**** Elysium 1986 ****

The street samurai fell into the sheer endless blackness of a form of being and existence unknown to him. Entering this sphere might seem like a dream at first, but it was more than that. It was more than the mere reliving of impressions and images that had been collected while he was awake and were waiting to be processed in a phase of rest. More than the return of memories and things learned, blended into a mash of random fragments that had fallen out of the retrospective of an unstable timeline of memory. More than what an almost unfathomable subconscious was willing to reveal. Harry felt the fall through the clouds and their cool touch on his skin in a wash of sunlight and blue sky and didn’t stop falling, down towards a green world. What would happen when he hit the ground? Would he be shattered into a thousand pieces and his atoms scattered across the plain? Overwhelmed by the perceptions, his consciousness returned to him like a thunderclap. He knew where he was again as he was hurled downward and closed his eyes. Had something gone wrong when he entered Yanny’s mind? Had his body perhaps assembled in cyberspace far up in the atmosphere due to a malfunction, only to shatter upon impact at high speed? Holding his breath and not daring to open his eyes, he pressed his hands to his face and reached the ground.

Grass between his fingers. Harry felt the ground carefully and slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on a meadow. Crickets were chirping all around him, bees were buzzing and he could hear the occasional bird song. There was an intense smell of flowers and herbs. He was alive and had not been scratched by the impact, nothing seemed to hurt. He slowly sat up and looked at himself. His clothes looked like something from the depths of an invented human history, where different eras had been thrown together. Brown, sturdy cloth, trousers and a very wide shirt were laced with leather straps and simple boots. Only now did he discover a sword lying next to him in the meadow. A well-balanced one-handed weapon, he picked it up and looked at himself in the reflection of its polished blade. What did reality mean in a world of all-encompassing illusion? Everything here seemed completely real, and yet he was only in the mind of another person. It was, as Yanny had explained, a representation of information stored so deeply within her that she no longer had any control over it. And yet he experienced everything as his own reality.
“No time to think, must go,” Yuri’s deep voice growled behind him. Harry turned to see his comrade, dressed only in a loincloth and fur boots. A wide leather strap hung across his massive torso, holding a mighty double-edged axe on his back. It made him look exactly like one of the heroes from the TV series, much more authentic than himself, Harry thought. Abigail stood next to him, her arms crossed and her hair completely disheveled. They must have fallen from the sky too. Abigail was wearing nothing but a bra and a skimpy leather skirt with light, high-heeled sandals.
“Don’t stare so hard,” she hissed at Harry as he eyed her. “Why do women always have to wear so little in fantasy movies?”
“I have no idea. Maybe it’s a matter of money to save on costumes?” Harry replied evasively and grinned, taking off his loose brown shirt and holding it out to her. The programmer gratefully accepted the garment and put it on. It was cut so large that it even covered the little person’s skirt and almost reached her knees. Now she looked like she was on her way to a slumber party, but she seemed much happier.
“I didn’t even get a weapon,” she muttered, rolling up her way-too-long sleeves to free her hands from the fabric.
“Where are we going, anyway?” Harry asked Yuri in response to his first greeting. They were in a large meadow that bordered a wide, densely overgrown cornfield. A path ran along the edge of the field. The hilly landscape was lush green. Judging by the position of the sun, it was just before noon. The giant pointed in one direction, and as Harry followed his gaze, he could see the roofs of many houses and rising smoke in the distance. The path next to the field led directly to the settlement, which lay directly in front of a huge wooded area.
“That village there, first point of reference,” Yuri explained and stomped off. The other two looked at each other, nodded, and followed without protest. One direction was as good as another when you had no known destination. Abigail was glad when they had crossed the meadow and reached the path, and she no longer had to worry about accidentally stepping on a grasshopper or snail in the meadow. Having their slimy remains stuck to her sandals was like a nightmare.
“I think I know why these heroes all wear so little,” Abigail announced after a while, alluding to the high temperature as she trudged along beside Harry. She was right, it was oppressively hot, a true midsummer’s day. Even she, a southerner on 86, used to the warm climate of Elysium, was struggling here. Yuri, who was leading the way, was already sweating like a waterfall and Harry tried to estimate how long it would take them to cover the distance. The walk dragged on and the scattered trees along the way offered no shade to speak of. There was no wind either.

