#prior that though was. another few weeks of just chatting but i remember feeling unwell then n

[noxtivagus]

euphrosyne ost

[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness Overload Chapter Thirty-Four

I carved the words into a stone, 'rumors of my demise have been greatly amusing', then departed once more. Just a simple joke for me, and me alone, but I pictured a stranger exploring the desert and coming across the rock to see the message inscribed and wonder what it could mean. Then, as it would turn out, that it means nothing, nothing at all, and I would always be the only one to know the answer to such a mystery.

I woke up not long ago in a sweat and an aching head. I didn't know how far I would have to go. Escape was something unimaginable and here I was, outside, in the dead heat of the sun. If only I had a map or a compass. Maybe that would have taken from the fun.

So where did that leave me? Out, in the open, I suppose. Drones, missiles, you name it. They could have struck me down. Turrets, landmines, can't forget those.

Except it felt like all had been forgotten.

Oh, I could remember everything, but it was all wrong. Unreal. It was said that no one who enters who isn't supposed to be there could escape alive and yet here I was, right? Maybe there was something to that, though. Maybe I never really left. Or maybe I did leave, but not alive, or not alive in the same way that I was before.

All of those thoughts might have just been musings of a delirious person, lost in the desert. It was so hard to tell...

“...I deserve this,” my dry mouth croaked.

For what must have been miles, I trudged on. No end in sight. At one point I tried to count each second that had passed, but then I lost count.

I collapsed once more.

Across the desert, I drove my morning stroll with my pickup truck. Bumps and rough terrain abound, but I was used to such things. There was just something about getting away from the main road out on the highway and sitting in the vast nothingness.

Usually that was how things went. I'd sit in my truck at about six in the morning and watch the sun rise. That particular morning I went out, my serenity was interrupted.

“Holy shit!” I slammed on the brakes and stormed out. On the ground was a redheaded lady in a strange attire, laying there, motionless.

I went up to her, my first thought being that she was dead, or if not dead, in need of serious medical attention. Slow breathing could be heard, although not quite a relief just yet. She might have still been unwell. After all, the heat can be unbearable, and those unprepared run the risk of severe heatstroke and dehydration.

So, knowing this, my first thought was to alert the authorities. Shouldn't have been my first thought, though. My second thought was a good scolding from myself to myself, because, of course, knowing where I was and the events that had transpired just a few day prior, I could put two and two together...

In the end, I lifted her up and brought her into my truck. She remained asleep as I placed her in the passenger seat and fastened the seatbelt against her.

I'll just drive her to the nearest hospital. They'll know what to do with her, plus they're less likely to ask too many questions.

“I'm gonna get you some help, okay?” I turned my head to her as I started my truck. She didn't say anything in response. I didn't expect her to, anyway.

The drive ought to have been a smooth one. Once back on the road, anyway. There were still a few bumps here and there in the dirt. Couldn't be helped, just par for the course. I considered stopping at the inn first, as it would be open soon, and it might have been a good idea to let the rest of the staff know where I was going.

Not soon after starting the ride did my truck drive over a rock and sure enough, there was the thud. It was enough to wake her up and I heard her groan at first, then from the corner of my eye, saw her rubbing her eyes. I turned to her.

“Finally awake, huh?”

She nodded.

“You were trying to break into Area 51, right?”

“Something like that,” she spoke, her voice low and hoarse.

Her stomach rumbled.

“Need some breakfast?” I offered without even thinking of how I was previously going to drop her off at a hospital.

She nodded. Not much for talking, it seemed. Not that I could blame her.

I watched as she held her palm over her forehead and shook her head.

“This damn headache...how long have I been out, anyway?”

“No idea. I just found you here.”

“Figured as much.”

Her lack of shock or surprise was a complete surprise to me. I imagined that anyone in her position waking up in a stranger's car would wake up in quite the shock. Something told me she was used to things like that.

“We'll get to the diner soon.”

She didn't respond to that. Instead, she rested her head against the window.

However weak I was, I managed to walk out of the truck and into the diner. Outside I was met with alien and UFO decorations, trailers and RVS parked off to the side, and a giant green alien sculpture next to the diner that doubled as an inn.

Total tourist trap.

I looked up and groaned. Even the name of the restaurant was some extraterrestrial pun not worth mentioning. Please understand, not knowing the name was for the best.

Inside, I took my seat at a booth near the front counter. Around me, the restaurant was empty.

“In case you're wondering, we don't open for another hour.”

“So, it's...”

“7 AM.”

“Right.”

She served me a cup of coffee alongside a glass of water.

“Drink up,” was her commandment, as if I needed her permission. I was going to do that anyway.

It was a hot, black coffee. I took slow sips as to savor the flavor, even if said 'flavor' involved bits of coffee grounds.

“Wow, this is the best coffee I've ever tasted,” I remarked.

“You don't have to lie to me, missy. It is what it is, I get it.”

After a few minutes, she brought me a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and sausage links. Of course, I chowed down. Regardless of quality, it felt like an eternity since my last proper meal and so it may as well have been the best breakfast I've ever tasted.

“You missed it, you know. The 'Storm Area 51' raid was a few weeks ago,” she informed me, as if this was information I really needed to know.

“Don't people attempt that every day anyway?”

“...And get themselves killed, yes. But 'Storm Area 51' is more like a party that goes on near the entrance. Third annual year it's been going on, in fact.”

