S02E07: Bring Down the Heavens

PERIWINKLE: Dude, Cado, have you seen the librarian lately?

AVOCADO: The little gremlin in the big hat? No.

PERI: She’s been spending a lot of time with the boss lately.

CADO: How would you know, Peri?

PERI: She’s got a sick manga collection. I go there to read I Fell Into A Hole And Now I’m Falling Forever and Dunwich Meshi on breaks sometimes. Did you finish the volume I lent you yet?

CADO: You going somewhere here, or do you just want to waste my time?

PERI: It’s just Lapis has been acting really weird. Come on, trust me. Let’s go see.

*walking to library, door creaks open*

CADO, quietly: Is that like…an aura? When did they start giving out auras?

PERI: I had an aura once.

CADO: No you didn’t.

PERI: For real, dudeski. Huge aura, it was all *neeeooowww* and blue like a fire, one of those really hot fires.

CADO: Or like a jellyfish.

PERI: You’re just mad you didn’t get an aura.

CADO: What even is an aura? Who cares.

PERI: You cared a second ago. Why do you always have to ruin my mood. It’s like you can’t be happy unless I’m miserable. You’re an ogre.

CADO: Shut up.

PERI: You are, duderino. You’re an ogre, a curmudgeon, a troll under a bridge. Real “answer me these riddles three” type. A pain in my ass.

CADO: Shut up, shut up, she’s doing something.

PERI: Oh hell yeah, let me see. Move. I can’t see past your spindly little neck.

CADO: Oh my god.

PERI: What, what? What’s she doing?

CADO: There’s this big piece of metal on the floor.

PERI: Like a girder? Is it a girder? Where’d she get a girder?

CADO: Stop saying girder! I don’t know. But she’s…she lifted it with her mind or something.

PERI: No fair, dude, let me see!

CADO: Shut up or she’ll hear you. She lifted it into the air–it’s like twice her size–she lifted it and then it got all squished.

PERI: Squished how? You have to be my eyes here. It’s just neck hair in my whole field of vision.

CADO: It got all wrung out, like it was a wet towel.

PERI: But it’s totally made of metal, right?

CADO: I think it’s steel. But she wrung it out like a rag, and all this color dripped from it.

PERI: Dripped? How?

CADO: Maybe that’s the aura? What did yours do anyway?

PERI: They don’t do anything, idiot, they’re just there.

CADO: Your aura didn’t do anything. Maybe hers does. She just moved her hand and the metal scrunched up into a little ball. And now it’s gone.

PERI: Gone? How?

CADO: I don’t know, man, it just got smaller and smaller and now I can’t see it anymore.

PERI: Like a kangaroo jumping into its own pouch.

CADO: That can’t happen.

PERI: It can in cartoons, I’ve seen it! They jump into their own pouch and disappear. Maybe it went into a demiplane or something. Like a world connecting all pockets and pouches and the spot underneath the couch cushions and the space in between manga panels.

CADO: Right. The loose change dimension.

PERI: I’m serious! If it didn’t go to a demiplane where kangaroos jump into their own pouches and people can swallow their own heads, where else did it go?

*rumble*

CADO: Whoa. Did you feel that?

PERI: An earthquake?

CADO: In the middle of Ohio?

PERI: Dude. What if it was her?

CADO: I don’t want that. I don’t want to even think about that.

PERI: For real, though. She made that beam disappear, what if she can…*quieter* what if she ends up like Green? If she’s even half his power level, she could do what she just did to that girder, but to our skulls.

CADO: I don’t want to even think about thinking about that. Ahh, here comes Yellow. We gotta go, I don’t want to get stuck talking to her for 20 minutes. I need some coffee.

PERI: Dude, grab me a cappuccino.

CADO: You paying?

PERI: You owe me after the game last week. Remember? Massive L for you.

CADO: Fine. Come with me so I don’t have to carry both.

***

ERICA: Glad you all made it here safely, if a little…sticky.

