Chapter 2 Home
“Almost had it that time, Maggie! There’s a clever girl.”
“Your attempts at encouragement are unnecessary, but appreciated.”
“Come on then, let’s get you back on your feet.”
Joe offered his hand to the fallen black-haired girl, and she readily accepted it. He pulled her back upright and kept a firm grip on her as she took a wary step forward with her left leg, then her right. She wobbled furiously, but managed to keep herself from falling over this time. She kept taking uneasy steps, which saw her clumsy and awkward gait straighten out bit by bit. Several more minutes of practice later, she was gliding along with confidence and grace.
“There you go,” Joe encouraged her some more. “Told you walking wasn’t that hard.”
“You are mistaken yet again. Walking is, in fact, quite challenging.”
At least that was how things seemed to a cosmic being that hadn’t had a body of flesh and blood until earlier that day. The simple act of putting one foot in front of the other only seemed effortless to someone like Joe because he didn’t consider exactly what went into it. Between the synapses that had to fire and all the muscles that had to work together in near-perfect harmony, it had taken Magh'rathlak the better part of an hour to figure it all out. The same happened with breathing, talking, and blinking, although those were much easier to master.
“When considering all of the computational power that goes into these basic needs, I’m starting to understand why you humans still can’t figure out dark matter manipulation.”
“Well, we can’t all be hyper-intelligent mega-beings from the void, can we? I mean, I hear most newborns take about a year to pick up talking and walking, and you figured it all out in no time flat. That’s mighty impressive from where I’m standing.”
“Your attempts at flattery are endearing in their futility.”
“Hahaha. Well, mum always said I was a real charmer. Shame you’re the only lady to agree with her.”
“I theorize it is your lack of personal responsibility and accountability that are the primary factor behind your courting difficulties.”
“Haha… haha… yeah… probably…”
Being told his flaws in such a direct and grandiose fashion had bruised the simple man’s pride, causing his smile to strain and his mood to plummet.
“Are you alright, Joe?” Maggie looked up at him. “Your change in expression and heart rate suggest you are experiencing distress.”
“Uhm, kind of. It’s just that being bluntly told the ways I suck kind of hurt my feelings.”
“This was not my intent. My goal was to point out your flaws so that you might rectify them, not to attack the contents of your character.”
“No, I know you mean well. It’s just that, us blokes aren’t good at handling harsh truths like that. So, could you not?”
“I comprehend.”
Her swirling eyes once more flashed for a split second as that inconsequential information was committed to her vast consciousness.
“Anyway, since you got your legs in order, shall we go back to my place?”
“Indeed. I am eager to witness the conditions in which you dwell.”
With that, Maggie and Joe finally left the cultist compound where they had met and entered the streets of mega-city Dave-156. This vast, sprawling settlement alone contained about a third of the seventeen billion people that made up the global population of Butterpond-4. As its name would suggest, this world was the fourth one in orbit around the white star Butterpond, which was but one of eighty six systems ruled over by the 3rd British Empire, or 3BE for short. This interstellar government was itself part of an even larger organization called the Federation of Allied Governments.
Very little of that concerned Joe, however. He was just a random face among the endless masses of his homeworld. Or at least he used to be, prior to meeting Maggie. The cosmic entity wearing the skin of a pale young girl attracted all kinds of stares as the couple walked through the streets of Dave-156. At least they weren’t still naked. Maggie had used her skills at matter manipulation to fashion a rather sharp red-and-gold suit for Joe and a matching dress for herself out of the dead cultists’ robes.
Though the man was glad he didn’t have to walk around with his jimmies rustling in the breeze, he wasn’t all that comfortable with this formal style of dress. Still, his new contractually-obligated girlfriend - for lack of a better term - had made these clothes for him, and he did not want to offend her by refusing to wear them. Ideally he would’ve gotten the old RetroStyle™ T-shirt and jeans he had prior to the whole ritual thing, but some insensitive prick had put a plasma bolt right through his locker.
