Chapter (3) REVELATIONS

THE YEARS OF DRINK HAD CONFUSED QUINN. IT WAS NOW HE NEEDED HIS DETECTING SKILLS TO MAKE SENSE OF IT ALL.

Revelations.

 

He'd followed Camille to another invisible door and she ushered him into another room.

“The rest room is over there Mr Trent.”  She raised her arm and pointed a delicate finger towards the other side of the room. Trent handed her the plate and put his head inside, it was a room much the same as the first one. “I'll get you a coffee, black with a little sugar, right?” He half looked at her and grunted, he was too intent on finding the rest room, it didn't occur to  him to ask her how she knew how he liked his coffee.

The construction of this room looked little different from the corridor, it was still lit up brighter than Times Square on the fourth of July. Feeling along the wall his hand touched a slightly raised area. He'd found the door. As his hand had touched the panel a door slid quickly sideways to reveal another smaller room. He hadn't know what to expect so he wasn't disappointed when the rest room looked little different, except it smelled like a hospital. He could see it had the normal facilities, and could make out familiar shapes hanging on the wall. Ahhh relief at last.

The sink and faucet were fixed to the wall on one side. As he put his hand out to turn on the faucet it poured water into the shiny white bowl all by itself. Oh wow that's real fancy.

The water was just the right temperature too and as he rubbed his hands they soaped up all by themselves. He hadn't seen any soap and guessed it must already have been in the water. Now he needed to dry his hands, he could see nothing obvious. By the side of the sink unit Trent spotted a drawing of a hand and below it was a rectangular hole  big enough to put both hands in, so he did. Without warning warm air was onto his hands. Standing there letting the air dry his hands Trent wondered about his situation. He was confused, a little afraid and yet his natural curiosity had him intrigued too.

 So, this is the future he thought as his hands dried themselves, Trent smiled to himself. When he returned to the main room he was more relaxed and had a formed a few questions for the doll. She was sitting straight backed at a small round white table. He joined her and she pushed the plate of food forward Trents' hands noticed the strange feel and softness of the tabletop.

“Say, what kind of wood is this made from.” A fork lay by the side of the plate and Trent picked it up and started to eat as he spoke. Camille didn't answer him.

" I hope you found the restroom to your satisfaction Mr Trent?” A mug of steaming coffee sat on the table, Trent reached out and lifted it and took a sip.

“Yes. That is some kinda restroom.” The food was going into his mouth in a series of rapid movements. Camille watched intently.

 He didn't waste any more time talking, He just ate the now much cooler food, in silence. Camille did not disturb him as he ate, she just sat and watched him. Between forkfuls he took several brief looks to the left and right to see if there were other signs of people in the room. Nothing, no one. He put the last forkful of pink stuff into his mouth. It was okay, not up to Maggie's standard but he'd been hungry and it had filled a gap.

 He pushed the empty plate away and took several final gulps from the mug, then he laid both arms on the table and looked intently at Camille. He sure felt better as the hot strong coffee flowed inside him. The dame broke the silence.

“Well Mr Trent, I trust that was satisfactory?” She sat stiffly upright on the other side of the table. Trent relaxed back in his seat.

“Don't know what it was babe, ham n eggs it weren't but it tasted okay. I could use another drink though.” Camille raised herself effortlessly from her seat and proceeded to a dispensing unit on the wall.

“Certainly Mr Trent. Tea or coffee?” his tongue licked around his dry lips.

“I was thinking of something a bit stronger babe.” He noted a slight smirk forming on her tempting mouth.

“Sorry Mr Trent that will have to wait until later. Trent pushed his chair back, it didn't make a sound as it slid along the floor. He was feeling more confident and his curiosity had his mind working ever faster. Strange how a simple hot meal and a cup of coffee could make you feel relaxed. He still had no idea where he was or how he was going to get home but he was less afraid now and felt stronger. Camille had moved gracefully across the room and Trent couldn't help but follow her with his eyes. Her shapely sexual form accentuated by the skin tight material. When she walked she swayed real nice he thought, but when she sat down she was as stiff and rigid as store front mannequin.

“Say Camille, do you think you could get some dark spectacles outta that magic box of yours?  This lighting sure is bright and it hurts my eyes a bunch, I'm getting me headache.”  Camille turned and smiled she gave him a slight nod of the head.