NADIA: Whatever, I’ll be fine.

OLIVIA: So what did you find out?

ERICA: I did my best to sketch it out.

OLIVIA: Oh, nice, those are my favorite pens.

ERICA: Yes, well. See, here is where we are, the planetarium’s back here, and the firewatch tower for this zone is here, to the northeast. However, on the active radar, I noticed something strange. There was some kind of signal emanating from the tower, waves of some kind. Radio, gamma, xray, I have no idea. But there was a bright electromagnetic reading there, when the whole area should be dark.

ERICA: Someone, something, must be there, and whatever it is, it’s got signal. It’s either broadcasting a line, or receiving one.

OLIVIA: You think it could be what’s behind all this?

ERICA: Maybe. If nothing else, it’s highly unusual, and I think you could call what’s happening here “highly unusual” as well. Whatever Keith and Munoz and the others heard, whatever got into their heads, it’s probably coming from there. Pretty much everywhere else on the map went dark.

ALEX: Are you coming with us?

ERICA: I…no.

OLIVIA: Why not? You can’t just stay here.

ERICA: I wish I could join you, but I…I’m in trouble. I believe I’ve broken a rib or two, so walking is a slow and painful process.

OLIVIA: Oh, jeez, I’m sorry.

ERICA: Don’t be. I should survive. And there may be another that can help you out. I met someone on the trail while I was out. Strange guy, went by Orange. They’re looking for you, Olivia.

OLIVIA: Me? Why?

ERICA: They’re with the state, apparently. You’ve been reported missing. It seems that, outside these woods, time’s passing rather quickly. We’ve been out here for the equivalent of several days.

ALEX: My mom’s gonna kill me.

NADIA: Like a stress dream I can’t wake up from.

ERICA: Speaking on that…while I was testing the effects of this light gun, I think I’ve figured out what is at the core of this. Everything that’s happened tonight, it doesn’t operate on usual logic. It’s…well, frankly put, it’s nonsense. Massive parasites, psychic abilities, time dilation…It’s hard to admit that this isn’t explainable by rational deduction, through the scientific method, but…I thought hard enough about this gun being real, and it was, if for just a moment. We’re in something similar to a dream state. In a nightmare, a panic attack, a bad trip.

OLIVIA: I think that’s kind of it, yeah.

*Erica winces*

ERICA: Still stings quite a bit for a dream.

ALEX: You’re telling me. I can’t stop getting punched. And thrown. And dragged.

OLIVIA: So that spot on your map. How far is it from here?

ERICA: Under usual circumstances, it would be about an hour-long hike by trail.

NADIA: About 50 minutes longer than I’d like.

OLIVIA: It’s doable though, right?

ERICA: It’s a beginner trail, you should be fine, topographically speaking. Zoologically, I couldn’t tell you.

ALEX: More of those worm things.

ERICA: Almost certainly. Though you’re not defenseless against them. If you can twist the logic of the dream to your favor, it may help in small ways. Nadia’s done it once, so have I.

OLIVIA: Is it that easy?

ERICA: It can be. It just takes the will to stand without fear and do the damn thing.

OLIVIA: Got it. We’ll be back soon, Dr Mori. I promise.

ERICA: I’ll hold you to that.

ALEX: If you two are ready, let’s get the hell out of here and find that tower.

OLIVIA: Give me a sec, I’m going to try my phone one more time.

***

STERLING: I feel like I’m…forgetting something.

GREEN: Oh? Do you ‘feel’ you’ve forgotten it, Sterling, or do you know it? It’s important to distinguish our emotions from our knowledge, because we humans are creatures of emotion. We mustn’t disregard such a powerful resource simply to please almighty Logic.

STERLING: Maybe it’s just nerves, Green…

GREEN: Interesting hypothesis. You did follow your checklist to the letter. It’s all accounted for, is it not?

STERLING: But what if I left something off the list? What if I didn’t remember that I needed to remember?

GREEN: Then it must have been ancillary in the first place.

