Solipsis: Escape from the Comatorium (2 page)

“
Why?
The system works instantly.”

“
Yeah,
but the sensation of hunger isn't directly linked to consciousness,”
Nellie replies.

“
Oh
right,” Peter says, “there would be a delay before the
feeling is passed all the way to consciousness.”

The
robot-monkey stares at his own hands, jaw agape. He claps his metal
hands together repeatedly, awed by the sensation. The robot turns to
the receptacle and reaches for the apple.

“
Oh,
here we go,” Nellie says excitedly. It quickly takes a bite
with its metal teeth. The chewed up pieces of apple simply fall out
the bottom of its metal jaw.

A
six-year-old girl's little feet dangle off the side of her bed. Renee
has short, straight red hair. She's sleeping sideways, across the
bed, tossing and turning. A furry figure sits down on the bed next to
her. She rolls over and is delighted to see an eight-foot-tall brown
bear. “Medved! Can you snuggle with me?”

“
It's
time to get up Renee,” Medved messes up her hair with his furry
paw. Renee nestles against his soft chest. He is a real flesh and
blood bear but with a humanized face.

“
Please
snuggle with me,” she looks up at him and flutters her eyelids
exaggeratedly. Medved can't resist her charms.

In
the kitchen, a small touch-screen shows a PSA warning of the dangers
of "Xenon Shocks.” A stern narrator warns, “Don't
take a chance. If you feel a blast of Xenon, you may have only
minutes to live. Act quickly or that rush of Xenon to the head may be
the last thing you feel.”

A
hand taps the display and the PSA is instantly replaced by a
Breakfast Menu. The hand makes selections then hits "Cook"
and the flat screen disappears. This is Gwen, a thin blonde woman in
her twenties. She is unquestionably beautiful, flawless, with a glow
around the edges as though she were an airbrushed picture come to
life. Renee's father, Percival, smokes a pipe and reads a newspaper.
He's in his forties, his hair is just sprinkled with gray. He's tall,
muscular.

“
Is
she still having nightmares?” Gwen asks as she takes a seat.
Percival simply acknowledges her with a worried look. Medved enters,
tugging Renee along behind him.

“
Speak
of the devil,” Percival says.

“
What's
for breakfast,” Renee asks, rubbing her sleepy eyes. Renee
walks to the oven, peers into the glass and watches their breakfast
materializes onto plates.

“
Renee,
come here I've got something for you,” Percival says. He hands
Renee a small book.

She's
dismayed to find the pages blank. “What is it?”

“
It's
a journal. Every morning when you wake up, I want you to write down
any dreams you can remember,” Percival says to his daughter.

“
What
for?” she asks.

“
Well,
you know how I study brains? Well I'm studying why people have
nightmares and dreams.”

“
Well
duh, because we're tired!” Renee blurts out.

“
But
why?” Percival asks profoundly. Renee shakes her head in
disbelief; what a silly question. “Go ahead, write down your
dream.”

Renee
sits down at the end of the table. She pulls the pen from the binding
of the journal. She scrawls out a picture of a hellish landscape.
Gwen pulls the plates from the oven; each one has a perfect breakfast
on it. Renee puts her demonic drawing down and tears into a stack of
strawberry pancakes. “Daddy, what's your job?”

“
You
know Daddy studies brains,” Gwen says.

“
So
you're a doctor?” Renee asks.

“
Kind
of,” he tries to play it off, focusing on his biscuits and
gravy.

“
Can
I come to your work?” Renee asks.

“
No,
honey. Daddy's work is important, he saves lives. They just can't let
kids run around.” Gwen says. Renee frowns, knowing she's hit a
dead-end.

After
eating, the family dressed for a day out on a beautiful Saturday.
“Are you ready?” Medved asks Renee.

“
Yep,”
she replies, running her fingers across the bottom of her yellow
summer dress. Next to the front door of the house is a box that looks
like a phone-booth with no windows. Percival enters it, closing the
door behind him. The door opens back up and he has vanished.

“
Remember,”
Gwen cautions her daughter, “don't ever get in a televator
with-”

“
Strangers,
I know, I know,” Renee interrupts, having been told this too
many times to count. Medved and Renee, holding hands enter the small
device. Medved shuts the thin metal door behind them.

“
Destination?”
the televator asks in a soothing feminine voice.

“
Solipsis,
Lake, previous saved destination,” Medved says carefully.

“
You
have arrived,” the televator replies almost instantly. Medved
slides the folding door open, revealing a lush green landscape. Renee
and Medved walk out, hand in hand, heading toward a pristine lake,
under a perfect blue sky. Across the lake is a string of mountains,
exceedingly steep and snow capped. There's a dock with several small
boats quietly knocking around in the water. Percival is just ahead of
them, walking across a dock extending into the still lake.

Renee
lays inches above rushing water, sprayed by the mist coming off of
the bow of this small, very light, fiberglass sail boat. Renee rides
gleefully and looks back as the family handles the sails. A gust of
air catches her attention, she looks to the mountain and sees an
avalanche heading down the slopes for the lake. They are thrust
sideways by the frigid gust of air. Renee clings to the boat for dear
life, feeling the fiberglass structure twist and strain. They turn
sharply away from the wind, but this takes them heading toward land
at high speed. Then they try to steer back away from land, but
over-correct, sending the boat into a tumble.