“Ridiculous...”

“What about you?”

“Huh?” I acted surprised, my mouth full of egg.

“What were you doing out there?”

“Being ridiculous as well...” I grumbled.

“I take it you've not heard of the event before?”

“Not really, no.”

“Have you been living under a rock?”

“More like a pyramid.”

She laughed. It was one of those friendly laughs you might find from a hairdresser. In fact, she looked like someone I would have loved to have been my hairdresser if said hairdresser also doubled as a hostess at a diner.

Above me in a cabinet were mugs with aliens printed on them. Cute, tacky...cacky? Wasn't so sure about that last one being a word. Ought to be. As soon as I had access to the internet, I would start a petition to make that a word. That sounded like a good idea. I was allowed one of those, wasn't I?

“Yeah,” I added. Her laugh was cute, which gave me further incentive to ramble on. “That's where the aliens really are.”

“Oh, are you one of those 'ancient aliens' types?” She egged on. That reminded me to finish eating.

“No. I don't really believe in much.” I took another sip of bitter juice.

“That's a shame. We're all about the unbelievable here in Rachel.”

“Yeah? Name one unbelievable thing that you've encountered in the last few days.”

“Well, something magical happened. These trees and grass grew just a few miles out, then disappeared. We think it may have been government experiments. Maybe they have some environmental technology that they were testing. Or maybe we were all drunk at the right moment to think we saw something like that.”

Right. That happened.

“Okay. Name anything else.”

“Well, I found you.”

“I don't really believe it, either. How do I know I'm even here right now?”

I shook my head, my headache persisted. There was a constant dizzy feeling that refused to leave. As if at any moment I would reawaken in a cold, metallic room, suspended in the air by clasping claws, and watch as I was experimented on.

None of that happened, though.

We continued our chat. She turned out to be quite the conversationalist and prone to telling jokes, albeit, her sense of humor was very dry. Then again, her humor could have been much livelier had she not been through such a rough time and didn't sound so dry, herself. I poured her another cup of coffee, half to help her, and half so I could keep listening to her. Usually this place was covered with tourists and all of our staff was too busy for conversation. This was a nice change of pace.

“So if you didn't take part in the 'raid', how'd you end up out there?”

She mulled it over after a few slow drinks.

“My friend and I were going to check out the gates. Just go on a little sightseeing, is all. Our ride broke down, so we had to walk.”

Ouch. That must have been quite a walk.

“So you walked all the way there?” I balked.

She shook her head. Her voice was still a low mumble.

“Heavens, no! We hitched a ride from someone named Art.”

“Kind of husky guy, into cryptids?”

“Yeah. You knew him?”

Past tense. Wasn't a good sign.

“Yeah. Used to pass by here every so often. Liked to carry around fake IDs to try to buy drinks, but come on, 'Artoria Pendragon'? Really?”

Her eyes widened, then lowered them. Like she just heard some kind of revelation. She lowered her head as well, having folded her arms onto the table and resting her head on them.

“Anyway,” she continued. “There was an accident. Crash of some sort. Car burned up, went up in flames, like in movies. As I said, ridiculous. But it happened. Or at least, I recall something like that happening.”

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry...”

“Don't be, it was an accident.”

Wasn't sure if that was her dry humor, or actual reassurance. Couldn't understand how it could be the former, seeing as it must have been a traumatic situation for her. But the latter made little sense either.

“What about your friend?” I felt I shouldn't have asked.

“I...” She winced, looking like she was about to shed tears. “I don't know. Really.”

I handed her the dispenser of napkins, thinking she could wipe her eyes with some. She didn't use them.

“It's funny. It seems that wherever I go, I meet people, and then they die. Like I'm cursed or something.”

“I don't think you're cursed,” I did my best to assure her. “You've just been dealt a bad hand.”

She shook her head. “I dealt myself this hand. It was my decision to go.”

“That doesn't mean...”

“You know,” she seemed to be changing the subject. “I used to work for the CIA. I could tell you all of their secrets, if you want.”

I wasn't sure whether to humor her or not. She shook her head once again.

“Actually, I'm not even sure if I know all of their secrets anymore. Not that I ever did. Just enough to get me into trouble.”

“Did you really? You look so young.”

She smiled, then let the smile fade. “What does it matter?”

“Well...?”

“I'm an enemy of the state, just so you know. Some days it feels like Will Smith, other days it's more like Edward Snowden.”

“I'll humor you: if any of what you said was true, why tell me?”

She shrugged, then stretched out her arms and yawned.

“I guess I just don't have anything to live for.”

I crossed my arms and scowled. “Now, come on! None of that nonsense! Especially after I just served you a free meal!”

She smiled and it seemed genuine this time.

“You're right. Sorry, I have a bad habit of telling tall tales.”

“Well, you could at least try to keep them light.”

She leaned in. She must have been reading off my name tag. I forgot I was even wearing it.

“Say, Connie. I've told many lies, but I feel like I can be honest with you.”

“Of course.”

“My name's Mavis. It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can meet again some day.”

She got up and walked out the door, just like that. I ran toward the door and yelled after her.

“Should you be going anywhere? Do you even have a place to go? Why don't you stay at the inn?”

She just waved back as if she didn't hear a word.

Make no mistake, I was grateful for the hospitality, but there was my own matters to deal with. Things left unresolved. My ship, for instance.