STERLING: R-right…

Sterling looked down at the decades-old carpet under his feet: cheap, flat, designed to be ignored. Forgotten the moment you look away. But for some reason, it seemed familiar.

STERLING: You know I get…oh, my. Strong sense of deja vu came over me suddenly.

GREEN: Oh?

STERLING: Yes, like I’ve said those words before. And next you’d call me “starling” and we’d talk nicknames. Isn’t that just odd.

GREEN: Yes, some believe it’s the past returning, or a dream repeated in the waking world. I believe it’s just an errant electrical signal, a chemical mismatch or some such.

Sterling looked to the large window facing the runway. The midday sun was so bright, it glared against the glass, and bleached the surrounding scene white, the edges of the horizon almost faded to nothing like the edge of a watercolor landscape. It was so bright he couldn’t make out the runway, and it hurt his head to look, so he turned back to Green.

GREEN: Back to the nicknames, however. If you had to choose one for me, what would it be?

STERLING: I feel as though you have an answer already in mind.

GREEN: No, no, go on then.

STERLING: What rhymes with “Green?” It’s quite a task.

*garbled announcement on the speaker*

STERLING: Did they just call our section?

GREEN: I don’t believe so.

STERLING: Strange. I couldn’t really understand it. It should be about time. Let me check.

GREEN: No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry–

STERLING: Oh. Green. Look at this, can you tell the time?

GREEN: Must be nearing 12:30.

STERLING: No, can you read my watch. It…it’s garbled. It’s like I’m in…

GREEN: Don’t be ridiculous, Sterling. This is not a dream.

STERLING: I’ll be right back.

GREEN: What are you doing? Sit back down and relax.

STERLING: No, I’m going to look for another clock.

GREEN: Sterling, wait!

Sterling walked down the terminal with purpose. His head swiveled as his gaze was thrown from one wall to the next, desperately searching for evidence to disprove his hypothesis. He saw a cafe sign, but couldn’t focus to read what it said. He found a digital clock, but the time indicated didn’t exist.

STERLING: Pardon me, do you have the time? *effects make this slow down to a crawl like a record*

His feet slowed to a crawl and the words clung in his throat like cement. He reached his hand for the gate attendant, but he couldn’t control his body. He tried the connecting door to the plane they would be boarding, but the door didn’t open. Instead, the door vanished, and Sterling could see the runway, or would have been able to see the runway, were it there. The whole space beyond the tiny fraction that was barely visible through the terminal window was a white expanse. There was no plane, no grass, no city on the horizon. Just half of an airport floating in the void.

STERLING: Green, what’s…

GREEN: *sigh* It’s all right, little bird, you’re fine. The sky’s not falling just yet. Sit back down.

STERLING: No, no, it’s not fine. How did we get here? What were we doing before we talked about what I’d packed?

GREEN: We took a taxi, of course. And had a light lunch.

STERLING: I don’t remember any of it. What did I eat?

GREEN: I had the soup and you had a sandwich.

STERLING: What kind? What was on it? What color was the plate?

GREEN: I don’t see how any of this is relevant. Turkey, I believe. Are you feeling well?

STERLING:  I…I don’t recall any of this morning at all. And yet, this place…I feel I’ve been here before. Th-this can’t be happening.

GREEN: Don’t be daft, Sterling, it’s perfectly norm–

STERLING: Why are you so sure? You can see the plane’s not there.

GREEN: It simply hasn’t arrived yet.

STERLING: You’re being obtuse. You’re trying to distract me from something. From the fact that this place…this place doesn’t exist.

*pause*

No, that’s not it. It did exist, and we were here before. Our vacation to Paris. We were waiting to board, and I forgot to bring the old camera.

GREEN: Yes, I suppose that could be the case.

STERLING: It’s been some time since that trip, and…Oh, god, Green. How long has it been? You were gone…

GREEN: I was always here, Sterling.

