Kolob sat upright in a chair designed only for pleasure, waiting for Rhonva. Listlessly he gazed out the lone window in his suite which framed the side of an adjacent housing complex next to his. He could see some traces of mitterlight trickle down, casting shadows of air vents and heating ducts as it searched in vain for fertile soil. He was on another inner journey, trying to calm his mind to shut out the voices. It was difficult filling the moments between work and sleep — too much time for his mind to succumb to the power of the cast-net. His thin body still tensed when a particularly strong cast came on. He submitted claim after claim to various stations to stop casting to his mind, to unsubscribe to the myriad of ads targeted for him, but it all was for naught. They still bombarded his mind with the useless, tiresome chatter of sales pitches, public service announcements, Leviathan council process sessions, TELREC propaganda. Sometimes, when a hacker would take over a cast-station, they would blare whatever senseless cause they supported for droas, sending Kolob into isolation, kneeling on the ground, crying for release. Lleldin was the only thing that gave him some peace, the only thing that brought sanity to his mind, though often he remarked to himself that when he was interacting with someone — a rare occurrence, like with his friends at work, or with Rhonva — that the pressure of the cast-net was forgotten, and he even found himself enjoying life. But alone and depressed he suffered, especially now as he had run out of his supply of lleldin roas ago, penalty for his greedy usage to escape a dcas earlier.
Rhonva will be here in only a couple of mroas. He’ll have some more.
He kept repeating those words, over and over, for the past few roas. Sleepless nights would only intensify his torment, providing no quiet calm to distract his mind. He had thought about trying to find another supplier. Rhonva, though always well-stocked, seemed almost temperamental in response to Kolob’s needs. Kolob always paid regularly, but it never seemed to matter to Rhonva. It seemed some kind of game, playing on Kolob’s hunger, and Rhonva’s indifference to it.
Sometimes in his fleeting moments of calm and peace he’d dream of love, and the bliss it must surely bring. To love another, completely, had been the lifelong dream for Kolob. He was never obsessed with fleeting carnal pleasures though they did interest him. He desired to find one he could connect to, one he could share his dreams, his hopes, his pain and fears. He nest how easy it was to meet someone for Novan was so overpopulated — a man should surely run into a willing woman before long. But the roas, dcas, cas came and passed, and all he seemed to work with or see living near him were the old, or the weak, the perverts or the sadists, or meta who just didn’t care.
He struck up an interesting cesct with a meta-sentient once. Kolob went on for droas about his life, his unrealized expectations and obstacles to his success. He could still remember, as clearly as if it were moments ago, how the meta stated that he should terminate his program, and start again. He watched it walk off, with that distinctive gait, heavy yet precise, as Kolob wished nothing more than to take a pipe and bash its metallic head in. He so wanted to break it, mentally, but if there was one thing the meta were good for it was withstanding mental attacks. Kolob yet again accessed the time.
Where is that damn Rhonva?
Kolob hated this waiting, this limbo of action devoid of purpose or creation. He sat, trying to empty his mind, remembering how it felt while on lleldin, the serene dreams he’d have afterwards as the ment-casts gradually permeated the temporary barrier created by the drug. It was difficult constantly switching off the ceaseless
advertising which intruded on his thoughts. Over and over again the pleas to try this or that product, the testimonials of this or that pleasure center, risqué entreaties to watch the daily virt-lives or life-updates.
I’ve got to calm down, I can feel them coming again.
“Who’s coming?”
“Why, were coming?”
“I thought we were already here?”
“So we are, Ha!”
Stop, go away, all of you, pleaded Kolob, in a voice he knew to be his own.
“Go away, to where? Why we’ve just begun.”
“Begun to have some fun,”
“Then we might be done,”
“But not before we’ve begun!”
They danced around in his head, the figments of thought that surfaced from time to time. They started when he was thirteen, a running commentary on all he failed to accomplish, all the mistakes he made. Kolob let them destroy what little triumphs he had, only to disappear when he was occupied or on lleldin.
