Unlive
The Cold. The Dark. A pulling sensation that threatens to pull my body apart and scatter my mind. Flashing images. A church dazzling in the bright golden sunlight, standing tall and proud over a small town somewhere in the countryside; a desert, parched with a beautiful azure sky staring down at the burnt reds of the life-devoid sand; a wall of ice, the amazing frozen sea stretching from horizon to horizon, wanting nothing and giving only death. Nothing is permanent, nothing is sacred, everything is interchangeable and expendable. There is only movement. The ever-present Cold and Dark suddenly disappear. I feel something, my memory tells me that it is pain, but I’m not so sure, can I trust my memory? I scream…
A room faces me, it seems familiar; it is exactly the same as the one I had been in, a minute? A century? Ago. White walls, white floor, white ceiling, everything is a blinding white and looks like it all flows as a single wall. It confuses my perception of the room, seeming to change right in front of my eyes from four walls with a separate ceiling and floor, to an unbroken white that surrounds me. The only thing that makes me believe that it is a normal room is the faint bloodstain on the floor… Bloodstain?
Something in my head is telling me to be afraid, but why? But this room is different to the one I came from. Something has changed, something that I can’t put my finger on. Only that it is different. I slowly get up from the floor, or is it the ceiling? The same feeling, pain? Making things difficult. As a crawl over to a table I realize that it isn’t made of any substance that I know, or so my memory tells me. Was there a table in the other room? My memory doesn’t know. The table is a hard yet flexible material, which can be bent in unusual shapes and then flex straight back into its original figure.
Where am I? Another more pressing question floats across my conscience; who am I? And then another, odder thought; what am I? My memory is still not to be trusted. It tells me that I—
I scream. The Pull is back. The room around me dissolves. The Dark. The Cold. I scream again, but no sound comes out. More flashing images; a bright light spread over a large area, my eyes adjust and I realize that it is actually lots of little lights together, a city my memory tells me; a forest, every tree seems to be an exact replica of the previous, nothing is unique, there is nothing to distinguish the endless green; a wasteland, the dark, burnt soil leaves no room for life-giving plants, and as a result the cursed land is slowly spreading further and further away from the centre. Pain lances through my head, it feels like a small explosion has destroyed the connections in my… DEATH IS ENEVITABLE! 2 + 2 = infinity. Bananas are a great source of potassium. CAPTAIN COOK FIRST DISCOVERED AUSTRALIA. I don’t want to go to school Mum, why are you hitting me? STOP IT! It Hurts! Brightness…
“Test subject has returned”, says a robotic voice through the speaker system. Dr. Novikov and I exchange looks of hope. Had the experiment been successful? Was inter-dimensional travel possible? Could it be that we, the outcasts of—
“Come along Dr. Krasnikov,” Dr. Novikov calls, cutting across my train of thought, “There is much to do.” He walks swiftly away from the computer bank I’m sitting in front of, towards the door. He stops just before it and waits for the facial recognition software to allow him to place a bead of his saliva on a gel pad next to the door. The computer checks the DNA sample given, to that of Dr. Novikov and, finding a match, lets him through the six-inch thick, reinforced steel door. It closes quickly behind him.
I get up from the computer bank and move towards the door, following the same procedure as Dr. Novikov, also gaining access to the adjoining room. What an arrogant, pompous, little man. He swans around this lab like he owns the place, but I was the one who funded it! I was the one who had the experimental knowledge to undertake this project. I am the man wanted by FSB, not him! They think that he’s dead! I should be the first to see how test subject faired, not him! I was the one that was dragged along by this idiot, out of the Russian Space Program, for going against their precious ‘code of conduct’! How can science move forward without a bit of risk? I groan inwardly. Why can the world not give me some small sense of triumph? I bury my feelings deep inside myself. There will be time for that later, but now I must be the bumbling assistant once again. My face takes on the icy mask of feigned calm that I had perfected over the past six and a half years. I step through the threshold into the test chamber.
The room I enter is sparse and small; four by four metres. There is no furniture, no carpet, no light fittings; only four walls, a ceiling and a floor, all in a brilliant, dazzling white. But if someone were to look more closely at the structure, they would be able to see the tiny intricate patterns, like that of a microchip, covering every square millimetre. This is our secret to inter-dimensional travel; this is the brainchild of Dr. Novikov and myself. A small, round circle on the floor has no markings on it whatsoever; this is where the subjects go. But I can’t see the circle at the moment, because the test subject is occupying it.
“Well how has it gone?” I find myself asking, “Has it been a success?” The words tumble from my lips. I find that I am holding my breath, waiting for a response.
Dr. Novikov bends down to examine the subject, who seems to be dead. He checks its pulse and other vitals. “The subject has survived, if that is what you mean Doctor, but I doubt it will be able to tell you or I anything of use. It’s in a deep coma.” He turns away from the subject and looks at me, an angry hue stealing over his face. “You said that you had double-checked your equations and the formula! It was supposed to arrive back here with a possible physical disfigurement, but still be of sound mind so that it could tell us what it—”
Suddenly the ‘comatose’ test subject arched its back and blindly started to windmill its arms. One of them connected with Dr. Novikov’s leg and he is brought crashing to the floor. Immediately the subject begins to pull itself closer to the helpless Doctor, trying to attack him with all its strength. It calls out incoherent bits and pieces of information, mashing them together. I stand looking at the conflict in shock; only a few seconds ago the subject looked so close to death, and now it is trying to kill my colleague. The test subject continues it’s attack, punching, kicking, scratching; doing anything that will cause harm. Dr. Novikov strikes back with a sucker punch to its face, but his assailant doesn’t seem to feel any pain. It doesn’t seem to feel anything. Taking Novikov’s stunned pause as an opportunity, it sinks its teeth into the Doctor’s arm. A muffled yet, triumphant, hysterical laugh, escapes from the subject’s mouth. The Doctor shouts out in pain, blood spurting from the gash and seems to pull into himself, planning, or remembering.
