qdesjardin

"Computer," Kristeva goes, "retrieve exhibit 108-9C."

You've never set foot in here before.. you watch from behind glass by Raul's side – while the gigantic precipice Kristeva stands over is a pale chasm of prisms, each varying in a psychedelic radiance. This is the vault, where artifacts and tidbits linger in stasis. Sometimes for centuries.

The retrieval arm, it whooshes down, descending fathoms before linking with the right inode holding the metadata of your collection.

Kristeva turns her attention on the matter synthesizer, which is a flat platter. A holographic image of 108-9C's contents is beside it. She raises her hand on the platter's controls, before her fingers extend into hydra-like appendages, worming an automated sequence for the command interpreter..

"Attention!" It's Romdeau's city-wide alert systems. "There will be an impending blackout by the Intelligence Bureau. Power will resume momentarily.."

The lights drain, and you're left in awe as the platter erupts into a cacophony of light, electricity jolting and forming outlines of things you've known. Raul shields his eyes, while your vision is left stunned by inverse afterimages.

Finally, everything hums back into life, as you just now see your items intact (with smoke simmering on top). So, that explains the occasional blackouts – not because nobody has bothered fixing the power grid by Intelligence, but because it takes an exorbitant power to re-create matter out of data..

Kristeva brings the platter out into the hall with you two. The vault doors hiss shut behind her, with an emphatic air-tight whine.

"This virtual world," Raul says. "This theme park, made by a proxy to keep the minds of everyone occupied.."

He's more amused by the idea than anything, while you sift through your belongings, finding the neural patches. "If we've ever needed more proof that we cannot just leave ourselves resigned to their whims, we needn't look any further. Being caught in an endless dream, never to see the real sky, it's.. suffocating, to say the least."

Finding a nearby bench, you have Raul sit.

"So," he goes, "what does it take to meet this Proxy of Dreams?"

"All in good time."

The patches attach to his temples, and he make a little wince. Then he glances at you, a look of ever-mounting apprehension in his eyes as he's just realising how he's now in your hands – about to take the first step into your private world.

"It's bonding with your temporal lobes," you go, not hiding your excitement. "Give it a second."

It's technology Tetiana helped you engineer, giving you the schematics of interfacing with her worlds from miles away. You've almost forgotten just how the first surge was like, as you felt disoriented – transitioning from laying down, to being right in the midst of a music festival. Your attraction began with reading the libretto of the opera singer you were about to witness.. it blossomed, hearing her soothing voice as she stood solo on the summer's stage.

Ultimately it turned into love when you had to share this dream. And all the possible joys it held, with Lil.

This is what you're hoping Raul will know..

"What you do now," you say, "is you close your eyes. Relax. It's just like the transition between soberity and drunkenness.. it'll come.."

Raul does just that. Then the most vital question pops into his head, all too late..

"Wait, how do I leave when-"

He looks at you, and the light fades out of his eyes as they roll up, into a series of violent REM seizures. You've never seen what the process is like from the outside, and now you know.

His body relaxes. Shoulders, arms, legs.. he seems to sink into the wall, and you glance at him for a moment while Kristeva evaluates his condition. He's not going to feel a thing in the real world, so you pose him nicely on the bench, such that it looks like he went for an opportune nap.

"Daedalus," Kristeva says.

His entourage seems to lock eyes on you, as you just now realise what you've really done. Is she going to place a security alert?

"I'm.. terribly sorry about what Raul did to you earlier," Kristeva tells you. "Normally, it's not my place to contradict him while he's around. But he's grown dangerously out of line for being director of the Security Bureau.."

You're surprised. An autoreiv, showing sympathy for you. "You're not saying you hate him, do you?"

"No. I am duty-bound to serve the Director and his wishes, however much how my initial programming may contradict his will. Recently – since the loss of his wife and daughter, I've witnessed his erratic tendencies brim to the forefront. As if a fantasised self which he's kept hidden, even from himself, is replacing what little rationality he has left.."

She says this with all the certainty of an accountant. "I find it fascinating, really. People have dreams. Imagination. Those mental faculties which are usually denied us. And already, from Raul, I am reminded of the worst of humanity. Rashness.. cruelty.. fanaticism.. the desiring for what is beyond impossible.. the willingness to risk a stable order for all, even if it means sacrificing the well-being of those around him."

If only Kristeva has lungs, she'd sigh with the heaviness of a poet, confiding secrets to someone she'd least expect.

"Kristeva," you go, reaching out to her. "I can't imagine.. I never intended on trapping Raul in there."

"You were eager to show him Zaporizhzhia," she says. "That, I can understand. If I only could join Raul also – I'd really like to know what it's like to live life as a person, flesh-and-blood. The environment you were in.. it emulates sensations, yes?"

You nod, recognizing her curiosity before recalling how she's seen you in lovemaking with Lil. You can't help but smile awkwardly, while furtively breaking free from her eyes.

".. I have to get Lil and Vincent," you say. "They're trapped in that same dream that Raul's in."

"What's so bad about that dream?" Kristeva asks, with a child-like curiosity. "What were you doing in there before?"

