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From: mithryl@walrus.com (Mithryl)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.prose,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.bondage
Subject: CODY: FROSH Chp 7 Manson Hall
Date: 20 Nov 1996 22:09:08 GMT
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Note: The word "fucking" is used extensively throughout this
chapter. Okay? Parts of this chapter have been censored (by Liz).
FROSH
By CODY ANN MICHAELS
c. All Rights Reserved
Chapter 7
Manson Hall
"I have been to places only demons go." -- Medea *
Yeah. New Jersey.
November 18, 1996: How could they? How could it possibly happen?
You have states and a country where politicians literally scream about
illegitimate babies and punishing teenage mothers, and then you wonder why
two rich kids would put their newborn baby in a dumpster? God, you just
can't figure it out, can you? X XXXX XXXX XXXXXXX XXXXXXX!
I know you're not supposed to say things like this, especially on
the internet, but I wish you..., someone ... could ... would take Newt
Gingrich, Christy Todd Whitman, Bill Clinton, George Pataki, Rudy
Guiliani, and about a thousand others back to Nuere mberg and hang them by
the same ropes they used on the Nazis.
You can just imagine how many kids are ending up in dumpsters
because of these fuckers, ones who never get noticed or found. Or who are
starving like Carla Lockwood's daughter because their welfare checks are
being cut off. When are we going to get it through our heads? The people
who are the worst child abusers in history don't need to be reported:
they're on television every night. Making plans to save money. You want
to save money over the birthright of children to be born?
I noticed one of the dorms, I don't know who's, was called Manson
Hall. Yeah. Clinton's is the Manson generation. Clinton ought to get
Charlie out of prison and make him Secretary of Health, Education and
Welfare. But Manson was a humanitarian next t o Clinton. Fucking sickos.
When is someone going to get up and say J'Accuse? That was the
name of Abel Ganz's movie about World War 1. The same as Zola's article
on Dreyfus. Zola wrote that he understood that he was breaking the law in
publishing it. We need to break a lot of laws to get back to where
children know they don't need to murder their kids, where babies aren't
described by some undertaker on the 6:30 news as "unwanted." Bill Clinton
and Newt Gingrich put that stigma on children. They are the true
murderers.
Cody, calm down.
Fucking assholes. I can't stand it.
It doesn't do any good to get mad.
She stood there for a moment staring; and then she just started to
shriek. She just screamed and screamed and screamed. Staggering around
the room, bumping into furniture. Eventually, she stopped.
What is the matter?
I can't do this anymore. I can't make art out of shit. There's
just too much. Isn't anyone awake?
Cody, you have to accept some things. You can't change the world.
I'm not trying to change the world. It's the way the world is
changing that I'm scared of. Why are people being so fucking hateful?
They haven't even arraigned these kids, and already they're salvating over
the death penalty. What kind of fuckers are these? Aren't they fucking
human? The goal of humanity should be to save life, not destroy it. How
can a woman, a woman, goddamn it, get on national television and say she
wants to burn two kids? That is so fucking sick, I want to vomit.
That's her job.
She's a murderer.
Shit. I didn't want to write about this tonight. I was all set
to write about the internet, and how you can tell stories on the net in
ways that were never possible before. Stories at all different levels of
reality. Virtual. Non-virtual. Paleo-vir tual. Pre-nonvirtual. Push
the envelope to the max. Now I'm all upset. I really fucking hope ...
What?
I don't know. I was going to say I hope she dies. But that isn't
it. She's just some mindless fuck of a district attorney. The kids
weren't even from Delaware. They probably won't kill them. They'll
rattle swords. Make it sound terrible. But you never know. Just the
thought is sick. These fucking cowards. They created the atmosphere that
made this happen. Used it. To get elected. Dissed anyone with a shred
of humanity. So the kids exposed the baby. Cracked its skull. Just like
the Sparta ns. Or the Indians. Media. I was watching Media the other
day. Someone's version of it. The actors were wonderful. (NOTE TO
EDITOR: I SPELLED THAT RIGHT. DON'T CHANGE IT!) Media kills her children.