“Oh, Yes. I'm sorry Mr Trent I should have realised.” Again she turned to the wall. He couldn't hear what she was saying but he could see her lips moving as she again put out one of her fine sculptured hands. The doll had her back to him so he couldn't see exactly what she was doing but whatever it was it didn't take many seconds before she returned to the table with a small tray holding a mug of fresh coffee and a pair of dark glasses. Trent watched her, the way her body moved boy she could do that all day, smooth. “Here you are Mr Trent. One pair of protective light reducing opticals. I hope these will make it be better for you.”

This Camille sure had a strange way of talking, nice, but strange. She held out her fine white hand for him to take the item from her. Trent adjusted the dark glasses on his nose, good fit he thought.  he could now see his surroundings in a better light, he guessed he was in some kind of cafeteria. The tables were white and the chairs looked as though they were made of the same material. They had a strange feel, not cold, not hard but not soft either.

Trent took a careful sip of the hot coffee. He was sitting with a mouthful of the hot coffee swirling around his teeth when a female voice from nowhere suddenly announced ' Will all passengers for the evening Earth shuttle please report to lower docking station E5. All passengers for the evening shuttle report to lower docking station E5 please' Then the voice was gone.

Trent stood and looked up and around the room.

“What was that?” He asked Camille. Camille replied in her usual vague style.

“Oh that was the just the public announcement system.” She wasn't giving anything away. He was now thinking that maybe he was on a ship of some kind.

" Say Camille, I'd really like to know where we are"

“You will see that for yourself very shortly Mr Trent.” Her reply hadn't reassured him at all and he still knew very little about his situation. He thought he'd try a new approach.

“Say Camille...sorry. Camille these tables, what are they made from?” Camille hadn't expected a question of that sort.

“It's called Polypropylene Mr Trent. It is a very tough and a very light material.” Trent reached out and stroked the tabletop.

" What in the world is a Poly whatever?”

“Polypropylene Mr Trent. It is an easy to produce and easy to mould material and it will soon become very popular in your world.” That wasn't the first time she'd used the words 'in your world'. If he wasn't in his world then where was he. Maybe this was all some fantastic dream and he was really back in his grubby little office sleeping off another night of boozing. As he looked around Trent could make out a long bar decorated with a couple of rows of coloured bottles. Drinking vessels of various shapes and sizes stood in neat rows along a white shelf on the wall behind. No sign of anybody else. They were alone.

“OK Camille what's the score babe? I don't know yet if this real or just another drunken nightmare.”

“Mr Trent I think you will find it hard to accept, and believe, the information I shall give you. You have already experienced a few things that I'm sure will have seemed strange to you.” She wasn't wrong. “But please listen attentively, and if you keep your mind open to accepting some new ideas I'm sure you will find the next few hours enlightening.”

“Listen babe, I've had some real bad bourbon trips over the years but this one is REAL weird, so please try to tell it like it is, keep it simple and let's see what happens.”

“Mr Trent I am not what I appear to be.” Well that one didn't surprise him.

“So you're not some cold hearted b***h with no sense of humour?” A very slight smile crossed her lips and then Camille replied.

“You are partly correct Mr Trent.” She was now smiling fully at him. I am indeed cold hearted.

In fact as you might understand it I have no heart at all.”  Before he had time to say anything the doll reached out and a cold hand took his and placed it firmly between her ample bosoms, and held it there. “What do you feel Mr Trent?” Trent was feeling all sorts of things but the one he'd expect to feel wasn't there. The only heartbeat he could feel was his own racing pulse. Trent let his hand stay there, just to be sure. When he looked up the dame had a wide a smile on her face. In a flash Trent whipped his hand away.

“What the hell?” This was getting stranger by the minute.

“Mr Trent. Please don't be alarmed you are in no danger from me. I am restricted from harming you.” Trent wasn't listening he was already on his feet and looking for the way out even while she was still talking. Camille watched his pointless efforts for a few seconds. “Please come back Mr Trent I told you that you cannot leave.” At least with the dark glasses He could see a lot more than he had earlier. He had the door panel firmly in his sights and, although in the back of his mind he felt an urge to stay and find out more, he was more eager to leave.

