Before Heaven

Chapter 14

XIII

The day the simulation started.

I was bedridden for most of the day, but talk was rampant among the Nest. Something had happened to Jenny. I'd overheard that it had been an escape attempt. It was stupid and poorly thought-out, though; Jenny made too much noise for her own good and Ash had found her. What happened next was confidential, but Jenny was taken to solitary confinement until the time came to put her neurochip in. Whatever the case, nobody except the supervisors were allowed to know what had happened to Jenny, and none of them seemed too pleased about it. The one time I saw Harlow comment on it, there was a noticeable pang of remorse in his voice and on his face. All this time, I'd thought Harlow had just been some grubby little sociopath who didn't care anything for the applicants, whatsoever. Harlow's face and voice had betrayed some genuine level of horror, though. I'd been in bed the entire time, for days on end, for the last part of pre-simulation. The churning pain in my gut eventually died down to an annoying nibble at my sternum, and I'd found that between constant rounds to the bathroom and about nineteen hours of sleep a day, I really was doing better than I thought I would. I received little more than yogurt and fruit to eat. I didn't complain.

My mind had done a lot to occupy itself in the time I'd been out. Before Alice had tried to strangle me to death, I'd mainly just been focused on mellowing out the godawful pain within me. It probably was arsenic – God alone knew how Alice was able to even procure that, let alone sneak it in. After Alice's attempted murder, I found the pain in my stomach conveniently started to bubble down, as if it had climaxed at the moment of my imminent death and simply retired when I'd refused to die. My mind had refocused on Alice and Jenny. Impossible as it was to say, I didn't hold any measure of resent towards Alice. There were even still a few lingering sentiments of friendship I consciously told myself was pure instinct at this rate. I was terrified, though. I kept thinking back to that smile on their face as their hands wrapped around my windpipe, the complete lack of any real person behind their eyes. They say eyes are windows to the soul. When I peered through Alice's, I saw nothing. I still barely knew what motivated Alice to do what they did, even though I'd memorized the conversation we'd had on that night word-for-word. The most I could gloss was boredom. Whatever the case, I'd realized that whatever spark of friendship I'd cultivated with Alice was an illusion. Every laugh they'd given, every empathetic word, every conversation, joke, and moment of mutual affection we'd ever shared was all completely hollow. Alice had me ensnared in their web for a long time.

That dream I'd had was becoming all the more haunting, now. I still remembered Alice's demonic face.

Jenny was the other topic that fluttered in and out of my mind. Jenny had been everything Alice wasn't; genuinely supportive and actually empathetic to everything I felt and said. A true, honest friend. Alice had been projecting that image and they'd almost perfectly replicated it, but unfortunately, they'd decided to break the illusion at the last moment. Jenny hadn't. The last I'd seen her, she was panicking over my body as I drifted into a pain-induced unconsciousness in the brush of the Solomon islands. Alice really hadn't cared. Jenny had. I wanted to give her proper goodbyes, but unfortunately, it seemed that wasn't going to happen. The moment I'd overheard something had happened to her the morning after Alice had tried to strangle me, I'd panicked and I hadn't stopped panicking. What had happened? What was so horrifying that Red Clover was actively covering it up? I didn't want to think about the possibilities, because my mind dreamed up feverish, painful pictures of a worst-case scenario for Jenny that hurt to think about. She'd bumped into Ash, after all. What was that lunatic capable of?

My mind had kept me company during my stay in bed. Eventually, though, on the morning of the Friday that ended pre-simulation, at the end of the eighth week, Harlow opened the door to the nursing room I'd been placed in. I'd gotten a bit more detail on my surroundings the further I'd gathered consciousness; it was a rather cheap side room built into one of the lower floors in the Nest. The walls were a drab gray, the bed I was on with only a few shitty, almost papery sheets on it to keep me warm by the right wall. There was a bathroom with a flickering, faulty at the left end of the room, right by the door that led to the outside, and a shelf and cupboard adjacent to the bed stacked with medical supplies, bandage, and a shitload of hand sanitizer. The room smelled of shampoo and latex gloves, smells I'd grown quite weary of. At seven-o'clock, when Harlow entered the room, a flood of light hit my eyes again and I recoiled into the sheets a bit more. They weren't comfortable, but they gave some minute comfort from the sight of Harlow's form. I always dreaded his appearances.

