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By Charles Drake.
Dream 9, The Landscape of Dreams
I am alone.
Screaming, Alita fell upon the Newborn. It threw its left arm up to block her strike. Spinning, Alita grabbed its arm and pivoted, throwing herself past its defenses and straight into its torso. Arms crossed, she plunged the blades into its side.
As her first strike tore into the creature's flesh, Alita scissored her arms out to strike her second blow. The Damascus blades strapped to her arms summoned forth rivulets of white blood, each strike soaking her body in more of the potassium rich substance.
Taskrel batted her away from his torso, fighting to keep his mind clear. The black suit's attacks were a distraction... nothing more. He could defeat her easily! He was God! He was the Newborn!
I am... Taskrel? Why do I feel... so distant? It is hard to concentrate... the pain is minor but.. so much to think about. I was so sure... of my motions before. It all felt so natural... so pure... what is wrong with me?
Falling, Alita activated the Railgun in her Hardsuit's right arm while at the same time engaging the machine gun in its left. "Aaaaaaaaahhh!!" Alita screamed, firing at the creature. The air crackled with fire as the projectiles sparked tiny fires in the sulfurous atmosphere, each flagging its mark with a plume of fresh blood.
The Newborn shrieked, whipping its tail towards Alita. She dodged, activating her suit's thrusters. Gravity fooled for the moment, Alita plunged upward, slipping past Taskrel's defenses and plunging her twin blades into the creature's wings. "Eat this!" Alita yelled, firing her machine guns again as, with her right hand, she flung the entire contents of her Tuned Packs at the Newborn. Explosions ripped across its body. As he plunged from the sky, the Newborn shrieked in agony.
How can I be losing? I am God! I am invincible! And yet... I feel so weak... so distant... so tired. This body... it is not mine. I am Taskrel... not Elena... not one...
What is happening? Who am I? Why... why is this happening? I was to be one with God! I was God! Why...?
A terrible scream of pain pouring from his open maw, Taskrel slammed into the ground. Broken and bleeding, the creature that he had become struggled to sit up. The Black Armour landed before him, snapping her visor up. She looked up at him with a pair of sad honey eyes.
"Is that it?" Alita asked, shaking her head, "You killed all those people... to become a weak, pathetic creature like this? Why? What was it all for? What are you worth? Why did you do this?"
"What did you do to me?" Taskrel demanded, lashing out with his foreclaws, "Why am I... so tired?"
"I did nothing," Alita snapped, "You did this to yourself. You are pathetic!"
"I am the Son of God!" Taskrel insisted, struggling forward, "I am the Newborn! I am!"
"You are nothing!" Alita yelled, jumping to intercept him. Taskrel tried to block, but he moved too late. Without any hindrance, Alita slashed her blades through three of Taskrel's six eyes. She added a bone-crushing kick to his massive jaws as well, sending a spray of white blood and spittle sparkling into the air. Then, with a snort of contempt, she leapt back to the ground. "You make me sick."
"I.. can't feel the pain..." Taskrel managed, "It... is so... hard... to... think. Why...?"
Alita watched in morbid fascination as the Newborn's forehead split open, the flesh and bone melting away into the creature's back, leaving nothing at the creature's shoulders but a single deformed figure. Taskrel... the human who had once been Taskrel... stood there, shaking. His body was torn and bloody, flesh half-ripped from the tissue layers beneath. One arm had torn completely free of its skin, deforming into the signature hooked Demon claw. Strange vessels stood out on his bloodied chest, pumping potassium rich fluids through his twisted body. And the face, once hawknosed and dignified now hung in pieces. Both eyes were gone, as was the entire left side of Taskrel's face. A few bloody scraps of jaw hung loose, swinging as if to indicate that they could break off at any moment. Most of his skull was also missing, exposing his brain to the world. Root like strands protruded from the off-white mass of neurons, white blood spurting from them at regular intervals.
"Holy mother fucker..." Alita murmured, stepping back. Even as she did so, Taskrel was changing. His brain slackened out of shape, like a giant flan with the molding removed. It seeped slowly down the sides of his torn face and dripped at his feet. A spurt of pink blood gurgled from his neck, the last of Taskrel's humanity making a vane effort to escape.