“Yeah, right. You think I'm staying here with a corpse?”

“Mr Trent, I am not a corpse. To be a corpse one has to be dead, and to be dead one has first to be alive. I am neither of these two states.”  Trent stopped and turned to look at her. What the hell was she talking about.

“What are you? What ARE you talking about. Are you... some kind of space monster... like in the comic books?” She sensed the panic in his voice and sat back down. Camille didn't try to speak she just sat quietly and looked at him with those beautiful blue eyes. When she did speak it was soft and gentle.

“Please come back my dear Carlton and I shall try to explain these things to you.” Trent stopped his agitated searching for the nonexistent doorknob. He returned and moved his chair a little away from the table. He sat down warily and waited. Camille visibly relaxed her body and placed her forearms onto the table. She turned her hands palm upwards and looked at them, then she looked at Trent. She kept her open hands visible to Trent. The next words she spoke came out in a monotone voice as though she were reading from an information sheet. “I am a fifth generation female Biocybernetic life form.” She waited for him to react. Her words had been straightforward, concise and without emotion. Trent was thinking... 'well that cleared up a whole mess of stuff'.

“You're a what?” The dame raised her eyes from her hands and leaned slightly forward, her eyes flitted from left to right as she peered into his. This time she spoke with deliberate slowness, she said.

“I... am not a human, I am...an Android.” Camille kept her eyes peering into Trents' as though she were trying to put her thoughts into his mind. "In fact I am the latest in artificial life forms which incorporate certain biological units." Trent was dumbfounded, he'd heard her but he hadn't grasped the understanding. There was a slight levity in his voice as he spoke.

“Oh kayyyy. Lots of new words, no meaning, but lots of new words.” Camille studied him for a sign of comprehension, all she saw was the total lack of enlightenment on his face.

“You really don't understand, do you Mr Trent?” There was definitely an air of disappointed in her voice as she spoke. “If it helps you can think of me as part mechanical and part human.” It didn't. Trent still had a blank look on his face. He waited a full minute before replying.

“Okay okay let's say I believe you. Let's say I really have been brought into the future and you really are some kind of artificial woman. Why?”

“Why? Mr Trent”

“Why me? What do you want from me?”

“Firstly I want you to relax Mr Trent, believe me we do not intend to harm you.” Trent got up and paced back and forth a couple of times, his head was full of questions and he was feeling really mixed up. Trent sat back down on one of the white chairs. Camille tried again. “I understand that this must be very confusing for you.”

“Well YES, what did you think I would be feeling?” He paused. “Let me see if you can understand what I'm feeling, apparently I'm here having a conversation with a life size artificial woman.” Trent looked at her. “She's telling me things like the stuff I've read in a five cent comic book, and you expect me to accept it all. Stuff I never heard of and stuff, I'll be honest, I understand even less.” Trent took a breath and continued. “You know I was a mediocre cop and now I'm a piss poor private dick. Why did you pick on me? I didn't have much but at least I understood who I was and where I was. Maybe it is the comic book and the bourbon, maybe I'm still dreaming.” Trent peered hard into her sparkling blue eyes. It felt like it was real, but he was having trouble believing it was happening to him right now. The coffee had tasted cheap but he'd drunk it down and he needed another one. Trent pushed the cup across the table towards Camille who sat still and said nothing.

 She didn't need to ask she simply took the mug and returned to the dispenser unit and while the doll stood by the cooker thing Trents' mind was racing. He was pretty sure he was sober. He was trying not to panic. 'I'm just a cheap P.I. from the wrong side of town. What the hell do they want with me, whoever 'they' are?' Trents thoughts were abruptly interrupted as Camille returned with a fresh coffee. She slid the steaming cup across the table slowly towards Trent, Trent lifted the mug and took a noisy sip of the strong black liquid. Time to start getting a few answers. “Ok. Let me get this straight. I'm not dreaming?”

“That is correct.”

“So you're not a real woman and I really am a couple thousand years in the future.” A little smile once again arrived on her face.

“Yes that is also correct Mr. Trent.” Trent took another sip from the mug.

“Let's say I go along with this plan of yours, there are some things I need to know.”

“Ask your questions Mr. Trent and I shall answer them.”

