42. Jolt
Jolt
Isaak
Isaak’s senses were slowly returning after his encounter with Astrid. Sacha dabbed at the pooling wet on the side of Talia’s mouth. She lay unconscious on a makeshift bed over a concrete slab, plastic adornments connecting her chest and arms to monitoring machines.
Dylan sat next to them, worry across her face, legs restless.
Elodie sat at an ornate desk in the corner of the room.
Ragged cuts in the concrete wall behind her opened to a view of night-time East London.
Neon lights filtered through the gaps, the towers of the skyline in the distance.
There was Tower 42, with its famous sushi restaurant and posh breakfast venue.
Then the Gherkin, so named for its shape.
And the Shard, which used to be the tallest building in the city, built for the sole purpose of being the tallest building in the city.
Since the Dark Year, a new vast tower had taken over that title: the Seat of the First Kingdom, where the Twin Queens reigned from.
Elodie was wringing her hands, her face a mask of furrowed brows and a downturned mouth.
This whole time he knew her as a friendly, non-judgemental face handing him tape, only for him to end up tying himself in knots.
But it was clear there was more to her than that.
This entire building was hers, and he’d had no idea.
He’d passed by the ten-storey building so often on his way to her “home”, oblivious to what else was going on inside.
She stank of a bigger organisation. Even employed a couple of burly servants.
Elodie had lied and hidden what she was really about. Was she just another Astrid?
What was it about him that made people want to use him? He was smart but not threatening. Strong, but not violent. His broken family – his mother missing, and no contact with his father… Maybe it made him susceptible to stand-in parental figures who didn’t always have his best interests at heart.
He got up from the bed, his knee flaring up, the familiar pain a soothing balm compared to the aches all over his body. Even his breathing came at a cost.
“Hey, hey, are you okay to walk?” Dylan rose to help steady him.
“I’m good. Well, good enough.” He leaned on her shoulder, on the same side as his bad knee, feeling thankful for her. “You!” He stared at Elodie, his voice a snarl, raw and guttural. “It’s time we talked.”
The concrete wall behind Elodie was lined with synthtubes and cigarette lighters.
There were various types and makes, some modern, others from back when they were still called vapes, liquid plainly visible in a transparent tube.
With a deft hand she grabbed one from the wall.
“Certainly.” She wrapped her lips around the top bit and pressed a red button and sucked in with her mouth.
The thing made a sharp noise. She tilted her head and let her arms fall to her sides for a few seconds, the jolt of whatever drug the tube was laced with hitting her insides, eyelids fluttering in pleasure.
The sight turned his stomach.
“I’ll start, shall I?” she said. “Why did you poke the hornet’s nest? And without consulting me? I’m offended.”
His chest felt heavy. It wasn’t self-loathing this time, but rather contempt. “I didn’t trust you, given your working relationship with Astrid. And it turns out I was right not to, given everything you’ve been hiding from me.”
Dylan watched him talk, the way he imagined she watched his ReSports matches. Admiration in her eyes. She interlaced her fingers with his.
“Is it wrong to have a few secrets?” Elodie’s green hair shone in the light of a passing zeppelin, visible through the cuts in the wall.
“Yes, it’s fucking wrong. I jacked into Cardinal Row. Does that mean anything to you?”
She just looked at him with a blank expression.
He sighed. “Let me jog your memory. It led to a warehouse with dozens of people strapped to Crypterra Sleepers. I think it’s a Tapeworld mirror to a place IRL, where those people are being kept taped in. And Astrid is using the Tapeworld equivalent to monitor her stable of unwilling victims.”
“Oh…” Elodie’s eyes lit up. “You found it! I’ve been looking for that place for a while.”
A storm bubbled inside him, threatening to spill over. “You knew about the sleptigrades?”
Dylan shot him a quizzed look. “The fuck is a sleptigrade?”
“Astrid’s grey shapes.”
Elodie took another puff of the synthtube and leant forward, glancing at their interlaced hands before looking back at their faces.
