Socket 3 - The Legend of Socket Greeny (7 page)

“Why is it a he?”

“He, she… whatever. God is a he, no?
Yes?”

My three warrior pieces, the only remaining
besides my king, surrounded his king piece. I would walk to
victory.

He laughed
at
me. “Where is someone
taking you, wonderboy, huh? Steering you like a ship to where, huh?
That is the question you should investigate. That question you
should be asking and answering. Wrong questions beget wrong
answers.”

My warrior pieces transformed into enormous
serpents with impenetrable scales and dagger teeth. My king piece
slowly moved up behind them.

“I control my own destiny. I am responsible
for my own actions. Are you having difficulty accepting your own
fate, Pike?
You
betrayed us. No one else is at fault for
that.”

“Don’t lecture me.” He spat on his lap. “I
despise this flesh and everyone like it. You like it there in your
skin, wonderboy?”

I took a moment to gather my composure. Pike
was controlling the conversation. He could plant suggestions in a
victim’s mind with a seemingly innocent conversation. Great minds
did not need to overwhelm victims to beat them. Victims of great
minds never even know they’re beat. They never even hear the
swooshing of the guillotine; only feel the pinch of its blade.

Pike sang a song while my king piece climbed
to the sixth level. “Why do you come to see me?” he asked,
unconcerned he would lose.

“I come,” I said, slowly, “because I cannot
accept a world where you live.”

“Oh, that.” He raised a finger and cleared
his throat. His king piece spiked the long sword, its only weapon,
into the board, clearly giving up with no options past the vicious
serpents. “I particularly enjoy that vision, wonderboy. It gives me
reason to live, if you want to know the absolute truth. That one
day, I may be free to murder and pillage and raze this planet,
that-that-that gives me hope there is a god.” He raised his arms up
and gave thanks to the ceiling. “There must be a god, don’t you
think?”

“No god would allow you life.”

“The world needs the devil.”

“Love is the reason the world exists.”

“And evil is its soul-mate.”

“I could end you, Pike.” He felt the power of
my mind slither coldly inside him. With a thought, I could will his
heart to stop. My king paused.

“That would be… suicide.” He struggled to
breathe. “Death to me… there-there would be no reason for you.”

“It would be justice.”

“Are you God?”

“No,” I said. “I’m the judge and jury.”

“Then I want a new trial.”

I removed my mind from him. He only got
pleasure from it, anyway. Any feeling was better than the numb
imprisonment he endlessly experienced. I had all I needed from him.
The game was over, there was no need to finish. Sometimes gut
feelings led to dead-ends. The details of the room began to shrink
as I got up.

“Have a safe trip,” Pike said.

I stopped. The room remained in full detail.
I recalled my last interaction with Pike, found no reason that he
should know about the trip. When I turned, he smiled mischievously,
like a child that sprang a secret.

“How do you know about that?” I penetrated
his mind again, but there were only random thoughts. Pike offered
no resistance to the invasion, relishing the uncomfortable
sensations of his stretching mind. “Tell me, Pike. How do you know
anything?”

“You think-think old Pike is useless, huh?
There are things that… leak in the air, you know.” He waved his
hands like a magician pulling something from space. “Perhaps I know
you better than you know you, wonderboy?”

You never even hear the swooshing of the
guillotine.

“You know, it’s funny,” he said. “If you
think about it, we don’t control anything, really. The universe
tosses us about like an ocean of water. Really, we’re just
driftwood. If you think about it, really. That-that-that’s what I
think.”

“You’re a plague.”

“We remember pain, wonderboy.
Remember
that.
Pain makes us feel
human.
Do you understand? It is
not love that reminds us of who we are, it is pain, it is loss,
it is death.
Humans relish suffering, holding it close to
their heart. They define themselves by the hurt, do you understand,
wonderboy? Do you? We are vulnerable. Pain reminds us of that, that
we exist. It is not love that we remember.”