“Do I still get five bucks a day?”  As soon as he'd said it he knew it had been a stupid thing to say. Why did he say that? The doll looked back at him and her mouth formed a little wry smile.

“Yes Mr. Trent, you still get five bucks a day.” Then she added a qualifying statement that only added to Trents' confusion. “However while you are here you will have no need for money.” Trent hadn't seen anything anyway to suggest he might need some cash here. “You see, money has no value here. Anything anyone needs is provided for them.”  The doll was still using that same silky voice. No doubt designed to keep him calm. He was feeling really confused but she'd said while he was there, that would mean he wasn't staying and it made him feel a little safer.

“Sooo I'm not stopping here?” The doll smiled again and Trent was unable to stop his mind from thinking 'boy she, it, sure was pretty'.

“You will be here for a little time Mr Trent but while you are here you will have no need for money. If you need anything it will be given to you.” He was starting to like the sound of this.

“You telling me you got no bars or shopping stores here.” He didn't yet know where 'here' was. He had too many unanswered questions and he was trying to imagine a street with no bars. Camille looked at him with those deep blue eyes and said.

“Yes of course we have Bars and stores. Life here is very much the same as it always was. Towns and cities are very similar to the ones in your time.”

“So let's say I need two fingers of scotch before I get home.” He was trying to act normal and at the same time trying to understand what was happening.

“No doubt you would go to your favourite bar and try to drown yourself in Bourbon until the bar closed. Just as you have done every night for last 3 years, Mr Trent.” This dame knew a lot about him, maybe too much about him and what he did, Trent thought. He glanced at her face, the same smile almost mocking him. Trent decided to change the subject so he said.

“Is everyone here like you, some kind of robot thing?” He felt sure she'd be impressed that he knew what a robot was. However her expression didn't change.

“Of course not Mr Trent. The 'robots' as you call us, are here to serve and help wherever we might be needed.”

“So you got humans here too?” She smiled again.

“Of course Mr. Trent.”

“Well if you.... they.... don't use dough to get stuff how do they get paid for work? I guess people do still work here.”

“Yes of course Mr Trent.”  Camille leaned forward again. “As you will know Mr Trent there are some situations in life or at work that are dangerous, even life threatening. When this work is necessary a specifically designed android, robot, will be sent in to complete the task. In this way the people are kept safe.” Trent nodded. That made good sense.

“Yeah, I can think of a few situations myself where I could've used a robot and saved myself some grief and pain.” Camille gave him a little smile. For a robot she sure was pretty. Whoever designed her had done a good job.

 “Centuries ago...” she continued. “The world was a place of continuous war and famine. Hundreds of thousands of people died unnecessarily year after year. Then came the final great wars of religion. Every country and nationality on your world was involved.

Countless millions died, all Industry was destroyed, the world economy collapsed. The wars had lasted twenty years and by the end there were not enough industries or people left to continue manufacturing the weapons needed to sustain the fighting. No country on the Earth was able to rebuild or maintain a functioning society alone.

In the following years millions more died of hunger and disease before the few leaders that had survived decided to join together and form a new world-council. They formulated a new world policy. It was obvious that money and religion had been at the root all of the worlds' problems and so it was decided to abolish them.”

Trent didn't say anything, he was trying to take it all in. He'd thought they'd had the war to end all wars, that's what the papers had said. The dame carried on. “You see if money had no value there would be no need for people and countries to fight for it. Organised religions were an even greater threat, for more than 2000 years radicalised religious groups had been the cause of so many violent and bloody conflicts across the world, and so the New World Council decided on a worldwide ban on all forms of organised religion.”

“But if you ain't got the cash how do you get things like food and stuff?” Trent was curious about this new world she was talking about.

“You simply go into the store of your choice and ask for the things you need Mr Trent.”

“Never gonna happen, people are greedy it's human nature. They're obsessed with owning things. Hell I'd fill my place with enough booze to bathe in if it was free.”

“Yes you probably would Mr. Trent, at first. But after a short time you would become bored with having so much. How often would you want to bathe in whiskey Mr. Trent?” He didn't answer but he was thinking 'Probably more times than he'd bathe in water anyway.'