It wasn't too hard to find. Blanc and I had walked toward the highway in a straight line. Now, one could refute 'but Velvet! Which direction toward the highway!' and to that, you'd probably get called an idiot by yours truly because obviously it would have been the direction leading to Area 51. Now that we got that out of the way, I can get in the way. Of my ship. What I was trying to say was that I wanted inside already, dammit!

There was just an eensie-teensie problem and that was even though I knew it was near, from the outside, it was still the vast, empty space as usual.

I paced about. That was the problem, wasn't it? My stupid ship was a magnificent thing, but I could have walked through it without even knowing and then what?

“Hm. How have I been able to get in in the past?” I pondered, still pacing. I already knew the answer. Whenever it was stationed somewhere, it was in its physical form. There was no need to put it in the intangible form because it would be hidden underground and I could come and go as I pleased. When it was in the state it was currently in, I was already inside, safe. Now, on the outside...

I was stuck. If there was one thing I hated, it was being cooped up in a place. Sure, there was a limitless canvas I could walk across, but why should I have to do such a thing.

Frustrated, I tried out a hypothesis. Rather, a meaningless gesture in a world that no longer made sense.

I gave a good knock in the air, then pulled my arm back. The door opened.

No, it shouldn't have worked. Yes, it defied logic. But I was past that. I had come and gone from a place that felt like a fever dream that overstayed its welcome. Whether or not I was in the realm of reality no longer mattered, all I had to do was jump in and close the door behind me, and so I did.

There was the main deck, there was a room adjacent with beds. To the right of me, the pilot's chambers. In the main deck was the table where my laptop sat, and a chair to study in. As I looked around, I was hit with this ghostly air, the feeling of emptiness washed over me. Nothing had changed since I left, yet I was back to being the only occupant.

Then the feeling went away. Instead, the feeling of joy overtook me as I ran up to my desk and hugged the chair.

“I missed you so much!” I cried out. “If there's one thing I hate, it's a ship that doesn't go anywhere!”

I said that as if there was really anyone else around to hear. No. Not this time. In a sense, I think I would enjoy it. That is, being without company.

“Now, I have work to do. I didn't just risk my life on a whim.”

I pulled open my laptop, then pulled out a fingerprint scanner attached to a USB cable. Once plugged into the laptop, I got to work.

Here I was, in my office, just a simple manager of a simple antique shop, when two ruffians walked in. Two ruffians, and my cashier, Jeeves. Oh, the boy had a different name, but Jeeves suited my little cashier much more, as all associates should first and foremost be prepared to serve the manager as a personal butler.

“Boss, this American demands to speak with the manager.”

Just what I need. Tourists.

I walked right out and greeted my two lovely guests. My, what ruffians they were. One was a redhead who wore what I had to assume was some kind of militaristic outfit and the other was a young ruffian in their 20s with messy black hair and eating lamb on a stick without a care in the world.

“Oh, what beautiful rose graces us on this fine day? To gaze upon such a presence, I am simply unworthy! Please, angel, what ever shall I do?”

“Can it!” She grunted. “I'm gay.”

I straightened my tie and scowled. “So am I, but I appreciate good aesthetics when I see them.”

“Cool. Look. I'm looking for something in particular.”

“By all means, feel free to browse around. Whatever pleases the beauty.”

She groaned and handed me a card.

“Here's my request,” she said. Her words plain. To the point. Not sure whether to like or dislike her demeanor. Not to mention, with her attire, I was expecting mercenaries to flood my humble establishment at any moment.

At any rate, I stared down at the card, then looked back at the nuisance.

“I'm terribly sorry, but we no longer do business with members of The Order of the Rat Mom.”

She gave a nervous smile, then took out another card. “Sorry, I forgot, that was expired. Here, this should do.”

My eyes widened.

“Consider me impressed. To think that the Lamp Chasers was an not only actual organization, but to be blessed with one of its members. Please, allow me to show you the wares in the back.”

She smirked, then turned to her companion and cupped her hands.

“Hey Blanc, wait outside, okay?”

“Why?”

“This is adult business.”

“The fuck? I'm an adult too!”

“Okay, well, you know how porn shops are called 'adult stores' and doing your taxes is considered 'being an adult'?”

“Yeah. Which one is this?”

“This is like doing your taxes, but in a sexy way.”

“Ah, okay.”

She threw a couple of coins their way. Her companion failed to catch the coins, but picked them up and gleamed.

“Go buy yourself a Millennium Puzzle or something! I'll be out in a few!”

I walked back into my office while my esteemed guest followed close behind. I flipped the sign on my door to 'sorry, we're closed', then locked my office door. Once inside, I examined my bookshelf and picked out the right book.

My bookshelf slid to the side to reveal a passageway down a flight of stairs. We exchanged no words until the bookshelf closed back in behind us.

“How did you find this place?”

Air grew thicker as the light grew dimmer. My beard tingled. The silence had to be broken.

“I asked around and was referred to your shop. Was told to look for Sucon,” she answered with a sense of urgency.

“Well, it is I, Sucon, at your service.”

“Is that really your name?”

“No. But we deal in secrecy, as you know. My clients are all important people. Some may know me as Sawcon. It all depends on what you're looking for.”