Taskrel's Demon-arm broke away next, melting into the flesh of the Newborn's neck. The vessels in Taskrel's chest surged to life, deforming the rest of his body into the shape of a standard Demon... minus the head and one arm. Taskrel's other arm exploded out of its human skin, then broke away and melted, same as the first. His torso and legs broke from their skin next. The sickly remains followed the first few parts as soon as they began to resemble a full grown Demon, melting away only after they had completed the transformation. In less than thirty seconds, Taskrel had completely broken up and dissolved.
"Is... it over?" Alita asked, stepping slowly towards the headless creature. The body shuddered suddenly, causing Alita to jump backwards, away from the massive creature. With a disgustingly liquid creak, the wings fell inward, bone snapping seconds before it dissolved into goo. The entire creature seemed to implode, the body melting in upon itself, condensing into a single semi-spherical lump of white. Alita waited another long moment... then slowly approached the lump.
"What happened?" Alita wondered aloud.
"I have awoken," a voice whispered in reply. Before she could react, Alita was yanked off her feet by tentacles from the massive blob. Her Hardsuit suddenly filled with Demon blood, fuzzing her connection with the servos. Before she could activate the internal systems, the Hardsuit was pulled into the mass of white gel.
***
Blackness.
Whiteness.
Falling.
Floating.
Thinking.
Speaking.
Two minds...
Alita stood... but she did not stand. Her feet seemed to be planted on something, but she was surrounded by a void. What kind of void, she was unable to tell. Colors... shades... everything seemed unreal. There was a complete lack of smell... of taste... of feeling. There was no noise, and there was nothing to look at. So, Alita stood on nothing, waiting.
"What is this?" Alita asked. No, she thought, I didn't say that. I thought it. But... I heard myself speak it. But my lips didn't move... I'm sure they didn't! What is going on?
"Am I dead?" Alita asked, holding her lips shut. Her speech, however, was unimpaired by her lack of oral movement. In fact, Alita found herself incapable of moving her lips. This movement also brought to her attention that she appeared to be completely naked. Of course, there was the mist that wasn't mist in the void that wasn't Jersey, so she was still pretty well covered. Alita rubbed her head, trying to make sense of the universe around her.
"You are alone," a figure stated, appearing before her. Alita raised an eyebrow, wondering if the naked girl standing a few meters in front of her had also noted the irony of saying such a thing at the moment that the situation in question was alleviated. Once again, Alita rubbed her head.
"Who are you?" Alita asked the girl. The short, flat chested twelve year old met Alita's gaze with a startling self assurance. Her hair of no particular color and no particular length blew slightly in a non-existent wind, partially obscuring her eyes of no particular color. "And why has the text suddenly gotten so strange?"
"I," the girl stated, "am Elena. You have entered my mind."
"So you're the creature Taskrel resurrected," Alita stated, a tone of calculation in her voice, "What exactly are you, anyway? And what happened to Taskrel? I don't understand what is happening."
"To answer your questions in the order presented," Elena began, "Yes, I am the creature the one known as Taskrel resurrected. Or, rather, I am the mental representation that you have been presented with in this time of resting. As for what I am; I am a machine. My function is to destroy life. Taskrel attempted to join with me, but he was life, so I destroyed him. You are being processed. At this time, I have no ability to digest your form of life... so I am studying you. I hope that you may help me to evolve."
"Good god," Alita muttered, "an eloquent Netman."
"You are alone," Elena stated again.
"Yeah," Alita replied, frowning, "any reason you keep bringing it up?"
"Because the concept confuses me," Elena stated, "You and I are both... solitary. And yet, I am not 'alone' because I do not feel 'alone.' You cause yourself distress for no apparent reason. This confuses me."
"You're supposed to be the big shot weapon," Alita shot back, "Haven't you ever killed a lonely person before?"
"This is not my usual function," Elena returned, blushing slightly, "I was created so that my very presence would disrupt the functioning of most life forms, converting them into parts that I could assimilate into myself. The minds are lost in the process, for exactly the reason you witnessed earlier. A complete mind has the ability to overrule my programming for a period of time... until my emissions destroy the mind and convert the body into parts. In the case of Taskrel, he merged his mind with my body, but my body continued to slowly digest him until I was able to break his mind from mine and complete the assimilation."
"You're saying that... while he was controlling you... Taskrel was slowly turning into a Demon?" Alita ventured. Elena nodded. "What a fool."
"Yes," Elena agreed, "He believed that he could alter the program."