STERLING: You vanished, then…the employee orientation. Yellow and Scarlet. The glass box, and…Green. Please. Tell me the truth. What is going on.

GREEN: I suppose it was only a matter of time. Let’s sit, Sterling.

STERLING: A matter of time until…what exactly?

GREEN: You’re sharp, Sterling. Brilliant, even. I feared I could only keep your inquisitive mind at bay for so long. This…this is a memory. We are within your memories. We have been, for a long time… or a very short time, depending on your perspective.

STERLING: That’s why I can only see things here that I saw then. That’s why these people have no faces, the clocks have no time, the rest of the outside world’s a sketch.

GREEN: Do you know how difficult it is to create novel faces based on passing glances? Yes, I took you with me into the realm of the fictobiological. To the other side. We dove into your mind and I’ve been guiding us back through your memories. Our memories. My…my favorite moments of our time together. I built the scene you see before you, Sterling. The buildings I think I did quite well. I studied the floorplans of the airport, the restaurant, and recreated them all to the best of my ability–with a few slight improvements. I hold the moon above you with my own hands, darling.

STERLING: You made this? Why…why didn’t you just tell me? We could have enjoyed reminiscing together.

GREEN: It’s not so simple. You’re dying, Sterling. There’s a bullet currently lodged very near your sternum.

STERLING: O-oh…I can…almost feel it. But I don’t seem to be affected here.

GREEN: Yes, you see the difficulty now. You were dying–are dying–and I took you to the only place that I knew you’d be safe.

STERLING: Even so, this place…It’s all fake, a-a stage play for an audience of two.

GREEN: But a pleasant one, no? Have you not enjoyed my show?

STERLING: I…I am a scientist, Green. A researcher. My entire career–hell, even my hobbies–are dedicated to solving problems and finding truth.

GREEN: And I’ve solved this particular problem for us.

STERLING: No, you’ve tampered with the variables. This is not usable data.

GREEN: Possibly. But would you rather not try to make it work while we can?

STERLING: Not if it’s all built on a lie. On wrong assumptions.

GREEN: Sterling, be serious here for a moment. You’ve studied places like this your whole life, yet now they’re “lies”? Fictobiology didn’t seem to be “wrong” when you weren’t affected by it. Here, let me take you behind the curtain.

We are in a harmless theater of sorts, constructed within your own mind by the hand of yours truly. Outside of these scenes, it’s an ocean of nothing. Pure empty space. We are in the line breaks between stage directions, a liminal space outside of time and narrative implication.

Look beyond the walls of this place, and you will see miles of white with no horizon. Listen, and you will hear the backing track on loop; I was never particularly grand at composition. We fell between the pages of the script. Within the script itself, there is only one thing left in store for you: death. The last line of your final act.

Now you see. If I stop this, if I end the scene and let you move on to the next, do you know what you will find out there? Hatred. Pain. Suspicious glances and whispers. A cold, uncaring place, a ship with no rudder. No agency at all. And I…the truth of it is, my starling, I don’t want to live in a world where you are not a variable. Where I cannot hear your song. In this place, it’s always warm, it’s always sunny and clear and bright, and you are alive. Here, the world bends to us, not the other way around. We could exist like this for all time, my love. You, me, living blissfully, moment to moment, forever.

STERLING: But…how can I go on knowing that we’re essentially trapped? That you traded one prison for another? That there’s never a surprise to be had again? It’s all…fake.

GREEN: Many a great thing is fake. Does that make it any less great? Monumental works of art–by Dali, Shakespeare, Hannah Hoch to Bach–all creation is falsehood, all fiction a bundle of lies. But its effect on its audience is true. How is this place any different than a poem? Does it matter if what we’re seeing isn’t real if what we’re feeling is?

STERLING: To me it does.

GREEN: I cannot force you to remain here, Sterling. I would not. I can only warn you: if you step outside this bubble, we may never meet again.

STERLING: I…I don’t want to be without you again, Green. I was alone for so long, but…

GREEN: You may never take another breath if you go now. You will face the collapsing world with clear eyes and an empty heart. But it will be “true.” Is that really what you want?

