I woke up in my sister's arms, or so it felt, until Cinders turned her face to mine, sleepily. "What happened then, baby?" she asked.
"I don't know."
"I felt like I was somebody else."
You were. Well, kind of. Partly. Halfway. I didn't have the words to tell her what I was feeling.
"Felt good," she said, but I didn't feel any pride, or anything. Because I knew that Desdemona was in there, somewhere, using the Vurt in Cinders to get to me.
"This is just a one-off?" Cinders asked.
"I think so."
"You've got other things to do?"
"Some." And I told her about my sister and how I was trying to get her back. And all about the obstacles in my way. And then Lucinda said this, and it killed me, "Maybe you could swap me back?"
What could I do to answer that?
"I've got the Vurt in me," she said. "I think I've got the worth. Enough to satisfy Hobart. Let's do it. This life tires me."
I was dumbstruck.
"No. No, it cannot happen." I actually said that. Cinders meant too much to me. Even if I never saw her again. Too much.
Her eyes were closing on the world, and when she spoke, it was from far down inside the dream, "Find what you want."
"I'm trying to."
"Keep the faith…" Her last words before sleep.
I climbed naked out of the Catholic bed, trying to find my scattered clothes in the grey light. Through the bedroom window I could see the moon shining through a ribbon of clouds. Maybe it was too late. I picked up my jacket and pulled the silver feather from the inside pocket. I took a last look down at Cinders.
What was I doing, leaving this woman?
I checked the time from the flower clock and then pushed the feather deep, between my lips.
Going silver.
Falling…
Hit by darkness…
What…
Nothing here…
I'm…
Darkness…
Nothing here…
There's nothing here! For fuck's sake!!!
Darkness…
Falling…
I'm not here. There's not even me here. Just the thought that I might be here. I think. Or don't think. No, don't stop thinking, Scribble! Because then even you won't be here any more. Don't stop thinking…
No. Not falling, floating…
In the darkness…
Where the fuck am I?
You're here, thinking about here…
Keep thinking…
But who's doing the thinking for me…
You are, Scribble…
Right…
Who's Scribble…
You are…
Right…
Get me out of here!!!
Darkness…
A single star of light… up ahead… where's up… where's ahead… where is my head… this is my head… and the star's inside my head…
Twinkle, twinkle… little star… how I wonder what you are…
The little silver star was writing letters in the night… in my head… just like…
What was it like?
Right…
Silver star…
Just like a cursor… that's it… I'm in a feather…
I am a feather…
The silver star is scrolling…
1. EDIT
2. CLONE
3. HELP
4. DOOR
5. MAP
I'm thinking about the number four…
Four for a door… remember that…
Why… just remember it…
1. BLUE
2. BLACK
3. PINK
5. LIFE
6. CAT
Five is alive… five is alivev remember that…
I'm thinking about the number seven… because I can't resist it…
Why not…
Because of Desdemona…
Who…
I AM SORRY… INSUFFICIENT CODING ACCESS… PLEASE RESELECT…
I'm thinking about the number eight…just for the hell of it…
I AM SORRY… INSUFFICIENT CODING ACCESS… AND ANYWAY HOBART IS IN A MEETING JUST NOW…PLEASE RESELECT… AND STOP WASTING MY TIME…
I'm thinking about the number six…
THAT'S OKAY… LOADING… PLEASE HOLD ON…
What…
Christ!
Falling… falling… really falling now… down through the layers of darkness… more and more stars in the sky as I rush through… silver stars… more and more of them… until the darkness has drained away… and I'm falling like a stone through the silverness… getting my thoughts back… one by one… until I know where I am… and who I am… and where I'm going…
A door opening in the silver…
Through…
Sniffing General was sitting at his desk, pushing something around with his paper-knife. He was a small man, not much hair, thick glasses covering his eyes, and he didn't bother to look up as I came into his office. "You've got a nerve," he said. It was a thin voice, edging towards a whine.
"I want to see the Game Cat."
"I mean, asking to see Hobart. That's ridiculous."
He'd finished with the knife now, and he was gazing down at his desk, almost lovingly. I stepped closer. A line of blue powder on a small shaving mirror, that lay face-up on his desk, and I couldn't tell if he was smiling at the Choke powder, or his own reflection. There was a door in the wood panelling behind him, fitted out with frosted glass. The words Game Cat were etched onto a small brass plate, fixed just below the glass.
"Is he in?" I asked.
"I don't like people wasting my time," he said, rolling up a ten pound note. "Do you think I haven't got work to do?"
"I am a personal friend of the Cat's."
That made him look up. He'd already stuck the note up his left nostril, and what with that, and the thick glasses, it was all I could do not to laugh.
"Oh they all are, they all are," he replied. They all claim to know the Game Cat. None of them do, of course. Only I know the Game Cat." With that, he lowered his head, and sniffed up the line of Choke.
"Tell him that Scribble is here to see him."
The General looked up again, his eyes behind the glasses coming alive now, turned up by the powder. "I've had trouble from you in the past," he said.
"Is that right?"
"Oh yes. Tapewormer, I think it was. I've got the details somewhere." He was shuffling through the piles of paper on his desk. "It was you, wasn't it? Yes. Scribble. That was the name. It's all down here somewhere. You went Meta on that one, into Takshaka. Didn't you hear me calling to you?"
I had done. But I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction.
"Messing about in Takshaka is not recommended. The cops don't like it."
"The cops?"
"Takshaka is a Copvurt. They store all their information there."
"The cops own the King Snake?"
"Well they think they do. Really it's the other way around. Takshaka owns them. But let's keep the cops happy, yes?"
"I just want to see the Game Cat, Sniffing General," I said. "I have an appointment."
"Oh they all do," the General replied. "You wouldn't believe the number of appointments I have to deal with. Of course the Game Cat has never heard of them before. It's all so tiresome. And then there was that other incident, wasn't there?"
"Which one?"