To fuck her lover. Who dumped her. The way med ia kills us now. Because
of her lovers. Her political lovers like Clinton and Whitman. Media will
sleep with any Jason. Just spread your legs, honey. Let me in. And then
Media wails she was betrayed. Her first amendment rights were cut off.
Media is a fucking whore collaborator. I hope I do get in trouble for
this. They'll use him like a woman.
Huh? What? Who?
That kid, when they find him. In prison. He'll end up someone's
wife. So will she. Like Susan Smith. Do you have any idea what Susan
Smith looks like now? After she's been in prison a year? A woman who
killed her two kids? She's open season all y ear round. I saw a
supermarket tabloid last summer that had a picture of her. Whether it was
computer enhanced, I don't know. Two black eyes. A swollen, puffy face.
It was just a head and shoulders shot. But you got the picture. I don't
know why I' m going on like this. I only just saw it on tv. I don't even
know their names. They showed pictures from their yearbook. He was a
soccer captain. They lived in Bergan County.
Aren't you upset at them? For what they did?
Murder doesn't upset me. People do it. What I hate are the
people who make them do it. And then act as if they are so non mea culpa.
Murder is just another act of the human condition.
But so is hypocracy.
I know. I don't know why it makes me so fucking mad. It just
does.
I know why. It's hypocracy that leads to these things happening.
Like the hypocrites at Verseilles. Or the ones who uphold the Holocaust.
Like that's going to save them. On tv tonight, they also showed Israeli
soldiers kicking Arabs in the face with their hands tied behind them.
Some fucking Holocaust. The Jews have become their worst nightmare. Go
on. Arrest me. THE HOLOCAUST IS A FUCKING LIE.
What were you going to write about the internet?
I don't know.
You must have some idea.
I don't have any idea. I never do until I start. And I'm too
upset to think. Something about the internet has many levels. No. I
don't know. Who cares? People are dumb. They just go along. I was
standing on the street corner one day looking down at a big dead bug. And
another bug walked up to it, bounced off, and walked away. And I thought,
we are so different from bugs. Aren't we? I would have noticed if I
stumbled over a corpse. But, lately, I'm not so sure. I mean, seeing a
dead person on the sidewalk would bother me, but on tv? It's just another
show. Or shot. Another picture. Look at this one. Whole, the whole
body is torn in half. And this. Wow, that's great. And here's one of
Levy kicking him in the head. There are three gu ys, Arabs, and a
soldier, sitting in a row. In front of a building. The Arabs sit on the
ground, and the Jew sits on the steps next to them. And then he leans
back and kicks the closest Arab in the head.
Neat?
Boy, thank God for camcorders. You can see the neatest things
nowadays. You know those lettermen must be furious they didn't get to
film the actual dump. When he put the kid in the dumpster. Lettermen.
That's what I call people on tv. The lettermen . ABCNBCCBS. At least
C: B.S. got it right. Yes, I am guilty of a conspircy to think. Sue me.
Kick me in the head like that Arab.
So what would you do? Would you let them go?
Who? The arabs?
No. The kids. The ones who killed their baby. If they did?
Would you just let them go?
Sure. Why not?
Come on. I'm asking. What would you do to them?
I don't know. I'd say it wasn't their fault. The girl's lawyer
said she didn't even know what was going to happen. She'd just had a baby
alone by herself in a motel room. Her boy friend took it. You know, you
aren't in such great shape to think when that happens. You probably have
a lot of weird emotions. I mean, if you're a woman, wouldn't you think a
girl would have some pretty odd sensations in a situation like that? Is
that any time to talk about killing her? Jesus, fucking Christ, this isn'
t Salem. Or is it? Did Hester Prynne die for our sins in vain?>
Hester Prynne was...