Harlow approached me, a stern look on his face, a rippling white coat on and purple latex gloves around his hands. "Good morning, #21," he finally remarked.

I gave him my typical glare. "Enough, Dr. Grave," I barked. "Jackson. Call me Jackson, for Christ's sake. I'm not a goddamned number."

Harlow didn't follow this up with a contemptuous laugh, as he was keen to. "Yes, Jackson. You've been feeling better?"

I shrugged. "I don't feel like I'm poisoned any more."

"You were lucky there was only so much of the poison in your system," Harlow said, observing his own gloved hand. "If it was arsenic like we suspect it to be, your symptoms should have lasted much longer. You heal extraordinarily well."

I sighed, sitting up out of the sheets. They crinkled a bit under me. "Maybe I take it from Mom. Considering all those horrible interviews she attended, she's bound to have caught some sort of disease from the interviewers and fought them off. Strong immune system, you know."

There was the laugh. Deprived of any real joy. It was almost like Harlow was forcing it. "Yes. Well, anyways, your condition bodes well. You'll be able to participate in the program now, as you signed up for."

I looked down. I wasn't even angry Harlow was once again insinuating I'd signed up for this. I've given up being angry; at the system, at Red Clover, and at my parents. It wasn't worth it anymore. I'd have some choice words for Mom and Dad when I got home, though. That would be the one thing I'd change.

"Dr. Grave, be honest with me for a second," I said, prompting Harlow's gaze off his glove and to me. "Did you actually listen to any word I said during our initial interviews? Did you listen to any of the candidates?"

"Why, of course," Harlow said, without missing a beat. "Naturally, your opinions are worth-"

"Are they really, though?" I interrupted, silencing Harlow. "All you've been is contemptuous and ignorant of us, Dr. Grave. Tell me, if that's how you feel... why even help supervise this experiment at all?"

Harlow was quiet for a moment. Then he gave a quiet, raspy sigh and looked up. "Because I believe in a greater cause, Mr. Winters. I truly do believe this experiment – however risky it might be – is the step in the right direction for all mankind."

"...And we're all just tools for that end, aren't we?" I remarked.

Harlow was silent.

"...Tell me," I said, after a bit of pause. "What happened to Jenny, specifically?"

Harlow shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't disclose that, for now-" –and there was that look of remorse– "-but rest assured, it's... of no concern. She's quite alright, Mr. Winters. She just needs some time to rest. She'll be participating in the simulation all the same."

My concerns weren't dispelled at all. "And Alice?"

"In solitary confinement," Harlow replied. "We considered booting them off the project after their little stunt, but we're too far in now. There's nothing we can do to them."

I glared at Harlow a little more harshly. "So that's it?" I said. "They get off scot-free? No punishment? No prosecution? Not even a cut to their reward money?"

Harlow grimly shook his head. "Nothing. Alice will participate in the simulation, get their money, and then we'll send them off to crawl back to whatever Canadian suburb they originated from. Nothing we can legally do them after that."

I was quiet for a second. That genuinely made me feel a little angry. Finally, I spoke up. "...I don't know whether I should hate you for being the exact face of everything wrong with the Association, or pity you for the exact same reason, Dr. Grave."

Once more, Harlow was silent.

