Metem: The Blind Chemist

PART II

CHAPTER 19

Cory opened his eyes and was tied to a chair. He’s in Oh-jin's lab, but instead of a claustrophobic-inducing short ceiling cave he is in a room that is part modern classroom, part morgue. He sees who he at first thinks is Oh-jin and tries to call out to him, but his voice is absent, sound is absent. He tries more yelling–to no avail. The straps holding him are tightening as Cory struggles to free himself. The man turns to walk towards him, his face in constant shadows. When the man is close enough, he kicks over the chair and Cory falls on his back. The stranger straddles Cory, then pulls back the shadows revealing a scary, distorted, screaming monstrosity. He clenches his eyes shut, bits of phlegm and saliva pelting his face.. When he opens them again, he is in his O.B.S.E. machine, the air barely breathable and pressure pushing at his body from all angles. Cory, nearing suffocation, opens his machine. He is greeted with fresh air, and the feeling of depressurization of his body like a balloon deflating. He finds himself standing by a lake with a beautiful waterfall, Cory smiles at the scene, though the water is louder than it should be. Water is rising above the shore. It reaches up to his ankles, knees and then hips before he begins floating in a vast ocean. Before he can panic, the current picks up and Cory starts swirling in circles. Faster and faster until being flushed down a toilet, the nightmarish face looking down the drain laughing.

Kopius jerked awake, breathing heavily, his vision trying to find focus. His eyes adjusted and he found himself in the same place he had laid down to sleep the night before. Cici’s private garden looked as it had the first time he’d woken up here, minus Cici.

Just a dream.

Lifting himself to stand, he paused, noticing that an area on his pants was darker than its surroundings. Kopius returned to a sitting position, legs out straight as though he was about to stretch. As he gawked at the offending agent, his mind became clogged with overlapping emotions. Dread and wonder circled about his brain while his curiosity was in a tug-of-war with Kopius’s growing need to remain ignorant and what had happened.

“No,” Kopius whispered.

He could feel the pit of despair returning to his stomach, his breath picking up speed but coming in shorter spurts. Try as Kopius might to create different possibilities, the wet mark that covered the crotch of his pants had the undeniable smell of urine. He tentatively leaned in to smell, then quickly jerked back.

Kopius started to violently swipe at the damp cloth, hoping to rid himself of the impossibility. He paused once to smell his hand and that only made him more adamant to get away from it. Kopius began to vigorously scoot backwards, trying to put distance between him and the pants. After a few quick scoots with no success, he tried to squirm and remove the pants, yet they were stuck by the boots he still had on.

Kopius removed the boots hastily, stripped the pants and heaved them across the small garden. He sat there for many moments trying to find an inkling of composure. While his mind attempted to fit a square piece of logic into a circular hole, reality sat in a heap on the ground where he had thrown it. He couldn’t deny his senses, even in a world that didn’t make any. He knew what he had to do, but was frozen by the implications.

Slowly, meticulously, he stood–as though any sudden movements would alert the pants of his presence. After dusting off his feet and putting the boots back on, Kopius stood in the middle of the garden half naked, in a state of unease. His body was stiff from sleeping on the ground while his mind was stiff as well but that was expected first thing in the morning. His stomach started to give indications of hunger rather than his usual foreboding pangs of impending doom.

Kopius summoned one of the large carrots from his inventory–something he had practiced on his journey back to the small private glen–and ate it. He then took a drink from his modest waterskin. With breakfast out of the way, Kopius squatted beside his pants. The smell of urine made passes at his nose while he stared. He glanced at the naked lower half of his body and came to a decision–he would have to put them back on.

But not like this, he mused.

Picking up the soiled rag, Kopius walked over and placed it on one of wooden poles sticking out of the ground. Had there been any wind, he would have made himself a flag. Yet there was no wind, so the pants hung there limply. After some thought, Kopius began to stoke the dying embers of the fire until he had a low, steady flame. He then took the wet pants and laid them on the rod that would have held a pot, while he held the pant legs away from the small fire. He stood there motionless, thoughtless, his eyes fixated on the fire below. The thousand-yard stare was interrupted when the smoke adjusted in his direction, making Kopius move to the other side, flipping the pants over in the process.

He began to reason with the new information. Reasoning led to low levels of frustration. In his mind, he was left with one of two improbabilities: he was actually, physically in Metem, or he could pee in games again. There were no other reasonable, rational, or sane explanations and peeing made a lot more sense.

“How did that saying go?” Kopius wondered aloud. “Something about the least amount of steps or something? Or the simplest answer… no. Least steps–that’s right. When faced with a problem, choose the answer with the least steps.” He was sure he was butchering the phrase but understood it well enough. Cory had called it the ‘Razor’ approach, though he always got confused whether it was Occam or Hanlon that wrote it. I think Hanlon was the malice versus stupidity guy, Kopius guessed. Regardless of who wrote what, the tension building from the stress of it all slowly dissipated. Being stuck in a broken game that he could pee in was much easier to reconcile than the alternative.