A novel. Yes. I know. Don't fuck9ing confuse me. You know what
I'm talking about. This fucking bitch. Do you sell your fucking soul to
get elected? Is that what it takes? Like Faust? Faust sold his soul for
knowledge. These guys do it for a che ap shot on tv. We really have
degenerated.
I wish Charlie Manson would come out of prison and cleanse the
earth. I wish he would do what he came here for. We need someone like
Charlie to lay down the law. Make us human again.
Cody, Charlie Manson was a mass murderer.
So?
So what are you saying? Sharon Tate was pregnant. She begged
them not to kill her child. It happened before you were born. I don't
know how much you know.
I know enough. Never mind. I don't mean it. What I meant was we
need someone who will show us the way. Who no one can stand up to.
You mean like Hitler?
Well, not like that. A good Hitler. Someone like Roosevelt or
Churchill. But then, without Hitler, no one would have ever heard of
Churchill. And Roosevelt would never have succeeded without Stalin. They
were so scared shitless the racist white middle-class would go communist,
they had to let him alone.
Who?
The ones who own us.
Who?
I don't know. The international Jewish conspiracy. Whatever.
Without communism, they can take everything back. Where are we going to
go? Like the New York Post said the other day, "The Party's Over." We're
fucked.
Cody, when you act like this, it's easy to dismiss you as a crazy
person. You're reacting solely on the basis of one tv news item. You
don't know what's happened. What the circumstances are. You should wait
and see. Check your facts. Get your facts strai ght. Go over your
notes. Then organize your thoughts. Then write something that will stand
up in court.
I'll be a fucking old lady.
But this way, you're no better than a lynch mob. You've got to
take your time. Check things out. Find out what...
Will you shut the fuck up.
Okay. I'll stop.
Thank you. I was going to write to P. about the inter... You
know when those kids were murdered in Switzerland, wherever, in the
school. The guy came in and shot them last year. All the fucking
politicians could talk about was gun control and being s hocked and this
and that.... covering their fucking pink behinds; I never heard one say
what it must have been like for the kids, to be one and see that mad
asshole come through the door with his stupid pistols shooting. To get
inside a kid's head; or le t one get inside yours who didn't know he was
dead yet. Was just shot. Didn't know if he was dead or the one next to
him. Which side he was on. This one or that. Inside the womb or out.
Was falling over. His head going down. Someone falling on top of him.
Were we playing? What are we playing? Can't get up. Getting up.
Falling down. Pain in belly. Head bleeding. Why am I sticky? No one
would have said anything. Crying. Wondering whether to cry. Why is that
nice man pointing a gun at me? That's mister creepy. Throwing stones at
his house. bang bang bang you're dead. And Mr. Creepy points his gun
straight back. Bang. You wouldn't hear it go off. If it blew your head
off. But you would get blood all over the little girl next to you who was
lying on the floor. Why don't they talk about that?
Why don't they talk about getting into another person's head, or
letting him into yours? So he can feed you direct with what happened.
What was happening? What is happening now. The male is still running.
There's a warrant out. They'll get him. Th ey'll bring him in. He
fucked her. Maybe she wasn't even his girl. Maybe they didn't love each
other. It was one night nine months ago. March. The baby was born
yesterday. Or the day before. Scorpio. My father's sign. His mother's
a Saggitarius like me. My birthday's November 28. I'll be fourteen.
Equals 5. Equals... Well, check it out. What other number equals five?
You know how to do it.
I am not 41.
Or 50.
The internet?
Oh yeah. The internet gives people the power to tell stories in
ways that were never possible before. Not even in the caves. Well, maybe
the caves. When each animal carried its own weight.
Cody, what are you talking about?
One life comes into this world, and three lives die for it? What
kind of an equation is that? What are we? What have we become? I don't
want to mea culpa in something like that.