We made our way down the steps where an ambient glow emanated from rows of glass cases. She browsed around and I had to admit, I stood in place, also taking a browse. Browsing at her, and what it was she might have been after.

“Tell me something, miss...”

“Valkyrie,” she sent me her reply without a moment's notice.

“Alright, Valkyrie. Tell me: is Agarttha real?”

She didn't look interested in answering, focused on one thing in particular. Still, she answered anyway.

“Yeah, and it's trash. Shimosa's so much better.”

“Oh, but what of Atlantis?”

“Could have existed. Don't see why not.”

“So you don't know, but you're not ruling it out?”

“Look, man. There's already cities that are technically below sea level. If one of them gets hit with a big enough flood, I'm sure they could go under as well.”

“I see, I see...”

I walked over to what she was looking at and peered into the glass as well. What she was so fixated on was concerning, to say the least.

“What need do you have with this?”

“I'm looking to gather some sensitive information.”

“I'm sure that shouldn't be a problem for someone of your expertise.”

“Believe me, I've tried.”

“And?”

“No results.”

“So you expect to get your results with this item?”

She nodded.

“Tell me how you intend to get such information.”

“You can already imagine how,” there was a look in her eye that implied something dangerous. “Seeing as you're the merchant. You know how this thing works. Besides, what's it to you what I do with it? Working with someone?”

That struck me as odd. Something wasn't adding up.

“I work with whoever has the means to buy from me. As for you, you're not who you say you are, are you?”

“I never said who I am. Just who I'm associated with.”

“Did your organization put you up to this? The Lamp Chasers?”

“In a sense. We want to dig up dirt on a rival organization. To do so, I'm going to need to use your device and scoop up as much data as I can.”

I thought it over. She was still fixated on the device. Could anyone blame her? Still, there would be no sale without a sense of trust between us.

“Tell me, who was your favorite of the valkyries?”

“Hm?”

“Mine was Brynhildr. Such a tragic figure, that girl.”

“Yeah, that's cool. I don't really have a favorite. Is this thing fireproof? If my fingers bleed, will it still be able to record data?”

“We can make the necessary modifications.”

“That's what I'm talking about. Now what about payment?”

I cleared my throat. “Come back in a week and we'll discuss this further.”

“Oh, come on!”

I waved my finger. “In a week. Then we'll make the arrangements.”

She left, disappointed. But I had all I needed to begin my research on her: her fingerprints.

So obviously I obtained the device in the end. It worked like a charm. If not for it, I may have never been able to get back into my ship. I think I was banking on the idea that I could grab a remote or something to control the ship. I had the keys, didn't I? Of course, they weren't any good if I didn't take them with me. I took a peak and sure enough, they were still in the ignition.

Velvet, you idiot. Once again, you make things harder on yourself.

Oh well, that was neither here nor there, right? What my current focus was on was the data being uploaded to my laptop. It all looked like strings of code. No files, but codes filling themselves. I couldn't even believe my eyes; they kept changing. It was like watching a virus at work, spreading. But this wasn't a virus, was it? It was a living organism in digital form. Some sort of limitless being forming and reshaping itself before my eyes.

I saw it once before. Way back in the city when I tried to hack into the underground cameras where the clone Blanc was located. “Clone”, as if that really mattered. As if they weren't the Blanc I had come to know since the beginning.

Yes, Conrad asked me to monitor them. But after a certain point, the camera seemed to override my command and change its code on me. Every time I tried to get back in, the code kept changing and growing more and more complex.

It looked like the same was happening here. Luckily, my merchant friend gave me another piece of equipment in case the following were to happen.

The bells chimed, my eyes darted to the door; I was ready.

“Hey, what's all this?” She entered, along with her companion. Those two hooligans weren't going to get the drop on me. I hired some armed mercenaries who stood by the door, their weapons drawn. My guards did not speak a word, but I knew that sly vixen could taste their malice.

“Dang,” the black haired one looked toward the guards. “This is some high-end antique shop.”

I nodded. “This one gets it.”

“Okay, but what's the deal?”

“Don't worry, they're for my protection.”

She glared. “...We can discuss this downstairs.”

“Good girl,” I stroked my chin and led her back down. The black haired one behind her wanted to follow suit and I couldn't quite trust them not to be some devilish figure either, but it was the redhead I had to be wary of.

“Blanc, stay outside.”

“Now, there's no need for that,” I played coy. “You can browse my many wares while the girl and I discuss our matters.”

Blanc, as the name the redhead referred to them as, gave a sudden and grave expression. “You better not harm her.”

“That all depends on her intentions, not mine.”

“Blanc, this isn't so serious. We've been through worse. Remember that time we accidentally raided that tomb?”

Blanc nodded and a smile crept. “Yeah, silly us!”

...Just who were those two?

Never mind that, there were more important matters. After Blanc stayed behind, the redhead and I made our way down the stairs and closed the bookshelf behind us.

“You were sloppy,” I began pointing out. “You left your fingerprints all over here.”

“Who cares? Are you accusing me of being a thief? I offered to pay upfront.”

“Nothing of the sort. I deal with many shady characters, some independent, some contract hires, some who belong to secret organizations. However, neither the Lamp Chasers nor the Order of the Rat Mom exist.”

She sighed. “So I made some shit up. I had to get in here somehow.”

“I've dealt with liars, no doubt. You must have your reasons. That's not of my concern. However, I did some research on you.”

