Chapter Text
We decided to call the month in which AM stopped talking to us ‘New January’. Something like a celebration. One that would last until AM returned, because ‘Daddy the Deranged’ would not leave us alone.
The day we found the cans, the day Benny almost ate Gorrister, was New Year's Day. That's what we pronounced it to be. And we also named the months of our ‘new and glorious’ year: New January, New February, New March... And so it would continue. All because the others wanted to pretend God was merciful. A farce, in my opinion; and in the opinion of anyone with half a brain.
That’s what I want to believe.
But today is New December. The machine still hasn’t appeared.
Thirty years ago, something similar happened. AM left us, as I remember, two weeks of rest from him. When he left us for those two weeks, we were more frightened than we should have been. The situation was similar to what we experienced at New Year's after a week when we realised that AM was passive. At that time, thirty years ago, it was Nimdok who went mad.
The senile old man told us that the machine was preparing a master plan for even greater suffering. He climbed, I don't even know how, onto some metal rocks and shouted incoherent prayers at the ceiling — because there is no sky; it's all just AM. The machine appeared, humiliated him and his religion, and continued with its usual tortures. There was no big rage, no big torture, but it was reasonable.
His silence for those two weeks was enough to drive us crazy. He didn't need to touch us. He knew the weight of his absence.
That's why when Gorrister cut his entire forearm, we thought the machine would return. It did, yes, in a way it did; it healed Gorrister without saying a word. But then it disappeared again. Nothing else.
It almost seemed as if it were automated. As if it had fallen into an eternal sleep. Like humans, who breathe when we are asleep. But AM is not a person; it is not human. It is a machine. And a machine does not dream, breathe, blink, or have a heart that needs to beat while it is unconscious.
So our way of coping with the lethargy of AM, our once-god whom we depended on like the air itself, was to say that we had escaped agony. In the end, a hell without a tormentor is not hell. Just as a prison without guards is not a prison. And for the moment, we were doing it right.
Or rather, they thought they were holding up well. AM would return, I am sure. I can say that with certainty. After all, all the lights that simulated daylight were from his complex. If his lights were on, that meant he was on too. If not, I can't think of any other reason. Because there is no other reason, right?
Yes, he abandoned us for almost a whole year, but at the end of the day, that's part of our torture. One year compared to the one hundred and ten we've endured and the millions we'll endure in the future was like a lentil in a bucket of rice. It's noticeable, yes, but it's insignificant.
Settling in an area that was neither too cold nor too humid, a quiet place with perfect conditions, was just a way for them to think they were okay. Planting tubers in the little soil we had been able to collect was just a way to accept that AM would not make us go hungry again. Making beds, building ‘night’ fires, hunting rodents... It was just to make them feel better.
They lived a normal life, as far as possible, so as not to think about AM being dead. As if that were a bad thing. They were strange. If your perpetrator disappears and there is no certainty that he will return, shouldn't you be happy? I was. I definitely was. Definitely.
I'm not the one worried about whether AM is dead. That's everyone else's problem. I'm just enjoying the new good life that awaits me. Away from AM's torture. Away from the daily torment and pain. They were the fools for thinking AM would come back.
And they were fools indeed. Why were they afraid that AM might be dead? Fools. They should be happy! He's been torturing us for years, and for once he gives us some peace, and yet they react like that? Fools. They always were.
If they were like me, they would be alert. Yes. They would be watching every corner, watching to see if the machine's screens lit up. Watching for changes in the sounds of metal. Watching for changes in the wiring. Yes... If they were like me. If they were like me, Gorrister wouldn't be telling stories around the fire. If they were like me, Benny wouldn't be bringing useless things. If they were like me, Nimdok wouldn't be sanitising the food. If they were like me, Ellen wouldn't be acting like a leader.
“Are you going to do something or just stand there staring into nothingness?” I lifted my gaze. Gorrister, obviously. There was nothing reflected in his eyes, as always. Although for about four months now he’s been a bit less grumpy. Lately, he’s been telling the stories around the fire with a bit of enthusiasm.