“We believe it’s the end result for someone trapped in the Crypterra Sleeper.
Their tape-presence, after an undetermined amount of time, becomes corrupted.
They lose their will and become your grey shapes.
” Her cold detachment did nothing to ease the mounting sense of horror in him.
“Fuck. You know what that means?” Dylan moved away from him, suddenly with a thousand-mile stare.
He rubbed his eyes. Impulse told him to punch his leg as hard as he could, but he fought it back, resisting the anger and the guilt.
“I saw Astrid do it. She killed that volunteer, Nicholas, right in front of me and Talia. I’ve killed people.
The security guard a couple of weeks ago, the sleptigrades this evening at Cardinal Row.
” The pressure in his chest was getting harder and harder to contain. He made a fist.
He started towards Elodie before Dylan stopped him. “Don’t. You didn’t know… I didn’t know.” She fought back tears, her voice tremulous and wet. “I had to kill three of them to get you back.”
Elodie crossed her arms. “I’m not without compassion, Isaak. Yes, dying in the Tapeworld will kill you IRL. Punching me will accomplish nothing.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
“I didn’t know how much you had seen. Astrid assured me all the gigs she had for you were unmanned, forgotten pockets in the Tapeworld.
I’ve been trying to find that place, to find out what Astrid has been doing, but she’s a difficult woman to pin down…
Look, we can still try to save your friend.
Would you be able to pinpoint where the warehouse is, based on the mirror version of London you saw in there? ”
The word “try” sent a shiver down Isaak’s spine. The woman either had a screw loose or she truly did not give a shit about them.
“What do you mean, try? Can’t you just use the lobster phone like before?”
“Answer the question.”
He paused, wracking his brain. “It’s near the river.” He thought back to when he looked out the windows in that other place. “No. Nothing.” He glanced at Dylan. “I’m sorry.”
“The Dalí device worked for you because your friend there pinpointed your location in the Tapeworld. We don’t know where Talia is. I can’t just strap her to the lobster and bring her back like that.”
Dylan stared daggers at Elodie. “Me and Isaak are more than friends.” She grabbed his hand possessively to make her point.
Elodie raised her hands. “I meant no harm.”
Dylan practically growled. “Can’t your hooligans just grab Astrid in the real world and force her to free Talia?”
“You’ve seen her bodyguard up close. She might be small fish to the Kingdom, but Crypterra’s security is still formidable.”
“It’s not looking good, is it? Talia’s trapped in there.” Sacha, his eyes washed in tears, stood and walked towards Isaak. “And it’s all your fault, you bastard.”
Dylan got between them. “Stop it, Sacha. You’re upset. We all are.”
Sacha glared past her at Isaak, fire in his eyes. “Better if you hadn’t showed up at my door, if you kept your word that you’d leave the Tapeworld alone.”
This was it, then. He’d been expecting Sacha to blow up like this.
“Yes, we both agreed to quit, and then I never did. ReSports and striding are the only two things I’ve ever been any good at, and I can’t do one of them anymore…
” His voice strained. “When I’m in the Tapeworld, I can forget about my fucking knee!
I can run again. I was never going to give that up.
I’m sorry, mate. I know how important Talia’s become to you.
There’s no excuse. I’m just… I’m sorry.” He poured himself out in a way he never had before.
Sacha wiped his forehead, cheeks reddening. “I…” He grew smaller, the bluster and anger fizzling out. His voice dimmed to a whisper. “I just want her back.”
Dylan had a look of resolve he’d seen before. “Talia’s in danger. Isaak may be to blame for many things, but both me and her made our own decisions to get involved in this. And now? Now we have to help her, not stand around arguing with each other!”
A feeling surged through him, the sensation growing in his chest. Confidence.
“Come on, Sacha.” He offered his hand.
Sacha shook it.
Elodie had been watching the argument unfold, a Cheshire smile on her lips.
Sensing calm returning to the room, she walked over to join them.