He lifted his chin, as if to offer his neck.
Pike was repulsed by his own flesh, yet he craved the satisfaction
of his being, his own essence. To feel. To be. He wanted to escape
the misery of his ghostly existence, the separation of his own
self, divided into psychotic elements. He did not see clearly. And
for that, he would always suffer.

“Remembering is not a prerequisite to
humanity,” I said. “It is our presence.”

“But it helps. Otherwise, you are a
goldfish.”

“Without presence, we are computers.”

“Oooo, touché. Memories and presence. Like
milk and cookies, would you say?”

His king had taken a knee with hands folded
atop the jeweled hilt of the long sword. My king reached for the
top square and the serpents opened their daggered mouths to devour
his king. And as they bit down, as my king neared the top, a long
steel tip slid from the top square through my king’s head, impaling
him moments from victory. Somehow, Pike’s king stood victorious at
the top, the serpents left squirming on the ground.

You only feel the pinch of its blade.

“You come with questions,” he said. “I give
you answers.”

He was no longer smiling like the insane, but
for once appeared quite lucid.

“You give me nothing.”

We stared for several moments until a smile
finally broke his face. I called the room to break the connection
and flopped into my chair, no clearer than I was before this
senseless meeting.

“If you see papa Pivot, pass along a message
for me,” Pike said, as the details of his image began to shrink. I
heard him shout one last word from a long ways away, could feel him
smiling when he said, “SHOWTIME!”

Perhaps the Commander was right. He was not
one to toy with.

My office was filled, once again, with the
intricate web of wormholes that infiltrated the universe,
illuminating the blank walls with an electric blue haze. It was a
map to the universe’s roadway system and I was supposed to know it
by now. I sat with my feet propped on the desk.

I just couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t ever
remember how many hours had passed since I left Pike and that was
the first time I could remember ever losing track of time. I always
knew everything, down to the very second, like my mind was a
ticking clock. Now I felt like some insomniac consumed with
work.

Sound familiar?

Back in my old life, before I was aware of my
Paladin-nature, I spent countless nights waiting for my mother to
come home, only to answer her calls that something came up, she was
stuck at work. Sometimes I’d stare at her image when she
video-called, notice the dark rings under her eyes, wondering when
the last time she’d slept. Now it was me.

It wasn’t some trivial distraction that had
me wide awake. I wasn’t even thinking of the wormhole trip or the
strange visions. It was Pike. The guy was a mental master and here
I went and underestimated him. Even in his decrepit state, he knew
how to hit me. He had me so consumed with him, I couldn’t think
straight. Or sleep.

He had answers to something, I could feel it.
But I wasn’t asking the right questions, that’s what he wanted me
to know. I think. Had he become some brat smirking behind his hand
while he watched me step into an obvious trap, milking every second
of joy from my immediate future? Am I walking into it? Is he
leading me there? Is this part of it?

Get a hold of yourself!

I dropped my feet and rubbed at my tired
face. I really needed sleep, this was no way to deal with problems.
But I’d just end up staring at the ceiling. And I couldn’t let this
go.
If I’m going to obsess, may as well stop half-assing
it.

“Show me Pike,” I said.

The maze of wormholes evaporated, leaving a
wide open blank space between my desk and the opposite wall. An
image flickered a few feet in front of me, then materialized into a
solid projection of a figure slumped in a chair. This was simply a
projection of what Pike was doing at that moment. He couldn’t see
me. Didn’t know I was watching.

I paced around the desk. The three minders
solidified in front of me, like immovable objects staring at the
back of Pike’s bald head. Pike was hunched over with his legs
folded under him, swaying back and forth like a mental patient. The
ever-present string of drool jiggled off his lip while he mumbled.
His glasses had fallen off, lying in his lap, exposing the
sightless eyeballs that were filled with red veins.

I knelt in front of him. This is how he spent
his endless days. There was no sleep. No exercise. Just second
after second of the minders frying his mind like a microwave.

Showtime
. What’d he mean by that? Out
of everything he said, that stuck with me, like he knew something
was coming. Something to do with Pivot. Or was he just clever
enough to make me think he did, because there was no way this
secluded madman could know anything.