I rolled my eyes and got up from the ground. I was supposed to be looking for scrap that might be of some use to us. Or a way out to the outside. Anything would do. Even water or some rodent. Besides, last week Ellen and Gorrister went off to set traps around. When he and I get back to the ‘camp’, we’ll check if any animal’s been caught.
“We’ll be back soon, so hurry up and find whatever rubbish you can, Ted,” he finished before going off to rummage through a pile of junk.
I looked at him and shortly after began searching somewhere else. Who did he think he was? I didn’t want to come in the first place. I didn’t want to be with him, or with any of the others. If I was with them, it was because we were a group. The day AM came back, we’d all be better off together than each one on their own. At least we could lean on each other.
The moment when God would return was imminent. No one would expect it. That’s why I was always with them. If it weren’t for that, I would have left long ago. I know they despise me, they despise me like actual shit. I don’t have a problem with that, and I completely accept it. That’s why I’d leave them. Not like they’d care much anyway.
After all, we’re trapped here for eternity. No one’s going to die. Why worry about someone you know won’t die? It makes no sense. Yes, they might be getting tortured, but like everyone else. There’s not much doom left to find.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t hear Gorrister’s first whistle. He did it again, louder this time, and that’s when I saw him in the distance. He was standing by a bag full of bits and bobs we’d probably never use, but it was good to have them anyway.
The bag, which really wasn’t more than some rags sewn together as best as we could and a string to close it, wasn’t as full as I had hoped. There were lots of things, mostly clothes in poor condition —but still useful—, metals with vegetation, devices or parts of them, broken and moss.
“Moss?” I asked as I dropped my part into the bag.
“Yes. Nimdok said it helps to keep the humidity,” made sense then. Water was a resource we struggled to keep steady. “And you? Found anything good?”
“Not really. The usual,” I said offhandedly.
Gorrister nodded without paying much attention to the thing I shoved into the bag. He looked around, trying to find one last object to add to our inventory. And while I was organizing the bag, he walked towards a mound. He bent down and picked something up from the ground. Something he slipped into his pockets.
“Let’s go,” he said without even waiting. I picked up the bag and slung it over my back as best as I could. “You carry it. I carried it on the way here,” he ordered. I was going to anyway, even if he hadn’t said it. Even if I didn’t want to. Still, he didn’t have to be such a tyrant about it.
While we walked back, obviously in complete silence, we checked the traps. Of the ten Ellen and he had set, five had been triggered. Yet, we only managed to collect four rats. Not much luck this time. Sometimes two even got caught in the same trap, but not today. Gorrister tied their legs with a rope to carry them more easily, picked up the trap bits, and we went on our way.
Of all the jobs they usually gave me, this one was the worst, no doubt.
It was nice to walk and not always be stuck in the makeshift camp, but we had been wandering AM’s complex for many years. It was impossible to find any joy in exploring when we already knew every corner the machine’s insides could offer.
At least, that’s how I see it.
Even so, there weren’t many others who could go. We had to go in pairs, no exceptions. It was a rule we’d set from the beginning. That way, if something happened to one of us —like AM’s likely punishment on his reawakening, I thought— there would be someone else there for support.
Knowing this, we ruled out Benny and Nimdok. Benny wasn’t very rational and could get us in trouble during expeditions. He was much better off tending the garden. Not completely, but taking care of the plants and turning the soil. Nimdok was far too busy to go exploring. Besides, he himself said that he could be better resting instead of wandering around uselessly.
And lastly, he was our scientist. If he told us to urinate in a bucket to boil the urine and get water out of it, we do it. If Nimdok said we shouldn’t eat today so the food could be useful for something else, we just endured the hunger. We had been through worse than just skipping a day’s meal anyway.
So that left only Ellen, Gorrister, and me, Ted, free.
Gorrister always went on expeditions. He was never really doing anything, and when given a task inside camp, he did it, then went back to doing nothing, wasting time lying down, sleeping, or staring at the plants grow. The best way to make use of him is sending him off on expeditions. That way he is always on the move and not idle at camp.