As he walked the girl-thing back towards his flat, however, Joe couldn’t help but notice she seemed to be staring at him rather intently. Though there was something terrifyingly beautiful about those swirling black pits she called eyes, her unflinching gaze just made him feel a bit uncomfortable.
“Blink, Maggie,” he reminded her. “If you’re going to use a human-ish body, you need to use it right.”
“I will endeavor to do so in the future, Joe. However, at this moment I am busy.”
“Oh? Doing what?”
“Counting atoms.”
“Woah, you can see atoms?”
“Yes.”
“That’s downright impressive, probably. And you’re counting mine?”
“Yes.”
“Well, how many do I have?”
“That is what I am attempting to determine.”
“Right. Though, could you tone it down a bit? I think you’re making my right eye water,” he wiped at the damp spot on his cheek. “No, wait. That’s blood.”
“… I offer apologies,” Maggie looked away. “I tend to get absorbed in my work and put too much effort into my studies.”
“It’s okay. That’s what I’m here for, right?”
That response made her a bit happy, though not enough to warrant comment.
“So what’s the issue with my atoms that you can’t count them all?”
“You keep losing them.”
“I’m sorry, what? I’m losing atoms?”
“Indeed. Continuously, at that.”
“That’s… Is that normal?”
“It is, as far as I can gather from the other flesh-forms. Do not be concerned, Joe. It is not at a rate that should cause you harm, but is still significant enough to challenge my calculations.”
“Ah. That’s good, I suppose. So, which atoms am I losing?”
“Those you expel from your lungs and the ones that peel off along with your dead skin, among others. Fret not, for I have taken the liberty of collecting them.”
Maggie raised her left hand to reveal that her slender pale fingers were pinching what looked like a tiny brown ball of… something.
“Uh… okay? That’s kind of sweet, but also a bit creepy. Please don’t do that.”
“Very well.”
The walk continued, but Joe felt a certain someone’s probing gaze upon him yet again within the minute.
“Maggie, remember what I just said?”
“I am properly blinking.”
“Yeah, but, you’re not counting my atoms again, are you?”
“I am not. This time I am attempting to study your mastery of expressions.”
Indeed, after breathing, blinking, and walking, controlling the facial muscles was the next step in her self-assigned training regiment.
“Mastery, huh? I guess I can pull some pretty goofy ones if I wanted to. Like this one.”
And then, out of nowhere, and virtually zero prompting, Joe did just that. He screwed his face up into a toothy grimace that made it seem like he was holding back a sneeze while heavily constipated. He then stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes before putting on a face that was best described as confused anguish. His attempts to show off his apparent mastery at expressions elicited a rather unique response from Maggie, whose stony visage curled into the widest smile she had shown yet.
“Your efforts to aid with my studies are appreciated, but unnecessary. I must first learn basic expressions before I move onto such advanced techniques.”
“Ahaha,” he laughed it off. “Well, they do say you need to learn to walk before you can run, so I guess you better work hard at it!”
“… Oh.”
“… You wanna try running, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Haah,” Joe sighed. “Let’s save it for after I’ve gotten some rest, okay? Been an eventful day already.”
“Very well.”
Silence fell upon the odd couple as they kept walking ever onward. This lasted for all of three minutes before Maggie did something strange again. She abruptly stopped dead in her tracks mid-step and jerked her head to stare up at the hyper-scrapers that stretched up into the sky like concrete mountains.
“What? Something the matter?” he asked.
“Are you certain you are not lost, Joe?”
“Quite sure, yes. Why do you ask?”
“I perceive an apartment that bears a label with your name on it.”
“Oh, that’s probably some other Joe Mulligan.”
“There’s more than one who bears your name?”
“Yep. Loads of Joe Mulligans across the galaxy, I reckon.”
“Hm. Then it is fortunate we signed that contract after all.”
“See? Knew you couldn’t make them supernatural pacts without a proper bloody contract.”
“Indeed, your incidental insight has surpassed my own in this regard.”
