little help
patreon
Chapter 161: Invent More
🕑 Added 2024-08-29 14:27:40 +0000 UTCCN: Discussion of Death of a Loved One
Invent One tried, for the fifteenth time, to play the melody of Dema’s volcano song, but finally stopped with a disgruntled but held-back moan. It looked at its hands — the skin was peeling, the strings had left deep cuts.
“I apologise. I read several books on the topic, but this Shadow is not following my wishes.”
Dema tilted her head. “Well, you don’t learn to play by reading, right? You gotta practise. And you’re doing great on that front!”
Invent One looked up at Dema, its blonde hair waving in the breeze of an open window. “It seems somewhat unwieldy that your bodies need repetition to learn.”
Dema’s eyes hushed over to Theora, scratching the side of her head, laying her bass down. “Well, Theora didn’t really need repetition, so I figured you might not either, since you’re both not really…”
“Human?” Serim asked with a sour expression.
“Well, I don’t wanna pass judgement on that,” Dema said hesitantly. “But like, I thought you were similar, I guess.”
Invent One’s gaze swung over. “Then, how do you do it? Teach me.”
Theora’s cheeks got hot. “I’m not sure. I just looked at the way Dema did it, and did it myself. When I want to improvise, I count the swings in the waves to match or mismatch the harmonic series, depending on the flavour of the song at that moment.”
Invent One stared down at the instrument. “Really? You can count frequencies in your Shadow?”
“Well, technically we all can,” Serim added, “At least, if we learn perfect pitch. But I assume Theora does it a bit differently. Like, the complete other way around. To her, notes sounded like gibberish and she had to count the frequencies hitting her body for music to make sense to her.” She smiled wryly. “That said, I don’t think she’s a good example to go by, even for you.”
At some point, Dema and Serim started discussing that very new song — ‘Unique Little Downers’ — and as far as Theora understood, they argued about whether the bass should play the rhythm to give the song a steady core, or whether it should play a melody to go with the ‘downer’ theme, since it was the lowest instrument.
Neither Invent One nor Theora could really help with that. Instead, Theora’s thoughts kept going back to the snow. ‘Red in Snow, Overflow’.
The winds were howling through the creases in Serim’s house, aching with age. And the storms were getting stronger. That blizzard came late, but it had knocked over a few trees in town. Eventually, her gaze went over to Invent One. “Your ‘read-only access’. Does it mean you can find things out about the world?”
“I can direct my larger self to observe this reality. With that, I am able to retrieve information, yes.”
“Could you come with me for a moment?” Theora then asked, and when her question interrupted Dema and Serim, she added, “Just for ten or twenty minutes. We would be right back.”
Serim and her roommates were squatting here, so asking professionals to take a look at the structure was difficult. But, perhaps IO could identify potential flaws in the structure? It wasn’t like Theora could even fix anything; she wasn’t a carpenter.
It was the first time she and IO were spending time alone, and while that didn’t make Theora nervous, it did instil some curiosity as to what Invent One would start talking about in her presence. It turned out, initially, not a lot. Theora was busy anyway, pointing to rafter after rafter and tapping against the walls, to make Invent One check them out. Invent One would then close its eyes and spout out an answer a few seconds later.
“It appears this wall has been weakened,” it said at some point when they were inspecting the backside of the building. It pointed to the row of windows. “I believe these were not initially there. Someone took bricks from the walls to lay them in.”
“Is that a problem?”
“It is a problem insofar as that it creates a structural weakness. It may contribute to a breaking point.”
Theora shifted her weight anxiously from one foot to the other. This answer did not help her at all. Invent One did not seem to notice. Instead, it pointed to the row of windows. “If Dema had her powers, I imagine this would be easy to fix. However, with our abilities limited, I suggest not staying here during a storm.”
Theora sighed.
Having identified the biggest structural weakness, they stood there for a few moments, and Theora was ready to go back inside, sit down on a sofa, and brood and panic.
