Déjà Vu: A Technothriller by Hocking, Ian (ebook reader that looks like a book .TXT) 📗

universe had no atoms. In fact, it was infinitely sharp.

The veranda ringed the cabin, so David walked around. He looked through a window and saw Bruce making fire with a bow and dry tinder. There was a brick fireplace, armchairs and other normal furnishings. Rendered by the graphic artist. Perhaps armchairs were rock-hard. He walked on.

He daydreamed that a race of intelligent beings evolved in this universe and developed science. Physicists would discover that matter is continuous, not discrete. Astronomers would find that their planet is the only planet, their star the only star. They would correctly see themselves as the centre of the universe. Mathematicians might uncover the principles of the general computing machine. If built, it would never outrun the computer that ran their universe: and what, indeed, would they hypothesise the limiting factor to be? God? They could use science to uncover their God.

It was getting too dark to see.

Smiling to himself, he walked inside.

“I was ten years old when I lost my sight. It was diabetes. The doctor had warned my mother about it and she had warned me but, well, I didn’t listen. It didn’t happen quickly. Oh no. I saw it coming.” He broke another leg off the meat he was eating. He tossed it to David.

David caught it, burned his hand, and dropped it. “Maybe later.”

Bruce’s laughter was interrupted by a cough. “How much longer do we have?”

“Like I said, I don’t know. Maybe no time at all. How long since the metadillo attacked me?”

“Metadillo. Nice word. About two hours.”

David leaned back and glanced at the window. It was black. As black as when he had arrived. The days on Planet Shimoda lasted less than three hours. More than ever, David wanted to access the computer and increase the brightness. That would put him on even sensory terms with the metal predator. The rain poured down. Maybe it would rust.

“Well,” he said, “they could arrive at any minute.”

“Who could?” Bruce asked absently. He coughed again.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Bruce smiled. There were red flecks on his teeth. “My guess is a virus. Remember that evolution is working just fine in this universe. We’ve got all sorts of predators, herbivores, omnivores, insectile thingies, bacteria, and, right at the bottom, viruses. I wasn’t born in this world. I have no history of exposure to any microscopic organisms as a child.”

David nodded. “Your immune system hasn’t been toughed up. Vaccinated.”

“That’s right. But there are other systems in my body that – in our world, where my body was ‘designed’ – need environmental stimulation to develop. My visual system, for example. We know that it would never develop without light. And yet mine has.”

“But you intended that, didn’t you?”

Bruce shrugged. “The program I wrote should have compensated. But it was never tested.”

“Until now.”

“Me. The test pilot. The dog in orbit.”

“Maybe this virus is particularly dangerous to humans.”

“It could be. Maybe we should call McWhirter – yet another military application for the project.”

David frowned. “McWhirter’s dead.”

“Oh yeah. You said. She’s still up there, you know.”

“Who?”

Bruce bit his lip. “The dog the Russians sent up. She was called Laika. She’s still in orbit.”

“Not around this planet.”

David’s eyes dropped to the floor. He breathed in little sighs.

“Dave?”

“What?”

“I’m dying. But.”

“But what?”

“I’m living. I haven’t seen hills and trees for thirty years.”

David laughed bitterly. “Was it worth the wait?”

“Yes. You want some food?”

“Is it insect?”

“Of course.”

“No thanks.”

David stood up and walked around the room. The rain sizzled against the windowpane, as though something was frying on its surface. He felt confined by the darkness and he was confused. Why had Bruce brought him here? Both had risked their lives to have this conversation yet they spoke guardedly. The soldiers could bomb their way into the research centre at any time.

“Bruce, I’m here. You have my full attention. What do you want?”

Bruce stopped chewing his food. He spat it out.

“It’s been twenty years, David. Why didn’t you get in touch?”

David sighed. First Jennifer, now Bruce. He was being scrooged. “I didn’t know what to say. When the project was bombed, it was finished.”

“Except it wasn’t finished, was it? The fish tank survived and here I am. Listen, do you ever have nightmares? About children with no eyes?”

David ignored him. “We had this great dream of experimental genetics. We got so caught up in engineering this world that we forgot about the research. What questions did we ever answer with the this?” He gestured about him. “This is nothing better than a cheap video game.”

“No. You’re wrong. I’m living in here. This video game gives me life because it gives me my sight. Do you know what that means?”

“Of course not. I’ve never been blind.”

There was a silence. Bruce chewed some more food with his mouth open. David’s muscles began to tighten. Finally, Bruce said, “I brought you here, Professor Proctor, to tell you something in private.”

“Private? Is this a joke? You brought me here to whisper in my ear? For all we know, there’s an entire company of soldiers standing a few feet away from me. I suppose a walk in the park would have been too much for you.”

“And I came here to die. Kill me.”

“What?”

David felt fury build up inside him but then, when he looked into Bruce’s helpless eyes and the blood on his teeth, his anger evaporated. Bruce was right. He was already dead. If he were removed from the computer, the trauma would kill him. If he stayed, the virus would kill him. The computer had him in checkmate.

David didn’t know what he was supposed to say. “Is this why you wanted me to talk to Hypno? You’re fucking crazy. No way.” There was a noise from the doorway. A footfall on the veranda. Bruce put a finger to his lips. David’s scalp tingled. It was the metadillo. It was back to finish them. Bruce retrieved a spear from his place near the fireplace and stood poised in the middle of the room. Then he nodded at the