“Astrid transported Talia somewhere else, but we can start in Cardinal Row. If you want to save those people, we need to know where it is IRL. And the answer is inside your head.” She ran a hand through her puke-green closely shaved hair, fingers lingering and tapping on the nape of her neck.
“Since you can’t place it, I need to send you to Jeff. ”
“Jeff? Is that really—”
“Now, I know you don’t like him, but he’s got the hardware to have a bit of a poke in your head.
” The wide smile cutting across her face was worrying.
“From my research, browsing different tape-spaces leaves traces in the body. Chemicals that we can analyse, turn into images, information we can all use. You’ve heard about dream-visualisation hardware? This isn’t dissimilar.”
“These traces, could that be how the Sleeper works?” Dylan asked, the night-time neon glow reflecting in her wide eyes. “Overwhelming the user with junk?”
“Bingo.” Elodie brought the synthtube up to her mouth for a drag, then looked at Isaak and put it down, a slight redness to her cheeks. “I must resist l’appel du vide, uh? The Sleeper delivers a powerful cocktail to keep the mind trapped in the Tapeworld. I have to be truthful. I’m worried.”
“You’re worried?” Isaak said. “We’re the ones in this bitch’s crosshairs.”
Elodie got up and walked to the window, staring out at the city.
Vehicles, people, the shiny Bank district.
Then, further east, the carcass of Canary Wharf, its desolate bones only visible at night-time under the glow of the neon lights across the city.
Still, London persisted, despite all the shit thrown at it during the Dark Year. The city flat out refused to die.
“You’re only thinking about yourself and your merry band, Isaak. This is bigger than that. With those machines, she could cause quite the emmerdement.”
Isaak looked at her blankly.
“Massive pile of shit…” Dylan explained.
“Yes. For everyone in the Kingdom. Everyone is at risk. An army of slaves at her command… Just imagine.”
“And Talia?” Sacha asked, arms crossed.
“Jeff will help us find Cardinal Row’s location by looking inside Isaak’s head,” Elodie said.
“Then, we hit it with everything we have, both IRL and in the Tapeworld. We overwhelm Astrid and Crypterra, and use the Dalí device to awaken all those people. We don’t know where Talia is, but flushing out Astrid is our best chance of finding her. ”
“We can do it, guys.”
It was a line Isaak said often at London Lazarus scrums, but it was Dylan who said it now. She traded glances with him, an unspoken fear shared between them. They might not make it back, knowing what they knew now. Death in the Tapeworld equalled death in the real world…
There were so many more questions he wanted to ask Elodie, but time was slipping away from them.
“The sooner you go to Jeff, the better,” Elodie said.
“We don’t know how long it takes for the Sleeper to turn someone into a sleptigrade – it would seem to vary from person to person.
The volunteer from the demo tonight must have changed very quickly, unless he’d worn the device before.
But we have to strike a fine balance. I don’t want you going in immediately, tipping our hand and risking losing Talia and letting Astrid slip through our fingers.
You all look exhausted. Given the gravity of the situation, and the risk to all your lives, I suggest you rest up, then deal with any loose ends. ”
She gave a pointed look at Isaak and Dylan. He understood the implication. Just in case you don’t make it back.
The three of them exchanged looks.
Isaak took a deep breath, feeling a little numb. “We might die doing this.”
“At least you die together,” Sacha said. “Talia’s trapped in that hell-hole.”
A flash of the memory of Astrid torturing her made his insides twist. He held back on giving them any further description of what she was going through. It would just upset them even more. “We’re going to get her back.”
Dylan’s lips were set in a tight line. She nodded. “I hope you’re right.”
“I know we will.” Isaak offered his hand to Sacha in truce.
Sacha looked him in the eyes. His anger dissolved into resolve. He shook Isaak’s hand and pulled him into a hug.
“You have me, captain.”
It was another of their frequent London Lazarus sayings, and it warmed his heart to hear Sacha say it. He’d got his teammate back.
Yet guilt rode his gut like a surfboard.