The ripples circle outwards. Horrible. Horrible. Tomorrow, the
Times will have stories about the families. This is a Times story. The
Times will twist itself into knots of self-probing on this one. This is
the Times rendition of Amy Fisher. Even n ow the Times vultures are
circling Delaware. And Bergan County, going house to house, picking up
dirt like a Saville Row tailor tweaking a spot of lint off blue serge. I
can feel it in my bones. Which is why I'm writing now. Before I'm
totally contami nated. I won't be able to breathe after I've finished the
Times. So it's best to get it off my chest.
But I'm not entirely adverse to reading what kind of homes these
kids lived in that no one noticed the girl was pregnant, or they were so
afraid to bring home a baby they would do a thing like this. In fact, I'm
rather ravenously curious. As far as I am able to tell, for the past six
months the kids seem to have been surrounded by the walking dead.
Jesus. I saw maybe four or five minutes of tv. Think what I'll
be like tomorrow when I read the real facts. Well, maybe "real facts" is
a contradiction in terms when speaking of the Times. But the real story.
The story as the Times lived it and as t hey wrote it. The way they did
Tawana Bradley, or whatever her name was. Now there was a real Times
hatchet job. Jack the Ripper would salvate to be able to dis kids like
that. They even wrote a fucking book. Just to make sure she was really
dead. T otalled. Zero. Don't even bother to open your mouth or try to
protect yourself for the rest of your life. Those guys make Peckinpah
genteel.
So I can imagine what tomorrow's headlines and those in the days
to come will be like. Layer by layer of old skin and raw flesh will be
laid back, as the fish is dissected on the table. I hate biology class.
They make you do the sickest things. Like dissecting dead babies. Why
should ninth grade home economics majors have to dissect babies you ask?
So we can get a good job when we get out of school. Isn't that obvious?
Would you like to read at our next poetry reading?
Every Thursday is open mike night.
You can read from your novel.
I don't think so.
So you're on the internet. What is it like?
You ought to try it.
I'm going to one of these days.
It's like a disease. It goes from house to house. The internet
is the electronic version of AIDS. It's a game. You play it with other
people. Harlan Ellison invented it. He was on tv the other night. He
said he did. She glanced at the bottles.
Something... Let other people into your head. Do it. There was
enough there for a jolt. Things had turned nasty. This was no longer a
novel. It was an accusation against the highest authoirity But you have
to spell it right.
Otherwords, no concetsststa
this is a typo. Fix it.
i fixed it with whiteout.
it left a smudge.
I tried to erase it.
It got bigger.
I was in a panic.
I didn't want to type it over.
Every treaty had to be exactly correct. Otherwise, it would break. But
treatys are always broken. Not really. You only hear about the ones that
do. Ninety percent of all the treaties ever written are still be observed
to the letter.
So I started to retype the letter, and then she wanted to make changes.
So I said, alright, and I tried to fix it. And Joan said it stood out.
So I did it again. Her face was bleeding by this time. Do you get what I
mean? I said yes, because I didn' t want to be hit anymore. What did you
do with him? I killed him. She tricked him. She was innocent. He let
her lead him astray. She should be punished. This could become
legendary. Two kids from Jersey. They're pregant. How do you know it
was t heir baby? Where is the proof? This is my grandson. They sent him
to his grandmother. His grandmother is dead. The other one. He was
adopted. It wasn't his kid. The one they found. He didn't do it. He
was confused. Mixed up. This isn't even a white baby. See, his
grandmother has him. Cute kid. There's got to be some kind of wiggle
room. I am conducting this investigation. It wasn't her. She didn't do
it. It was the other girl. Sandy. She was the one who had the kid. We
were just help ing. Sally wasn't even pregnant. I couldn't keep them
straight. They looked the same. She said her name was Sally. I mean
Sandy. She had red hair. dirty blonde. She had the kid. I didn't kill
it. It was already dead. I think she smashed his hea d on the table. I
said I'd help her put the boy in the dumpster. I'd just gone out for the
papers when I ran into her. Sal was back at the hotel. I never saw her
before. She was just some chick with a baby. She went back to New York.