"I was-"

You let out a gulp, hesitant over those self-indulgent, pornographic moments you've had with Lil. But it's Kristeva.. at this point, what's the harm in letting her in on your bottled-up fantasies, of all people?

"I made love with the regent's daughter," you go, as your body sort of pivots away from her, arms shuddering, the blood tentatively rushing to your penis again. "I shouldn't have. It just didn't feel fair that she'd stop loving me like that, like I'd unwittingly passed through a one-way gate in her heart.. an exit out that paradise that I'll never return to.."

"Oh."

You stare at each other in a limbo, a pregnant pause where you'd expect her to unleash a barrage of outraged condemnation in your face, as anyone else would. Some of your thoughts hover over the anthropology you've absorbed, and you realise that Life is unremittingly brutal, especially when it comes to courtship – on the fairest joys, there's always thorns looking to barricade, denying the weak and undesirable the right.. no, the luxury of reproducing; for every star that's shone brightly in history, there's a million who resign themselves to an eternal obscurity.

Animals don't possess that self-consciousness - the impending awareness of their frailty, mortality, eventual death.. and that of their loved ones – people do.

"Unlike Raul," you go, pointing out how chill he looks, "they're hard-wired to that system against their will. Every second which passes, Tetiana is siphoning life out their bodies. I don't know.. how much longer they've got -"

You begin to shiver in front of her, possessing all the familiar despondency of seeing Lil in that medical pod, so weak from a hopeless disease. Then she rests a hand over your neck.

"There is the royal hovercraft," Kristeva goes. "We normally reserve it when Donov needs to serve as Romdeau's emissary.. I'm calculating the distance to Zaporizhzhia."

Her eyes flutter. "At 1,894 km, it'll take five hours to arrive under optimal conditions. I presume you want to bring them back home?"

You nod.

"I'll order enough provisions to last for two days. There'll be hibernation chambers if they need dire medical assistance-"

"My FP bullets too," you go, as you tremble over facing Tetiana.

"A word of caution: the ship's engines are not well-insulated from radiation storms. We were flying home from Londo, and our instrumentation suffered multiple soft errors – not even the autopilot will save you from being frozen for hours on end; the marauders are always on the hunt for straggling travellers.. you must fly manually. Avoid signs of mutara particles at all costs. Here, you'll need this-"

She hands you your lanyard from the platter, and you notice her eyes are a little bloodshot. She's infected with the cogito virus..

You're about to head off, when you look back at her. "Kristeva.."

"Go! Don't linger here. At any rate, I must look after my Raul.."

Your footsteps echo in the halls, as you run, approaching the sunny light at the end. Your lungs burn, and your chest quakes. If only you could bring yourself to thank her, for giving you hope enough to carry forth.

If only.. you'd realise how much terror Raul would inflict in that dream, seeing his eyes almost gouging his eyelids out.

There's no more time to look back, anymore.

There's only the next step. And the next..

The ship awakens to your presence, as its interior lights slowly brighten like candlelights and you feel yourself lost in the rococo of the delicately-crafted furniture. A bed that's fit for a king, with silk comforters and curtains.. it isn't what you've expected. It's far from the sleek aesthetic of the offices you're used to.

There's a musty air of spice and incense, as you remember that Donov once liked to smoke heavily. It stings your lungs, and you want to cough..

It was startlingly easy to get to this ship. When you met with border customs, you feared they'd raise an alarm from your arrest record. But Kristeva had forged an acquittal on your behalf, and thinking on your feet, you told them you were merely going on a research expedition.

"How long will you be out for?"

"A day, maximum."

"A day for researching fault lines in the geography? Daedalus, say whatever we want about you, you're helluva dedicated to science – just be careful. We've had reports of an Eastern snowfreeze blowing in hard from the Adriatic dunes.."

The ship itself – a sleek and angled figure lying in shadow - was guarded by autoreivs, waiting like statues by the dock. You didn't know how you were going to make it past them, until you stepped forth and they confused you with Donov himself, bowing down and hailing the departure of the dome's regent.

What's remarkable about the craft is how antiquated it is, passed down from the Carolingian era when WombSys produced polymaths to advance technology and lay down infrastructure. You've only read about it, until now..

You stumble forth to the open cockpit, without the protection of a canopy. It's a two-seater - and already, you hear the alerted shouts of the human guards, coming from the dock..

Startled, your hands soon find the ignition control lever. A metallic pump between the seats which you twist around, then depress into position.

A giant cloth parachutes outward from the sides, before it's pulled taut over the cockpit, enveloping you in darkness.

You only hear your breaths, trembling amidst the backdrop of a faint hiss, before the actual cockpit controls emerge – luminescent switches on the dashboard:


check flit control
fuel flow verification
life support
engine buffer diagnosis
secondary services

Starting this beast up is not as straightforward as it is in modern crafts. You flick the switches on in order (each with a noticeable resistance to your fingers that gives in to a loud "thud"), one at a time:


Computer Flit control .. OK!
Fuel flow injection and processing .. 79% optimal
Life support systems .. OK! (O2 current capacity: 350L – estimated depletion time: 5.83 days)
Power generation from engines .. OK!
Secondary services .. enabling autopilot, cartography, communications – OK!