It must have been at least an hour by the time they reached the village. There was a surprising amount of activity among the simple houses, some with thatched roofs and others with wooden shingles. A few craftsmen were repairing the wheel of a horse-drawn cart, others were making repairs to their houses, several hunters were offering rabbits and wild boar for sale at a stall, and a woman was carrying a full bucket of water from the village well. The arriving troop of TRAP agents certainly drew a few surprised looks. To greet them, they were nearly run over by a group of frolicking children playing tag around the well.
“Why do people look at us funny?” muttered Yuri, who of course had also noticed the stares.
“Are you surprised? We’re walking into a foreign village armed and topless, while Abigail looks from a distance like an oversized shirt walking around on its own,” Harry shrugged.
“Hey!” the programmer protested, and in response she slapped his upper arm.
“Shirt, stop hitting. Better look for the inn,” Yuri grumbled and stomped further into the settlement. He was hungry and thirsty and knew only one destination.
“Why am I shirt now? Even Baby Owl was better than this! You’re always making fun of me,” Abigail barked, punching Harry in the upper arm again and then trying to keep up with Yuri.
“What was that for?” Harry sighed and rubbed his arm.
“Just because,” she replied cheekily, fixing her still disheveled and now completely sweaty hair as he caught up with her again.
“I see…” he replied, looking at her skeptically from the side. The temptation to pull her shirt over her head from behind was great, but he generously refrained from returning the favor.
“It smells like meat up ahead,” Yuri explained, licking his lips and immediately changing direction into a side alley, noticeably increasing his speed. The others rushed after him. A few passersby made way for the determinedly marching giant and jumped aside in surprise. His nose had not deceived him and had led him straight to a cozy looking inn, despite its simple appearance. He pushed open the heavy oak door and the three of them entered. Since it was still dinnertime, the place was busy and many of the patrons looked suspiciously at the newly arrived visitors. Yuri, who by now didn’t care at all about the reactions to their appearance, went to one of the two empty tables and offered Abigail a chair. She approached, slightly intimidated by all the stares, and then sat down in the chair. He carefully pushed her to the table like a true gentleman.
“Thank you,” she said in a hushed voice as Harry sat down as well. It wasn’t a minute before a young man approached, obviously to take their order. He had a damp cloth in his hand.
“You know we don’t have any money?” Harry whispered to the others, watching the approaching cupbearer out of the corner of his eye.
“Never mind. Have you ever seen a TV show where the heroes pay for their food?” Yuri countered with a grin. “It’s certainly no different here.” Harry thought about it. The Northerner was right, paying for equipment or food had never happened, at least in the episodes he had seen.
“What can I get for you, ladies and gentlemen?” the young man asked as he reached the table and wiped the edge of it with his cloth, more out of embarrassment than anything else.
“Food and drink, and a lot of it,” Yuri nodded in a friendly invitation.
“We have roast boar, potatoes, beer, pressed apple juice, apple sauce… What would you like…” he continued.
“A lot!” Yuri confirmed this time with more emphasis in his voice and his mighty chest muscles twitched with impatience.
“Very well!” The man widened his eyes, turned on his heel and stormed off towards the kitchen.
“Why are we all so hungry? It can’t be just because we ran in the blazing sun?” Harry wondered.
“Ghrelin,” Abigail said.
“Bless you,” Yuri replied.
“No… It’s a hormone produced by the stomach that, for some reason, is released in high levels by the body when you fall into that coma-like sleep when you enter cyberspace. What triggers this release has not yet been scientifically researched. Normally one would assume that the whole metabolism is less active,” Abigail explained.
“Will we even get full from the food here?” Harry asked.
“Yes, the brain is satisfied with the illusion of eating. You also get drunk on alcohol, high on drugs, and so on. By the way, the more you go into cyberspace, the less you feel hungry.”
“We should rent Interface as a diet program later,” Yuri grumbled, his eyes always returning to the kitchen. His fingers tapped impatiently on the tabletop. Finally, the young cupbearer returned with a large bowl filled with a mountain of fried meat and potatoes and three plates. He distributed the plates, placing a piece of meat and three potatoes on each, and was about to take the bowl with the rest of the food back to the kitchen when he was suddenly yanked back. Yuri had stuck two fingers into his belt and pulled him back effortlessly.
“Where are you going with main course?” he growled even more indignantly and the man began to sweat with fear.
“B-but I didn’t think you had that much…” he defended himself meekly. The giant gave him a dirty look, took the bowl from him, placed it in front of him, poured what was already on his plate back into it and handed him the empty, dripping plate.
“Don’t think, bring beer. Otherwise I’ll have to remodel this place. Give my regards to the kitchen,” Yuri grumbled.
“If I were you, I’d listen to him. He can get pretty nasty when he’s hungry,” Harry confirmed with a grin.
“On my way!” the Cupbearer gasped, sprinting into the kitchen. Abigail looked after him, eyebrows raised.
“You know, guys, sometimes I wonder if we’re really the heroes or if we’re more like the bad guys…” she mused, scratching her neck. The methods they sometimes used might not always be the gentlest. But she quickly pushed those thoughts away. “Oh damn, that guy hasn’t brought any cutlery yet,” she added as she wanted to start eating.
“Cutlery?” grunted Yuri, who already held a half-eaten piece of meat in his hand and took a bite, the oily sauce running down his beard. With his other hand, he grabbed a steaming hot potato and took a bite, keeping a straight face. His loud smacking noises silenced the conversations of the other guests in the room and all eyes were once again on the agents.
“Ah, not so important,” she replied, watching her companion with fascination. Of course she knew how much he could eat, but this would be a special experience. While she was still thinking, the young man returned with five mugs of beer and spread them out on the table, placing three in front of Yuri, who nodded in approval.
“Now bring some cutlery so we don’t have to eat like the last barbarians,” he instructed him, his cheeks stuffed and a few pieces of potato falling out of his mouth.
“O-Of course!” he replied and ran off again. A few moments later they were all equipped and Abigail and Harry began to eat, while Yuri ordered dessert as a precaution. Meanwhile, it was suddenly getting dark outside. It was not dusk, however, but black storm clouds pushing themselves in front of the sun. The wind picked up and the first drops of rain were followed by a wall of water and thunder. A storm the likes of which the agents had never seen before.

Categorized as: Novel 6 (EN) | Novel Chapter (EN)

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