Tyro Vogel - Tyro Vogel's Extatica

“Welcome to my world,” Mark said, passing her the pipe. She took a drag as they left the square for a narrow alley, stopping at a nearby shop where chocolates of all types lay piled behind a display glass; liquid chocolate poured down a chalice-like fountain in the center of the stand. The painted sign over the door read, Farkas Chocolate.

“What’s this?”

“This is one of the first places we built. Mark and Victor Farkas, that’s us. We made it in case we wanted to show somebody how deep, like they say, the rabbit hole goes.”

“You’re going to quote The Matrix now? Really?”

“You have to admit, there are certain parallels. In that movie, inhuman machines used dreaming humans as batteries, but it’s actually the other way around. The dream world powers our bodies while we’re on the plane of the living… and once our bodies die, that energy retracts into its source and reforms, ready to power another life somewhere else in the universe.”

Victor sure was right about his little brother doing too much psychedelics. “You’re talking about God,” she said.

“God, gods, nature. Like the grass and the sky, it’s just there. So, Irina,” — he opened the door — “ do you want to find out how deep the rabbit hole goes?”

She entered without hesitation. Inside, the chocolate-filled shelves glittered in rainbows of colorful wrappers, complimenting the shop’s multicolored carpets. A chocolate fountain almost as tall as herself stood in the center of the room.

A tingling sensation ran through her body; the THC had reached her and she was mildly stoned. At this point, anything could happen. But if Mark had wanted to hurt her, he would have done so already. She’d volunteered for this, and she needed some answers. Irina locked her eyes on the fountain. Chocolate cascaded down the overflowing chalice and into the bowl like a pulsating waterfall. Chocolatefall.

Irina decided against wasting time on the scenery. “Mark, what is it you wanted to tell me about Victor? And what’s up with the mask?”

Deep down inside, she knew this wasn’t why she was here. She knew she was actually lying in her bathtub while her life ticked away. She couldn’t care less about brotherly rivalry; what she had here was, as pretentious as it sounded, a shot at immortality. Fate had handed her a second chance, and it was an opportunity she could not miss.

“He wants to kill you,” Mark said.

“What?”

“He wants to kill you,” he repeated.

“Why? We just met. And wasn’t it you who attacked us? Why would he want me dead?”

What if they’re both maniacs, she mused through the marijuana haze, What if Victor is on the way to my apartment right now? What if…

“It’s nothing personal. My brother’s a brilliant programmer. A hacker. Your meeting wasn’t random, he was searching for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Somebody young, passionate, but whose life had been doomed before it had a chance to really begin. Somebody desperate. Somebody ill — fatally ill.”

“He hacked the hospital records? But why? What does he want with me?”

Mark walked to the chocolate fountain, dipped a finger into the flowing liquid, then licked it clean. “This space beyond space, this plane that connects all living organisms,” he said. “When we shape it into tangible reality, the kind we’re experiencing now, we call it ‘World-Space.’ The writer Alan Moore” — he tapped his plastic Guy Fawkes mask — “called it ‘Idea-Space.’ He had a point. It is a place where ideas — the one true magic — shape into something powered by our imagination and thought alone. But like Ie said, it works both ways. What Victor and I made is dangerous. If too many people start disconnecting from reality, it could be bad, really, really bad. The line would blur and the real world may simply… cease to be. People would start seeing it as data, information; as a different form of one of many possible realities, and nothing more. I cannot let that happen.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad. Perspective is everything, right?”

“Of course it’s bad! Did you hear what I just said? Our reality could collapse! The university doesn’t let Victor live on their roof because they think he’s pretty, you know. He’s already patented his method of using sound to shape what your brain shows you. It’s not going to do him any good, though. I still own the rights to all the chemistry parts. That’s why he wants you.”

“That’s why he wants to kill me?”

“He doesn’t want to just kill you. He wants to upload you, if you will, to make you his psychic sentinel, to have a copy of you roaming the World-Spaces. Like an internet bot with a soul.”

“Why?”

“Because he knows he’ll never get the UF203 formula from me, but with you as an extension of his will into the beyond, he won’t need one. The creature he wants to make you into will have access to all information, straight from the source. With your help, he will become a god. Your body, of course, would have to be discarded. Hell, knowing him, he’ll probably talk you into doing it yourself.”

“Whoa, Mark. That sounds heavy. Thing is, I’m dying anyway.”

“Everybody dies, some sooner than later. And that’s what makes us human. Please understand, you won’t be you anymore if he has his way. You’ll be dead.”

“I’ll be something bigger.”

“No, Irina, you’ll be dead. A copy of you will live on, sure, but you’ll be dead.” He pulled off the mask. Mark’s clean-shaven face shared Victor’s angular features, but there was no gray in his hair. He looked younger, more rogue-like. His dreads fit him well. “As for the masks… it’s a fashion statement. Who I am here is not who I am as a person. I’m not a samurai warrior. I’m not whoever you see now, even though it’s how I usually look. Everything you see is a lie.”

“A very believable lie.”

“As all the best lies are. Look, when you’ve had… sex with Victor, what did you feel? Was it as good as the real thing?”

“You’re a pervert, Mark. What are you, some kind of voyeur ?”

“It wasn’t real! None of this is real!”

Mark dipped two fingers into the chocolate fountain, the liquid parting at his touch. “We made Farkas Chocolate to prove how unreal it all is. This place amplifies your ideas, makes weaving the World-Space around easier. Here, let me prove to you it isn’t real; let me prove to you, you’re not even who you think you are.” Without warning, he shot a jab at her face. Irina’s body reacted, muscle memory bypassing thought.

She grabbed Mark’s fist before it could connect and she bent his arm up, using her other hand to lock him at the elbow. In one smooth motion she levered his body around, pushed him forward, and dipped his face into the fountain. Chocolate sprayed. Everything had happened in less than three seconds.

With a start, she realized what she’d done was called karai, one of the basic moves in the taijutsu branch of the secret arts of the ninjas. She vaguely remembered her training in the fresh air of the Iga Mountains, but it was as though it’d happened to someone else, long ago and far away.

“See?” Mark wriggled out of her grasp and turned. Half of his face was covered in chocolate. Irina couldn’t suppress a smirk. “See? He’s changed you already. Do you think you could’ve done that if not for what Victor had done to you? He can alter your memories, change what you know, make you into somebody else if he wants to. How many people do you think would buy into his idea of the perfect escapism experience, the thrill of a video game, indistinguishable from reality, a world connected to something more than this mortal plane? How many people do you think he’d be able to control?”