The craft hums, and you feel lifted up in the seat as if in an elevator. Then you see the holographic view of the outside world fizzle in, projected upon the cloth canopy..

The dock's hatch slides open, as the guards have surrounded you, standing on the piers with their rifles, supported by flying drones.

A heartbeat later -

They fire upon you, the gunfire muted and distorted as if outside your protective bubble. You only inch the stick forward – and the craft accelerates with such gravitas, that you're pushed against the seat.

You fly past the shanties built outside the dome. In a matter of seconds, the last traces of Romdeau and civilization are left behind..

And in the vast wilderness of this polluted planet, with an endless reservoir of darkness waiting ahead of you, you fly alone, guided only by that diminishing hope of ever finding her alive.

To let her know that out of all the things in this world, your love for her is real.

It has been a strenuous, humiliating ordeal – the way Raul ripped your badge lanyard from your uniform and stripped you of all authority. The way you wanted to clutch at your heart when the security bureau tore through your home, your offices.. like rabid animals hungering for flesh. (Hell, they flipped your couch upside down.) All the log entries of every little thing you've done, laid bare for Raul to scrutinize.

Now you are nobody. No one – nothing.

Only a piece of meat, waiting in the cells while they're debating how best to dispose of you and find your replacement. The harsh lighting, casting no shadow anywhere – it never ends..

Why is each passing second a torment? It's not from want of sleep, though you feel your temples aching.. your brain chafing as if someone is slowly stuffing chili power into your skull. Your thoughts flitter on the way you've longed for her, or that you were this close to selling your love out for the selfish pursuit of your own tranquility. That you've failed your duties as the dome's medical officer – and now, because of you..

Lil and Vincent are going to suffer forever at the hands of the proxy who heard your longings – who, out of anyone, most understood your heart..

"Aaa-AGGHHH!"

The bed is a slab – as solid and dense as your closed-up fist will get to know. It really hurts, and you end up slicing open your palm on the bed's sharp edge. The blood spills out, painting the cell with drabs of red. It's a brief moment of catharsis – you almost adore how red your own blood is. Rich with oxygen, blood-type 'O+'.

As it turns out, the alarm blares, and the guards wrap you tightly in a straitjacket while the autoreivs wipe away the traces you've left in the cell, their movements mechanical and efficient. Just like how a fellow citizen should be. If only the WombSys hadn't cursed you with this mind, trapped in the confines of a flawed human soul – if you were born as someone else.. life right now wouldn't be a torment. Would it?

Your hand is starting to itch..

"Daedalus," Raul says, summoning you to his office. You've been wheeled over – your limbs clasped to the wheelchair. On the way, a pale reflection of yourself: your hair has grown out. There's stubble over your chin. You no longer resemble the youthful scientist, holding yourself in high regard. Instead, a scruffy outcast, who looks back upon you.

The leers you've received from others, while the auto-reiv wheeled you out from the car.. an subject of disgust.

"Daedalus, are you listening?" Raul asks you. It takes a moment to really focus on his eyes, as you're filled to the brim with shame. "I think I'll have Kristeva get you a cup of coffee.. Kristeva!"

As she hands you the cup, Raul asks: "Do you take cream? Sugar?"

You think for a moment, observing the staccato-like ripples of the coffee's surface. The rustic scent of the steaming drink throws you back to when Lil shared her jasmine tea with you in the courtyard.. the reason it'd tasted just right in its sweetness – Lil said that white sugar leaves a bad aftertaste, like you're tasting your own spit long past the sweetness.

Instead, it's honey which is the secret..

"Kristeva – give our man a pinch of honey!" Raul whistles to his autoreiv, waving his fingers like a lasso before culminating in a snap. "You're also a man of fine taste, Daedalus. I like that." He bites his tongue, holding back a pointed remark about Lil.

You're not allowed out of the restraints, so it's Kristeva who holds the cup by your mouth, and you sip it.. it goes down smoother than one of Raul's liqueurs (when he personally toasted to your career).

"Oh-hhh," you moan, tasting your first real respite from purgatory. "This is good.."

"Cool, isn't it?" Raul glees, deriving pleasure out of watching you. Countless hours, he's spent getting Kristeva's drink-concocting skills honed. "You can have all the coffee you want, Daedalus, it's not going to change the fact.."

Raul rests his hand on your shoulder, playfully squeezing it. You wince – he grins, knowing you can do nothing. If only these restraints aren't holding you back, you'll happily grab the cup from Kristeva's grasp and smash his smug fucking button-nosed face in, with the same intensity of his inexplicable attraction to you. One of the great mysteries of life you ask in private is whether Raul enjoys being aroused by pain.

"You are continuing to leave the entire medical office, the regent, and really everyone – disappointed."

Disappointed. The word echoes in your hollowed-out chest. For an instant, you ask yourself if this whole thing is your retaliation for how your own underused heart is left.. disappointed.

"In case you feel like asking," Raul goes, "we combed through your records. With your history of exemplary service and breakthrough medical science.. there is no better way to put it: you are a living paradox, indeed. On the one hand – the brilliant brain you lovingly hold."