“Don't tell me you looked into my love life.”

“No jokes, ma'am. Not today. Not when I have a serious threat in front of me.”

She gulped.

“Your attire, it already made me suspicious. Sure, I get mercenaries. Folks in military gear. They are of no concern to me. The thing is, you could have been one and if you were, there would have been no need to hide it. Instead, you walk all casual and try to be discrete.”

“So? You don't want what you do out in the open, do you?”

“I have my provisions,” I reminded her. “You must already know this. You must have done your research to know that I would have what you desired. It so happens that I did my research on you as well, and my suspicions were correct: you're the lady who stole a aircraft from Groom Lake. You have a death warrant put on you by the US government.”

“What about you? It's not like you've told me who you really are. 'Sucon'? Really?”

“Some call me Sawcon. My full name is Sugon Dhese.”

“...I'm not finishing that joke.”

“As for you, you're not really Valkyrie, are you?”

“Of course not. My actual name is Mary Sue Doe.”

“...It's Velvet. Or, that's the name that's listed on your file from the CIA. Velvet Waver.”

She held back some laughter. “Only one of those names is correct. Guess which one.”

“I don't care what your name is. I care about your reputation. I deal with hooligans and scoundrels, but not those of ill repute. None of my clients have sullied my name. You're a wild card.”

“So, am I in trouble or  not?”

I shrugged. For all the tension I brought her, I was a simple man.

“As long as I get my money, you may receive the device. However, I don't like it.”

“Don't like giving it to me?”

“I know you well enough. You intend to go back. It wasn't enough to steal a ship, was it?”

“In a sense, no, it wasn't enough. Or, maybe going back there isn't the right place to go, but it's the best lead I have. The place I'm most familiar with. With all the secrets they hold, they're bound to have what I'm looking for.”

“What about your companion? What is their significance?”

“None whatsoever. They're no one special.”

“Are they now? They seem rather attached to you and you to them.”

“I told you I'm a les--”

I shook my head. “That's not what I mean. What is their significance to you? Why have you brought them with you?”

“Blanc is a best friend of a friend, or was once. I feel a responsibility toward them.”

“Yet you would endanger them by returning to that forsaken place where the air force has been made aware of your presence once before?”

“I'll think of something.”

“Will you? Where will you leave them behind?”

She hesitated. “I didn't say I would...”

“I'm not saying they're a liability, but I don't fancy the idea of you so carelessly throwing away the life of someone innocent for your personal gain.”

“What about you? You're a capitalist.”

“What I do to others is on me.”

She leaned up against the wall. “Assume that I acquire this data, but it rewrites itself. Scrambles itself like an endless cipher.”

“You're talking about the code.”

“Yes.”

“If the code can rewrite itself, it must have had it written in the code to do so in the first place. If you can delete that line, the code will have no choice but to stay still.”

“What if the code rewrote that line already?”

“Nonsense. Nothing is truly 'rewritten', just 'overwritten'. The original is still there, underneath, somewhere.”

“Do you have something that can help with that.”

“Yes.”

“I'll wire the money to you.”

I allowed her to leave after that. In the end, I still had my business, and one life, two lives, they were no loss to me. 'Velvet', or whoever she was, would one day have to live with her actions, but I? I would remain rich.

Blanc and I would travel around during that time. We were two and a half years into the pyramid scheme with Conrad when I learned of the merchant. Although at the start of year three was when we left, I had grown restless much longer than that.

The merchant was right; those groups didn't exist. I just banked on the idea that they could have after researching names of many secret societies.

There wasn't even a certainty that I would need such a device, but my doubts of Conrad's effectiveness grew. If Blanc and I didn't leave, if we were more patient, maybe...but then again, maybe Conrad wanted it to happen the way things did. It was impossible to tell.

The merchant's descrambler worked, thank goodness. My laptop only had 300 TB of hard drive space, not to mention a terabyte of RAM. There was only so much it could take.

“Finally, I am uncovering these fleshlight fuckers' secrets...” I murmured.

But before I had a chance to look at the contents, a knock pounded at my door.

“That's odd...did they find me already?” I closed the laptop just in case. My mind raced to this hypothetical 'flashbulb' or the feds. The CIA. Or the military. Was my ship about to be seized? Did they have a tracker on their data? Did I just put a sign on myself letting everyone know where I was?

My mind continued to race and the knocks grew louder. I could hear a voice this time.

“OPEN UP, IT'S BUTCH!”

I don't know a Butch, do I?

I opened the door a crack, even though I could have played into the enemies' hands. The short figure appeared before me, glowing, tanned from the desert heat. She wore a baseball cap with the name 'dirty sox' written on it. Her blue hair had been cut short, so she looked more like an angry pixie. Still, it was a familiar face if there ever was one.

“Mavis?” I tilted my head. “How did you get here? How did you survive, for that matter?”

“I told you, I'm Butch.”

Oh no. There was just NO way I could help myself. I burst into laughter.

I pointed to her and poked her shoulder. “You, a butch? Since when?”

She growled. “Shut up and let me in!”

“No. Nope. No way.”

She wouldn't listen. She shoved her way past me. I don't know where she found such strength when I remember her just a shrimp behind a computer desk...just like me. I blinked.

“Fine!” I slammed my door shut. “But I demand to know how you got here!”