IO, however, kept staring at the walls, eyes slightly unfocussed. In absence of anything else, Theora noticed its breathing. That was… not the way other people breathed. Invent One seemed to do it purposefully. Seemed to do it consciously. The pattern was too accurate in comparison, like IO had to make itself breathe, to not forget it.
Theora didn’t have it that bad, but it was still relatable. Eventually, Theora took a step back, and IO’s head swivelled to capture her gaze.
It asked, “What will you do afterwards?”
Theora blinked, looking back at the building. Soft prickles went down her back. “After the house collapses?”
Invent One didn’t shake its head, but the blank expression made clear Theora had taken a wrong guess.
Theora tried: “After the band dissolves…?”
Still no change in expression.
Theora gestured around. “After… this? After I found the… Fragment…?”
Invent One specified: “After Dema.”
The question felt like a punch. The fringes of Theora’s vision speckled with black dots. When she caught herself, she asked, “What do you mean?”
Invent One turned to look at the garden; the high snow burying tall grasses, the growing young trees. “I should clarify,” it said. “I am asking for advice.” Theora was unsure how that even connected, and after some silence, Invent One motioned to the wall. “Travelling to different worlds can be dangerous. I had to use a vehicle to get here. Dema was intensely dented on entry.”
Theora nodded slowly.
“There used to be another entity like me. Let’s call it… Invent Two. Or, maybe, Invent Zero.” It considered. “Invent More. Since it was much more than I am. I used to avoid travelling, for I was scared of the worlds that may be. My companion was not. To it, travelling was leisure. One day, it travelled to a place it shouldn’t, and imploded.”
“I’m so sorry,” Theora breathed.
“I gather that was its point. To find a world where it could feel… restricted. I have to assume, however, that it did not anticipate the reaction to be quite so violent and final. I imagine it wanted to find a world that it barely fit in, to find the extent of what it could do, and then return to me. It did not go that way.”
Invent One wetted its lips, gesturing towards the pocket where Theora was storing her phone. “I mentioned before that it used to read poems to me.” Invent One hesitated, then added, “I am speaking in metaphors. It did not literally read to me.”
Theora nodded. “I think I am understanding you.”
Invent One looked at a hand of its body, as it sometimes did when unsure of things. “Attempting to find this poem is a futile task, yet I’m hoping to derive meaning from it. Navigating Shadows is new to me, as are Shadow thoughts. Human Shadow thought patterns of this geographic and temporal specification, to be exact. You understand them despite being different. That is why I wish to ask you for advice. Dema and you are close, and have been for a while. I’d like to understand what you will do when she reaches her conclusion, for I do not know what to do with myself.”
“You’ve seen our past,” Theora murmurs, her mind too blank to make it sound like a question.
IO understood anyway, and nodded.
“Then you must know how she will die.”
Invent One nodded once again. “I have a reasonable guess, based on available data.”
Theora stood there frozen, voice low. “Then you must know.” Her words turned colder. “Must know what I will do.” She took a breath, holding back, composing herself. “There are plenty of beautiful people in this world. Ask them. Share your worries with them. Do not ask advice from monsters.”
Theora flinched. “I apologise,” she added. “I did not mean to speak ill of monsters. There are plenty of wonderful monsters, too.”
Theora found IO staring, and although the change was subtle, it seemed to be surprised. “Very well,” it said, and nodded. “I shall not ask you.”
Theora tried to gentle her expression.
Looking at IO like that, she felt a tiny nudge of a dead memory deep inside the ruins of her mind. IO was like a machine stranded on an ancient planet, trying to fulfil a hopeless task. Perhaps IO just needed a reason. It might never find the poem, but that could be the point. A reason to stay at a place connected to its late companion.
Theora had reasons too. Reasons to get up in the mornings, reasons to laugh. Reasons to go back home. She said, in a low voice, “I cannot give you advice, but for what it might be worth, for what you are already doing — moving forward, without forgetting, looking for joy — you have my admiration.”
Comments
Vorpal Corporal
:(