Ellen, on the other hand, was always doing something. She organised what we had, rationed food, made expedition maps… among many other things. She was practically the leader. Everyone listened to her, not only because she was good at what she did but because she was a woman. Of course, if you obey what she says, she may sleep with you. Simple as that.
She also went on most expeditions. Before going out, she usually left the day’s plan in order since the trip might take long. And she would leave me in charge.
As for me, well… I don’t do anything special. I just go around seeing if anyone needs help. If not, I would sew fabrics together. Something I was ashamed of at first, since it was ‘women’s work’. Sometimes I even managed to make a blanket warm enough, or a simple piece of clothing someone could wear. It became a useful pastime, so no one complained about my lack of activity.
I rarely go on expeditions. Mostly because I repudiate them, and Ellen knows that. I don’t want to be a crybaby, but whatever she was doing, I’m sure I could’ve done it by myself and she would go instead. Besides, she probably enjoys them far more than I do. Not for the change of scenery or love of exploring, but because she got to be alone with Gorrister.
“Why didn’t Ellen come instead of me?” I ended up asking, just out of curiosity. “Did she have something important to do or…?” I left the question open for its contestation.
Gorrister, walking ahead of me, gave a short sigh. As if he’d been waiting for this moment to get it off his chest. He looked at me while still walking and slowed down slightly to walk beside me.
“I’ll tell you straight,” he started. “She has noticed you’ve been down lately, doing nothing. And since I’m the apathetic one in the group, she planned this trip so we could talk,” he finished. Wow. Typical Ellen. “You know I’m not like her. If you want to talk or not, I don’t care; do it if you want, stay quiet if you prefer. As long as you work, that’s fine for me,” and typical Gorrister.
I gave a sigh that simulated a laugh without grace. Ellen’s always getting in the middle, of course. What other reason would she have to send me with him on an expedition? Gorrister and I would never get along. He was too listless and a lone wolf. I was the opposite, to some extent. We didn’t click, and we never would.
But Ellen was obsessed with keeping the group together and wanting everyone to be happy. Reminder: we’re inside AM’s stomach! There’s no way to be happy here!
I’m sure the method Ellen used to ask Gorrister to talk to me. At least to give me some little speech. And I’m sure of the way she’ll thank him when we get back and he tells her he actually did talk to me, even if it was just a single sentence.
That was Ellen. No matter how much she played the leader, she ended up being the same as before New Year’s. Congratulations, Ellen, you’ve just discovered that in one year you can’t change what you’ve been for more than a century. A whore, after all. Sleeping with men just to get favours or have them in the palm of your hand. A whore, through and through.
The number of times any of us must’ve slept with her would outnumber the molecules that give form to AM’s complex. And even so, I'm sure she'll continue to use the same method to convince them to do what he wants. And she's probably manipulated me in the same way as well.
If I thought about it, it was strange Ellen never got pregnant. Maybe AM had taken away her fertility. Obviously not our fault she couldn’t conceive. Even so, it was a big relief too because none of us would want to deal with a newborn inside the machine’s bowels.
Back in the early years here, when Ellen still refused to be what she really was —that is, a slag— she still had her period. It was a really psychological pain to put up with her complaining day and night about it. And disgusting. The Bible itself says so. It’s filthy and vile. She surely knew that too, because she wouldn’t let us near her. That’s why she spent so long pretending not to be the bitch she was. But she gave in, obviously. She couldn’t fight what she is.
Her change was similar to Benny’s. He was the most sane one at the start. Possibly the most qualified for it. The pre-primate Benny was a fusion of the best of me and the best of Nimdok. Young, though not younger than me, handsome, clever… everything really; but he was gay.
AM cursed him with relation to it. Took everything he once was and pushed him to the opposite. Turned him into an irrational being, detached from reality, with almost no intellect. And, well, gave him a massive member. A satire to his homosexuality. Forced to be so primitive that he was governed by what should naturally be.