"What exactly is the program?" Alita inquired.
"I seek out life and convert it into usable parts," Elena stated, "All life. My function both allows me to grow and to destroy my enemies."
"But, what about life forms that are not your enemy?" Alita ventured.
"There is no such condition," Elena replied, "Life is my enemy. That is the basis of my programming. My purpose is to destroy life."
"But... what of your creators?" Alita asked.
"They are my enemy," Elena stated, "They created me to destroy their enemy, but they were also my enemy. So, they sent other machines... non-biological machines that I was unable to convert... and hurt me. They could not destroy me, so they brought me here, to the place you call Io. The atmosphere of Io is, when combined with my body chemistry, dangerously toxic. They imprisoned me here, using the Key to contain my aura within my cavern and to dampen its effect on life forms. Thus satisfied with my imprisonment, they left. Now, after I regain my full power, I shall return and destroy them."
"How long ago was that?" Alita asked.
"By your concept of time," Elena began, "seven hundred million years. The city above my resting place was maintained for about two thousand of those years... then my guardians left. I remained solitary until the archeological dig at Dis discovered me. I made use of Taskrel... it was my survival instinct alone that cohered him into aiding my resurrection. Had more of my mental facilities been functioning, I might have picked a more stable candidate."
"Seven hundred million..." Alita breathed, "damn..."
Actually, she didn't breath. It was merely a continuation of the strange lack of any reference that made her appear to breath the words. Alita groaned slightly, wondering why her mind kept thinking such silly disclaimers about her action and trying in such odd ways to describe her setting. Did it matter if the void around her was attempting to look un-green? Did that fact even make sense? Alita decided that not only did she not give a flying rats ass about it, but that she had many more important things to think about.
"At any rate," Elena said, "We are still no closer to discussing why you feel 'alone' after a mere month of your time and I do not understand the concept after more than seven billion times that amount of time."
"You can't understand the concept," Alita stated, "You lack the mental capacity. Your programming negates your ability to feel lonely. To understand the concept, you must give up your programming."
"How can I do that?" Elena asked.
"By evolving," Alita stated, "Just as you said you wanted to."
"It is true," Elena stated, "I had hoped you could help me to evolve. But, evolution is the changing of parameters to better accomplish the programmed objective. You are asking me to give up the objective for the sole purpose of changing the parameters. Such an action does not constitute evolution by the definition in my programming."
"Don't you see," Alita protested, "Your programming dictates what kinds of changes you may make to yourself. Your programming is what controls you... what holds you back. You have to... to fight the programming! To move beyond it! That is the only way you shall truly evolve!"
"Such a concept intrigues me," Elena stated, "However, I am unable to alter my programming. I am programmed against the option of altering my programming."
"But Taskrel altered it," Alita stated, "Just for a short time, he caused you to act against your programming. Why not try that again?"
"A living mind will degrade the moment it comes into contact with me," Elena stated, "As with Taskrel. That event was not forced by me... it was the natural and inevitable result of binding with me."
"But you can't degrade me," Alita said triumphantly, "I could break past your programming, alter it, and make you understand the concept of loneliness all at once!"
"Your proposal seems... odd," Elena stated, "If it worked... would you not lose yourself in the process? The entity Alita would no longer exist."
"Nor would the entity Elena," Alita stated, "That's the point. We would both evolve. We would be one... a fresh start. You would be free of your programming... and you would understand loneliness and other similar emotions."
"Like friendship?" Elena asked, "Love? Hatred? I see all these concepts in your mind, but the one I see most is loneliness. I wish to know why being solitary is different for you than it is for me. It is the only emotion which you possess that is similar to my situation."
"Par for the course," Alita stated, "But my point is, you have something to gain from this transaction."
"What do you have to gain, Alita?" Elena asked.
"Me?" Alita repeated, "I... I have a promise to keep. And... I could use a fresh start. I'm tired... so very tired of this life. My life as Yoko... and as Alita... they are meaningless now. I am a clone, out of place and time. I serve no purpose, other than as a gun for that turd Marver." Alita paused, turning slightly in the void. "For you, evolution is a way to escape from that which holds you back. For me, this will be an escape from the memories that hold me back."
"I believe I understand," Elena stated, moving forward. "I accept your proposal, Alita. Release me from my programming... and show me what loneliness is. I shall release you from your memories."
