The Butterfly and the Tortoise
by WiseKensai
Terrance opened his eyes to a blinding white light. Or at least he thought he did? First there was nothing, then just white light. There was no pain though, that was a plus. Odd, this much light would normally cause him to shut his eyes or at least try to cover them with his hands. Added bonus, his jaw didn’t hurt either from the expanding riot foam from… whenever ago that was.
He tried to look around, to lift his hands to shield his eyes from the light, maybe learn something about his surroundings. Funny, no matter where turned his head, it was just white light, and his hands didn’t seem to want to move. Again, no pain, but also no sensation of being restrained or even the weight of his own flesh and bone.
Hmm. That probably is bad? It wasn’t a big deal though, Terrance told himself. He’d been in worse scrapes. Still, this should be something to alarm him, but he wasn’t really feeling much. No increase in respiratory rate or pulse, nothing. Is that bad? Terrance tried looking down, feeling his head tilt forward, or maybe a memory of how it felt to tilt his head forward?
Normally his cochlea would feed some information back to him, to let him know that the orientation of his head was tilted… and normally the lack of the feedback while moving would give him nausea, but none of these things happened. Still, none of this alarmed him. Terrance just took it all in and wondered what was going on. Perhaps this was just a dream? Must be.
While Terrance was wondering about all of this, a logo just appeared into the space in front of him. There was no need to focus on it, it was just… there, always where he focused.
Then just as quickly as it appeared, floating in the white void, it disappeared, only to be replaced by a string of text:
It’s your birthday. Someone gives you a calfskin wallet.
The words hung in the air, blocked out in bold black text burning starkly in the white void. The words seemed to follow his attention, regardless of where Terrance cast it. He didn’t understand. It wasn’t his birthday, he’d remember that, for sure. Also, he already had a standard issue O-12 wallet. Didn’t he?
The words disappeared, leaving Terrance alone with his confused thoughts. He tried to furrow his brow in thought, but somehow that felt slow, disconnected. There should be pressure between his eyebrows… what was going on? Just then, a new string of words:
You’ve got a little boy. He shows you his butterfly collection plus the killing jar.
Incorrect. Terrance was married, of this he was certain. He was just looking at his wedding ring, not two… hours? ago… a head shake to clear his mind that didn’t shake his head or clear his… mind? Nevertheless, Terrance was 100% sure that he didn’t have a son. But why did an image of a small boy holding a board with a butterfly pinned to it appear in his mind’s eye, the butterfly’s wings still trembling in agony as it lay transfixed on the pin stapling it to the cardboard.
Mind’s eye? Then why was the butterfly so clearly in front of him, hanging in the white void? Was this his mind’s eye? The text and butterfly abruptly vanished, leaving only the smell of the small boy’s hair, lingering in Terrance’s nostrils, possibly from the last time he hugged his… son? and buried his face in his son’s hair. No no, he had no son. But why did that boy have his eyes? More words appeared.
You’re watching a video. Suddenly you realize there’s a wasp crawling on your arm.
Well that’s bad. Wasps sting, right? He had learned about the bugs on Earth in school. Wasps were supposed to sting you, and that hurt. Pain was bad, right? He tried to recall pain, tried to dig into his most recent memories. He remembered the foam filling his mouth and expanding into his sinuses and choking off all air, but it wasn’t a sensation he recalled, it was more him dictating an account of what had happened, like he was writing an after-action report.
Oh no. He’d have such an awful after action report to write after that whole incident. Terrance started composing the after action report in his head, and the words started appearing in front of him as he thought them, slashing through the text about the wasp like a blade through smoke.
I was responding to an incident on the Averroes Campus-
Then he did feel pain. There were no words, no thought, just pain, brilliant and white, as if the white void somehow increased in intensity and burned every part of him, flaying every part of his mind. Terrance ceased to exist. There was only pain in its purest form, burning away everything.
Terrance opened his eyes to a blinding white light. Or at least he thought he did? First there was nothing, then just white light. There was no pain though, that was a plus. Odd, this much light would normally cause him to shut his eyes or at least try to cover them with his hands. Added bonus, his jaw didn’t hurt either from the expanding riot foam from… whenever ago that was.
He tried to look around, to lift his hands to shield his eyes from the light, maybe learn something about his surroundings. Funny, no matter where turned his head, it was just white light, and his hands didn’t seem to want to move. Again, no pain, but also no sensation of being restrained or even the weight of his own flesh and bone.
While Terrance was wondering about all of this, a logo just appeared into the space in front of him. There was no need to focus on it, it was just… there, always where he focused.
It was soon replaced by harsh black text, each letter hammered into the white void like nails in a coffin.
You’re in a desert walking along in the sand when all of the sudden you look down, and you see a tortoise, it’s crawling toward you. You reach down, you flip the tortoise over on its back. The tortoise lays on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun, beating its legs trying to turn itself over, but it can’t, not without your help. But you’re not helping. Why is that?
Not helping? What’s a tortoise? Is that like a turtle? This was dredging up memories from his earliest childhood years… The text disappeared, seemingly leaving angry white gashes in an infinite white void. He knew there were there, but couldn’t see them. How did he know then? More letters, hammered into the void.
Describe in single words, only the good things that come into your mind about your mother.
Terrance couldn’t remember his mother. He remembered that she had short brown hair… he thought. The words tore away before violently being replaced with new text.
You’re in a cathedral. The eucharist is underway. When it’s your turn, you see that the wafer is a small clump of human hair.
Should he be disgusted? That seemed like something to be disgusted by. He wasn’t sure if he felt- okay, now there was pain when the words vanished and more appeared. Terrance decided he definitely didn’t like that.
You’re in a park. You see a young girl, flying a kite, alone. The girl begins to wrap the line tightly around her wrist. Her skin bleeds.
Okay things were really starting to hurt now. His hands hurt a lot, it felt like someone or something was holding him by the wrists really hard and pushing them against cold metal. For the first time since he awoke, he felt fear, felt his heart beat, and his lungs take in breath. Something was wrong. Someone was screaming?
“What the hell? Restrain him!”
“I’m fucking TRYING, can’t you–”
“Apogee, get me the damn midazolam!”
“On it! Stay clear, injecting now!”
Terrance felt a sharp sensation on one arm, then felt nothing.
Terrance opened his eyes to a blinding white light. This time he was sure he opened his eyes, and he was looking straight into the harsh white overhead lighting of an ICU bed. He could definitely feel his arms, which were very much restrained. Resurrection then. He could remember how he got here, a riotstopper… mishap, but there was also a very unpleasant white void? With nonsensical text and pain. So much pain. That was new. Every other resurrection he just was dead and then he woke up in a hospital. Yep, this was definitely new.
Also new was the smell of… machine oil? He peered around, looking for the source of the smell, and soon found himself staring down the barrel of a riotstopper being wielded by a Dakini Tacbot. Terrance immediately froze.
“Officer Terrance, you are being restrained for your own safety. Do not attempt to move. I have notified your commanding officer that you are awake. They are enroute to brief you on your situation. Stay calm or I will be forced to discharge my weapon. I am obligated to warn you that-”
“Yeah yeah, don’t eat the riot foam.”