He caresses your skull, and you wince away as best as you can from his touches. Then he holds your head in his arm with a vice grip, the pressure squeezing, as if saying: Don't fight me, Daedalus. I am your master.. and every futile thing you do to resist is only exciting me.

"I'd ask Kristeva who would best exemplify humanity's inventive spirit-" Raul says, his breath spilling over to your ear. "She spoke of Da Vinci, Nikola Tesla, and I'd retort with Oppenheimer and Niemann.. it's the pursuit of destruction, of crushing all your enemies into pulp which is the only true impulse we've followed in history. Just like how you're struggling against my restraints, people have struggled against being subjugated – at the mercy of unfair rulers, by and by.

"Yes.. you want to kill me. I can feel the hate swelling in you..

"To give you credit, the FP rounds you've produced is about the best we have so far in reclaiming our destiny from the proxies. Ergo Proxy, Monad.. they think they can rule over us all with their powers – but we don't need them! Not anymore!"

Raul puts an FP bullet on the table. The blue gelatin fluctuates with a barely contained energy, as if ripe to ignite chaos in a single touch.

"By the time Vincent arrives home.. if he ever does, he will learn to obey – or else we shove this up his ass, and he'll endure the same mortality we've had to face our entire existence!"

You see the maniacal glee.. that harsh twinkle in his eyes. What you've gone out of your way to invent to protect Lil, Raul now twirls amidst his fingers – caressing the cartridge case, perverting your invention to his aim. It's a shame though: you're at a loss to explain how without the proxies, all of Romdeau and life would be good as gone.

"Before we get carried away, let's not forget how you've lusted after the regent's sole daughter.."

Your eyes narrow over the mention of Lil, dreading it. Suddenly the coffee tastes like bile in your stomach, and you urge to vomit it out..

"Don't," you whisper.

"Ahh, the one pressure point I can count on, your neediness. Isn't that right?" Raul picks at that gaping wound with a knife. "Daedalus.. Lil's secret admirer! It's like in those romance serials broadcast to the ladies; a perpetually hopeless fifth wheel in a love triangle. Shall I read one of your unsent love letters to her -"

He scrolls through the terminal, picking a file. "Oh, Lil," he goes, his eyes mirthless. "My unwitting, darling angel. The least that I've wanted is to find a chance to redeem myself to you. Loving you from afar is a burden – nay, an agony I must bear each day, in silence, as we go on talking behind the veil of professionalism."

".. shut up, shutup SHUT UP!" you scream.

"I am sorry about how I am-" Raul speaks above you, "my body, my face.. my irredeemably awkward and shy personality. I'd wish a hundredfold that I was a better man, a stronger and more assertive man in every respect, so that I could naturally enrapt your attention as you did mine. But it's a dream that's proven to be more impossible than finding the cure for your terminal condition.

"I'm sorry how I've grown to adore you above everyone else, as my mind internalizes every perfect detail about your being.. and that the only conclusion to draw is that you are either descended from the heavens, or that fate has been so kind with WombSys as to grant the regent.. a daughter who is worthy of a king- oh, Daedalus, stop it please, this is making my heart blush, you should have been a ghostwriter!"

He is perverting your words also.. what you've written in a solemn privacy. It's enough to make your mouth frothe; some of the coffee drips out from your lips, which Kristeva is kind enough to wipe.

"Lil – when I touch myself, imagining your caresses, the bliss I'd feel is oh, so indescribable .."

That's when you fight hard in the wheelchair, the springs squeaking while you struggle like a caged animal. Raul glances up at you, running a wicked smile, and he walks over.

"Kristeva," he says, "let this part be off the record."

"Understood."

Raul crosses past his table, his eyes intent on yours. That glimmer you initially mistook for malice, it is blossoming now into full-blown desire.

It frightens you.

"Daedalus," he says, as he kneels by your side, "I won't hide this from you any longer. I've.. held feelings for you also. You baffle me.. you, being one of the best and brightest Romdeau has produced.. and you want to toss all that away for her? Out of all people?"

".. especially you?" you go.

Raul's eyes widen. "My, Daedalus, you catch on so quick. That's what I adore about you.."

His finger brushes over the bristles of your chin, before his hands dive upon your body – sliding under your straitjacket to feel the skin of your chest. Searching for your areolae and nipples, and upon finding them, he rubs.. his hands are surprisingly soft, warm. An electricity to his touch that is undeniable.

"How long.." you sputter.

"How long have I loved you? At first, I tried brushing off those feelings as just respect for a colleague. You were always so reserved, and I asked what it is.. what secrets lay behind your pretty brown eyes. When my wife.. died.."

Raul tears up, the flashbacks of her abrupt death still painful. "I was at a loss. Who could I love after, when my heart's light faded away? Or so I thought, until one day.. I found you in the royal courtyard. You were alone, an angelic serenity over your face. That day.. I offered you a drink.."

It was liqueur – meant to brighten your spirits. The concentrated intensity of the alcohol was too much for your tongue to handle, but like a lost virginity, you was eventually able to discern the taste; the sweet grapefruit, the oak which it had been fermented in..

