This is the third installment of the Palace series.
You would benefit from being familiar with the earlier adventures of Shon and Deck - especially those in the bunker...
- - 1 - -
I have to test the restraints. I just gotta. It's a pride thing.
It's pretty dark and hot and it smells like some kinda chemical...
"Marrón," Tor whispers - and I freeze up. "No yelling."
Fuck that, I think. So I snag a big breath -
A fist lands in my gut. Just hard enough.
While I'm getting my breath back, a loud metal clank comes from the end of the... cell.
Sunlight - painful to look at. It's angled from the wall to my left, so the rays don't make it inside. Big oversized door, now open.
I lift my head and squint carefully, seeing nothing but water - and trees.
Shit, I've never seen trees this close together. It looks like... a solid wall of logs, on each side of the riverbank. Enormous branches make an awning that reach out a good twenty feet over the water, rippling very slowly in a slight breeze.
Thick clouds of flies, or mosquitoes. That's what the smell is. Bug spray.
There are stumps poking out of the water in some places. Big rocks, here and there.
I desperately want to see another boat. A rickety dock. Even one pathetic shed. But there's nothing. It's so bizarre. A beaner from Montebello, looking at all this nature-shit... might as well be the first person who ever laid eyes on it, for all the evidence of other people I can see.
Sighing hard, I let my head fall. Thump. "Who's gonna hear me, anyway?"
"Let Buck sleep," Vex says quietly.
A bag drifts up, off the floor. The zipper-seal pops open... and a pack of Camels is slipping out.
"Could I get some water first?" I whisper at the pack.
"No," Tor says, with a mocking little snort. "Smoke one. Then, okay."
One pack leads to another...
I bounce back and forth between two thoughts.
We're not really in South America right now. Not a chance. Nothin' plausible about that - hauling us thousands of miles. I mean, hell, I've been locked in a dozen abandoned buildings, and cottages, cabins, trailers. If there's one thing the U.S. still has plenty of, it's room... This is just an elaborate setup. The biggest mindfuck yet. We're gonna wake up, back in the bunker, after our intimidating little field trip. Gotta keep the rabbits in line - it's so fuckin' obvious. It's laughable.
My other thought is much shorter. We're screwed. We are so screwed...
Just lying still. Watching the sky get darker.
After a while, I hear D cough. He snorts back a big chunk of phlegm, smacks his lips a few times, and eventually... groans.
"Izzzhhhaaht," he slurs.
I take another serious drag. His cuffs creak, and then all is quiet. Three, two, one -
"Hey... Haaaaallllppp! Help, help - dammit! Haaaaalllllp..." He gets busy, trying to bust loose.
I watch him struggle, not feeling much in the way of any particular emotion. The cigarette starts leaving, so I grab one more big tug. Tor waits for me to load up...
Shon gives it up after a few minutes. He looks over at me, panting. "I know you already checked, b-"
"Gotta be sure," I nod.
"Yeah."
"Pride thing -"
"Exactly."
Vex laughs. "You guys."
The boat drops anchor a few hours later.
There's one more village on the way, Vex says, and it's spread out on the bank for miles and miles.
The fuckers have the timing all worked out so we'll be gliding past it tomorrow, in the middle of the night.
Nobody here but us rabbits, seriously drugged...
I don't get much sleep. Shon keeps waking up, too.
We start to talk, but the conversations wind down to nothing. Too much on our minds.
In the morning, they wash us off. The water's like lukewarm soup. Already it's pretty fuckin' hot in the box, even with the door open. The sweat just rolls off, all the time. And it always smells like piss in here...
The humidity is hard on cigarettes. They try to go out before we're halfway through with 'em.
- - 2 - -
Hell of a joke.
Three days in a Dutch oven. Three, that I know of. Floating along.
Bayou country. That's what I keep telling myself that - Louisiana, or the Everglades - and then a flock of birds will come into view, perched in a weird-lookin' tree, big neon-colored birds that look like they escaped from a cartoon commercial for some breakfast cereal. So I take a deep breath and start going over the reasons why I didn't really see the birds...