There was another lull in the conversation that, much to Joe’s relief, lasted for an entire fifteen minutes. He wasn’t used to talking with a girl so casually, so he felt quite nervous every time he had to say something. It wasn’t helping that said girl could fling him halfway across the solar system on a whim, but he tried not to dwell on those negative thoughts too much. This extended break from their conversations allowed him to recharge his social batteries somewhat, at least until they ran into a certain someone.
“Oh. My. God.”
A rather plump woman in an eye-catching blue outfit and a beehive-like blonde hairdo suddenly stood in the couple’s way. She had her hands on her hips and was looking down at Maggie in a clear huff.
“Young lady, what sort of terrible things have you subjected your body to?!” she bellowed. “That hair and those eyes, and that awful skin - you shouldn’t be using those new-fangled gene-mods so much! You barely look human!”
“My appearance is not for you to decide, Dolores Castlebridge. The only one who has any authority over it is myself and Joe.”
The plump interloper was clearly taken aback at having her full name stated out of nowhere. However, she seemed to latch onto the last thing Maggie had said and quickly redirected her outrage at the young man in the red suit.
“You’re the one that made her do these things to herself, were you?! You should be ashamed to call yourself a subject of the Eternal God-Queen!”
“Calm yourself, madam. I assure you there has been no gene-modding going on here. Though if I may be frank, you could use some SlimFast Pro™ yourself.”
“The nerve!”
Dolores then moved to slap Joe, but her hand slammed into an invisible brick long before it reached him. She recoiled in shock and pain, clearly aghast at the inexplicable obstruction. Her eyes met Maggie’s pits of eternal darkness, which seemed to regard her with the same mild contempt one would offer a maggot writhing on the ground.
“I truly pity your insignificant existence, Dolores Castlebridge. You will do well to remove yourself from our lives and find some purpose to your own. Come, Joe.”
She grabbed the guy’s hand and somewhat forcibly dragged him off. He barely managed to offer a few quick words of apology before disappearing into the crowd of pedestrians.
“She’s gone now, Maggie. I think you can let go of me.”
The girl froze like before, then turned her face towards his.
“Is my appearance truly so inhuman as to warrant such negative attention?”
“Nah. She’s just a crazy old bag. You did right telling her to sod off. More importantly, I’m surprised you didn’t, like, brain-blast her or something.”
“Your concerns are endearing, but unwarranted. My ego is not so fragile as to demand a violent response over such trivial insults.”
“Still, you got angry for my sake, right?”
“… Yes. You are my bondmate, and it is my obligation to defend you.”
Joe smiled as he patted that writhing mass of black hair, and was only momentarily taken aback by how unbelievably silky smooth it felt against his skin.
“You did a good job holding back.”
Maggie smiled widely, at least for her. It was the first time anyone had said the words ‘good job’ in such a pure yet trivial fashion. Hearing that made her a bit happy, though not enough to warrant a comment.
“Come on, then. Let’s get up to my place. It’s only about… Ah, bollocks! I missed my soaps!”
He’d completely lost track of time since he’d been rather engrossed in helping Maggie get her ‘land legs’ earlier.
“I have been meaning to inquire after these ‘soaps,’ Joe. What are they?” she asked with a slight tilt of her head.
“Oh, it’s short for soap opera, just a bit of drama-based entertainment. This season is really top-notch, though. I really didn’t want to miss ‘Love At First Flight,’ but… Ah well, no biggie. I’ll just catch the rerun tomorrow.”
“Curious. I wish to experience these ‘soaps’ that interest you so.”
“Do you? Well, I’m all for marathons, but I don’t think we have the time to rewatch all one thousand and eighty seven episodes to get you caught up all the way, so the last thirty will have to do.”
“These episodes, are they stored somewhere as data?”
“Yeah, I got box-sets of all the previous seasons in my flat.”
“Show me these box-sets.”