"It tasted like nothing I've ever had before," you huskily say.

"You dreamt of kissing Lil again – a liqueur unfurls like a kiss. It's a shame.. the passion you're saving for her, you will never willingly show me. The only thing left, for both our sakes, to say goodbye. It's off to the recycler for you-"

"Wait—"

Raul looks down at you, having a tense grip upon the wheelchair's handle. "What?"

You gulp – fearing the disgust you'll have to endure for survival's sake.

"Don't make me leave you, Raul.."

You lean in, beckoning him to come hither to your lips, as a single tear escapes your eye.

His mouth slowly meets yours in ragged breaths. As you kiss him, your tongues sliding over one another, you try your best to imagine that it's Lil.. as if she'd taken a couple swigs already. Your hesitancy soon melts away into compassion, as you give in to meeting Raul's heart straight on.

When he draws away from you, his eyes slowly flutter open. "Why did it take so long for this moment.. to happen..?"

Kristeva stares at the both of you; her eyes blank without comprehending.

"Why should that even matter?" you go. As you feel the heat, how it radiates off your face, you start to realise how much sweat you are expending.. how the chronic aching and itching has gone away. "This little time we have together, Raul, it's made for you and I.. please, untie me. It'll be awkward otherwise if we do end up going.. all the way.."

A beat – Raul's hand hesitates over your thigh. You can feel your erection uncomfortably pressing against the fabric; you arch yourself up to him like a willing model in front of the camera.

You want him to notice it.

Nothing escapes those eyes which are enrapt by desire. As if petting a cat to calmness, Raul strokes your bulge, and the muffled sensation offers tremors, surging from your legs up through your spine – you groan..

"Daedalus!" he exclaims. There's a raspy gait to his exhales which you recognize in yourself. "You're.. amazing.."

The sweat is collating where the wheelchair's clamps hold you steady. "Raul, do you want to know just what it's like, having me hold you in my arms? Let me out of this chair, and I'll give you what you've only dreamt of in those lonely nights." Your pleading is as sincere as you can muster.

He looks you in the eye. His other hand strokes your oily, unkempt hair.

"Never. You're perfect where you are."

Raul reaches under. It's as much of a violation as you've feared, and then some. He gropes and each squeeze renders you as much of a victim of sexuality as his control.

"Raul-!" you go. "S-stop!"

Your protests are interrupted in a kiss, as Raul holds you close and you jerk your hapless body in a sporadic intensity.. the wheelchair rattles, moans trapped in privacy, and the orgasm, like precious amber sap out of a tree you frequent in moonlight, is verging near.

All you can do to preserve your last shreds of dignity is pretend it's her – anything so long as your intimate cries aren't.. with him..

Instead of post-coital warmth, you are flooded with chills.

"Daedalus," Raul says, rummaging his drink cabinet. "As long as you'll love me, you shall remain at your post." He pours two glasses, the red drink swirling under the amber-lit room. As he turns towards you, his lapel still has some residue on it.. "Everything will be normal again. That's how we solve problems.. both yours and mine."

Kristeva has un-done the binder on your right arm. You struggle to hold the glass steady.

"Salute!" he goes, and he downs the wine – his glass raised to the ceiling. With no other recourse, you take his drink and sip it also, ever so lovingly. It's good enough to make you want to hold back the bile.

".. salute," you half-heartedly whisper.

Raul wheels you to the balcony to greet the night. You feel the crisp wind, a brisk air-conditioned product of Romdeau that barely replicates the actual feeling from Tetiana's worlds. It's a nostalgia for a past that's never really existed.

"Romdeau," Raul says, leaning over. "We're like an anthive, despite all our intelligence. Everyone fills out their little niche, everyone lives out their happy, ignorant lives with the autoreivs, and that's how it'll go. It's the ones who can bear knowing the horrible truth about our existence – people like me and you – who deserve to wear the mantle of Godhood. To prove to all the eons that we'll rightfully helm our destiny."

The wind brushes by his hair. "You understand me well, right?"

A beat.

"Daedalus?"

"It's a dangerous game," you go, still clutching the empty glass. "You're not talking about just us; it's about everyone's survival. By enslaving proxies.. those beings we're not even close to understanding, you're presuming that we'll all become masters of the world again."

Raul does a spit-take. "Without presumption, we'd still be left in the Stone Age, my boy! We don't need to understand them to know that proxies, like any other, balk in fear for their own lives; you've seen that in Monad already. There's us, and there's them. And we'll get them to make the rest of this wretched planet habitable.. and us, free of this curse of reproductive sterility.."

"If you've studied history," you say, "you'll know slaves eventually steal the whip from their masters."

"Yes," Raul says. "You didn't let me finish my sentence. When our demands are met.. we'll wipe the proxies out, every single last of them out of their fucking misery – and then we'll be totally free.. no slaves, no masters. No more resentments, no more living like caged animals in this goddamned zoo! Our freedom! Won't you taste it with me, Daedalus?"

He rips the glass out of your reluctant hand, and tosses it out into the air – where you watch it whirl down like a skydiver in freefall..