We get so bored, we break down and play Twenty Questions. Every other stupid time-waster we can think of. Long lists... aardvark, beaver, cat, donkey.
"Bigger than a breadbox" - I just cringe, now, every time it's his turn to ask. Every fucking time. Like it's a clever new question he just made up. In my head, I make six different pitches for one of the fuckers to uncuff my hands for a minute, even half a minute, so I can cheerfully strangle him.
Tor just hoots at me softly.
"Deck," Shon says. Way past warning me. No emotion in his voice at all.
"Aw, shit," I say. "I'm sorry."
It's gotta be the fiftieth time today he caught me humming. Always something stupid, too.
I'm not gonna think about any of the things I was humming, 'cause then I won't be able to get the fuckin' thing out of my head. If looks could kill I wouldn't be here anymore, trying to concentrate on not humming. Just don't. Think of anything else, and be quiet...
All day, off and on, Vex and Tor have been humming. In my head. They take turns, usually. Humming catchy little bits of musical trash, and busting each other up - and right now I am not gonna think about it, dammit. I'm not. Bad harmonies, and I mean, putrid... neither one of 'em has any sense of pitch.
I listen - and I'm not humming. Good.
A few minutes go by. I wonder how much longer until sunset, and it'll finally cool off. My arm hurts where Tor's been punching me whenever I say something it finds especially funny. My throat feels kinda weird. I'm smokin' even more now than I did in the bunker. I wish I had some gum. I don't usually chew gum... But it sounds good. Bubble gum. I haven't had bubble gum in years. That one kind we always got when we were kids. We'd put, like, three pieces in our mouth at the same time. Sugary. We'd chew it all day long. Blow enormous bubbles. Kevin and m-
"Oh, for fuck's sake -"
I gulp. "Look, I said I was sorry."
Their amusement is hard to miss. It feels like... about half a 'Lude.
D throws his weight around, growling. Then he stops. Chest heaving, up and down.
"Vex says you're doing it on purpose."
"Not even you'd be stupid enough to fall for that."
He thinks that over. "Uh... Apparently I am."
"We better just keep talking, then. Distract me. Sadistic fucks."
"Whatcha wanna talk about?" he sighs.
"Anything. Except... music. And commercials."
"And gum."
Pretty elaborate mindfuck. I gotta say...
If they're going to this much trouble to make us think there really is a Palace, I wonder if I ever understood anything about 'em at all.
What bugs me the most is that they haven't tickled us at all. Not for a long time. Not that I miss it or anything...
I can't figure that out. What the fuck it suggests. What it means.
"Mutherfuckin' hell, it's hot," Shon hollers.
Six inches of gaffer's tape, I think again, begging 'em. I've been fantasizing about it all day... Magically pressing down over Shon's mouth. "Say it one more time, Doran. That'll help."
"Oh, fuck you. You got darker skin. You sweat when you're eating ice. I can't stand this, I'm dyin' -"
"Drink some more water," Vex says.
"I don't want any more water! Or beer! And if you break out the fuckin' Jack Daniels now I'm swear I'm gonna puke. I mean it... Shit. We drank gallons of water today, and just sweat it right back out. I ca-"
"Shon," I sigh. "Easy, now. C'mon -"
"And you stink! Do you know that? Do you? Huh? You smell horrible. It's like being... Aw, hell, I don't know, like... like being chained down next to a big cat. Big, smelly cat. I'm trapped in the fuckin' cougar pen at the zoo..."
I close my eyes.
Vex sighs, somewhere over us. "Shon. Hey. Listen to me again -"
"No. Fuck off. I'm done lis- Ow! Let... Go. Leggo - you get your hand off my c-cock - Dammit! Knock it off -"
"Listen," Vex says again, calmly.
"No, you listen to me, you sadistic fu- Ow. Oowwwww okay okay. Okay."
"See these?"
I open my eyes and look. There are pills, over his face. Four of 'em. Pink, maybe.
