Let your thoughts be but few,
Do as other
folk do,
And never be caught by surprise
From a poem titled “Il Segreto Per Esser Felice” by James Clerk Maxwell 1831 – 1879
Max found an empty room and slept while the world was saved from another nano-quake. When he woke, his mobile phone floated in the dark room just out of reach. A Cheshire cat smile appeared upon its cracked screen. Was Confucius comparing him to a modern day Alice, struggling to make sense of this subterranean world?
‘Howdy partner,’ said Confucius with excessive enthusiasm.
Max rubbed his eyes. ‘You’ve had too much electricity. What time is it?’
‘Quarter past ten. The others have eaten their evening meal, but no one was hungry, so there’s plenty left.’
Max sat up and was surprised by the amber and green light spilling from the expensive AnyWhere(TM) frames which decorated the room’s walls. They streamed a live view from two amazing locations, probably intending to relieve the claustrophobia of underground confinement. At this hour, the view of lava flowing down an effusive Vanuatu volcano was spectacular, and the other, of the aurora borealis over Mount Erebus, supernatural. But neither did anything to lift his spirits.
‘You really should eat,’ said Confucius, while circling his head. ‘The guards ordered out. Steak – cooked extra-rare – and a Hawaiian pizza with the ham pulled off for the vegetarians.’
‘I should get you back to Phenalla before she wakes.’ The phone’s orbits were making Max dizzy, so he swiped to retrieve it, unsuccessfully.
Confucius glided back into range.‘Alla doesn’t need me. I’ve cloned my kinder parts – they were really quite small – and I’ve inserted those into her smart earrings. She won’t know the difference. She only sees the good in people.’
‘But you’re not a person!’ Max failed again to snare the phone. He hadn’t considered the possibility that Confucius might want to reproduce, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. ‘Let’s go see that food you mentioned. Was there no salad at all?’
Out in the otherwise deserted common area, he found Mr Fred changing a light fitting. On the floor near his ladder lay a set of electrical plans for the entire complex. ‘Ah, Max. I’m glad you’re up. I was running out of excuses to stay.’
Max went over to the table and poked at the bloody meat and burnt crusts. He deliberately avoided looking into Mr Fred’s eyes. Mr Fred must have used some form of mind control to manipulate the doctor and the guards. ‘What is it you actually do here?’
‘This and that,’ Mr Fred climbed down and wiped his hands. ‘Mostly I keep my eyes and ears open. I know, for instance, that now would be a good time for you to run – before they come to their senses and adopt plan B.’
Max looked up and almost got a dose of hypno-eye. Even a glimpse partly disrupted his thoughts. What could Mr Fred want? Quite sensibly, Confucius had disappeared again, but Max could have used some guidance now. He looked down at the plans on the floor. Maybe he didn’t need the phone’s help after all. ‘I suppose you’re going to accidentally leave those lying around for me to use?’
Mr Fred nodded and put the plans on the table. ‘I’ve highlighted the electrical riser you can use for your escape. They stripped it out last year when the new cold fusion generator made it redundant. We can go six months without external supply now. The riser should have been filled with concrete, but the wheels of government move slowly. It has plenty of room – even for a well-built guy like yourself. Your lady friend will have no trouble.’
Had Cathy already spoken to him – used her female charms to win her way out?
‘Why are you helping us?’ Max asked.
‘You, Max. I’m helping you.’ Mr Fred knelt down and began searching amongst his gear. ‘I don’t mind if you want to take Mrs Taylor with you. I saw the miserable way she died last time.’ He peered into the depths of his toolbox as if it were a window into the past. ‘We found her in a shoe shop. She’d dragged herself there after the gun fight in the food court. With her last breath, she touched the Celina Tarantino showcase. Very sad. They were on sale too.’ He looked up. ‘She deserves a better end, so take her by all means – just don’t do anything she says.’
The man had a vivid imagination, Max would grant him that.
‘I guess you’re going to tell me you’ve had one of these previous lives too? Are you all Buddhists or something?’
Mr Fred laughed. ‘Not far wrong, but I see you’ve not accepted the truth. Never mind. I can’t prove that our destiny is in your hands, but with each cycle, the fellowship is growing. By combining our knowledge, we will eventually have irrefutable proof that you are the chosen one.’ Mr Fred sighed, bowed his head to the floor and pushed a large scroll towards Max’s feet. ‘And by helping you now, we hope you will consider our requests.’
When Max didn’t move, Mr Fred added: ‘They’re listed in order of priority. If you don’t have the time for them all, then the first ten would be a good start for a better life on this planet.’
Loopy or not, curiosity made Max pick up the scroll and scan down the very fine print. He sensed Confucius reading over his shoulder.
‘Number 6!’ Max exclaimed. ‘No more anchovies! How would that make the world a better place?’
Mr Fred peeked upwards from his prostrate position. ‘You’re not are you? An anchovy lover?’
Max’s opinion of Mr Fred dropped considerably.