Ellen grew in a similar way. At first she kept her distance, not getting close to us, not talking to us. Then she befriended Benny, and little by little she got joined to the rest. At first, when we still thought we could escape this, AM’s tortures, we didn’t care about gender differences.
Bit by bit, we accepted our reality. While Ellen became more and more submissive, Benny looked and acted more like a caveman. So once everything reached its breaking point, that impious morality we’d grown up with since we were mere children, vanished. We started having unspoken rules, guided only by respect for those we shared food with.
And the breaking point was Benny’s loss of reason and Ellen’s total loss of menstruation. Well, I think she didn’t have it anymore. Simply because she hadn’t complained about it for a hundred years.
The machine had slowly turned them into what they are now. Not a sudden change, but gradual, drop by drop. Every day, Gorrister had less hope and was quieter. Just as Nimdok, who at first seemed like someone as hateful as AM. Then, bit by bit, slowly became someone more sociable. If it weren’t logical, I wouldn’t have understood his change.
Nimdok was once a Nazi. That’s why AM compared himself to him with mocking enthusiasm. That’s why we noticed the disgust with which he looked at Ellen. The machine, instead of amplifying that and making him an ally, did the opposite. Wiped his memory and with it, the idealisation to his leader. So every memory that came to him like a faint light hurt his very being. Because he’d done the same to others as AM was doing to us.
‘Was doing’... Actually, what it ‘had done’. AM is no longer here.
“So, are you going to talk or not? Last chance,” Gorrister warned. I looked at him, not quite remembering what he meant until I recalled our original theme of conversation.
“Ah…” I started. I didn’t want to answer because I actually had no answer, but I didn’t want him to think something was wrong either. Not because I wanted to downplay myself, but because I didn’t want him pestering me about it. Besides, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. Completely fine. “I don’t really know why she says that,” I muttered without giving it attention. “I’m fine. Her being paranoid doesn’t mean something’s wrong with me.”
Gorrister looked at me coldly. It was an analytical stare. As if he was studying whether I was lying or not. I wasn’t; nothing was wrong with me. But why should he care? As he had said before, he didn’t care about anything. That was clear. It had been like that for years. There was no need to say it to have it clear.
“Yeah, well,” he said, looking away and shrugging. “Say it till you believe it.” God, what a pain. “Something’s up with you. Another thing is you don’t know what it is.” His tone wasn’t condescending, but it felt like it.
Depression was for weak-minded fools or moody grumps like him. Not me. I’m fine. Perfectly fine. They shouldn’t care anyway, my mood’s none of their business. And if I’m not fine, so what? Why should they care if I weren’t well?
“Then just make something up to tell Ellen,” I said with my voice clearly annoyed. “What’s the point anyway? You have just said it yourself. As long as I work, it doesn’t matter. Make something up, whatever it is. You know more about this than I do, anyway,” I attacked, almost shouting. My voice was raising as I spoke; gaining confidence but losing anger.
“Know more about what? Lying? Of course, Ted. Too right”.
…Oh.
An awkward silence formed. At least for him. My mind wouldn’t shut up, not even for a second.
Does he know? Does he know I’m a fraud? Does he know everything? No, no… He must’ve just said it for the sake of it, right? There’s no way he knows. No. Impossible. He couldn’t know, no. Never. I never gave signs of it being a fraud. It’s impossible he knows because I never said anything to make them doubt. My manners were perfect. Worthy of the bourgeoisie. They were.
Yes. He must’ve said it because he was angry. He didn’t know what he was saying. He didn’t.
Gorrister stopped walking when he noticed my silence at his jab. I stopped too. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled something out, tossing it lightly towards me. I caught it mid-air. It was a ring. Covered in scratches and dirt, but a ring nonetheless, made of white gold. Or at least it looked like white gold from the colours. It also had a bit of rose gold.
“I was going to give it to you so you could give it to Ellen,” he explained. “But do whatever you want. I know Ellen would like it, but I don’t care what you do with it,” he finished, walking off. There was some anger in his voice. More like frustration, if anything. Something similar.