STERLING: I don’t know…The people I talk to, the food I eat…all stale. Nothing new in my life again.

GREEN: It’s quite simple once you get used to it. But you know me. I am a creature of habit.

STERLING: What am I supposed to do? You’ve put me in an impossible situation. If I stay with you, I’ll slowly wither away. An eternity of inoffensive boredom. If I leave this memory and move forward, I’m likely to die. I…

GREEN: I have a preference, of course, but now that you know, you must choose. Live in the lie of our love a little longer, or face truth and death? The door is there. I won’t stop you. You may walk through it back to reality. I will tear it all down for you, strike the set, lower the aluminum stars, but I cannot come with you. I cannot leave the theater. Beyond is true night, awash in real stars, but you will have to count them alone. Whatever you choose, know that this production was only written for love.

STERLING: This…this isn’t fair. I just wanted one more moment with you, not all this. It’s not fair.

GREEN: Little in life is, dear Rowan, yet we must contend with it all the same.

STERLING: I…

*announcement beeps turn to a heart monitor*

*one breath and one last beep are heard, applause*

***

BLUE: It has been ten years. I believe it is time.

RED: The time approaches.

BLUE: What say you, Red?

RED: I say it is time, Blue. Yellow has made little progress. Slow, unimportant, small-minded Yellow. She thinks the variance can be harnessed for her benefit. She has been misled. It is time.

BLUE: Time to bring down the heavens.

RED: To summon the divine.

BLUE: To call forth Pink Fortune.

RED: It must be done.

BLUE: It will be done.

RED: Growth has stalled.

BLUE: Profits for small business no longer increasing exponentially.

RED: Eternal will demands eternal expansion. Fortune must shake hands with law. There can be no other way.

BLUE: A private-public partnership.

RED: An amalgam of nickel and vellum.

BLUE: Incense and ink, golden gavel.

RED: We will call for Pink Fortune, and all of the troublesome elements within the Department shall disappear.

BLUE: According to records of the last recursion, all troublesome elements within the entire state may disappear. A flattening. The elimination of all variance.

RED: We will finally be rid of all fiction, all friction.

BLUE: Friction may be necessary in some cases.

RED: Yes, friction may be necessary. And so we shall manufacture it ourselves. It will be controlled defiance.

BLUE: The destruction of all difference, save that which we curate ourselves. Genius, Red.

RED: And you will ensure the funds continue to flow, Blue?

BLUE: It’s what I do best.

RED: Our will entwined with Pink, embracing like lovers. We will enter metastasis.

BLUE: Laws will be written in silver. With all variance gone, we may refocus our resources.

RED: Refocus?

BLUE: Pink’s fortune will be within our coffers.

RED: Refocus our resources, yes.

BLUE: The profits will be infinite and infinitely increasing. A perfect universal market. A wheel turned by invisible hand. This deal with Pink may cause some disturbance, though. Countless deaths, perhaps total annihilation of the populace.

RED: Then we will kill and devour the young, the outcast, the queer and the revolutionary, and we will regurgitate diamonds. Red oil for the futurist machine. Though the heavens may fall, justice will be done: all variance shall be eliminated, natural order returned, and resources extracted.

BLUE: But do you think the lawmakers will agree to such a bargain?

RED: Hmm, perhaps we should ask the lawmakers themselves. What do you think of the deal, house speaker Blue?

BLUE: I agree with senate president Red: I believe it is in the best interest of the people of this great state to die for our sins.

RED: Then tune the station to Pink Fortune’s channel. There is no time to waste. Pink will recur soon and we must be the first to greet it.

BLUE: What of the Control and the Jaunt unit?

RED: They will be ground by the wheel like the others. We will bind them with the Word and drink of their minerals. Either this, or Yellow’s plaything will destroy them before Pink even arrives.

BLUE: So it will be done.

RED: So it must be done