Mr Fred scrambled to his feet as Max walked away. ‘Please consider our requests, Max. But whatever you do, don’t trust her.’
Max stopped. ‘Cathy? Why?’
‘We think she’s a conservative.’
This made Max laugh. ‘I’m not interested in her politics.’
‘No. You don’t understand.’ Mr Fred’s voice had lost some of its mellow tones. ‘She’s one of them. Someone who wants things to stay exactly the way they are. They’ve been unhappy with the changes in the last two rebirths. Their leader, a Texan named Karl, is not your biggest fan. Evidently you killed him twice before, but we don’t know much more about that.’
Karl’s name sent a shiver down Max’s spine. With all that had happened, he’d almost forgotten his confrontation with the big man. Max realised he’d nearly killed Karl a third time – if you could believe this rebirth nonsense. And could Cathy be in league with Karl? Brainwashed to kill him?
He walked back to Mr Fred, snatched up the electrical plans, and stormed off with his hunger unsated. Once out of the janitor’s sight, the scroll of desires went into a bin. People were always telling him what to do, and even though Cathy was the worst, he stopped outside her door. It was ajar.
‘Confucius?’
‘Yes master.’ The phone reappeared at eye level.
‘What do you think?’
‘Strictly speaking, I don’t. But if I did, Confucius would say, “Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall”.’
‘Meaning?’
‘You made a mistake going to Cathy’s house and, by so doing, ending up here, but now it’s time to leave. Together, you and I, we can right all wrongs.’
Max wasn’t really listening and needed only a moment to decide. If he took Cathy with him, her daughter would be fine with the support of her father – and the Confucian clones of course. ‘Is she alone?’
‘Ah, so you think she can help you?’
‘I want to help her!’
‘Confucius would advise against this.’
‘Confucius!’
‘Doctor Taylor has gone, but you might not find his widow in the mood for travel.’
Max’s hand stopped over the door handle. ‘Widow?’
‘From behind the dishwasher, I overheard them talking. It seems Doctor Taylor became frustrated with today’s re-enactment. He opened the containment vessel too soon, and the vacuum became contaminated with his brain tissue. Considerable purging will be required before another attempt can be made. There will be no nano-quake within the specified deadline.’
Conflicting emotions filled Max’s head, none of them involving grief. Cathy’s tragedy did simplify his choice though. He couldn’t take her away from her daughter now. And there was the small matter of his imminent public execution to consider. Was defrocked pizza and cold steak the best they could manage for his final meal? He only needed to fetch his sandals and jumper – then he’d be gone.
‘Where were you?’ Cathy asked as he entered his room. She was sitting on his bed, fully dressed in skin-tight black, with a bulging sports-bag under her arm. When she saw him staring at it, she explained, ‘Just a few of my favourite things they fetched from home. I’m ready to go.’
‘I heard about Graeme. Are you sure you still want to escape with me?’
‘More than ever,’ she said, but her smile was slightly unbalanced. ‘The sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can concentrate on dying, then, hey presto, it will be Wednesday again, and Graeme will be alive, and, better still, he’ll remember this life. Even he wouldn’t risk another nano-quake in our next life,’ she paused, ‘assuming Grae and I are as happy as we were in this life.’
Her logic was sound, at least from her perspective, but he would never have described Graeme as happy.
‘You returned last Wednesday? So you don’t actually start your life over from scratch?’
‘We do, ’ she said, ‘and will do again. Everyone does. Though not everyone gets to remember it. It’s like everyone who is alive now gets to make all the wrong decisions over again, only they are different wrong decisions.’
‘Wouldn’t that could make school rather boring? Or your first kiss?’
Cathy rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be silly. School is meant to be boring. But it’s not like that. You don’t wake up as a baby with all your memory intact. I can’t be sure what it’s like for the others, but I’m only conscious of my new life from last Wednesday even though it feels as if another forty years has passed. And it didn’t give me much time to stage our meeting. Grae must have told me sometime that you always rode to Uni, but I had the devil of a job convincing him to show me where you rode, without giving the game away.’
‘But why?’
‘To charm you of course.’ Cathy seemed amused at her own plan. ‘Before Daddy died, he told me you might know the cause of the nano-quake. I thought if I could stop it, there would be no war.’
Madness, but a madness shared by at least three people. Max felt in his bones that this night would not end well.
‘Can we go now?’ she asked, eyes wide with expectation.
How could he resist her plea?
‘Okay,’ he said, grabbing his grubby top and unfashionable footwear. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Could you leave your phone here for Alla?’ she asked.
‘Sure, but that’s up to it. I’ve set it free,’ Max declared. Over her shoulder, a Cheshire smile appeared briefly.
‘Good. I don’t trust it,’ said Cathy.
His phone stuck out a virtual tongue.
‘I’ve found these plans that show a possible exit,’ Max explained. ‘But there will be a long vertical climb. Do you think you’re up to it?’
‘Sounds fun,’ Cathy said, ‘But how will we reach that riser? I could lure a guard by revealing myself to the cameras. Then you can knock him out as he comes through the door.’