I picked up Sa l and took her back to the campus. And then I started for
Gettysburg. Well, now, that puts an entirely different spin on the old
news item. He went to Gettysburg. Whole lot of history going on. The
question was, where was Manson Hall? That would com e down hard. A key
back to a hated past. Now I'm not saying he didn't do it. But names have
power, and when someone says a power word, -- he had a cursor in the shape
of a swastika... Check that out. Kooool. It was neat. It trailed along
behind eac h word and sentence, as if it were spelling them out as she
typed. And the words made weird symbols on the wide screen. I don't want
to allarm you, but I think we have a problem. Who is writing what?
Where's it coming from? And where's it going? I r ode back on the bus
alone. Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike as I went away from
my beloved. I was crying, but no tears came out. I felt like my dead
baby. I was totally ripped. I felt like I was imploding in on myself.
Trying to fill a v accuum from my life that would always be there. I
wondered what would happen. Did I really leave a dead baby back there in
Newark? Or wherever it was. Why was I alive and what was I thinking? I
wondered what was going on inside of me now. I felt lik e I had taken a
dead baby into my womb. I wanted to scream, grow grow please grow. I
wanted to feel growing inside of me, getting big with child, like they
said in chruch round with child what it meant to be hated for it. I
wanted them to have that in their heads. Their fucking heads. That are
taking potshots at kids. Their stinking politician brains. I wanted them
to die inside each time they killed a kid. Made it unwelcome in the
world. You fucking assholes are at the gaping pits of hell, open your
fucking assholes before it's too late.
I used to xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx who said the trouble with the
Swiss is they didn't shit enough. People like Clinton are l;ike gila
monsters. They don't shit at all. They just slush it around. While they
smile and look pretty. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.
I'm talking about me, shitheads. I'm the moving target. After you've
taken out the ducks and the rows of bottles. The one that's left.
xxxxxxxxxx. Going down xxxx.
Popping up afterwards at a party or a reception. Still going
strong. Security tight. Actually, there isn't any. I'm a wide open
target. Then why doesn't someone shoot me? xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.
Cody be still.
I am. I'm trying to.
Rest. Recuperate. Take it easy. We've got to sort things out in
your feeble little brain. Relax. Let your guard down. See. Nothing
happens. You're safe. No one will hurt you. Just relax. I'm telling
you. Nothing is going to happen. Trust me. I want to see it.
Why?
Okay.
Did she hold it?
Once> HGow long?
I don't know.
This was going to look bad on his resume. Hers. Too.
Pennsylvania. New Jersey. Delaware. Let me think. There must be a
clue. What is it? How would Poirot handle this? He completely dominated
Inspector Japf. Misseur Chief Inspector. Cut it out . Did you ever
wonder why Japf would let himself be treated like that by a foreigner?
Mon Ami, it is too much for the little grey cells. He went home. Poirot
does not touch cases that stink. Let Morse have it. Jesus, fucking
Christ, Morse would twis t himself into little knots over it. I don't
know. I think Morse is a weak choice. Nothing comes.
All the best minds of forensic science couldn't come up with a
conclusion. Try to adhere to what I am saying. Mattlock it. My gran
watches that all the time. The fastest trials in the south. I used to
think Andy Griffith was just wasted in that seri es. But now I'm
beginning to think I was wrong. It could have been them that did it.
Just saying you found a dead baby in a dumpster doesn't mean anything.
How do you know it was theirs? Blood tests. Samples. They had the same
genes. White man's voodoo. DNA. We're going to DNA them right into the
dirt. But you can't trust DNA. O.J. Simpson proved that. DNA is a myth.
It's right there on tape.