“I wonder Mr Trent, if you've heard of the old twentieth century story about young man who went to work in a chocolate factory?” Trent wasn't following her, he was still thinking about all that free booze and he didn't even like chocolate that much, except in one of Maggies' cakes. “You see Mr. Trent, the factory manager told the young man that he could eat as much chocolate as he wished.” Sounded like a great place to work. “The boy was told he could not take any home but he could eat as much as he wanted while at work.”  Trent didn't know where this was going so he sat there and tried to look interested. Camille continued with her story. “Everyday for a week the young man ate several large pieces of chocolate. Then a strange thing started to happen, as the days passed he ate less and less until one day he didn't eat any at all. The manager asked him why he wasn't eating the chocolate. The young man said it no longer gave him pleasure and he didn't want it. Do you understand Mr. Trent?”  He wasn't sure what this dame trying to tell him so he just nodded.

“You see Mr Trent the manger knew that the young man would try to take some chocolate home every day if he could, without anyone seeing him. If everyone who worked there took a little each day over a long period of time, the factory would soon lose profits and would eventually have to close. Then all the people working there would lose their jobs. By allowing each new worker to quickly fulfil his desire, in a short time they would not want to take some away everyday. In making a short term sacrifice you have gained long term stability.”  Trent could see it made some sort of sense but he was still thinking about having a bath in bourbon. “In this new world Mr Trent, jealousy and desire have been removed from the equation of living.” It all sounded a little complicated to Trent.

“So you still got factories and stores and stuff?” He was still confused but a little less than he was when he'd woken up earlier in the day.

“The world still has need of industries but it does not need competitive commerce. Mr. Trent. Everyone can choose the work they wish to follow.”

“But who does the dirty work in this new world of yours?”

The doll dropped her smile and changed her expression.

“Dirty work? Mr Trent, I do not understand.”

“Sure you do, you know policing, arranging things, taking care of stuff.” She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. After a few seconds she said.

“Arr I see Mr Trent you are making a joke. You were wondering about the politics and administration, yes? "

“Something like that.” He said. The doll tried to explain things. Trouble was Trent had lived the last few years believing practically nothing he'd heard and only half what he saw. It had been sometime since he'd been really sober and now his mind was being overloaded with so much new information and ideas that he wasn't even sure it was real or if he was still having drunken hallucinations. The doll's voice brought him back to the moment.

“Mr Trent are you alright?” Trent looked at her and stopped his mind from racing.

“Yeah sorry doll, you carry on, if I get lost I'll let you know.” Trent liked her, she had a great body and a sweet voice, thing was she was using it a rather a lot.

“On our new world every individual can apply for the work that they might enjoy and they are capable and able to do. Of course their education and training will guide` them.

The world is Administered and controlled from a central world council with localised administrators in each region who manage and look after local issues.”

“So who decides who's going on these councils?” The dame looked surprised.

“That is a good question Mr Trent.” Trent accepted the compliment without resorting to a reply. “Well, as in your time we have elections, the difference being that anyone from any country can apply to be on the councils and local regions vote from time to time to nominate individuals they deem worthy. It isn't perfect, and sometimes there are a few problems, but it has worked reasonably well for five hundred years.”  Trent had never been much interested in politics back home, too much corruption, and he sure didn't want to get involved in it on someone else's world.

“Listen this is all very interesting but if everybody gets everything they want, what am I doing here? Just so I can have as much booze as I want?”

“No Mr Trent... Arrh another little joke, yes?” Trent gave her a little smile. “You were chosen because of your family time line. There is a task you must complete so that the time line returns to where it is supposed to be.”

" But why does it have to be me?” The more his head cleared the more intrigued and interested he was becoming. Camille had spoken of so many new ideas that he was  ready for almost anything she had to say from now on. Camille continued.

 “There was an occasion, Mr Trent, when you were so drunk you were unable to prevent someone from being killed. That was not supposed to happen. Now we must correct the situation and you will be given a second chance to put the time line back to it's correct course.” Trent thought before answering.

" I don't know much about time lines but if it seems to me that if something has already taken place how can I alter it, and anyway why can't one of you go and do it? After all you came back to get me so why didn't you just put things right?” Trent was impressed with himself for coming up with what he thought was a good question, but the dolls' answer was more intriguing.

“You are the only one Mr Trent, you see we are not free to interfere directly with the time lines, you however are a free spirit, you have free will, we do not.” That line just begged for a comeback so he said.