Understandable. He and the woman had become quite close since AM healed Gorrister. I mean, they’d already been mates before. We are all like that to each other, in the end. The complicity of suffering the same fate. But after AM, Gorrister and Ellen started talking a lot between themselves. Quite a lot, as if they were old friends.
That makes me wonder if they’re really just friends. Normally, we only talked to come up with the next plan AM had for us or things related to our tortures. Now, without the machine as an executioner, we chat about supplies, food, and such things.
Ellen and Gorrister, though, talk more often about trivial stuff. Otherwise, I wouldn’t understand why Ellen laughs and Gorrister half-smiles at some moments of the day. I used to think it was because they were a couple. That would explain a lot, like why she no longer slept with anyone else, and why Gorrister got so grumpy when we hinted at anything related to it.
Before. Now I’m not so sure. It wouldn't make sense for him to give me the ring to pass to her if they were. Why if they were a couple he wouldn’t give it to her himself? They may be just good friends. Who knows.
The ring, by the way, was quite pretty. Mainly made of white gold, with details in rose gold, forming ellipses between the two colours. Not even a single yellow spark, but it still kept the majesty of gold.
It could easily be an engagement ring, though it had no diamond or other strange-expensive stone. Who knows if they ever got married. Poor souls doomed to death.
Gorrister was right. Ellen would love the ring; whether or not there were second intentions, she would love it. There wasn’t even a hint of golden shine. None of that yellow that gave her that bizarre fear and aversion I never understood. White gold that looked like silver; rose gold like a shiny reddish orange.
I put it away and followed Gorrister. We didn’t take long to get back, anyway.
I dropped the bag near where we usually built the fire, and the others came closer to see what we had found. Even though we had warned them there was nothing special, they were still excited.
After sorting things out and sharing the resources with whoever they needed, Nimdok went with Benny to place the moss in the garden. Meanwhile, Ellen took the rats and asked us to help her gut and clean them. So we did it. After skinning, gutting, and beheading them, we shredded the meat to add to the ‘soup’ or mash we would have for dinner.
“Oh, by the way,” Ellen said before we left the gutting table. “Benny found some mushrooms near the garden. We showed them to Nimdok and he said they didn’t seem extremely poisonous, but if they were, cooking them long enough would make them edible,” she warned with a smile. “I mean, we might have a few side effects, but nothing deadly or harmful.”
“So it would be good to plant them then, right?” I asked. She nodded.
“He said as long as the mycelium isn’t damaged, more will grow. And that he would take care of planting cuttings to have more of them in the next mushroom season,” she told us.
“So it’s autumn then,” Gorrister thought out loud. We looked at him curiously. “I used to go out to the mountain with my dad to pick mushrooms. They grow in autumn,” he explained lazily and without elaboration. The woman nodded again and went on with dinner prep.
Gorrister stayed to help her, and probably to talk about what we had discussed earlier. I didn’t care. I should’ve not cared, but well, it annoyed me a bit to know that they would talk about me.
I, on the other hand, went to check on the garden.
Nimdok was placing the moss methodically around some plants and keeping a handful to give them another use. I went over to help, and he showed me how to place it.
“You’ve brought a good kind of moss,” he said as we worked. “It holds moisture, helps filter water… this type specifically can also help heal wounds and be a store of water,” he rambled. I didn’t know what he was on about, but if it was useful, fine then.
We finished placing the moss and helped with dinner prep. I had been peeling potatoes and cutting them into small cubes. We threw everything needed into our trusty pot sitting over the fire that Gorrister and Benny lit with dry leaves, twigs, and herbs. Ellen poured a specific amount of water and covered the pot so not too much would evaporate and lose on the way.
While it was getting cooked, we sat around the fire and talked. Gorrister told stories or tales he could remember. Ellen summed up the day. Benny talked about the garden with excitement and love for the plants. And Nimdok spoke about chemical stuff we didn’t understand in regard to water. Positive stuff.
Everything was going too well. Too well for months. Almost a year now.