“Bet he wishes his Rhonva was here.”
“You think they fuck each other?”
“If they do, I know who does whom . . .”
Evil laughter filled his mind, as tears streamed down Kolob’s face.
“Oh, don’t make fun of the baby. It’s not his fault he can’t be with a woman, or a girl, or a slut.”
“He hasn’t got the money for a slut.”
“Or the necessary . . . equipment.”
“Ha!”
Where is Rhonva with that damned lleldin! slammed Kolob, trying to drown out the voices. He paced around the apartment, trying to find anything to do to take his mind off of things. But there were so few tactile things to do on Novan as most got their stimulation from casting or experiencing virt-lives. Kolob felt as an outcast in his own home, a pitiful relic from an extinct race. He searched through his closet, the few personal possessions he had.
Ahhh . . . There it is!
He pulled out a book, the only one he had, and opened it slowly. Small drawings filled the page, with captions of dialogue. Kolob sat down again and began to read, soon feeling the voices recede, the cast-net dwindle to a dull roar in his mind. As he turned the first page, he nest Rhonva’s cast.
^Kolob — you ready?^ cast Rhonva impatiently. Kolob closed his book and carefully put it back, somewhat hidden in his closet, and answered Rhonva.
^I’ll be right down. Why were you late?^
^Don’t worry, I’ve got what you need. Now hurry down.^
I’ll bet it was some women, Kolob thought to himself. Lleldin, and women, women and lleldin. Ahh, what a life that would be.
Kolob gathered his sack and hurried to the lift. Midway down, an older man boarded with him — haggard and filthy, his smell consuming the entire space within the lift. The old man turned and stared at Kolob. Kolob tried to avoid his glare, but the space was too small, and the man was too near. The old man hummed a familiar tune, one that was on many of the virt-lives, a theme that had for some reason attracted public awareness. He sung softly some words to it, for a moment;
“Give me a little time, and I’ll turn teardrops into wine
Sad times into bounteous joy
Look into my heart and see hope made from despair
Grace born from misery.”
Kolob’s mind had a sense of déjà-vu, knowing he heard this tune before, knowing he felt this sense of being observed before.
^You’re . . . Kolob, aren’t you?^
Kolob looked up, and saw they were ten floors away from the bottom.
^Yes.^
^You don’t remember me, do you?^
Kolob looked closer at his face, looking at it directly for the first time. It was old, yet serene, filled with a calm that bespoke of the achievement of one’s hopes, or desires. He knew he had seen this old man before, but just couldn’t make the memory resolve in his mind.
^I . . . maybe . . .^
The doors opened with vacuumed precision, revealing a bright, crisp roa, and Rhonva waiting a few til away. The old man turned to leave, nodding his head up and down, still smiling peacefully at Kolob.
^Good.^
Kolob exited, and watched the old man hurry away, disappearing into one of the many alleys surrounding them. Rhonva came over to Kolob, carrying a small satchel.
^What’s wrong?^
Kolob tried to remember the old man’s face, but even though he left just a few til ago, he felt the image fadi
ng into the recesses of his mind. The tune he sung hung for a moment, the words fading into memory. And then he could hear in the distance the laughing, mocking chorus of voices that haunted his mind, and pulled quickly away.
^Nothing. Where are we going? Have you got —^
^Yeah,^ cast Rhonva, acting irritated, patting his bag. ^Let’s go over there, out of the light.^
Kolob and Rhonva went into an alley near to one the old man disappeared into. Rhonva opened his satchel, and produced a small vial.
^I’m sorry it took me so long, but even I have to be careful of my suppliers.^
Kolob took off the cap, and raised it to his nose. ^Who else do you supply to?^
Rhonva smiled. ^That’s not a question to be asking me, and —^
A light, brilliant and quick, caught both of their eyes for a moment. Something plummeted out of the sky, appearing to descend a few til from where they were, coming through the opening in Topside called the ‘Window of the World.’