“I did terrible things...things I would have rather not done. But I'm here. That's all that matters.”

“Damn...I'm sorry.”

“You better be!” She snapped. “Besides, this is property of the United States Air Force!”

“No, I think it's Property of Velvet. Finder's keepers.”

I plopped back into my chair and swiveled around. When I came back toward my desk, I propped my legs up and opened my laptop back up. What I found out what astonishing. Documents pertaining to the ETNA Corporation. The same one that took residence in that city. In fact, Dr. Chekhov mentioned something to that effect. Dr. Etna providing resources to him. I proceeded, parsing and skimming through other documents.

“Hey! Don't just ignore me! I'm right here!”

“I'm not ignoring you. For all I know, you're not real and I've just gone insane. For all I know I may be back there and never left and me being here is an imagined scenario that I've put myself in to cope.”

“...You're insane.”

“That is a side-effect of being down in that place. Now, if you excuse me, I would rather not be interrupted.”

My eyes darted from window to window. Documents on the research of an organism these scientists labeled an 'angel'. Programs in place to fuse the organic structure of this 'angel' with an artificial intelligence, then use the extracts of the organism with other forms of technology. The link between the research on this otherworldly being and the elevator that got put into place.

The start of this whole mess.

I knew what those did already. Conrad knew, Kelly Roger knew. We all saw those documents. But did we know the extent? Maybe Conrad already did. Kelly Roger was always too contrarian. Conrad always went on about The Flashbulb and was so convinced, but this...

It seemed they did and they didn't. The Morale Department, the real name for the ETNA Corporation. It was put into place by a group known as The Flashbulb, but then who or what they were was still missing. One other thing was missing: the most vital information of all.

Where were they located?

“What are you even doing?”

I turned around and I don't know how I found myself with such a delirious smile, but there I was.

“The real reason I went back there. It's on my computer now.”

She crossed her arms. “That reason being?”

“My ship never needed fuel. It wasn't designed to need fuel. I just needed a distract. I was the distraction. While everyone was focused on trying to kill me, thinking I was scrambling about like a chicken with its head cut off, I was running my hand along every wall, extracting all I could.”

“You...”

“No one ever took notice! Not even you! If I tried to extract information from you guys remotely, I would have been caught and the information would have never ended up in my hands! I needed to risk my life just for a little bit of proof!”

“Proof of what?”

“Conrad always went on about how he needed to stop The Flashbulb and his conviction was good enough for him, but never for me! He thought he could wait it out, wait for the opportunity, but not me! I get restless, I need proof! Here, in front of me, now, is that proof!” I couldn't help myself. I was cackling. I had won. I had lost so much, but I had won.

“I was suspicious if I could even trust Conrad. I needed to know what he was saying was true. So I did my own research. But it all came up with false leads, or half-leads. I may be an idiot, but I am no fool. I know there were things being obscured, obscured in such a way that I couldn't find it. But I needed to know. I was itching to know. What was so worth hiding that not even I could find it?”

“You were just looking in the wrong places...” She suggested. I brushed her words aside.

“No, the places were everywhere. They put up these conspiracies. The truth, the lies, they're everywhere. Leaked documents, symbols. Most of them false leads, but they allow them to leak, they allow people to think they mean something, so they can get away with their real crimes. That's what they do.”

“Divisions, corruption. It's all a calculation. They allow rumors to spread. Rich, those of influence. Secret societies. Part of them may be part of this and that. All of those things are bad and they flood the senses with the sensation at such a rapid rate that they're unable to see anything else. The truth? The truth isn't out there. It's here. It's everywhere. It's all a lie. They want to save humanity. They want to ruin humanity. They are humanity.”

“You're beginning to sound paranoid,” her voice cracked. She looked a little frightened.

“Yeah, maybe I am a little paranoid. Maybe I always have been and I've just had different methods than Conrad or Kelly Roger. Maybe that's why we worked so well as a trio. Because even though all three of us served similar roles, we were all varying degrees of paranoia. Alone, we're dysfunction. We're reckless. We'll explode. Together, we might have done something.”

I looked back at some more documents.

“Conrad helped keep me in check. I was never meant to be a leader. He could take what he needed, safe in the shadows. I'm too reckless. This is the only way I know to operate.”

“Look at this right here: 'The ETNA Project'. It's gone under many names. Dr. Etna herself, leader of the ETNA Corporation has called the project many things. This supposed 'angel', being one of them, but damn...none of them are quite right and yet all of them may as well be. Etna is the ETNA Project. She was the first creation to combine the properties of this organism with a piece of technology. She was designed to command and be who she was, designed by The Flashbulb.”

It was her turn to laugh.

“That's what this whole thing has been about? The Flashbulb? That's child's play! I could have told you all that! Everyone in Area 51 knows that!”

“Everyone there also has this 'angel' in them, apparently,” I added.

“Yes, as does much of the world.”

Right. The elevators.

“That's why we've brought ourselves to ruin. Just look at recent events.”

At her request, I opened my browser. In front of me lay articles detailing the destruction at the city I once took residence in. People flying into manic attacks; raging acts of self-destruction with smiles on their faces. I looked back at Mavis. She looked stifled, a sweat building up. It was similar to how she acted in the facility when she tried to attack me.

“We tried to put a limit on the limitless. As you can see, it didn't last.”

I grit my teeth. I knew I wasn't responsible, but I felt that for all the time I had wasted, I could have done more.

