,
but just barely. “him here?”
Daisy
Chain looked surprised. “Him?
No. That thing climbed off a building in Salisbury and followed me
here. It's from Earth."
_______________
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