Dire Straits

DIRE STRAITS

Lena looked at him and disappeared into the abyss, dissolving pixelated into the mist.

It was cold in the air but warm, he noticed. The sunset light was a fire, orange and red, mixing together like streaks of lava, rushing down to greet them.

She looked down at her feet, thinking about him. Orange flames glared in her eyes and ash fell down, sticking to her hair. She coughed as one caught the back of her throat. The ceremony would be starting soon. Thousands of feet scuffled around her. The fires roared behind, and the people were obstreperous. The tension was on a knifes edge, and as she looked up, she noticed the trees. The wind was picking up and a stubborn storm was brewing. Pushing the branches and leaves into a slow waltz, that turned into a faster Viennese waltz, bringing the branches closer together at beats of a hundred and eighty per minute. Moving slightly above the average. The last enduring of the white blossom fell down, blending with eddies of ash moving around in the air and became the snows of the spring.

Colloquy filled the room, and the room was profligate, all still foreign to him. The etchings on the walls were made of gold but blurred at a close distance. The words would not come to you if you did not look. His sense of smell was heightened and the food inside the room was enough to overwhelm him, but they were only trying to hide it.

Lena felt a bump underneath her shoe. She rubbed it against the doors bottom frame as she entered, adjusting her eyes to the darkness and felt the mud fall away. Voices behind her grew inexorable.

The smell of the chicken, basil, thyme and tarragon as well as a waft of lemon, made his nostrils flare out as a fresh plate was bought past him by one of the Helinkas. The army of robots were ideal for the Otlinats; they didn’t question. The mind of the Helinka robot matched that of a small child, not old enough to ask why. The gaps in the chain of command were not obvious to them, and the feeling of system and societal collapse was not there. As they went past him, the wheels that acted as their feet, screeched in a sound that was close to a pig’s squeal. He watched them move around the room, serving the others.

The room she had entered was dim and damp. The people were watching the computer screens, showing the live footage of the ceremony back in the capital. Here, it was the world, all they could see. Some of these people would be stuck in this room forever. She listened for the words to come. Lena tuned out the whisperings of conversations around her and moved forward. The people monitoring the screens did not acknowledge her. She slithered past them, pushing at a heavy metal door, ignoring the sound of pomp and circumstance as the ceremony began, and she left the room. Round one complete, fires navigated.

Elias thought about his dead mother. In Londiniums 3125 Otlinat society, appearing unusual in any way was a death sentence. Anything different from the norm, aroused the Otlinats suspicion and the red robes would come knocking. There were two choices when they knocked; death or slavery. His mother met the first, and Elias the second.

The air of the ash had irritated her eyes and a stray fallen eyelash, threatened tears to weep. She listened for it to come, for the guidance to appear. On the other side of the metal door was a graveyard, with gravestones piled up upon one another. The burial keepers had run out of room after the last revolution, and being buried was not an option anymore, it was outlawed. These graveyards had become a symbol of the past, and for some, she realised, a hope for the future.

His head jerked up and his neck creaked, aching from the bad night’s sleep the day before. They were led outside to their quickly, and the Helinkas pointed the direction. Twilight was approaching as they descended the hundred steps of the Otlinats Ascent, and chanting started in the background. The roads had been cleared and horses pulled chariots for the Otlinats, hinting back to the ancient past. Otlinat number one, Luros, was protected by a swarm of soldiers, barely visible to the naked eye, but his golden armour filled him with such effervescence that was unquestionable. Elias looked at the sky and noted that the time of day would be different for her, it would have been decided in the code.

Lena made her way through the graveyard. The grass was waterlogged, unkept, and the dry sections were simply falling into a ruin. The dampness in the air lifted ever so slightly, just as the sun broke through the morning clouds. A hint of pink caught the sky, reminding her of the orange and red flames behind. They were welcoming the dark of the night back there, whereas she was seeing the dawn. Just as the air lifted and allowed the sun a chance, petrichor started to permeate the air. Almost as a relief, a light drizzle of rain fell down, touching her skin.