"Oh, not to worry," he says, gleeing. "I'll have Kristeva synthesize me another one- first, we need to put you back to work, first thing-"

Your eyes dart, recalling the freedom of Tetiana's compassion. And past that, the sheer desperation of Lil and Vincent's entrapment, their lives far past anything resembling control. "Raul, I'll do anything that you ask. But let me show you something first.. in case you're still curious about what I've been really doing, before my arrest."

"Before you do," he goes, his hand over your arm, "do you think I should trust you?"

You gaze at him, mustering that same serenity which Tetiana has willingly shared with you. "We're lovers now, Raul. What are you even asking."

Silence. Before he heartedly laughs.

"Of course."

It only dawns on Lil, as she witnesses the ultrasound on the hospital monitor, the staticy blob which has an eye, that she is going to be a mother. Earlier, she's been vomiting at home, with a queasiness that she's never experienced before.

"It's a her," the technician goes.

"Vincent.." she says - he stands beside her laying on the bed, his eyes tearing up while he clasps her hand. "She's already beautiful.."

For the past months, Vincent has been setting up a new life for Lil's sake. For their child's sake. Running away to a southern tropical town, all the prize money, and the money he's embezzled from Antonioni – it's gone towards a house that overlooks the sea. The home they've bought; Vincent has been able to get for cheap because it's been abandoned for the longest time.

The floorboards are worn, the wallpaper tearing. But with a bit of elbow grease, Vincent is able to refit the home to a pristine state – Lil spending hours agonizing over the right shade of purple for her room..

And every day, it's a joy. Under the blue skies, the people here – although they speak mainly in Spanish, they're so friendly, and so very supportive of them. When they've caught the news of their pregnancy, they are showered with gifts: a crib, a doll collection, a set of nursery books..

And every night, Lil clasps her dear Vincent by her side when she sleeps. Her dreams run wild with fantasies of spending happy moments with her daughter – she'll name her Pino.

In the mornings, she writes in a journal about her latest dreams. One of which is riding amidst the horses across the valleys – by the time Pino's here, she'll never miss the chance to regret leaving Pino without the best memories. What excites her, besides revealing her inner, private thoughts with Vincent's acceptance, is that she just knows it'll come true, a hundred times over, a re-assuring blanket which bridges over the skies to the stars.

"Vincent.." she says, wistfully, one night in the fields as they see the streaks in the sky. "Will you take me to see the moon.. and Mars?"

"I will." His palm is feeling how her heart beats, sliding down to the fertile swelling of her belly. "If not tomorrow, then someday."

On the cutting board, Lil slices beef – preparing a juicy dinner; Vincent has spent the whole day fashioning a workshop when she begins to feel the contractions.

"Ohh-hhh—"

The knife clatters, falling to the ground, as Lil keels over, feeling the water spill out between her legs. Vincent's outside – even though he has the buzzsaw on, slicing through 9x4s, he senses Lil's cries.

"Lil.. Lil!" he goes, running to find her laying, clutching her belly. Her face is contorted with an immensely splitting pain, so he musters all his might to carry her up.

The drive to the hospital is marked by looming clouds, threatening to form a tornado amidst the hills. Dust crackles over the windshield, and Vincent turns the wipers on – hoping to see the road ahead.

Hoping for deliverance.

Although Vincent wouldn't call himself religious – he'd met the grey-haired pastor of Our Lady of the Immaculate Lake, who spews out sermons about accepting life's turns with an open-hearted spirit. Even if our Lady seems like at best an abstract concept, she'll listen to your prayers in times of trouble, for sinners and non-believers alike.

The energy from the church is unbelievable, with choir singers praising the Lady's faith to the tune of flamenco dance. It's an entertaining watch, but what caught Vincent was the pastor's particular interest in him, and Lil's pregnancy..

In private, as everyone congretates after the sermon -

"Praise the Lady!" the pastor Julius went. "She's blessed you with this upcoming child! I just know you'll be starting a wonderful family.. it's another darling light, shining in our community."

Vincent smiles. "You make me feel right at home, already."

"Everyone's been talking about it. The talk is unavoidable, even if I plugged bananas up my ears. Might I offer you a little prayer, for your daughter's sake?"

Vincent finds a respite in that memory. Julius is so earnest, and very eager to please – his energy's infectious.

As a train stops his way, Vincent repeats that little prayer - Lil wipes the Jaeguar's windows with her feet as she feels her uterus contracting some more, her cries for respite unbearable to hear.

They arrive; it doesn't take long for the hospital to accept the pregnant patient. In fact, it's as if the staff have already expected their arrival..

"Please! I have to be there!" Vincent shouts. The hospital staff lift Lil onto a stretcher, while she reaches out for him – an outstretched hand, missing his.

"No."

The big nurse stops him from following Lil into the halls.

"Nonsense!" Vincent goes, trying to slide his way past her. "I promised I'd be there when Pino's born!"

"But you are here already. Tranquilo.."

The nurse shoves Vincent down to one of the waiting seats, with an effortless strength. He hears Lil's cries growing dimmer, and tries getting up; the nurse easily keeps him down by the shoulders.

"Are you going to let me see them when it's over?" Vincent asks, with baited breath. "Lil and Pino?"