“I need to know where they keep their headquarters.”

“I could tell you,” she offered. “But I wouldn't know how we could there.”

I sighed. Back to square one.

“You know what's funny about all this? You think The Flashbulb is the big conspiracy here, but they're just another company and like a company, they answer to investors. Those investors, answer to other investors. Those other investors answer to them. There's always someone bigger until it goes back to where it started. But the real conspiracy is you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I thought I knew all about you. We all did. Even the CIA knew nothing.”

“That is true. I put that I had a Master's in Computer Programming. I was an English major.”

“The thing is, they didn't know your resume was falsified until after you leaked that document and fled. They're usually very thorough. Nothing should get past them, or us. The first time, it all checked out. The second time, nothing. No such records. So, how?”

“I needed a reason to get in in the first place.”

“Why?”

“I had a girlfriend in high school, her name was Violet. One day she just vanished. I tried looking for her, to no avail. I did all the searching I could online, no results. Even as I entered college and worked toward higher education, I was determined to find out what happened to her. I thought that if I entered the CIA, I would find my answer. Sure enough, while there, I learned that she had joined the military at one point, but it didn't say which branch or where she was stationed. I thought that if I made my way into the Groom Lake Testing Site, that one of their databases would give me an answer. I got careless, however, and was caught, so I fled in a stolen ship.”

“That's the truth behind it all? The big twist? You did all that you did because of 'the one who got away'?”

“Many people thought I must have been some sort of spy or secret agent when really I was just an ordinary girl who learned all these things in hopes of learning the truth about her old love.”

“You're crazy.”

“What can I say? People do crazy things when they're in love.”

“No. That's not what I mean. Your story is full of holes.”

“Are you saying I would lie about someone so dear to me?”

“That's the thing about you. 'The truth is...' this, 'the truth is...' that. There's partial truths somewhere. But never the whole story. When you were first at the facility, back when you stole this ship, you left many fingerprints and strands of hair behind. No gloves, nothing to keep us from finding out who you really were. Except...your fingerprints didn't match anyone's. Nor did your hair. There were a couple theories for this: you erased your own history, your own records, without anyone ever finding out, or you never had any to begin with and were born to a secret organization where they never gave you a name or any records. One that we didn't know about.”

“I--”

“I know. You're independent. All your messes are your own. But that's the thing: we went through every high school in and outside of the country. No one who matched your description. You could have changed your image. You could have used something to mask yourself.”

“I--”

“And no, you can't use that 'people do crazy things when they're in love' line. I've seen Hercules! That movie is too iconic to not get the reference! Next your tell me your actual girlfriend's name was Megara!”

Damn, wouldn't that have been great?

“In fact,” she continued in the rantings of her own. “We've recorded conversations you've had. Compiled a list of names you've used for yourself. Most of them contain the letter 'v' within. Usually starting with 'v'. Violet, was one of them. For all I know, maybe 'Velvet' never existed, or maybe she did, and maybe Velvet did have a girlfriend named Violet, but you're not Velvet. For all I know, the person I'm standing next to is Violet.”

“Purple isn't my natural hair color,” I smirked. Clone or no, she was more clever than I ever gave her credit for.

“Was purple Violet's natural hair color?”

“I have used that name. In fact, just earlier today, I told someone my name was Mavis.”

“What?! Why would you do something like that?!”

“I thought you were dead!”

“That gives you an excuse?! Just use a dead person's name as your own?!”

I shrugged.

She looked fucking pissed. Like I just pissed on her grave and she rose on up to exact vengeance upon me. But rather than strangle the life out of me, she composed herself.

“It doesn't even matter what your real name is, if you even have one. It seems your preferred name is Velvet seeing as that's what you've used most often.”

I tidied up my collar and looked rather pleased with myself. Good. Best to let a good thing keep going.

“You know, you kind of remind me of her...” I mentioned, looking away. “I thought for a while back there that maybe you were a clone of her. Or a clone of me. Or some sick combination.”

“Do you still think I was?” Was. Was?

I shook my head. “It doesn't matter. The most likely scenario is that they thought so high of me that they could find someone with what they thought had a similar set of skills and cultivate them until they resembled something like me, but obedient to them.”

“Well, regardless, I'm me.”

“That's a good way to look at it. Speaking of, where do you think you'll go now that I told you what you wanted to know? Think you'll snitch on me?”

“I can't do that. Thanks to you, I have no home.”

“You never had a home in the first place,” I said, without even thinking about how harsh that may have sounded. “They just created you to serve a role.”

“Excuse you?”

“Sorry. What I mean is, even before you found out what you were, you didn't really care about the military or any bullshit like that. You may have gloated in some nefarious things, but it was mostly to get at me. No, you justified your actions because of the supposed money you thought you were making, or would make. But you were never allowed to leave, and you never saw that money, so what good would that hypothetical money would have been?”

“I know that now, okay?”

“So where are you going to go?”

“I'm already here.”

“No, nu-uh. That is NOT what I mean.”

“I have no home, you said so yourself. I'm staying right here.”

“No, you're leaving. This is a one-person ship. It's reached its maximum capacity!”

“You and I both know that's not true.”

“Well, I work best alone and with you here, I am not alone.”

“That's a lie as well.”

