The Last Bender, Chapter 48

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

          Beneath the heads sat Stronghole, in a glass chair at a glass table, reading a book. He had his usual military bearing; that had not relaxed since coming to the dome. But it had only been a day. Perhaps with time he would become like the others. These heads looked very serious. They were impossible to ignore, banked up along the ceiling, spaced at equal intervals, subjecting everything we did to objective ocular scrutiny. Perhaps these heads were supervisors. St. Claude stood between us. “Stronghole, just as you predicted, Jack has arrived. He wants to take you with him. I think it’s a good idea. We can get along here without you.”

          Stronghole blinked his eyes and gave St. Claude a hard one. “You said I could stay.”

          “That was before he laid out our situation, and with remarkable clarity. I’m sure as his former partner you are well acquainted with his wit, but did you ever watch him drink?”

          “Come on Stronghole, let’s go. This guy is nuts. They all are.”   I felt a little bad about saying it in front of St. Claude. But there comes a time when someone has to say it. I didn’t mind being the one. “Soon this’ll be a heap of glass.”

          Stronghole stood up. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. These people aren’t nuts. Do crazy people build things like this?”   He made a broad gesture with his hand, like I was supposed to take it all in and agree.

          “What the fuck is this, anyway? What is it, St. Claude? You have these goddamn heads everywhere, staring at us all the time. I don’t know how you manage to think straight.”

          The smile on St. Claude’s face was modest, even a little embarrassed. “It’s a brain, actually. I’ll show you if you like.”

          “Don’t you see it, Jack?”  

          “I see a bunch of heads in fish tanks and a lot of loony people lounging around without a care in the world. Meanwhile you got everyone and their mother out trying to kill you. Why do you want to stay?”

          He sat down, smiled and scratched his head. “This Botrytis is amazing. I feel great. I just feel like everything is moving at the right speed for me now. There’s none of that waiting around.”

          St. Claude said, “Jack, let me put this to you in your terms if you will. I’ve taken every drug known to human society. Every one involves you in a chemically induced illusion, resulting in a net loss of twice the imagined gain. But Botrytis is just the opposite. There is an exponential increase of consciousness with every use. And once you have a taste, you would suck it out of someone’s rectum if that were the only way to get it.

          “Now think about the disgust you feel knowing that to be true. As Marvell said,  O, who shall from this dungeon raise/ A soul enslaved so many ways?/ with bolts of bones, that fettered stands/ In feet, and manacled in hands. So we started with disgust and worked our way backwards to the spores and slugs.”

          “I’m just not going to go,” Stronghole said. He opened his book and pretended to read.

          “Can they see us?”   I asked, pointing to the heads.

          “That’s just the thing,” Stronghole said. “They’re the thinkers. This place is pure thought. It circulates in the light and water. Hydras do the work.”  

          “These walls aren’t glass Jack, they’re crystal. This is a giant invisible brain. It uses the sun and seawater for power. And this is just a prototype. By the time we’re done, the glass project will be the new paradigm for terrestrial existence. We are bringing down the sky to earthlings, spreading the word among us all, making available to all the living beings of earth our discovery. It’s not about money and drugs Jack, or about product names and celebrity tie-ins. It’s about the transformation of being into a higher order, not dependent on organic matter.”

          I sat down. “Is the front door the only way out of here?”

          “You mean in case of attack?”   St. Claude asked.

          “I’ve been over it with them, Jack. There’s an exit to the beach. From there they can make it to the ship. It’s fully equipped to do the work off shore, invisibly if need be.”

          “How far from the house does this tunnel let out?”

          “About a half a mile.”  

          Stronghole looked totally gone. There was no point in staying. You have to let people die who want to die. “I guess I’m all done here then. I’m going out that back way.”

          St. Claude said, “You haven’t seen the whole brain yet. You haven’t even seen the labs or the hydra rooms.”

          It was too much. “Just knock it off with that stuff!”

          He laughed deeply. “You are enormously entertaining. Listen Jack, wouldn’t you like to at least try the Botrytis? Just once, to see what it’s like?”

          “The sooner I’m outta your brain the better. And don’t think I’m not holding it against you how you hooked Stronghole. I can’t budge him now, but I’ll be back. As for you, partner, take a look at those tanks, if you wanna see how you’re gonna end up.”

          “I live in anticipation of that day.”

          “But there is much to be done before that,” St. Claude said.

          “I’m his chief of security.”

          “Oh yeah? Have you told Priscilla and Pringle about it yet? Are ya gonna teach these heads math?”

          Stronghole looked sad, the way a kid does. This was gonna kill me.

          St. Claude bristled his eyebrows. “I think Botrytis will give you some insight into how we live.”

          “Yeah, cause those heads don’t see out.”   I headed towards what I took to be the hall. “Do I grope around, or are you coming?”

          “No. I’ll show you to the tunnel. But I won’t repress my disappointment, Jack.”  

          We headed down a hall, and I walked almost right into her. The three of us stopped. Evalyn was not dressed like the others. She wore a red Cornell sweatshirt, faded jeans and black deck shoes. I tried to figure out if she was on the drug. Then I felt a burning sensation in my throat. “Did you know all the time?”   I asked.

          She looked at the floor and said, “I didn’t know you were here, Jack.”

          “Regretfully, he’s leaving. Neither Stronghole nor I could prevail upon him to stay.”

          I looked her over. I was pissed off, but I wanted her worse than the water. The water was nothing to her. And then, once I got to thinking about it that way, other things began to click. Like, maybe it was safer here than on the outside. Cause I had no idea what was out there anymore. “Well, maybe it would be better if I stayed after all. Maybe there’s a way out for all of us.”

          St. Claude clapped his hands together and beamed at me. “Just as I had hoped.”