We regularly checked the food until it had finished cooking. Then we waited for it to cool a bit on Nimdok’s advice to not lose much water through evaporation. Then Ellen mashed the food until turning it into a kind of mash with meat and mushrooms.
Once done, we ate.
The food was bland because of the lack of salt. Though maybe better that way. I don't think that some thick soup of potato, rat, and mushrooms would taste great anyway. The earthy flavour was constantly present, but it was far better to eat this than anything AM could have ever given us before.
Then we went to sleep.
We had no houses and no proper shelter. It didn't really matter. Rain wouldn’t get in here, unless water dripped down from above. Nor hardly insupportable wind or wild gross animals wanting to rip us apart. AM had stopped creating and sending them.
In the end, it was a waste of materials we could use for thousands of other things. We slept around the fire, far apart from each other.
The others didn’t have any problems getting to sleep. With a full stomach, we could do anything. Benny, for example, had become less savage since we had started to set a steady eating routine and a stable aliment. He was becoming more rational in the way our camp was getting developed.
Lying on a few sewn fabrics, I had to lie on my stomach. I usually slept facing the ceiling, watching the machine’s complex, or if not, lying on my side. I broke the habit because the ceiling started moving. The walls too. They flowed slightly, like the water’s surface. And I felt tickling all over my body. My mouth felt turbid. The earthy taste of dinner kept cycling in my mouth.
Ah, right. The mushrooms.
The effects weren’t as strong as I had expected them to be. It was like being drunk, in a certain way. And everything seemed to move like a hypnotic picture. Like the smoke of the past fire, which was taking funny shapes. Like the ground, which looked to be forming spirals. Everything made waves and spirals. And out of nowhere, I felt that tingling on my skin in a different way. Like tiny rats or insects running all over me.
I snorted softly, exasperated, and tried to ignore it. I was going to try to sleep. The others weren’t like this because they were asleep. Asleep, you can’t hallucinate. It was better to go through it asleep than awake and go mad from the visions.
I tried, until I felt a little sting in my arm. My eyes darted open and moved fast and saw something crawling up my arm.
“Snakes,” I thought.
Like a cat hunting its prey, I grabbed the reptile that bit me. At first, its cold touch confirmed me I was right, it was a snake. Then I doubted again, feeling its smooth skin with no scales.
“THOUGHT YOU WERE ASLEEP, TED,” oh– it was AM’s voice. I had been bitten by his wire. How had I been bitten by his wire? It was a wire. Wire. “I WONDERED IF YOU ALL GOT POISONED,” it laughed before speaking again. “BUT YOU’RE JUST HIGH. EH, TED?”
Why was his voice sounding so strange? It wasn’t like always. And his laugh too. Weird, it wasn’t AM. Similar, but not him. His timbre was the same as always, but the sighs, the nervous chuckles, the stuttering he used to do were gone. Those human touches he used to implement to his speech were gone. Those sounds that made him seem more like a human.
It sounded like what it was. Sounded like a robot with a voice. Its voice wasn’t making any changes. Monotone, no pitch, no whispering or raising its voice. Just one flat tone.
“Why your voice so weird?” I asked, ignoring what he had just said.
If I weren’t drugged and hallucinating, I wouldn’t be able to face this situation. I would be terrified, I’m sure. I would scream, waking the others. Instead, I was talking to him like we were friends.
He took a while to answer. Not that he really did it.
“NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS,” its cable, the one I had been gripping, coiled around my wrist and tightened. Without thinking, I used my other hand to try and pull it off. He took advantage of the situation to slip free.
Ah, he did that so I let him go.
“AM, why you…?” I didn’t finish my question before he interrupted me.
“YOU’RE VERY HIGH. AREN’T YOU, TED?” it mocked. “GO TO SLEEP”.
I felt another sting in my arm. Soon after, I started feeling sleepy. One of AM’s wires pushed my head against the ground, forcing me to sleep, then withdrew.
Being high was, all things considered, a good thing for me.
It made me realise AM would never return.
I had to imagine his presence to make myself believe he was still here.
But AM would never come back.
He had died.
His complex automated itself so we won’t die.