That's why they hate him. He killed DNA. Nicole was wasted, but
OJ killed DNA. Literally. No one believes DNA anymore.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.
What a match.
What a draw.
This will make O.J. look like Mickey Mouse. Bailey has an
excellent reputation as a defense cousel. Look at Patty Hearst. Bailey
was her defense lawyer. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. It's not well known, xxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx He was in constant
communication with the finest legal minds in the country.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. How they reac t as they're going
down for the last time. Take Mattlock. Mattlock was great at this. Like
one time he got his client to practically strip naked in front of the
whole court. She was incandescent. And then she confessed.
You did it.
He confronted her. She confronted him. It's your job to defend
me. God, Guinever should have a Lancelot like him. He forced her to
confess by making it look like her best friend was guilty. The babe who
played the women was great. She looked just l ike Kelly. And so did the
girl friend. The one who hired him to defend her. Well, I won't go on
about the script. It was their show. But it's too bad you can't have a
defense lawyer like that. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.
I'll sue you for that.
Try it. See how far you get, sucker.
She'd do anything to be noticed. Like killing her baby. That
made them really sit up and take notice. Wow! You did what? That is so
freaky. I can't believe it. Why would you do a thing like that?
Why did Media kill her child? To keep Jason from getting them.
In your face, Jason. In your fucking face. He lived up to her. In his
rage, he talked most hideously about things to come, when maledictions
would be hurled down upon her head like Susan Smith, you heinious witch.
Why didn't he just kill her there and get it over with>: He didn't dare,
because he was Jason. He depended on her. Without media, there is no
fleece.
She laughed in his face. Without me, you are nothing, lover. I
am the wind beneath your wings. Ride me or fall. She spit in his face.
She spit the chewed up remains of his stinking little dick in his dumb
fucker face.
He took the bag and put it in the dumpster. Then he drove back to
the motel. She was sitting on the bed. Come on. I'll take you back to
your dorm. I have to get back. It's going to snow.
One of my uncle's kids is dating a girl from D.U. U.D. Uterine
Device, in case you didn't notice. I.U.D. U. of Delaware. He goes to
U.R.I. So he didn't do it. And his girl friend's a sophomore, so it
wasn't her. It's sort of like a sifting proces s. You factor things out.
Watching tv. Making sure it wasn't something that happened to anyone you
know. And working backwards, anyone who might affect your life. You
reduce it down, so that in the end, there's no certainty it was you. John
welcomed him back. It's nice to see you. John held out his hand. Oh,
you've been wounded. He didn't do anything. He just rose to where he
always was. While I in the meantime did nothing and was totally fucked.
Why do you write? Because it feels good. I write what feels good. I
don't apologize. I just do it. Or as close as I can come to the bone.
Others float. Like John. From one place to the next. What am I
doing here? Oh, it's Paris, and the fall collections are being shown. I
walk around and look at the pretty colors. People think I'm thinking. I
tell them what to do and they do it. Wh at else is there? Why don't you
think it and get it over with? Suppose the child's not dead. Why not
welcome it? You mean take back time. Put a dart in it. Let that seam
fall naturally along the line of least resistance. What are you saying?
Let t he spirit flow. Just let it. Forget logic. Let it live.
Cody. That's not realistic.
Shut up. I don't care. I don't want to wake up tomorrow morning
and see this in the Times. Let me have one favor. Let it through.
Fine.
A sort of universe that never happened. You make a conscious
choice. The child lives. The child dies. You're on an edge. What are
you thinking? Put yourself in that child's place. Let go. For got's
sake shit I shit out the fucking century.
let it roll
let the good times roll
another mouth to feed and be fed
you can do it
turn back time
make it happen
for god's sakes let it in
make the right choice
I don't know how to do that.