“Well I'm all for as much free spirit as I can get.” He could see straight away she wasn't amused by his remark. Her voice changed as she snapped back at him.

“Mr TRENT I want you to take this seriously. Do you think it was easy to get the Guardian Council to authorise going back in time to bring you here. Do you imagine that all of this is some kind of prank?” There was no mistaking the tone she used with him. Trent felt a little ashamed. “Why must you always reduce everything to bar room nonsense Mr Trent? I told them it was a mistake to bring you here.”  He couldn't help it but her tirade at him made him angry and he snapped back at her.

“Hey doll, I got nothing in his life. I got no real job, no money, no friends, no prospects. The only thing I do half right is to drink 'till I pass out. OK?  You got any idea what that feels like? No of course you don't with your perfect world and fancy machines.” It was now Camilles' turn to be shaken, she hadn't expect him to react so passionately. Trent noted the change in her body language and tone of voice. He hadn't been motivated to act like this for a long time, but she'd pushed one button too many. Maybe he'd been drinking so long that he could only function if he was drunk.

“I'm sorry Carlton, I didn't mean to insult you.” There was a silence as they stood and looked at each other. Then she came closer to him and put her pretty hand on his shoulder. Her flawless face was close to his. “Please Carlton, I'm sorry. Please let me explain some things to you.” Trent was calmer now as he watched her return to her chair.

“OK, OK. I Know, I get it. You chose me cos I got nothing, so I got nothing to lose.” Camille said nothing. “What do you want me to do Camille?”

“Everything will be explained to you my dear Carlton, but firstly I need to know that you understand more about our modern world. Are you happy to learn a little more about us?” Camille took Trents' silence as a positive reply. “It is because of the world you live in and the words that you use Mr Trent.” He was listening. “Earlier, when we were talking you asked me if you could have as much booze as you WANTED.” 

“Yeah, because I like it...sorry.” Think before you answer Trent, passed through his thoughts.

“That's alright. During our observations of you it became obvious that your drinking might pose a problem.” There she goes again talking about ob-ser-vations. Just how long had they been watching him?  He decided to ask her.

“Just how long have you been watching me?” She had this, wry little smile that moved temptingly across her ruby lips. It had a strange calming effect on him. He was thinking, 'I mean, how can you stay mad at someone that looks as perfect as she does.'

“We have been keeping an observation of you for some considerable time but most of our research was done from archive libraries. You forget that we are many centuries in front of you and so your present is our past.”  He smiled back at her. “The thing is Carlton whenever I have been explaining things to you and I have used the word 'need', you have used the word 'want'.” Trent had a blank look on his face. He was getting lost again trying to follow this dames' line, and the dame could see it on his face. “You see there is a difference Mr Trent.” Trent just looked at her, he didn't get it.

“Need, want, what has that got to do with anything?” The doll made a stern face and looked him straight in the eye as she spoke.

“It is the basis for our society Mr Trent. It is why we have survived for centuries without war or crime or suffering.” It was the first time he'd seen any signs of emotion from her. It was hard to accept that someone so damned attractive and stylish wasn't real.

“So you're telling me that everyone on Earth can have anything they want?”

“Again you have used the word want. We provide for people all of things they might ever need. People here do not WANT for anything but they do have needs.” Now he'd read many books over the years and he was pretty sure this was what they call a philosophical conversation. He didn't feel able to join in. " You see my dear Carlton you continue to misunderstand two things.” He was thinking he'd misunderstood a whole lot more than that. “The first is the difference between need and want.” She stopped talking and gave him a severe stare.

“And the second.” He asked.

“The second is... I never said we were on Earth.”

Reviews

[Kathy Van Kurin]

'Chptr 3 REVELATIONS'
MAD ENGLISHMAN,
Trent is finding that life is a very confusing state. For him, his drinking problem has caused the death of a famous writer which his sobriety could of helped him prevent. The intriguing humanoid is really good character for this story as well. She is cold as far as her temperature and says she has no heart but she is designed to read emotion. You have put together a fascinating story where he is in a strange place.
Blessings,
Kathy

[MAD ENGLISHMAN]

Thank you Kathy. If you have tthe stamina to read more, you might be surprised by the events that follow.