Harlow left me to my own devices shortly after and I was allowed to return to my own room. Every applicant was required to go through surgery to implement neurochips into our skulls; it had something to do with "controlled amnesia" that would allow us to exist in a comfortable state in Paradise. The neurochips would also supposedly protect us from the energies of Heaven; how that would be accomplished Red Clover refused to elaborate on. To my pleasure, I found all my belongings exactly as I'd left them in my room. I did a routine checkup on my computer to look up my parents' names. Nothing recent. I figured Red Clover wouldn't bother revealing that I'd nearly been killed in pre-simulation and any attempt to bring it up to my parents would result in a cold dismissal. Thus was the struggle of being fourteen years old and having an opinion nobody cared about. I left to the cafeteria shortly after. To my surprise, only four of the usual people were there; Billy, Leliah (who'd accompanied Billy here since they started associating), Arno, and Ken. They were all in their usual places. Leliah in particular looked rather somber, for once, her normally smug, slimy expression fractured into a portrait of frailty and shock. I don't know why she looked like that and I couldn't muster any educated guesses either. Neither her or Billy said a word. Arno and Ken were in their usual places, and as expected, Arno's gaze shifted right to me as I walked into the cafeteria. I sincerely didn't know what to think of him, honestly. He'd pestered me just about every time I'd come into the cafeteria, but his questions were benign at best and pointless at worst. He wasn't necessarily intimidating or rude. He was just weird and I hadn't found a way to properly communicate with him yet. I was surprised for all of a second that Alice wasn't sitting at the table.

Memories swamped me. Alice waving happily at me with a thing of sugared-up latte or chocolate milk in their other hand, their face wide-eyed, innocent, and inviting. Even now, without the presence of Alice, I could still see them there perfectly; the motion of their hand, the shape of their smile, everything. Every single moment of our friendship had been a lie. I found myself tearing up as I took a seat.

The betrayal still hurt. It would for a long while.

I didn't bother walking up to the counter to get anything to eat. The feeling of the poison was mostly gone scratch the trace feeling of nausea, but I wasn't particularly hungry either. I figured it was just the rather heavy wave of depression that had come over me. It felt so weird not talking to Alice here like I had for two months, kind of like a puzzle with a missing piece here or there. Both they and Jenny were gone, for now.

Would I meet either of them again during the simulation?

I suddenly became aware of a presence beside me. A bit startled, I looked up. It was Arno. Ken was by his side, but bizarrely enough, he wasn't recoiling behind Arno like he usually was. He stared at me with a morose expression I'd never seen or imagined on him before. Arno towered over me, his face both compassionate and detached at the same time. The next move he made I didn't expect whatsoever; Arno, with no indication, suddenly sat down beside me and slid a bit down. I slid further down the bench, near the wall, as Ken took a seat on the opposite side of the table. They'd cornered me. At the same time, I sensed no ill intent – although, considering how easily Alice had tricked me, I don't know if I was exactly the best at figuring out people's intentions. I looked at Arno, who was boring down at me with an expression heavier than a boulder. He sort of reminded me of the Jewish interpretation of the golem; a hulking, gentle protector forged from some powerful, unbreakable, earthen substance. Arno had a powerful feel to him I couldn't quite put my finger on. Neither him or Ken spoke a word, and, my lip trembling a bit in confusion, I spoke up.

"...Yes?" I finally said. Silence for a bit further. Then Arno indicated to the opposite side of the table, where Alice would often sit and who's place Ken was now taking.

"A-A-Al-lice,' he stuttered out, simply.

I sighed, now feeling more down in the dumps than I had before. "Yeah. They're not around anymore. I don't want to talk about it."

Arno seemed to silently consider something, then put a giant, trunk-like arm on my shoulder. I looked up at Arno's face, which was surprisingly sympathetic.

"I kn-kn-knew," he said, shakily. "A-Al... A-Always. Th-Their eyes, W-W-Winters – e-ev-v-vil eyes."

I frowned. "You're a better mind-reader than me, then." I kicked out my foot and looked down, resting both arms on the table. "It hurts, Arno. It hurts to have someone you put all your trust into suddenly betray that trust and use it against you. I... I was an idiot."