"Y-yeah."
"Open up."
"What are th-"
"Open up. Nice and wide."
He whimpers, and goes along. He's so freaked, it takes him a while to swallow, get 'em down.
"You'll like 'em, Buck. A great buzz. And then it's naptime."
"I don't... I... Aw, shit."
"D," I say to him.
"What."
"You were losin' it, there -"
He slams his head down on the wood floor. "Well, fuck yeah. I don't care, I can't stan-"
But I talk louder until I cut him off. "I know, I know, I know. I know. I do. Really. You're raving, D."
"R-raving..."
"Stone psycho. Redneck televangelist." A show we mocked once, in the wee hours of the morning. It deserved to be mocked. Seems like twenty years ago.
"What the f-... Oh."
"Yeah."
"Fuck." He shifts around. "Really?"
"Not that bad," I say, very relieved. "But getting there."
Vex has to get a dig in there. "Good buzz, coming ri-"
"Hey," I bark at the ceiling. "Put a cork in it. Please. Three whole minutes. Okay?"
There's a weird pause. "Okay. Deck."
And then I just have to push my luck, make 'em mad. "Listen - and learn." Mean-ass fuckers. I look over at Shon again, and kinda shrug...
He tries to grin, but his heart ain't in it.
"What's the deal?" I ask him.
He closes his eyes. "Nah. They'll hear."
"Nuthin' we can do about that. Fuck 'em. Hey now, D... Sex symbol. Nominee. I ain't never seen you like that."
"Sorry," he mumbles. And then he yawns real big. Then, like a dope, he glances around to see if the coast is clear. "One-way trip."
That goes in like a sharp blade. "Whuh... what?"
"I keep thinkin'... I'm not gonna be able to get, uh, back."
"Did it tell you that, for sure?"
"Didn't have to -"
"In other words - no." He shrugs, all sad now. "I think somebody's tellin' you lies, buddy." I wish I felt as confident as I sound, right now.
"No. You think?" Sarcastic fucker.
"Sheeeeeit. When ain't they?"
He mulls that over. "I don't know anything anymore. But that's probably the whole point..." He yawns again. "I can't fuckin' sleep under these conditions."
A cigarette is heading for my mouth. I frown, but I play along. "They said it's up to y- us. Whether it's one-way or not."
"Yeah, but they lie."
"That wasn't... How about the letter? From Ciuna. Think it's a fake?"
He thinks for a bit. "No."
"They wanna bring us back there. Annual torture. Remember?"
He nods real quick. The lighter arrives, clinks open, and serves me up.
"Well, how can we come back if we're still there? And you know it's gonna be a major production - the triumphant return. Lots of intrigue. They're gonna play that up to th-"
"The deal," he says wonderingly. "Of course."
"Uh... Ciuna? Yeah. You're the one who said she must have some teeth, to make it stick -"
"I did. And I was right." Another big ol' yawn. "Damn. I forgot all about the deal... Last insanely long... cap... captivity. Forgot."
"With some help," I snap at the ceiling, kicking out smoke. "Help forgetting stuff you know -"
"Uh, no," D says, getting fuzzy. "Sorry. Dunno, but... it felt like me... That time. Forgetting. Just... me..."
Above me, plastic is rustling. Pills are being fished out of a baggie.
"You remember the deal, D. Think about it. One marathon, and we're back in L.A. Fifty weeks straight. Makin' movies."
"Moooo-veeeeez," he giggles.
"Ciuna... loves you, the deal's gonna stick. Don't forget her." Shit, it's hard to get her name out - and the word "loves" - in the same sentence.
"Seeee..." Shon sighs - an extremely happy sigh. He's so gorked he doesn't even finish her name.
Tor takes my cigarette, and just holds it. The pills come down. I set my jaw, but that's about all the objection I can make, here. Staked out like this. A water bottle arrives, and my head lifts to meet it. One hand, then another one too, holds my head up. Almost... considerate. That bugs me.