Kopius felt like smiling, like he had figured out some small puzzle. He gave a small chuckle at the thought that it had, thankfully, been a long time since he had peed himself. Laughter turned into coughs at the thought of going number two–and the absence of wet wipes to clean his rear. That’s just as bad as walking around barefoot, Kopius thought with a shudder.

That slight tremble was enough to coax the pants off the rod and they dropped into the fire. Kopius quickly pulled the pants out, thankful for it not being aflame, though he stomped on it nonetheless. He picked them up and started to whip them in a fashion that one would do with a beach towel to remove the sand. Bits of debris pelted his face, but he carried on, eyes clenched shut.

Holding the pants out at arm’s length to assess the damage, he was relieved to see only minor burn marks and soot stains. The pants were dry, though they were no more comfortable to put on than the first time he had done it. His manhood would be safe from being scratched by random branches, but he lamented the fact that he was basically wandering around in thick pajamas. Additionally, he stank of smoke and soot, with a trailing cloud of urine muskiness. Maybe it will keep the wildlife away, Kopius hoped.

He extinguished the fire with handfuls of dirt, collected his meager belongings, and opened his map. Three red splotches appeared, showing Kopius the way past the small minefield of traps.

Hours passed by as Kopius trudged his way through the ever-thickening dead forest. Along the way, and in spite of the low light, Kopius had noticed the spots that Cici had likely stepped in. There was no well-beaten path to follow and the big man's footsteps made random indentions in the ground and other debris. Once Kopius had picked up on the clues, his progress out of the valley became more of a slow walk rather than a crawl. After following Cici’s path for about an hour, a blank window appeared, startling him. He closed it and returned to his struggle, wondering the whole time, What the hell was that for?

Eventually, the walls of the valley began to drastically taper in. The trees became even more dense, to the point that Kopius’s Night Vision kicked in. He could make out both sides of the valley and began to hope very feverishly that he had not missed an exit along the way. He kept moving forward, following the trail of Cici’s elusive footprints.

The farther he walked into the darkness the quicker his heartbeat picked up; expecting danger to jump scare him at any moment. Dead trees littered his path, while he noticed that others had started jutting out of the valley walls horizontally, creating an impromptu canopy.

“Sword one,” Kopius whispered.

His short sword appeared in his hand, the blade resting on his palm. He silently shook his head in disappointment–he had yet to figure out how to remove the sword from his inventory with the hilt in his palm. Twenty paces into the canopy, Kopius would have been in total darkness if not for his Skill. Slowly he scooted around obstacles and squeezed past trees.

“How did he fit through here!” Kopius grumbled to himself, lowering to a crouch to move forward. Several minutes later Kopius caught the smallest glimmer of light through the trees. He redoubled his crouch-walk until he was able to walk-walk, breaking through the last of the dead lumber.

A sense of relief poured into Kopius as he stepped out of the dark valley. His lips curled into a genuine smile. In front of him lay a sprawling, healthy, colorfully flamboyant forest with glowing rays of sunshine lighting the land entirely. Trees of varying height and genus covered the rolling landscape. Wild grass and bushes sprouted out in abundance. The air was fresh and filtered; the finest Perri-Air.

It all stood in stark contrast to the apocalyptic forest he had just slogged through. Here, there was room to move and run, if needed, just like the outdoors he had experienced as a child. Granted, the trees and plants had an extensive variety of colors and shapes. More than he was used to; giving it the credence of feeling ‘otherworldly’.

Kopius took in a deep breath of fresh air and enjoyed the openness.

Man, the developers really did a great job, Kopius thought as he took in all the small details. It was like he had stepped out of a monochrome silent film and straight into a color one with a complete home theater system. The sounds and smells of a thriving forest made their way into his senses, and he all but forgot the dense dreariness of the valley behind him.

Looking over his shoulder, Kopius was surprised to see the valley wall standing tall, a massive barrier separating the lush forest from the darkness. He turned to get a better look.

In both directions, a continual mass of rock jutted thirty or more feet above the surface. It created a natural, vertical wall that spanned as far as he could see. One gigantic crack marred the otherwise smooth surface of the foreboding barrier. In it was the small space Kopius had come out of, though it looked like a foxhole in relation to its surroundings.

Just looking back toward that dark valley began to rob Kopius of what joy he had felt about getting out–he remembered that he would have to come back here and find this place. He would have to go back through there. This line of thought also reminded him ‘why’ he was doing it in the first place. His cheery moment passed and Kopius returned to his normal brooding.

“Tidus of Kon, logout,” Kopius said aloud, his fingers crossed.