^This doesn’t look good,^ cast Rhonva, as the sky darkened around them.
They could feel the impact as if it were right next to them. A great mushroom cloud billowed into the air, engulfing building upon building in its wake. A rumbling grew, first faintly, then amplifying quickly in volume. They could see the enormous structures that filled the Novan skyline collapse into the ground. They were thrown back as if a trans had hit them head on. Slowly Rhonva and Kolob got back to their feet, watching as confusion and fear spread in the people around them.
^Hurry!^ cried Rhonva, shoving Kolob ahead. ^We should get out from between these —^
Suddenly a fierce tremor rocked the ground beneath then, spilling Rhonva and Kolob onto the pavement. More pulses of light could be seen around them as hundreds of explosions spread like lightning.
^Hold on!^ slammed Rhonva.
Shrieks could be heard, growing in intensity, seeming to come nearer to their location. The ground began to shake beneath them, becoming more and more violent, bringing glass and steel crashing down around them.
^What’s happening?^ asked Kolob, his thoughts filled with chaos and fear.
Rhonva by now had accessed an update, learning an Agricultural Platform had lost orbit, and had come down very near them. They were now feeling the resultant earthquake bring down millennia old infrastructure. Power mains were exploding, sending out great waves of electromagnetic radiation, and that brought down thousands of airborne vehicles. Rhonva could feel the fear well in Kolob’s mind, feel it begin to smother all reason and logic within him. He reached out to calm Kolob’s mind.
^This is going to be difficult,^ he cast calmly. ^Relax, stay calm, and we will survive.^
The sky seemed to explode around them, as more power mains blew, open energy igniting in the air, and in moments Kolob’s apartment complex came tumbling down behind them. The ground opened beneath them, sending them violently tumbling downwards into the bowels of Foundation. The quake lasted for several more mroas, shifting and rearranging the debris near them, bringing the thick metal support beams of nearby buildings down, twisting and screaming in the fiery chaos, splitting open the network of water pipes, sending glass hurtling downward in showers of death. Kolob, who was conscious throughout, felt it lasted an eternity, in which he heard every manner of screams from a world which detested the spoken world. They seemed to fall forever, bouncing off and sliding down debris, falling deeper into the substructure of Core, into the bowels of Foundation. He heard dozens of explosions, the last of which sent debris down on top of them, sealing them both in a tomb of darkness.
As the chaos subsided, Kolob tried but couldn’t see anything, but he knew something large and heavy was upon him. He could move his arms, but felt the object was pinning his torso and legs mercilessly.
But I feel no pain, he thought to himself.
He knew he should access the broadcasts to see how extensive the damage was, and if rescue crews were dispatched, but he felt enough fear being down there, and didn’t need his voices to re-emerge and torture him.
^Rhonva, can you . . .^ he cast, tentatively, but felt there was no connection.
The cast-net must be down.
“Rhonva!” he yelled, feeling pain in his throat.
His eyes adjusted gradually to the darkness, and he could see it was a large metal beam that pinned him down. Gradually, he began to shift it off of him, squeezing inch by inch to extricate himself. Without warning, Kolob heard another explosion, and felt a minor quake shake the ground. The beam shifted, and fell more on his legs. But for some reason, again he felt no pain, and knew his legs were not broken.
What am I? he thought to himself. He thought to call for Rhonva again, but now was scared as to what had happened to him.
I must stay calm, I must not panic. It’ll do me no good. Let me just . . . pull out . . .
Kolob squeezed, and shimmed quickly out from under the beam. He could feel it settle to where his body was, and in a moment, it went crashing downwards, breaking through the supporting floors. Kolob looked down, and for a moment was dazed in a stupor.
“Rhonva! Rhonva!”
“Kolob . . .” He could hear faintly, coming from somewhere behind him.
Kolob climbed over the rubble, and began to dig through to find him.
“Kolob hurry, I can’t breathe, I . . . I . . .”
“Calm down,” he said, feeling disgusted at the sound of his own voice. “I see your arms now. I’m almost there.”