When I quit drinking, the bottle backs off. I watch the Camel come back, and I take a drag.
"Agradable," it says - and then it thinks at me, tome eso! Take that - and it slugs me. I don't even have time to tense up. Same spot, always, on my left shoulder. Can't wait to see the bruise I must have there, by this time.
"What now?"
"Nice work," Vex says, sounding like it's got the usual shit-eating grin... on its, uh, face... "Calming down Buck."
I smoke some more, figuring out what I wanna say. "Pain is counterproductive."
"Coward."
"Well, it's true."
One of 'em makes a dismissive noise.
Fine. I just lay here and think about it. Emotional pain is not any friend of theirs. It's hard to really let go and get deranged when I've got big negative feelings goin' on. They can't get me as wild. Not the way they like. Same thing if... Tor broke my toe. Accidentially, of course. The pain would just... compete with the tickling. I don't see how it could be any other way.
I think about the sad little shrug D just made -
"All kinds of drugs," Tor says, real friendly. "At the Palace."
"Damn well better be," I grumble.
"Uh-huh."
The pills are kicking in. And, for whatever reason, I'm getting pissed off. "If you... drive him nuts... you'll have me to deal with."
"Oooooooo-ooooo." They make like they're worried.
"I'll s-stay awake, nights. Figuring out ways... to take you down."
They really laugh at that one.
"Ooooo. Okay, dude. Big ol' Liebre. Okay." Then I yawn, real big. "Feel the buzz. You jus' relax now..."
When we wake up, the metal walls are gone. No more box.
Open raft. High sun, but there's a piece of satin stretched over us. Like an awning. It makes me nervous. I can just see Tor dropping it on me, tucking it underneath, really gettin' busy...
"Hey," Shon says. He's smoking. Watching me.
"Hey back," I yawn. And I get a whiff of my chest. Bug spray.
The river isn't as narrow here.
"How much longer?"
"Four days," Tor says. "Maybe five."
Vex sighs. A happy sound. "And then, it's on."
That kills the conversation. We have another smoke.
I sneak glances at him. He looks like his old optimistic self. We're still sweating buckets, but there's some wind, which is definitely helping.
"Better," I mumble.
"What?"
"This wind. Y-"
"Did I mention," Vex butts in, "the breeze? At six hundred feet?"
"No, you did not," D shoots back.
"Windmills," I add.
"That's right. And hydro power. All the latest conveniences."
"Tell us all about it," Shon says, wide-eyed. He smirks at me helplessly - can-you-believe-this-shit? - and right away I feel a lot better. Same ol' Shon. I wish I could give him a real hard high-five, but our cuffs are padlocked to the raft...
"Oh, we got power for you dudes. Not just for fun, either. Washer, dryer -"
"Are you kidding?" I blurt out.
Vex's voice drops lower. "Nah. I don't know how." King of the mindfuckers. "You're going to have nice, clean satin under you. Distractions are not allowed. We hunt 'em down, and snuff 'em out."
"Ah," is all I can say to that. They hauled major appliances down? On rafts?
But Vex is on a roll. "Pretty decent kitchen setup -"
"Toaster?" Shon says quickly. He's goading it...
"Doran." I hear danger in its voice. "Originator of mine... If you think I'd haul you five thousand miles and worry about your fuckin' toaster bagels -"
"Cool."
I stare at him in the silence that follows.
"They got 'em," he nods.
Vex sighs. It sounds a little... impatient.
Well, fuck. If there's a freezer there, I might get to have me some ice cream during the next year.
- - 3 - -
I admit it. I lost count of the days. So did D.
The most exciting thing that happened is that they unshackled our right hands. Seemed like a year since I lit my own smoke. Fed myself.
We're really sick of the river. Tributary, Vex called it. It's maybe twice as wide as the raft. That's not counting lots of dead trees and shit on each side. Sometimes it's real slow going.
