{"id":13,"date":"2006-03-29T14:34:19","date_gmt":"2006-03-29T14:34:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.hammerport.com\/?p=13"},"modified":"2006-03-29T14:34:19","modified_gmt":"2006-03-29T14:34:19","slug":"crutch-7-of-7","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.hammerport.com\/?p=13","title":{"rendered":"Crutch (7 of 7)"},"content":{"rendered":"

April 25, 2054<\/span><\/em>. The truth is made of simple words that penetrate the brain like a hail of bullets. They carry a poison payload that has no antidote \u2013 the universe\u2019s darkest secret, the nature of its betrayal.<\/span><\/em> <\/span><\/p>\n

Seamus and Alison were the only two people in the vast space of the godnode\u2019s main chamber, beneath a twilight sky that peeked through the story-spines. Their endeavours to keep the project a secret had been justified. The raw words of a god were not safe to be distributed like some flyers from a street corner. <\/span><\/p>\n

The unrefined translation shimmered before them on their makeshift monitor, an array of clumsy, wonky characters that dared confrontation.<\/span><\/p>\n

Although he was free to leave having played his part, Seamus did not rise from his chair beside Alison; he seemed confined by the heavy, oppressive atmosphere that had enveloped them. <\/span><\/p>\n

The abandoned orphans the universe cradles are more alone than they could have realised. At the limits of his endurance, this discovery was more than Atlas could bear. It is knowledge that can compel you to insanity and suicide. Find me a blade and I will empty my veins. Find me a window, I will follow my father.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

Mistakes do not conform to the normal laws of reality; they are far easier to create than destroy. Alison\u2019s blinkered determination had forced her to cast aside every normal relationship she had previously enjoyed. She had accepted her solitude as inevitable but now she found herself uttering absent-mindedly, \u201cEvelyn\u2026\u201d Evelyn was with her father, far away.<\/span><\/p>\n

She looked across at the disembowelled heart terminal, gutted like some livestock post-slaughter.<\/span><\/p>\n

The unexpected consequence of her father’s experiment forty years ago was that Atlas had infected every trace of silicon on the planet. Alison had often tried to persuade Atlas to change his name to Gaia because, she said, he was like the soul of the Earth. He was vehement in his refusal, proud of the original name Alison\u2019s father had bestowed upon him. <\/span><\/p>\n

In the brand new world after Atlas\u2019 demise, they were forced to cannibalise his inert silicon flesh to construct the obedient, lifeless technology Alison recalled from her youngest years. Less and less of Atlas remained with every passing year as more was consumed to feed a new human society.<\/span><\/p>\n

Alison felt sad to look at the remnants of the heart terminal. She had sought to give Atlas a suitable epitaph, to arrest the chaos and remind his people what he had stood for. Her search had taken her away from the people she had wanted to rescue, deep into the darkest, frightening wilderness. She was lost. <\/span><\/p>\n

Alison moved her silvery prosthetic hand towards Seamus with painful slowness, as if negotiating through an invisible minefield, desperate to make contact. Despite the subtlety of the movement, she triggered a mine.<\/span><\/p>\n

All we have is each other, but is this enough? Such great irony. I descend into solitude to discover the greatest truth and the greatest truth turns out to be\u2026 that we are alone. I know the universe mocks me, \u201cKlickety-klick!\u201d<\/span><\/em> <\/span><\/p>\n

Seamus kicked his chair back, standing up abruptly. She retracted her prosthesis and looked into Seamus\u2019 baby blue eyes. They were blistering with confused rage.<\/span><\/p>\n

Seamus was twitching as if drunk on caffeine. He roared, \u201cWhy? Why did you make me do this? Couldn\u2019t you have left this alone?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Alison started to speak but Seamus slapped her face with a ferocity that spun her head around.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJust shut up! Shut your face! Why can\u2019t you listen? Why couldn\u2019t you bloody listen?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

An estranged husband. A daughter I do not know. A mother I cannot locate. No god to love me. Swollen black holes in the photographs on my mantelpiece.<\/span><\/em> <\/span><\/p>\n

Before her cheek had a chance to grow warm in response to the clout, Seamus struck again with emboldened enthusiasm. He knocked Alison from the chair with a well-placed right hook throwing her to the hard ground that had once received damning words from the deities. The ropes of politics and torture that she had bound him with a year ago had finally come undone and he unleashed the rage that had grown grotesquely fat during the intervening time. Love and pain. Order and chaos.<\/span><\/p>\n

Alison did not call for help, despite it being just on the other side of a door. She accepted Seamus’ blows with truncated gasps of pain as if she were a bellows. She relished the cathartic punishment and felt the emotional fortress she had built after Atlas\u2019 death shudder and crack, mimicking the decay and ruin of her silicon benefactor. <\/span><\/p>\n

I wish you were here, Daddy. You could tell me what I did wrong. I wanted to know more but I <\/span><\/em>just <\/span><\/em>forgot everything. It seems that none of us learnt anything under his stewardship. As soon as he was taken from us, ego, secrecy and enmity began their second ascent. These were not concepts that Atlas entertained. Do we need an iron hand to be brave and good? I see my prosthetic hand and wonder if it is a message in itself.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

His anger spent, Seamus ceased his assault. He hovered over Alison briefly, exhausted and breathless, like a lover post-coitus. His eyes exuded disgust and contempt, surveying the damage wrought with his fists. He was always right, thought Alison. Her face was wet; with tears or blood she was not sure. <\/span><\/p>\n

Looking up, we did not see someone watching over us, attending to the complexities of the universal machine, the strange illusions of quantum relativity. We saw something that unravels belief and dismantles science. It comes down to this: the universe is a joke. We are its cruel punch line, underlined and in bold.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

Seamus left her to slide into a bright white unconscious mist, making a swift escape from the scene of a crime. A crime welcomed by its victim.<\/span><\/p>\n

Alison imagined warm arms holding her tight as everything faded into a vast, white clarity; the comfort of other<\/em>. The words refused to leave her be, however, and remained attendant like watchful sentinels in her sleepy fog. Words that killed with their careless simplicity. Words that the deities sent to Atlas. Words\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

?h?nk\u00b7\u00b7f?r ?cc?p?1ng\u00b7\u00b7 bUrd?n
\nn?w\/?r?Ub1?[Us]n? m?r?<\/span><\/tt><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

April 25, 2054. The truth is made of simple words that penetrate the brain like a hail of bullets. They carry a poison payload that has no antidote \u2013 the universe\u2019s darkest secret, the nature of its betrayal. Seamus and Alison were the only two people in the vast space of the godnode\u2019s main chamber, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[2],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hammerport.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hammerport.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hammerport.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hammerport.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hammerport.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=13"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.hammerport.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hammerport.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=13"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hammerport.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=13"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hammerport.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=13"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}