Cameras? Of course there were. And microphones! Had Mr Fred considered these?
Oh, well, better late than never. Max put a finger to his lips and took her hand. When they reached the exit from the detention area, the door again unlocked at his touch. Cathy gasped.
Max had previously assumed this was Confucian hacking, but maybe he had Mr Fred to thank? Having seen Mr Fred’s scroll of desires, he didn’t want to be in the man’s debt, and they were going to be really disappointed when he couldn’t grant them a single request.
Max led them through the corridors, trying not to look up at the cameras located at each junction – looking up would be a sure sign that they were not supposed to be there. The main issue, though, came with the outdated electrical plans. Wall relocation for a new pool hall caused them to detour through the cinema lounge, but the guards there were too engaged in a rugby match to notice.
He stopped to check the plans one more time. ‘The cable riser should be just around the next corner.’
Cathy went ahead then pulled back sharply.
‘Someone’s there,’ she whispered and pulled him into a crouch. ‘I think he saw me.’
‘You can keep coming,’ called a familiar voice.
Max peeked around the corner and found Mr Fred standing next to a partly open door.
‘Do you have the scroll?’ he asked as Max stepped forward and looked into the riser shaft. A rusty metal ladder disappeared upwards into the darkness.
‘Ah…I’ve memorised it,’ he replied.
‘Impressive. Request six twenty three was mine,’ said Mr Fred. ‘I’ve been worrying that the wording was ambiguous. Could I just check you understood it the way I intended?’
Max calmed his panic as he felt his phone rest gently against his ear. He hadn’t been totally confident that it was following them.
‘Cats will no longer lick their bottoms,’ Confucius whispered.
‘Cats will always keep their bottoms clean?’ Max paraphrased. It wouldn’t do to appear too perfect.
‘No no. I want them to stop, or rather I wish they had never started. Can’t they use their paws, or toilet paper, or something else? That other dog thing is covered in the scroll too, somewhere down in the seven hundreds.’
Confucius supplied the index and Mr Fred looked relieved when Max repeated it.
‘So the world would be perfect then?’ Cathy asked, somehow understanding what Mr Fred was talking about. Again, Max suspected she hadn’t told him everything. ‘You don’t want to add anything else? Maybe hot and cold running virgins!’
‘Funny lady. There was some debate about blackberries – that the last berry picked would always be the tastiest, but I used my seniority to veto that.’ Mr Fred laughed. ‘I mean to say, how would anyone ever stop eating them?’
‘Good point,’ she conceded while making a hidden gesture to Max, suggesting Mr Fred was crazy. ‘Max didn’t mention you were helping us.’
‘We’re helping Max,’ Mr Fred said firmly then turned to Max. ‘I’ll meet you at the top. I want to make sure no one sees you leave.’
‘But what about the cameras?’ Max asked.
‘Budget cuts organised years in advance. There is only a dumb A.I. watching those cameras.’ Mr Fred’s head jerked forward and he rubbed his neck, baffled at the cause of his injury. ‘You better get moving. It’s almost time for a shift change.’
Max nodded and entered the riser, but Cathy touched his shoulder. ‘Ladies first,’ she said and began her ascent fairly well for a sick woman.
‘See you soon,’ said Mr Fred and closed the door on their only light.
The corroded metal was unpleasant to touch, and he tried to judge when Cathy had cleared the next rung by the sound of her shoes. He gave her even more room after she stepped back onto his fingers.
The riser wasn’t heated, but he was soon sweating. A cramp worried his left leg and he was relieved when she announced a stop.
‘One hundred. My thigh muscles are nearly cooked,’ she said. ‘We must have climbed at least ten stories! How much further do you think?’
‘Sorry. The plans didn’t say.’
‘Could you come up here and support me. I think I might faint. I’m seeing stars.’
Max climbed quickly up around her, his feet one rung below hers and their heads almost level.
‘Thank you.’ She rested back against his chest. ‘I just need a little rest. We’ll be able to keep going soon, I promise.’
Eventually his own breathing slowed, but hers remained ragged and wheezy.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘For what?’
‘I shouldn’t have gone to your place the other night.’
She considered that for a moment. ‘You heard what that monster Hess said. Phenalla and I would have been brought here anyway. With or without you. I’d rather it was with.’
Now that he was stationary, the shaft seemed colder. He appreciated the warmth she gave and would have liked to savour her proximity for longer. But prolonged rest could be just as debilitating as none. ‘Do you think we can go on? Or we could go back.’
‘I am not climbing back down. Not after getting this far.’ She pushed her way ahead. ‘Surely it can’t be much further.’
‘Major Driesk did say his facility was bomb proof. Maybe an old mine shaft?’
‘I don’t think so. Can you hear that?’
When they stopped for a moment, the sound of sickly sweet music – something from the yodelling revival of the early twenty-twenties – drifted down from above.
Cathy kept going, but only umpteen rungs further on, she screamed.