I paced around the empty office, leisurely
throwing each foot in front of the other while I stared at the
black floor. It was dark at the far end, barely lit by the image of
Pike muttering near my desk.

What makes you believe that’s you?

The space brightened around me as I called up
the vision. Weeds sprouted from the floor between rising boulders.
The rose in Chute’s wrinkled hand. I walked around to look into our
faces. The traces of white hair, thinner and receding, covered most
of my head. How could that not be me? But now he had me wondering.
I looked back at the image of Pike, still wavering. Still
mumbling.

That’s me. End of story. My visions weren’t
wrong.

So does Pike escape?

I waved the image away just as Chute placed
the rose on the enormous charred stump. I was standing in darkness
again, hands clamped behind my back, no more at ease than I was ten
minutes earlier. And Pike still chattering.

“See Chute.”

Chute’s bed materialized in front of me. It
was a live feed from her bedroom. She let me tap into her home’s
security months ago. We started to project images back and forth
like I did when I met my mother, but it was just too impermanent.
We didn’t use it much anymore because we decided if we were going
to talk, it had to be in person. But sometimes, I would call it up
just so I could watch her sleep.

Her head lay softly on the pillow, eyes shut.
Her lower lip fluttered with each exhale. Sometimes I’d watch her
long enough to hear her sleep talk, but there were never words,
just moaning and turning.

I sat on the floor, wishing I could stroke
her hair. All I could do was watch. It was better than nothing. At
least I knew she was safe. I recalled the vision of her attacking
me, more impossible than Pike escaping, even in the most bizarre
alternate reality. She wasn’t capable of that, not with me. Not
with anyone.

So maybe my visions were going off the rails
after all.

“Your visitation rights with Pike have been
revoked.” Spindle was standing by my desk, his red eyelight glowing
in the dark. “The Commander has put a moratorium on your contact
with him until further notice.”

A lock of hair fell over Chute’s face and was
puffing out with each breath. I wanted to move it, all too aware
Spindle was patiently waiting for me. I stood and turned my back,
my steps shuffling a bit. Fatigue filled me like sand. I felt so
heavy.

“I believe it would be prudent for you to get
some rest, Master Socket.”

I was nodding. He was right. I wanted to tell
him I was heading to my bedroom, but stopped in front of Pike,
mesmerized by his repeated movements.

“Why are you watching him?” Spindle asked.
“He should not be of interest.”

I was still nodding like I was stuck in a
trance, transfixed by Pike’s suffering. I could feel Spindle’s
eyelight on me. Finally, I muttered, “Because I don’t if I can
trust my visions.”

“Are you referring to Pike as a free
man?”

Pike jerked in his chair like he heard his
name. His head rolled around and settled. “There’s that,” I said. I
told him about the blackouts and the intensity of the visions that
were nonsensical and unsettling.

“You have not reported these visions, Master
Socket. The Commander will be displeased.”

Pike was back into his moaning rhythm
again.

“I’ll report them,” I said. “It’s just… these
visions are different. They keep drawing me back to him.” I
gestured to Pike. “Somehow, he knows I’m having them. Like he knows
what they mean.”

“That is impossible. He has no means of
contact outside his confinement, and that is precisely why the
Commander forbids you further contact.”

“He knows something, Spindle.” I looked
directly at his eyelight. “I can feel it.”

“Would you like me to schedule an appointment
with the minder psychologist? Perhaps he can unblock subconscious
thoughts that will allow you some understanding of your
situation.”

I looked across the room. Chute rolled over
and settled back into sleep. Maybe he was right, I should get
things checked out. Maybe someone could help me get some clarity.
Or maybe, for once, my future was cloudy. I’d known about things
that were about to happen for too long and now it was bothering me
that I didn’t. Maybe it would be good to be in the present moment
without knowing the future.

I shook my head. Spindle’s eyelight
brightened. He waited for me to respond. I called for the room to
kill the projections. Chute and Pike’s images faded out and the
walls began glowing to keep us out of the dark.