The
boat violently crashes. Renee flutters through the air in slow
motion, then skips across the water like a stone. She comes to her
senses sitting in the mud at the bottom of the lake. She fights to
free herself, but finds her legs trapped by a piece of the boat.
Renee struggles against this object anchoring her to the bottom.
She's sinking into the mud. She screams, inhaling water. She
scratches and claws against the mud, trying desperately to get out.
She inhales more water, choking. This is it. She gasps for air,
getting only more water. There's seemingly no air left in her at all.

“
I'm
going to drown. I'm dead,” she thinks. Time seems to stand
still. It all becomes very calm. The undulating surface of the lake,
five meters above, refracts rays of light over her. Renee's arms
slowly fall to her sides. “Well, this is it. I'll be dead in a
second or two,” she thinks. The thought is so crystal clear, so
matter-of-fact, so calm, like she's already accepted it, it all
somehow seems okay, and she's absolutely stunned by this realization.

But
then she's still on the bottom. Still conscious. Not breathing. Her
lungs are burning, she feels the rush of adrenaline, but the danger
is gone. The whole world around her seems to glow, it feels almost
like a dream or remembering back on a fond memory.

Medved's
furry arms swoop in. Even he can't get her out; unable to get any
leverage as his buoyancy tries to pull him back to the surface. He
fights his buoyancy and sticks his paws in the mud. He finally gets
leverage and raises the debris. Renee tugs on her foot, but can't
quite get out. Medved's arm suddenly snaps, the cracking of the arm
echoes dully through the water. Renee just barely gets her foot out
before the death trap comes crashing back down.
Her
lungs are filled with water, she has the buoyancy of a rock. She
tries to fight up to the glimmering surface, but fails. She falls
back to the muddy floor. She crawls along the muddy bottom as it
rises slowly to the shoreline.

Renee
coughs out water as she sprawls out on the muddy shore. She doesn't
know how to make sense of what just happened. Medved gets out and
walks past her, shaking water off, spraying her with a mist. He
lumbers toward a televator on the hill. Renee watches him walk away,
his broken arm flops around at his side. He gets in the televator,
closes the door, then steps out with his arm back to normal. Renee
rushes to him in amazement.

“
Are
you okay?” Renee asks, grabbing at his arm.

“
I'm
fine,” he says. His furry arms are bone dry.

From
behind a couch, Renee covertly watches Medved disappear into the
televator by the front door. With Medved gone, she sneaks to the
televator, closing the door behind her.

“
Destination?”
a soothing computer voice asks.

Renee
takes a second to work up the courage to say “Hell.”

“
You
have arrived,” the televator replies. Renee takes a deep
breath. The metal televator door begins to glow red at the bottom.
Renee's shoes start melting to the floor. She rushes out, burning her
hand on the door.

Her
small feet timidly crunch across crushed skulls. A horrid demon with
flaming horns approaches. “What kind of torture do we want
today? Huh? I'll show you a good time.”

Renee
is frozen in fear. A dominatrix emerges from a fiery sky and lands
gracefully on the skulls, “Or did you have something more up my
alley in mind?”

Renee
runs for the televator. Skull fragments fly from under her feet. The
bone gravel shifts under her and she stumbles, falling on her face.
Renee finds herself face to face with a decomposing head. The
deteriorating eyes, gray and dried out, swivel and peer through
Renee's scared eyes.

“
Boo!”
the head shouts. Renee screams and runs. Renee finally gets into the
televator, slamming the door shut behind her. “Home! Home!
Home!” She pleads to the machine. Renee steps into the kitchen,
safe and sound.

She
looks at her burned palm and finds it to be perfectly fine.

“
What
are you still doing here!?” a female voice demands from the
doorway.

“
I'm
working,” Nellie responds.

“
It's
four in the morning.” The woman enters the dark lab and flips a
light on. It's Gwen. Her blonde hair is thinning, her face has taken
on many wrinkles of worry.

“
The
fine motor control is coming along a lot faster than we thought. It's
really just fine-tuning at this point,” Nellie replies.

“
You're
gonna kill yourself with this stuff. Dr. Rendrow said you need to
rest.”

“
I
need to finish my work.” Nellie doesn't even look away from the
monitor as she adjusts a pressure sensor on one of her screens.

“
You'll
finish it.”

“
I've
got three months, Gwen.”

“
What's
your hurry? Champ's not going anywhere.”

“
It's
not the funding,” Nellie says, turning to face Gwen finally.
“Three months to live.”

“
The
tests came back?” Gwen asks, her knees weaken, she needs to sit
down. Nellie simply nods and turns back to her work.

Gwen tears Nellie from her seat,
hugging her hard, she begins to cry. “I just didn't want to
tell you yet,” Nellie says. “The good news is that I
think we'll be ready for a human trial in three months.”

“
What?
You're sure you're going to do it?”

“
My
body's dying Gwen,” Nellie says, “but I don't have to.”
Nellie gives Gwen a peck on the cheek and then sits back down to her
work. Gwen is in shock, feeling empty, weak, she half-collapses
against the wall, sitting on the floor.