The chanting got louder, and drums mixed with the thousands of strings from the orchestra. They played in a glass building, of which the architectural design was prominent. The tip of it 3,000 meters above sea level, the tallest building in their world. Wrapping around the edges of the building are all-glass platforms, designed to make you feel as though you are walking on air. It was the Otlinats first design in the city, and their way to make a statement. For them, it said to the people ‘see, it looks as though nothing is holding you up, it looks as though you are going to fall to your death, but that is just an illusion. We are never an illusion, and we are always there, holding you up’. His ears ached from the noise as the music vibrated through the city. If given the choice, he would see it burn.

In her youth, she would stare endlessly in the house of God. The preacher, who either whispered, sung or chanted the words of his holy book for varying effect, did not capture her attention. The ceiling of the church was shaped like an upside-down boat, and the stained- glass windows depicted a tale from the old religion. Escaping should not be needed, but if escape is needed and if you have sinned against someone, a ruler, a leader, a God, then escape by rebirth Lena, remember that. Her father’s voice sounded the words in her mind, and it urged her onwards. As quickly as the rain had started, another streak of light crossed the divided sky, which was almost dome shaped, curving in on them, and the dance of colours reflected in her eyes.

The music got louder and louder, and he shifted in his seat, irritated. Elias was sure the neighbouring planets would hear them. That’s what the Otlinats wanted, they wanted to let them know. They were not the ones being watched, but they were watching them. It didn’t matter if the people were going against them, they were still the ones with the power, and this ceremony, this brilliance that he had designed would only help them. This was still their world and law. Round two, initiated.

A mist formed above her, and the air got instantly colder. Through the layers of her clothes, including a warm knee length leather coat, previously belonging to a cow’s skin, she found herself shivering at the suddenness of the drop. The rain stopped and the clouds became darker, as if the struggling sunlight was being blocked by an eclipse of the moon. She hadn’t seen the stars in weeks, Lena realised. The smoke from the fires lit up the world at night, and nothing from out there was able to get through. They were lucky in the capital; it was different for them.

The threats had been coming for decades. Promise of invasion justified by retribution for revenge. Otlinats made the robots to help them initially, but the originals joined forces with people in the outlands; Elias’ family. It caused the first of the fires, but the Otlinats would not quit. The voices of the women in the choir got louder and more dignified than their counterpart male voices. The high pitch sent a shiver through him and he caught the eye of Revaldi, and for a moment her eyes appeared to dance in colour, changing with the light. Serving as assistant to Otlinat number nine, she stood four rows away. Otlinat number nine was not high enough in the hierarchy to receive a carriage, they sat with everyone else. Elias nodded to her, and she looked back at him but flinched, shifting in the uncertainty.

They had the clearer skies there, but out here, sometimes it felt as though even the skies were burning. She blinked as she walked through the mist, and it was becoming thicker with every step. Darkness was surrounding her now, and the trees, moving in their waltz, became still.

After a split second of stillness, a second of no noise, the music reached its apogee, producing a noise so loud the ground shook. Elias looked back at Revaldi and saw her looking into her hands. She was on their side, and she was waiting for her.

Lena’s eyes flickered at the change of light, and she found herself leaving the misting graveyard behind, walking through an arched walkway, that curled around in on itself. The sky became blocked by the overhanging and intertwining branches. They looked half-dead, not quite at deaths door, but almost there, clinging to one another, holding each other for support in their final frontier.

Elias used the fingernail of his second finger to press into the skin of his thumb, recognising the signal. He watched as Revaldi looked up from her hands and reacted. She rose up from her seat, and moved through the crowds, shuffling her way through, almost unnoticed.

Lena blinked as black and yellow shadows filtered through the leaves, a desperate reach from the outer world, reminding her. She twisted her neck too sharply as a wasp came next to her and its sting was out waiting for the time, trying to enter the next phase. Alongside her, it was trying to escape the darkness that had overcome them, but it was a mask, and all but a mime. The saviour did not often come in the dark, for sins profoundly void the light.

It had been her idea. She had been the one to have it first, a roll of the dice she said, it’s all about the throw and the way the gravity forces it to land. He could hear the echo in his mind, she had said the words so confidently. The idea and prospect had been easy to sell. Selling your soul for your freedom. That was something the Otlinat society liked to see. Elias felt a pinch on his thumb, and an ache in his gut. He hadn’t been so sure; it was her idea. Revaldi walked closer to the red robes, and further away from him. He could not make eye contact now with her now. He found his hands shaking, hanging over the edge. It wasn’t going to work. He needed to get her out.