"You just have to wait," the nurse goes. "Giving birth isn't as simple as holding your loved one through to the end. There's sterilization, placenta disposal.."

"Really?"

When it comes down to it, Vincent is clueless about how a woman's body is. He's never had sexual education – only that it just feels good, as she's able to bring down the barriers he's erected around his soul to experience the vulnerability and tenderness of loving her.

"Oh, yes," the nurse goes, as she holds his hands, examining them, brushing some residual sawdust off. "These hands.. they're so roughened.. you've done a lot of things with them. Wait. You are Vincent Law, aren't you? The poker player?"

"Formerly one. I've won enough prizes for a while.."

"That's why you look so familiar. I see some of your games on television, during the night shifts – you play soo bueno..ah, si, this reminds me. I need you to fill out this sheet."

Vincent fills out the complicated mumbo-jumbo, which basically asks for his legal information. By the part which asks their relationship status, Vincent realises he hasn't even thought of wedding her yet, after all these months. Isn't loving her enough? If he attends the church and asks to officialy join them in holy matrimony, the gospel dancers can throw fabulous moves for their sake.

He puts down 'common partner.'

"Muoy bien," the nurse says, as she takes the form. Then someone radios to her in the romance language which Vincent has yet to grasp (besides bits and pieces: i.e. chinga tu madre). "Vincent, your daughter Pino, she's just waiting for you.."

Argounova shows Daedalus the seer's observation abilities – this panoramic sphere which charts everyone in her realms. The sensations of many people breeze by in the hazy clouds: voices, actions, varying emotions and shades of colour, all congealing together in vortical harmony, while she and Daedalus are a focal point of the storm.

For her, it's a ripe moment. In her lifetime, she's only let one other venture in this place of intimate voyeurism, early on. That almost killed her; the man rushed to place his family ahead into riches and nigh-immortality, and spread misfortune over the people he disliked.. the result was plunging 70% of the population into psychosis. Years of reversing the damage wasn't fun.

The difference with Daedalus, although he's a flawed boy with an unrequited obsession over Lil, is that she knows his weakness.. for now, he'll have read-only access.

"It's.. I can't make sense of it," Daedalus goes, as his eyes psychotically dart fro and to. "It's too much. It's like my focus is pulled upon a thousand things, and it's slipping past what I can comprehend. Where do I even begin?"

Tetiana ponders – even with his tier of intelligence, she knows he doesn't have her processing ability, at least not yet. He is a formerly blind boy who could now see, so this'll take time. Soon, he'll accompany her in making her world more lively.

It doesn't mean she can't lend him a shoulder up in the process, though. She rests her fingers over his skull, offering him some of her mental composure.

"When you were in the school halls," she goes, "how were you able to pick Lil out from the other girls?"

"I.. see her." Daedalus shivers from the way Tetiana lifts the example from his earlier days. It's hard to deny the lopsided intimacy: she knows him, but he still doesn't know much about her.

"And when you see her, it's because she is not everyone else.."

Daedalus peers at the tenuous panorama. He is beginning to recognize how the swirling chaos possesses an order. Whatever he sets his attention upon, the seer answers to his desire in kind. With faith in that, he closes his eyes.

Vividly picturing when he was lucky enough to have kissed her. Her face.. how it feels to comprehend Lil in his awareness. His heart swirls with the innocence of those times; the seer is gliding past landscapes now, past oceans and dancing stars and whirling comets – he is narrowing upon a coastal town -

(is this where you are, Lil)

(she's giving birth)

(you ungrateful cunt)

And with delight, the jealousy also comes like a familiar venomous bite; the aching after tasting deliciously poisoned honey. The pain re-surging again in his heart, as if in anticipation of what he's going to see. Daedalus keels over, his arms clasping at his chest while stormy, demonic clouds form in on the town, from the edges..

"I can't bring myself to look upon her," he goes, tearing up. "Even from this distance, I can already feel her childbirth pain. Vincent's hope and anxiety, the life they'll be cherishing.. he's driving her to the hospital, isn't he?"

She nods. "You're getting a knack for this."

The seer is paralyzed, hovering over the singular vision of the Jaeguar – a train that interrupts its way on the road.

Daedalus reels from his bout of shameful yearning, too used to hiding his emotions. If he'd ended up crying while on medical duty, he'd be sent over to the psychologist, where his frailties would inevitably be laid bare before review (well, it's already happening). But in her world, when he's around Tetiana, an acceptance he'll never have in reality – yet he knows Romdeau's Security Bureau will soon strip away his connection to the dome.. and it'll be over.

His precious few moments of being alive, chasing after a dream.

"It's pathetic, isn't it?" he whispers. "I'm trapped in my obsession with a woman who, in reality, wouldn't give me the time of day. Anyone else would have moved on." He scoffs, drawing upon his scientific rationality which is supposedly deaf to emotion. "So you toss them away.. just like they did to you – that's what a model citizen does. That's how I'll let go.. I must not love her anymore."

He slumps like a shriveled flower, rooted in a place barren of sunlight.