Kolob kept digging, becoming frantic, not knowing where Rhonva’s body lay. Am I more concerned about Rhonva, or the lleldin? After a few furious moments, he moved a stone that reveled Rhonva’s bloody face.
“Kolob! How glad am I . . .are you alright?”
“Yes. Hold on a mroa, I’ve just got a few more pieces to move.”
“But, you’re alright? Nothing broken?”
“Hold on!”
After what seemed like an eternity, Kolob managed to move the last stones off of Rhonva’s body. Most of him looked alright, except for his leg, which was twisted in an unnatural way.
“Do you feel your leg?” asked Kolob. Rhonva glanced a look down chuckling to himself.
“It’s broken, isn’t it? Well, at least you’re alive. At least I’m alive.”
Why is he more concerned about me than himself? thought Kolob, as he lifted Rhonva to his feet. “Does it hurt much?”
“No, I had some depressant in my system before I met you, so I probably won’t feel it for at least another two droas. It sure feels weird to use voice!” he cried, coughing and clearing his throat. “I hope they get the cast-net back up soon.”
Kolob stood, looking on Rhonva, glad that he was alive, but needing to ask a question.
“Oh,” he said, nonchalantly, “what happened to the lleldin?”
Rhonva smiled to himself. “It must be around here somewhere. I had it in my right hand.”
Kolob bent down, and tried to calmly move the stones, not letting his anxiousness get the better of him. After a few moments he saw a pool of liquid, and some smashed vials.
“How many did you have?” asked Kolob quickly.
“Five, I believe. What happened to the one I gave you?”
Kolob sighed. “I guess I lost it.” He looked down with longing at the empty, cracked vials, their caps lying with shards of glass in a pool of bluish liquid. Absently he picked up Rhonva’s satchel and handed it to him.
“Here’s your lucky bag,” he muttered. “Damn.”
“All broken?”
“Yeah.”
Suddenly they heard the rubble above them shift, bringing dust and debris down around them.
“Come on,” said Rhonva, “we should get out of here, into someplace that looks safer.”
It took some time, with Kolob supporting Rhonva, but eventually they made their way out of the immediate rubble, and into a clearing that was more than likely the lower level of a plaza. Kolob could feel the cast-net grow stronger.
>
^What do you think? Was it just something local that went down?^
^Yeah,^ replied Rhonva. ^As we move under varying degrees of rubble, the other colvition relays must grow stronger.^
^How will we get out?^
^Don’t worry,^ cast Rhonva firmly, slowing for a moment. ^Now that I can access the cast-net, I’ve been able to review the devastation, and it seems were not too far from the outer perimeter. Luckily, the AG platform came down two til from here. Any closer, and we surely would have perished.^ Rhonva paused, straining visibly to nest something. ^Damn. That platform must have taken out a satellite on the way down. I’m not getting any global information, just a fragment of localized data. I got enough to know where we should head. It will still take us a roa, maybe two, but soon we’ll be able to be back among the living.^
Kolob slumped down on a broken girder, misery consuming his thoughts.
How easy it is to break a man, Rhonva thought to himself. I hold him in my hands, shaped by my will, this pathetic being who is barely a man. Rhonva groaned as he stood up again, his broken leg bringing immense pain. Those cas of training really helped. Before then, pain like this would have brought tears to my eyes. Now, it’s just manageable.
^Come on, it’s about mid-afternoon. We must get walking now, and quickly.^
^Why?^ Kolob’s mind was filled with dread, his eyes laced with despair and frustration, and he fought desperately hold back a river of tears.
^Because I deal with the nastier elements in this city. I know what comes out after dark.^
Chapter 13
Kal-Alçon: otherwise known as Graid. The product of genetic engineering, he was created in response to growing fear that the TELREC would realize their dream of a superbeing; the Cuhli-pra. Synthesized from some of the cells of the Kal-Durrell, the limits of his power were unknown to the Rell overseeing him.