Yes I do.
you got to go back
you got to let in
the child doesn't know it's dead
it doesn't know the meaning of which side it's on.
oh forget it
it doesn't work
try again
for a moment I forgot I could hold the balance
I was almost there
forget about i
Babies don't have to be told about life. And death. They never learned
the concepts. For them, there's a limbo. When you go over the top, you
leave everything behind. Babies are not trailing a lot of garbage with
them when they go. I don't want to t hink about this. What does a person
like X. have to go on with? All his life he's been keeping a low profile,
squished into a corner, and now he's about to go over the top. What is he
protecting? The right not to be put into a plastic bag and body sla mmed.
X's is a walking phantom of how things look when they feel everything
about to be taken away. And they are helpless to stop it.
And you're what comes out on the other side. Of course. Edmund.
Come in. This is sick. Don't do it. It's a golem. Don't play around
with golems. I'm warning you. The Ba'al Shem has spoken. Don't do it,
asshole.
Don't play with stuff you don't know. Jesus, don't you learn
anything?
I'm sorry. I just wanted to help.
So did Mickey Mouse. Look what happened. Isn't it clear? Do not
call up what thou canst not put down. Don't meddle with forces beyond
your control. Stay out of there. I'm not kidding. Read The Wizard of
Earthsea. See what happened to Ged? You ca ll up your shadow. And
pretend it's real. Naughty naughty. You were playing games with mother
nature. What happens, happens. Don't interfere. Why am I telling you
this? Because you did wrong. It was wrong, Cody. Dead wrong. And you
must be punis hed for it. I was in real trouble. I had brought something
unnatural into the world, and now it was free. Bad Cody. You released
the Golem.
I'm sorry. What should I do to get it back?
Nothing. I'm telling you. Touch nothing.
She shrank into herself.
Now come back.
She relaxed.
It's you. You must give up your life to allow this to happen.
Hey! Wait a minute.
It's up to you. Totally.
You mean if I die, the child will live?
Sort of.
What do you mean? Sort of?
It will be like a fold back in time. Something new will come in.
Why do you think we have these wars? To burn off the trash. Allow new
growth. Those people needed to die. Your death will allow fresh space.
That's all.
How do I do it?
Just relax. We'll take you down.
You mean I'm going to die?
That's what you want, isn't it?
No.
Oh.
We thought you did.
I don't. Not yet. Anyway.
Fine.
I felt uncomfortable. Maybe they were right. Was I being
selfish? Maybe I was better off dead. I had saved everything. I might
as well be dead. Let the golem have my life. Okay.
A hand reached out and took away the letter on her forehead.
Other than that, nothing seemed to have happened. Until she looked down
and saw what she was sitting in.
Cody's golem typed out
There was a rupture in the circuits. Others moved in to take up
the slack. The golem typed. Cody dictated. This is what I died for?
You've got to be kidding. Please say you're kidding. I didn't know it
would be like this. Take me back. It was to o late. She was dead. But
it was hard to get the golem to talk about itself. It set up a vibration
in its circuitry. A logic conflict. Huge masses of braincells burned
themselves out. Best not to think about it. The golem had no eye
concept. It fu nctioned savagely, especially the breathing. The
breathing pattern was incredible. How did this thing survive? She tried
to think clearly. Wasn't there a television series like this? Where
children were part of monstrous robots. Wasn't this happenin g to her?
She had to go back. There was no back. It was backless. So was the
universe. You couldn't go back to what wasn't there. The internet is
like the immune system. The Republicans stripped that out of the new
legislation so that now all that' s left is a few million dollars for
shelter and medical supplies./ What>? We don't need fallback systems
anymore. The people want to be free. What? What? I'm getting a lot of
static. Where am I?
Frankenstern followed the monster all the way out onto the ice
flow. Come back. Please. Let's talk. I love you. I still do. Was it
something I said? He wasn't so bad. It was a misunderstanding. I
forgive you. Let go. Just let go. Ged. Come back Ged.
*
(* Note: the quote at the beginning of this chapter is from Medea, a play
by Matthew Paris.)