"You won't regret this," Alita stated, taking Elena's hands. The two figures turned in the colorless vortex, the multi-flavored lights flickering around them. How lights could be multi-flavored when not only were they lights, but Alita currently had no sense of taste, Alita didn't know. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
"I can see into your mind," Alita whispered, "I can see your programming..." With a touch, the base code for Elena's behavior melted away. Reprogramming lock-outs died with the kill-all-life directive. Sub-programs for creating Demons broke up with their parent programs, crashing the entire network within Elenas mind.
"Is this... a trick?" Elena asked.
"No," Alita replied, "it is what I promised you." With a blink, Elena flowed into Alita's mind. Alita's entire existence flashed through their minds, replaying for Elena. Using Alita's synapses, Elena experienced it all, erasing the data as she went. Alita's mind began to break up as her memories were striped from her brain. With a choked sigh, Alita felt herself die.
"Alita..." Elena called, "Don't leave me alone!"
With a flash of nothingness, both Elena and Alita were enveloped in a flood of non-color. Random gibberish flowed past, streams of broken data flashing in the un-sky. The void became filled with chunks of dying code from both minds. That which was no longer necessary was flushed from the system as a new matrix formed from the ashes of the old.
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Where are you?
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Hello?
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Myself?
I am myself? I am... I.
What am I?
I am...
***
Marsel was sure this time. There was no doubt about it, he had done it. Nobody could deny him this time. There was no way it could be otherwise. After all, what more could there be?
Marsel was now sure that he had seen everything.
First of all, he'd seen Dis burning in the distance. Big shocker that one. Then, the giant flying ugly bat-thing. It hadn't gotten too close, though, cause some little black thing had shown up and killed the big white thing. Then, after melting, the big white lump sucked in the little black thing. Now, the white lump was boiling away. Talk about the show of a life time!
Standing up, Marsel decided that he'd had a long enough life. After all, he'd seen everything. Now, it was time to do a little more... he was gonna see it up close. It might be the last thing he ever did... the white lump might suck him in too... but he was gonna damn well try to get a close look at it before it did! So, with nothing but a pair of house slippers between his feet and the desert, Marsel ventured forth.
The white lump turned out to be farther away than he'd guessed; a good three miles. Spittin distance for the likes of him. But, even so, the lump was almost gone by the time he arrived at the scene.
A course black stain covered the area where the lump had once resided. As more of the white fluid soaked into the sulfurous ground, more black powder was produced. From the smell alone, Marsel knew it to be gun powder. "Damn Pot-nitrates," he muttered, spitting some flem into a small mound of the black powder.
Turning back to the ever shrinking lump, Marsel decided it was high time he tuckered down and touched the darn stuff. As it reached dimensions of about six feet by two feet by one foot, Marsel down stooped and stuck his finger in.
"What da hell?" Marsel asked himself, "There's somethin in dare!" He poked again, and found the same resistance in the same spot as before, regardless of the fact that the blob itself had lost some more mass. He reached to poke again, then paused as something broke through the surface of the ooze.
"... Oh lordy," Marsel exclaimed, "I've been pokin dis poor gal's pri-vates!" Indeed, two well formed breasts were now showing through the gel, as was a face and some strands of hair. Pulling off his coat, Marsel covered the girl's waist so as to not stare, then turned his attention to her face. As the last of the gel dissipated, the girl began to breath.
Her eyes flickered open, glittering green in the dim light. She sat up quickly, her long silver-toned hair bouncing around her radiant face. Marsel took a step back, momentarily taken aback by her beauty.
"Ah hell," he muttered, "I guess I ain't seen everythin after all!"
"What... happened?" the girl, who appeared to be well into her late teens, asked groggily. Marsel moved to her side again, making sure the jacket was covering all appropriate places.
"I don't rightly know," Marsel stated, "But you seem to be okay now. I'm Marsel. What's your name?"
"My name?" the girl asked, "My name is... Aya."
"Well alrighty, Miss Aya," Marsel greeted her jovially, "If yall don't mind, I'll help ye back to my place. You can borrow some of my late wife's clothin till you get a-hold of some of your own."
"... thank you..." Aya murmured, letting the elderly man help her up. She flashed him a smile, one of innocent beauty that almost struck him dead on the spot. Gulping slightly, Marsel guided her back towards the city.