I try to rally myself, preparing to help, but before I can even move my colleague calls out, “Computer, terminate test subject. Passcode; alpha, beta, alpha, theo.” As soon as the computer hears the passcode for the command, its arm whirls into action and with a carefully aimed jab, injects the subject with a lethal concoction of LD-50, Cyanide and Potassium Chloride. The subject stops moving almost instantly.
Dr. Novikov disentangles himself from the corpse and slowly gets to his feet. He is shaking, though whether from shock or anger, I’m not quite sure. He doesn’t face me; he stares hard at the bright red blood, dripping sluggishly from the wound in his arm. He moves his gaze over the rest of the room and watches the blood slide down the white, non-stick walls, forming a small pool at his feet. Finally, he looks up at me.
“Thanks for the help,” he says, bitterness colouring his every word, “You really saved me with your quick wittedness.” His remarks cut deep; not only had I just stood there, but my pause could have cost Novikov his life. But I won’t let my hurt show! He will not get the satisfaction of knowing just how much pain he caused me! “Now, if you don’t mind,” He continues, looking at me with cold contempt, “I would like to bandage my arm. I, for one, am not going to just stand here letting things get worse.” He attempts to reach for the door. I hold out my arm to bar his way.
“I don’t think so,” I say, my previous, icy anger rising to the surface like the lava of a volcano. This man, this creature has pushed me around this lab for the past six and half years. No more will I let him. He thinks that he is in charge of this operation, but that’s about to change. He thinks I’ve been using the computer bank to triple check my calculations, but this is not the case. Now is time to put my plan into action.
“What do you mean, ‘I don’t think so!?’ Dr. Novikov breathes, no more than a whisper, “You will move over before I instruct the computer to move you for me!” He looks smug as he plays his calling card. Only he can control the computers voice activation system, or so he thinks.
I punch him in the face. He goes flying into the back wall. I look at him with calculating eyes, “Go on,” I urge, “Make me move.” I hope my programming skills haven’t failed me.
“Computer, remove this intruder from the premises,” Dr. Novikov says, fury making his words run into each other slightly, “He is to be kept in isolation with the recently deceased test subject for a week. Only give him water. Passcode; zeta, lota, delta, alpha.”
Nothing happens.
I look at him, an evil smile on my face, “Aww, is your precious computer not working? I wonder why?” I put on my best mock innocent expression, “What could cause the computer to ignore your commands? Could it be that someone has tampered with it?”
Novikov looks at me shocked. “Computer, respond!” He seems to be severely shaken. Well with what I am about to do to him… he should be.
The computer speaks, “What do you require?” It’s odd robotic voice echoing around the small test chamber.
“Computer, put Dr. Krasnikov in isolation. Passcode; zeta, lota, delta, alpha!” Novikov voice cracks and warbles with fear.
“I cannot do that,” the computer replies, “He is above the consequences of any orders issued to me. He is my master, and therefore cannot be harmed by anyone while I am operational.” Such a statement warms my heart. My dear colleague seems to be struck dumb and motionless. He stares motionlessly at me, a growing fear appearing in his eyes. He knows what is happening, or more to the point, what I can do to him.
I decide that Novikov will need some form of example of my total dominion, to fully understand the power I have over him, “Computer, bind Dr. Novikov. Now!” Arms appear out of the walls, thin, yet strong cord held in the tiny metal fingers. They wrap Novikov’s limb up faster than the eye can follow, and then disappear just as quickly. In 1.324 seconds, Novikov is helplessly lying face-up in front of me.
“It so much simpler without needed to memorise passcodes, don’t you think?” I say bending down so my face is inches from his, speaking matter-of-factly as if in a normal conversation. I allow the anger and resentment I feel to colour my words, “Now you will pay for all that you have done to me! Now you will see for yourself what we are researching!” My voice drops to a whisper, “Now you will travel through dimensions. Never to return. Enjoy,” I get up and walk over to the door, stop and turn back, “I hope that you endure as much pain and suffering as you have made me endure.” I see the terror in his eyes, the tightness through his shoulders, and feel pity– No! Think of what he did to you! Remember the pain, the torture, six and a half years worth. I turn away quickly, walk through the door and order the computer to commence subject travel countdown.
10 seconds later, Dr. Novikov has gone.
Warmth, like a summer day. Light, bright and cheerful. Images flash in front of my eyes; meadows, calm forests, tranquil seas, breath-taking oasis’s, colourful fields. They go on and on and on. So, this is what it feels like. Why did the test subject go insane? This is a wonderful experience—
Coldness, like a knife, slips into my lungs. Darkness, like a blanket, covers my vision. The images change from happy, picaresque scenes, to those of a maniac’s nightmare. I start to lose myself. Bits of my conscience are drifting away. I can feel them. I know that I will be in this hell until I cross over, though how long that’ll take I have no—
What was I thinking? I can’t remember—PAIN! Overwhelming pain! I can’t concentrate anymore, I can only think about the pain— NO! I must stay rational. I must hold onto a thought, anything, just to block the pain. My name! What was my name? What was my name!? Doctor… something. If I think— PAIN! Oh God! The pain! Name. Name…
I struggle to put my sanity-saving sentence together. It seems to take an age, but after only a few seconds, I have it firmly fixed in my mind and begin to repeat it over and over.
I am Doctor Novikov. And I will survive.
Written by Matt Alden
Year 11
- in response to exploration of Future Worlds