“Look, bucko, butchy, whatever you wanna call yourself: if there was some sort of enemies to lovers thing going on, it was on a slow path. First there's enemies, then there's reluctantly working together and tolerating each other, then friends, then close friends, then lovers. We didn't even reach the friends category! This ship is reserved for me and my friends.”

“Well, too bad. I'm staying. End of discussion.”

I gave up, or gave in, I forgot the difference. I let out a deep sigh. There was too much to unpack and I hadn't even looked through my ship for any snacks. I needed a nap. With a look of resignation, I got up out of my seat and headed to the bunks.

“Where are you going?” She demanded.

“To bed.”

“It's 2 PM!”

“I've had a long day. Goodnight.”

I climbed into the top bunk and laid on my back. Underneath a pillow was a stick of gum. I stuck the gum in my mouth and chewed.

“You're not going to lose control again and attack me, right?”

“No way! I'm past that! You know that!”

“...If you like my face so much, why don't you kiss it?” I muttered, then blew a bubble.

“WHAT?!”

“Just kidding.” I turned to my side. “Unless...”

“No! For your information, I hate your face so much that I want to find some gorilla glue and prevent you from ever opening your mouth again!”

I felt like I was going to giggle like a schoolgirl at such a childish remark. Oh well, good enough as any to get some shut eye.

Velvet was right to question how I was alive. I really shouldn't have been. Nor was I. At least not as the person she knew.

It happened as she ran off after I told her to go on without me. I sat, awaiting whatever fate may come. Sure enough, Etna appeared before me.

“You failed to kill her.”

“That's right. She's still alive, so why don't you get it over with and kill me?”

She looked down at me, her tall figure staring as if I was an animal in an enclosure at the zoo and she was a curious child.

“What would you have done if you were to have made it free?” She asked me. My head was down. I couldn't even tell if she was looking at me or just in my direction.

“That's easy. I would have changed my appearance, changed my name. Find some place to hide where no one would ever find me and settle down. Even if it meant a boring life, just to know that I'd be alive and safe, that would be enough for me.”

“What name do you think you would have given yourself?”

“Why the fuck do you care?”

“I don't. Answer anyway.”

“Butch.”

“Funny.”

“Shut it.”

“I could grant you your wish, if that is what you desire. However, you will still die.”

“You mean one of your elevators? You'd just expect me to walk through there and become a new person? Can you even make one appear now?”

“Yes. Or something similar”

“Why would I agree to something like that? Being a new person, that is.”

“Not only that, but there is a chance that you would lose yourself again. There is an even higher risk, in fact. You may find yourself more relaxed in some aspects, but more prone to instability.”

“I'll do it.”

“Why?”

“Because in truth, I want to teleport to her. I want to meet her and kill her, then replace her. Then and only then can I be a new person.”

“Is that what you believe?”

I had no response. Maybe the effects hadn't worn away. Not fully.

“If that is your wish, it will happen. But if you do not truly desire it, it will not.”

“Why are you helping me, anyway?”

“I was in a similar situation, just a moment ago. I thought I knew everything and that I was in control, but it only takes someone who knows something you don't to undo it all.”

“Do you really care about humanity?”

“No. But call it the human side of me to want to be recognized by my peers, just as you.”

“Funny. You have your pride to maintain.”

“Yes, and that too is slipping. At one instant, I thought I saw my other half, but it was just an image that I had conjured up, a defense mechanism in my programming to convince me to keep going. She may never show up in this universe, but then again, it could have been a premonition. I cannot say.”

I looked up and told her to take me through. I didn't understand anything about her “other half” but Etna was known for being a cryptic, self-indulgent piece of shit.

She raised her head, understanding my request. What opened up was not one of her elevators with its blades and razors, but something more like a door. No darkness. It looked like a swirling light show of lasers, shades of silver and aquamarine. I knew when I stepped through that the version of me inside the facility would be disintegrated and yet I went through anyway.

What emerged on the other side was the 'me' that landed next to her ship, able to knock on its door. That 'me' was now hovering over her on her bed, on my knees, and holding a knife pointed toward her. My intention was to stab her while she was unaware. If she were to wake up, I would have kept doing so until I knew she was gone, out of my life, and I could claim this life as something new, free from her influence.

...But that wasn't how it worked. If I did it, plunged it into her, that would have been it. I could have been successful. She didn't even seem to notice me. But what would the point have been? She'd be dead and I'd be there, alone, with nowhere to go.

Yes, I could have flown the ship, found somewhere, and landed, but the reality was that I knew the world was ending. She was right and I was right. I didn't have a home. I didn't have a place to go. It was the reality of the situation and no needless bloodshed would change that.

What would change that was a push, not from anything I noticed, but just me, and a loss of balance. There was a heaviness in my eyelids. Even if very little happened, the truth was that I too...

I fell over. The knife dropped onto the floor.

What I landed on was her chest and I couldn't break free.

“Did you just try to kill me?” She asked.

I was startled. How long had she been awake.

“I'm too tired...”

She wrapped her arms around me. Tears began to form around my eyes. She felt warm, I didn't even try to break free.

“You should sleep, then.”

I wasn't really sure what was going to happen the morning after. She didn't seem to know what she was doing, either. Maybe we were in the same boat in that regard. We at least were in the same ship. I drifted, not knowing where we would go. Not believing that we could go anywhere. But I tried to have hope that we could find a place, somewhere.