She had a sudden yearning for sleep, and her eyes blinked with the eagerness of it. Lena shook the feeling and waited for the words to come to her. Sleep would be her end in here, time needed to stay awake, her eyes needed to be open. Her own thoughts questioned her, becoming a thing of their own, and they wondered about the ghosts who had come before. The ones that didn’t make it out, the ones she had trapped. There had been years of trial and error, and most of it error. The flicking red on the screen came to her mind, the memory blinding her.

He could remember that day as if it had been yesterday. A hazy afternoon light flowed through the loft windows in their attic apartment. It was a minimalistic style. The people who had influence in the Otlinat society, mainly the Otlinats themselves, received all the grandeur in the décor still remaining from decades past. He remembered dressing up in a suit for the first time in years.

It had come to her in a dream; the idea. The way to break them was to give them what they wanted, or at least what they thought they wanted. They would never be able to get close to them otherwise. The cell they lived in had been growing closer in on her, and she found it hard to breathe, suffocating in their lies of politics and authoritarian rule, and their design of life, but they were the architects. Elias and herself, they were only doing what they had trained them to do, what they had ordered them to do, design. She exited the archway of the intertwining branches and she felt the sunlight on her face once again, feeling the warmth return to her. Round two, completed.

The nerves had filled him through and through, but Lena was standing next to him, she was the confident one. They stood outside of the main conference room and waited for a Helinka to allow them entrance. When you looked into the eyes of the Helinka it was a strange sensation, sometimes it felt as though they were looking back at you and understood what was occurring around them. Other times, it felt as though they were looking right through you and you were non-existent, nonchalant at the best of times. As he watched the Otlinats continue to approach to the screen, readying themselves for the big reveal, he could remember the words in his mind. They thought they had been celebrating them.

She had been the one to approach them. “They wouldn’t even see it coming, the prisoners of your rule, the invaders, whoever it is. None of them would see it coming, and if you like to, you can keep them in there forever, they only leave when you give them the words to do so, you control everything. No more in-between of a robot and human, but every character that you can control. That’s what they will be, people will become characters in your very own game, and nobody will be able to question you. You’d be saving them from themselves. If you tell them to jump, they jump, and no one would ask how high.”

They thought they had treated us well. The apartment in the attic, was not a home as they liked to pretend but a prison cell. Prisoners of war but with affection, is what they liked to call them. Lena had been so confident; she had convinced him as well as the Otlinats. He remembered how it was after they had proposed the idea. Some of them bowed their heads in a greeting when they passed them, almost like equals. Luros smiled constantly. “He thinks he’s won Elias; he thinks he’s won!” Lena had been whispering in a joyous shout when they returned, careful to be silent, just in case they heard through the paper-thin walls. “They think they are the game makers, but they are forgetting that we are the architects! We are the architects Elias, Revaldi is key to this, we’ll need her chip, you can get it for me Elias, she trusts you.”

The ghosts were stuck forever, captured in time, and never allowing that time to move forward. Kept as a prisoner of light, but she would free it. Splitting a laser beam into two separate halves by shining it through a half-mirror. That’s what this so-called game world was acting as, the half-mirror. Part of her was still on the outside, in the real world, reflecting the code back to herself. She could feel herself moving through the crowd there. She could feel it getting nearer. She could smell the fires again, but this time it was just a distant smell, miles away from her, back in the outlands.

Elias watched Revaldi as she moved, flinching ever so slightly. The flinch was barely visible to the human eye, but if you concentrated hard, you could see it. Watching Revaldi was almost like seeing the air. As a child, he used to think he could see the particles in the air, his mother claimed it was just dust. Perhaps it was, but maybe it wasn’t. Elias didn’t question what he thought he saw as a child; he just accepted the light and the scene for what he thought it was. A ringing started in his ear as he watched her, as the pinch returned to his thumb. “This way” he whispered so quietly no one else could hear him. Revaldi moved. “This way,” he whispered again, like a snake sounding his voice, and from the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of the reflective surface on the ground. The screen of the game was playing at a forty-five-degree angle. Round three was initiated.