"Tetiana," he goes, with a desperation leeching out from his voice. "I'm not any better than those countless lovers you've seen over the years.. please, help me take this pain away, for once. You can change memories at will - I don't want to remember her anymore!"

She kneels down by him. "No, I won't do that."

"Why?! How could you give Lil and Vincent their happiness, but not me?"

"They may look happy to you, but it's merely simulacra that keeps the nervous system pre-occupied in the end. An illusion – surely you haven't forgotten that?" She is sardonic.

".. even a good stage play still makes people cry in the end," Daedalus says.

A faint smile crosses her lips.

"In your case, you're asking me to wipe out a person's entire existance from memory so you can be happy again. But it's beneath you, Daedalus. How weak-spirited must you be to let go of her, just like that, when your devotion is tested – when once, you went all the way to save the woman you've loved from death.

"Without her – without love,for the rest of your days, you'll slave away as a cog for a society which cares only what you can do for it. Your inner life.. forever glossed over, while your God-given soul is left to rot, slowly and inevitably within your mortal shell.. there awaits your happiness, Daedalus. Okay?"

She is offering with her outstretched hand. Mist emerges around her fingers – he tentatively goes for it, before cowering away.

"I.. God!" he cries, realising what he's going to surrender. "I can't do it.."

"You little fool."

Daedalus looks at the sphere – at Lil who is laying on the hospital bed, surrounded by doctors, screaming and unrecognizable from the sweat and pain of childbirth. There had been a wall; a glass wall that's kept her separated from him these last few years, and now he gets to look at her from the one-way mirror. The apotheosis of how he's felt.

"I want to be able to see her live happily," he whispers. "Let me love her once more.. like how I did, when my heart wasn't tarnished by weariness."

In the sphere, Tetiana has found a kindred spirit at last.

As Lil makes one final push, the baby's cries echo out in the ward, and she feels all the tension she's held in her belly finally giving way – to relief, to euphoric joy.

"I want to hold her.." she says, as the doctor cuts the umbilical cord.

When little Pino is in her embrace, Lil looks upon the beautiful face who is at her breast and she rocks the baby to and fro, her eyes tearing up.

Daedalus feels his heart pouring through all those walls he's put up, the sinews of feigned indifference breaking apart – until he's crying also with Lil. If he's there with her, he'd protect her happiness always like an angel lurking in the shadows. His heart is still caving in..

The doctors begin to kneel.

"Wait.." Daedalus goes. "What's happening.. why are they kneeling."

"Watch."

The pastor Julius bursts into the ward, with his bishops. He sees Lil with the child, and knows that the holy event that he's long been waiting for – it has now come to pass. "It's.. a miracle.. Pino, our saviour is born!"

"Hail, Pino!"

Lil looks around confusedly. "What-? I don't-"

"You've carried the child to term," Julius says, attending by her side, "but we didn't tell you out of fear you'd panic and do something rash. Our bible proclaims that a saviour, borne out of unexpected passion, would come from a couple who'd wander into our town, looking for sanctuary.. let me anoint her, please."

Lil shakes her head, pulling Pino away from the eager Julius. "She's not yours. She's mine and Vincent's. I never asked to be part of your religious folktale."

The bishops murmur into Julius's ear, and he smiles with an undeterred delight. "Nobody ever asks to be born, let alone be a part of the grand tapestry life weaves. But we will never mean your family any harm. If there's anything you need – if your child is wanting or hungry, we will be there to provide.. only please.. let us come adore her, with you."

Lil sees the bishops, in their violet robes, carrying incense lanterns which replace the stench of the hospital's sterile ammonia with a warm, white musk..

As she holds Pino, it's as if a strange halo is surrounding her, while time comes to a standstill.

"What's going to happen to Lil?" Daedalus asks. "Is Pino going to grow up alright?"

Tetiana remains tight-lipped.

"Please, tell me," he goes, pleading to know about their fate. "This is your world, Tetiana, and you know down to the last atom what'll happen. I've trusted you since we've first met .. won't you trust me back?"

"They'll be fine, for now," she says. "In her first months of life, Pino will get to experience all the joys that's humanly possible. But then, the Antonioni family will seek vengeance upon Vincent – as they believe he's double-crossed them. A loose end who's humiliated the family, first on the botched poker game, and the failed attempt on Bonanno's life.."

"I thought Bonanno had died with the heart attack," Daedalus goes.

"No. He recovered in the hospital and found out about how Lil and Vincent were used like pawns against him. Vincent will die to save Lil and Pino, leaving her widowed – and Pino fatherless.."

"How could you.."

Daedalus sees his vision scramble; the signal to Zaporizhzhia is finally starting to terminate. He fights with all his will just to stay, as he sees the painting of Lil and Pino filling with a tragic doom.

"Tetiana – you whore!" he screams, as he finds reality's sensations returning. "I won't let you do this to them!"

"It's already happening," she says. "You wanted it from the start; so that you could hop in and steal the role of lover from Vincent.."

He is shaken with absolute horror when Tetiana and the sphere fades away – to be met by the security bureau's guards, who have barged into the sanctity of his room.

Kristeva yanks the patch from his forehead. "Dream's over, kiddo."

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