Joe nodded and wasted no time guiding Maggie to the hyper-scraper where he lived. The suspended streets they had been using all that time hovered around the fiftieth level of the mega-city, and Joe’s apartment was on the sixty-sixth. However, upon entering the space, it became clear that ‘apartment’ was perhaps too strong a word. It was a tiny space about five meters wide, four meters long, and two-and-a-half meters tall. Most of it was taken up by a bulky pod-like device that looked positively ancient. Its off-white metallic surface was covered in various scrapes, bumps, and stains while the mechanism that operated its sliding glass door seemed to hiss angrily whenever it closed or opened. There was no other furniture or decor in the claustrophobic space, save for a picture of a smiling old cyborg lady hanging from the wall. According to the inscription on the frame, this was apparently Mechalizabeth II, Eternal God-Queen of the 3rd British Empire.
“Well, here we are. Casa de Mulligan, as them spinyards like to say.”
“You live in this tiny space?”
“Yup. Been here for as long as I can remember, really.”
“Would you not prefer to reside in a more spacious chamber, like the one where we first encountered one another?”
“Oh, no. I can’t afford that sort of place, you kidding me? I’m not important enough to have a job like Greg did.”
Indeed, in this society those who enjoyed the benefits of employment were less than 0.1% of the population. Anyone with a steady job was therefore seen as someone of prestige and importance. The only reason Greg had been able to get so many suckers to sign up for his Cult of the Gazing Star had been because of his status as a gainfully employed citizen. Everyone else had no choice but to make do with whatever the state provided. In Joe’s case, it was this tiny apartment, a monthly allowance, and a Full Immersion Pod 3,000™. All he had to do to keep these seemingly meagre benefits was to wave at the picture of the Eternal God-Queen at least once every twenty four hours.
“How do you survive in such conditions?” Maggie inquired.
“Oh, I just plug into that pod over there.”
*BEEP*
Said machine suddenly let out a sharp noise that implied disapproval.
“Sorry, the Full Immersion Pod Three Thousand, Trademark.”
*Beep*
This time it responded with a far more affirmative-sounding noise.
“They get touchy when you don’t refer to them by their full name,” Joe whispered.
It was a sentiment that Magh'rathlak the Observer could completely understand, though that was hardly the most pressing concern in her mind.
“So, this… Full Immersion Pod Three Thousand, Trademark?”
*Beep*
“It cares for you?”
“Yep. Food, drink, sleep, clothing, health, personal hygiene, it does it all. Meanwhile I can just plug myself into virtual reality and have fun watching shows, playing games, and all kinds of other things. I mean, I could practically spend my whole life in there if not for the… crushing loneliness that stems from the complete and total lack of actual human contact.
“Fascinating. I would like to experience this virtual reality.”
“Oh, for sure. I hear its miles ahead of what it used to be just a few decades ago, you know. The Full Immersion Pod Three Thousand, Trademark,” he paused for the beep, “even has, uhm, m-multi-port support.”
“What does that entail?”
“It means we can both, er, plug into the same machine. It’s a bit of a t-tight squeeze, or so I’m told, but- Ah, bollocks,” his nervous enthusiasm instantly vanished. “You don’t have a PnP chip, do you?”
“Are you referring to the device surgically affixed to your spinal column?”
“Yeah.”
“I have not incorporated such a machine into my vessel, no.”
“Well, this is a bit awkward,” Joe scratched his neck. “Can’t really jack into VR without one.”
“Then, what of these soap-box-sets you mentioned? Are those available?”
“Afraid not. They’re digital, not physical. Gotta plug in to see them.”
“This is unacceptable. I wish to negotiate with this machine.”
*BEEP*
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea. Do you even know anything about it? Because I sure don’t.”
*BEEEEP!*
“Not especially, but I have studied much of your technology on the way here.”
Maggie raised her hand, prompting tendrils of shadow to ooze from it as her swirling gaze affixed itself upon the inconsiderate contraption.
“I believe I can manage.”
*B-beep?*
If there was ever such a thing as an anxious beep, that sound was most definitely it.