Arno shook his head. "N-No, W-Winters. Not id-d-diot. J-Just... y-you."

I looked up. I didn't understand.

"W-We... a-all l-l-like each-ch oth-th-ther," Arno said, in some attempt to explain. "We t-tr-trust e-each o-o-other. S-Simple n-n-n... n-nature of p-people."

"And Alice exploited that nature, Arno," I said, quietly. "What am I supposed to do about that?"

"...M-M-Move on. Th-That is a-a-all," Arno said.

I looked back up at Arno.

"Y-You are y-y-you. I am... m-m-me. A-Alice c-c-cannot u-underst-stand th-that we... are p-people. Th-They exp-pect you b-b-break aft-t-ter... o-one b-b-betrayal?"

I considered his words.

"Y-You st-strong, J-Jackson. I am st-strong t-too. Th-That is b-b-bec-cause we can ch-change, W-Winters. M-Move on. A-Alice is w-w-weak b-b-because th-they c-c-cannot und-d-derstand w-we can d-do that. I s-see m-many th-things in A-Alice's eyes, W-W-Winters. B-But a pe-person is n-not... o-o-one of th-them. S-So A-Alice d-d-does n-not ch-change. W-We do."

"...The pain will remain, though," I said, somewhat bitterly.

Arno nodded. "B-But you w-w-will m-move on, W-W-Winters. Th-That is y-y-your – our – st-strength."

I sighed. Everything was destined to change, after all; that had been the point of what I was trying to say to Alice and that rebelling against that was a fruitless affair. With Arno's words in mind, I understood in greater clarity why Alice has reacted as apathetically as they'd done. Alice, by whatever means, physically couldn't comprehend the notion that we were all destined to change. Alice's nature – a manipulative sociopath, as I now understood – was immutable. They'd never truly learn to change and they'd never understand how I would be able to overcome the pain they'd given me.

That was my victory against Alice. It would take a while – a damn long while – to get over it. The pain would always be there. But Alice hadn't ruined me as they were planning to. They'd hurt me, but the wound, ultimately, would heal – as would all others.

"...Thank you, Arno," I finally said, my face softening up a bit. "Have you... like, known this sort of situation before?"

Arno seemed to consider a bit. "S-Somet-t-times," he replied, quietly. "E-Enough t-to... und-d-derst-stand th-this."

I nodded to myself. Arno and I were quiet for a few seconds before Ken shuffled back over to Arno and whispered in his ear. As I looked at the two in confusion, a weird grin spread across Arno's face as he and Ken looked down at me. Arno signaled to Ken, as if introducing me to him for the first time.

"Y-You're... W-W-Winters. J-Jackson W-Winters," Arno said, using my full name for the first time. He looked back at Ken. "K-Ken. B-B-Big f-fan."

A gentle smirk came across my face. "As I've learned."

Arno felt the conversation was picking up a familiar note, so he leaned a bit further down and clarified himself. "F-Fan of y-y-you, W-Winters."

I looked at Ken for a second. Though he continued not to say anything, he had a dorky, endearing smile on his face, his cheeks a bit rosy.

I smiled back. I felt proud of myself as a person. I felt proud of slogging through the neglect of my parents and the endeavor that was pre-simulation. I felt happy that I'd gotten to know Jenny as well as I'd done and played a part in their journey as a person. I felt confident to tackle the simulation with a new measure of gusto and to confront my d**k-ass parents afterwards. I was looking forwards to everything the mysterious future ahead had in store for me. I was even glad I'd been manipulated by Alice; in its own way, it was a learning experience. Pre-simulation had been the weirdest and simultaneously the most powerful eight weeks of my life. I'd known confusion, fear, and pain. I'd been on the cusp of death. I'd known happiness, humor, and ambition. I'd had my spirit renewed to tackle all of life's further challenges. In the single second I took to observe myself, only one thing mattered to me. I was myself. I was proud to be myself.

I was proud to be Jackson Winters.