Lena could remember the first time she met him, Luros. It been a month after she had officially aligned herself with Elias. They had captured her as a way to get to him. They murdered his entire family, but they still wanted him. They thought he had been the engineer of it all, but they didn’t suspect that it was her who was the architect. She was kept in the room for three years, threatened with death and torture on a daily basis, they wanted her to give him up. They would whisper to her, dire straits Lena, dire straits. Only when Elias gave up, did they set her free from that cell and place her into another one with Elias. That had been their first mistake. They thought they would be thanking them, not coming up with ways to end them. Her fists clenched as anger filled her being. She kept walking and thought of Revaldi. She had been the first Otlinat to approach them. Revaldi was willing, prepared for the sacrifice.

He watched her intently, and she began to move forwards. Revaldi walked towards the centre and headed to the reflective surface on the ground. It was only visible if you were looking for it, the rest of the people were captured by the screen, watching it unfold ahead of them, and not seeing it from this point of view. It was all about viewpoints Elias realised, everything could be told differently from a different view. Even here, they thought they outnumbered them, but they chose to ignore what they were actually seeing. Underneath Revaldi’s red robe he could see it clearly, Lena’s knee length leather jacket. It moved with intention, following its owners’ step. Elias studied Revaldi’s face and around the edges, they appeared to shimmer as she moved forwards, closer to the Otlinats, they had taken their seats to watch the finale now. He breathed in.

Lena moved forward, entering the final phase. The sensation in her thumb came back to her, and she heard the whisperings of his words, pushing her onwards, heading towards completion. A blink captured her imagination as it threatened to fall away from her. Her legs itched as though brushing against thorns from the vines, but it was never about the commotion, or even about the wine. Not even a commendation, stopped when the ticker turned to nine. A funeral was the time of the day, but none of them had come to dine. Yet all were there to play, and that was considered completely fine. Intertwining of peculiar traits, came in the month of the current day, but even that was not enough for the gate and it did not end, not with time at the twilight of the day. It watched as they sailed out from the bay, hailing back towards their fate.

Elias looked at the screen and watched as Lena entered the final phase. She had made good time. The noise from the previous pomp and circumstance of the ceremony had died down and an eerie yet peaceful silence overcame them. The main Otlinats were sitting in the first row, watching the screen intently. For the last phase, the idea was simple, all intended to give Lena enough time, allowing Revaldi to ready herself and finish the programming. Allowing her to step correctly into the light.

She was back inside again, and her eyes adjusted once again to the darkness of the room, only candles gave any source of light. In front of her were rows and rows of books. She moved towards the bookcase, taking out the layers and layers of them, pilling them on top of one another, until the stack reached almost her own height. The words on the covers of the books, appeared to flicker and merge together as she moved them, reminding her of literature of the past. Words lost under the Otlinat rule, words of a different kind of life. The dim light from the flame was playing on her eyes and sleep threatened once again, but she shook herself, steadying her hands that had started to shake. As she reached the back of the bookcase, suppressing a smile. Instead of wood stood an intricate lock. She waited for the guidance and felt a pinch on her thumb, it was the only reassurance she needed, he hadn’t faltered. She moved the lock dial to number one.

Elias shifted on his feet. Revaldi was close approaching them now, he saw the soldier’s eye her with slight suspicion but ignored her for she was only an Otlinat. The soldiers too were captivated by the screen. It wasn’t making sense to them. A person acting with a semi-robot brain, such as Lena in the game, wouldn’t be able to list the numbers of the code to break the lock. It shouldn’t be possible. The silence was growing deafening and the sound of the lock clicking, and the heels of Revaldi’s shoes echoed. A chorus of whispers started in the crowd, and his stomach churned.

Five, six, seven, eight. She found herself saying the numbers aloud, whispering the answer into the flames of the candlelight. The lock double clicked, phase three complete. She blew out the light, allowing the darkness to overcome her. She took the gun out from her coat pocket and found herself back in the capital, looking at Revaldi on the floor, dead, and standing right next to Luros. The lights came back. “It’s a coup! It’s a coup, they’ve tricked us!” Luros stared at her with eyes wide and mouth gaped. She caught a glimpse of Elias in the crowd and gave a sideways smile. Rain started to fall as grey clouds came above them and appeared to take the form of a God in anger, readying itself for the next phase. She held the gun up to Luros’ face and pulled the trigger, “dire straits Luros, this is dire straits.”