Nothing. He exhaled in disappointment but not in surprise.

Head straight out of the valley, have a splash in the first river you come to and then head downstream, Kopius thought to himself. These were roughly the instructions Cici had told him, if he wanted that drink. Oh-jin, on the other hand, had not specified a direction. Just that he would need to find a blacksmith or a weaver. If Cici’s directions were correct, getting to Feral Crossing would be the easy part. Getting back, on the other hand, was another story.

Kopius considered creating placemarkers, like stacks of rocks, as he headed toward the water. He looked about for any unique landmarks that would help guide him back. He wondered that, if he were to make traps, would he see the red dots to help show him the way. After filtering out most of his choices, he was left with stacking rocks or having Cici show him the way. Kopius could not expect that the big man would be able to bring him back. Furthermore, if Cici did bring him back, Kopius might owe him a favor or something.

“Nah,” Kopius said. “I’ll just stack rocks.”

Roughly two hours into Kopius’s journey to find the water crossing and he had given up on stacking the rocks. There were not as many as he had been expecting, and the ones he did find had to be peeled from the earth. He had reasoned that, whenever he reached the water, he would create something there instead.

Since he had given up on scouting for proper stones, his pace greatly increased. The forest was alive with various sounds and aromas. He occasionally saw small, squirrel-like animals darting about the trees and the sound of birds squawking about the treetops. Kopius steered clear of colorfully flowered plants and bushes with fruit bared. He wanted to enjoy the new scenery, but the grip he had on his short sword was enough to create a diamond.

He stopped for a moment and returned his sword to inventory. Creases were evident in his sword hand as he opened and closed it. Deep breaths failed to relieve him of any anxiety. It wasn’t a full-blown attack, just the normal, day-to-day anxiety that had hounded him for too long now. Cory had experienced it for so long that not having it was, at times, worse.

You have it and deal with it, or you don’t and worry about it coming back, Kopius lamented.

“It always comes back,” Kopius said, shaking his head. “Ain’t no running from it.”

Though that was true, it did give Kopius an idea. Regardless of someone’s physique, running requires a lot of concentration. Cory had found that when running, it was as though his brain would cut off his ability to concentrate on anything else besides maintaining his balance and avoiding obstacles. The faster he ran, the less the worries of the world weighed him down. By all measures, Cory was fast. He didn’t want to guess at how fast he could go now.

Kopius started off at the pace of a swift walk, picking up speed as his footfalls became acclimated with the terrain. A pair of socks would have made him feel better. Cory’s feet had a tendency to sweat and that led Kopius to believe it would be no different now. He did not want any part of that slippery stench. To the credit of the boots, they remained snug against him with no obvious chafing.

The sound of crunching foliage changed to that of rustled grass as Kopius moved into a run. Trees and bushes zipped by his peripheral and wind rushed against his face until his breaths became too heavy for him to continue. He slowed back to a walk and found a tree to lean against. Though Kopius had no idea how far he had traveled, he knew that he had been moving really fast.

That Haste Skill must really make a difference, Kopius thought… between breaths.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was fast before,” Kopius said unabashedly, as if the Universe itself was attentively listening.

He looked at his body with a new appreciation. Moving fast was something he knew how to do, or at least his younger self had been quite capable of. His new body–avatar!, Kopius corrected himself–felt like an upgraded version of peak, twenty-year-old Cory. A time when all he did was eat, sleep and train for baseball. Kopius smiled briefly, remembering the good old days.

Though, it wasn’t long after his 21st birthday that Cory had gotten in trouble with the law.

“Use your fucking blinker,” Kopius whispered with indignation. His mood soured as he recalled the events that followed that statement: his arrest, arraignment, and prison. Where he should have learned his lesson and come out a better person, Cory had emerged bitter and disgruntled. His view on life had become even more selfish, as he felt he was ‘owed’ something for his transgressions.

He would stumble from one failed quasi-legal scheme to the next, only making enough to get by. Some of the ideas were actually good ones, though–eventually–they were grossly mishandled and ran into the ground. Cory had little to show for his good ideas, material or otherwise.

Kopius laughed but with no mirth, recalling the time when repo-men had come to take his O.B.S.E. machine. The address they had been given was that of his neighbor. They had taken it while she was out of town. Cory just let it happen. At best, he had been an opportunist. At worst, there were several words that he could use, though ‘loser’ was one of the nicer ones.

Even when he wasn’t losing, the feeling of the other shoe dropping was anchored in the back of his mind. So much so that the feelings of joy and happiness would be quickly replaced by anxious wonder of how hard the scales would tip back, out of his favor.

He was a loser then, and now; he was just an older, more creative loser.

If they’d taken mine maybe I wouldn’t be here, Kopius thought with a grimace.

Then he took off running again.