I know I've reached some new record level of boredom when I start up a conversation with Tor, about the design of the ultrasonics. I kept staring at 'em - speaker-boxes with steel pipes poking into the water. Always on. It took me a while to notice the vibration, but the boxes have gotta be kicking out some serious noise underwater. Telling the anacondas - and the bugs - to stay far away.
And Tor was glad to talk. It's a very odd feeling - sorta like talking to myself. Tor thinks like I do, or maybe like I would if I had unlimited time and resources. One second I'm annoyed with myself for... what's that old saying? Aid - giving aid and comfort to the enemy. That's the one. But also, I'm dyin' to talk tech. Real tech. Shon's useless. Tor and I bounce ideas off each other for making the perfect omnidirectional envelope...
Shon asked about the 'sonics once. I started to explain, and Vex interrupted me. It gave him the short version - snake repellent, mosquito repellent, all four of those boxes go out and you're dead - and he nodded. Looked over at me, all smug.
And the poles keep rising out of the water and back down again, pushing us closer to their fuckin' hideaway. Sliding out of the water, and back down...
"Conejo."
"What."
"Coma, conejo."
Eat what? I'm not awake enough yet. I look, and sniff - "What is that?"
It doesn't smell like something I'd usually eat. Fruit? Some kind of melon, that's my guess...
A piece moves closer to my mouth.
"No. Thanks. It smells b-"
A hand grabs me. Lower jaw. Big fingers. Another one curls around my forehead.
"Aaaaaaah -"
The fingertips pull slowly, until my mouth is open. The fruit drifts over. And falls in. Then the hand closes my mouth, and keeps it closed.
"You want him to choke, you just keep right on doin' that," Shon says, disgusted.
Nothing changes. So I chew a couple times.
It's... slimy. And sweet. There's a flavor that's really disturbing, like... hell, I don't know. Mildewed socks.
I complain as loud as I can. Tor's hands don't move.
So I make myself chew it up, and swallow. There's an aftertaste, too - I'm thinking maybe really old milk.
And two more pieces are coming over. The fingertips relax.
"Aaauuuuuugg. It's spoiled, or something - it's horrible -"
"Nope," Shon says. "Tor just peeled it for ya." The fucker's grinning at me.
It hooks my jaw open, and the fruit is tossed in. One. Two. And the hand squeezes my mouth closed again.
"D. C'mon. Vex says it's really nutritious. And it ain't that bad... once you get used to it."
I just glare at him. 'Vex says', so it's gotta be true. How somebody so stupid became so rich is totally beyond me. I stop chewing and yell for awhile, without opening my mouth. Tor's hands sit there, like they'll wait all night if they have to. Nothin' better to do...
Then I see... a bowl. Rising up - so I can see it. Very deliberate. Maybe half a pound of this awful fruit -
I yell again, trying to sound more pitiful.
The bowl lands on my chest.
"No more of this... canned meat shit," Shon demands. "We need hot food to stay healthy -"
"Responsive," I add.
He rolls his eyes. "Yeah. Like that'll be our biggest problem."
One of the poles stops moving. "Tell you what," Vex says. "The next meal you eat will be cooked. By me."
"Cool -"
"How long, Vex? Is that your little way of saying you're not gonna feed us for another three days?"
The ticklers laugh.
"I'm talking about a feast. Tonight."
Shon and I look at each other. Oh-shit.
"T-that close, huh," I stammer.
Tor growls, and turns it into a fairly terrifying chuckle. "So close, you can taste it. Conejos enloquecidos..." And that gets Vex snickering.
"I don't wanna know," D sighs. "No... Okay. Tell me."
"Uh. I'm not positive about that word, S-"
"Deck."
I sigh, feeling shaky. "Crazed."
He stops exhaling smoke, and squints at me. "Did you say 'crazed'?"
I look down. "Uh. Crazed rabbits."
"Swell. Just... swell."
- - 4 - -
Off he goes. D gets the first peek. I sit there - floating a few feet off the ground, pulling at the cuffs on this padded "throne", almost too stoned to sit up - and watch him disappear over a rise on the hillside.
Tor sticks the joint back in my mouth...
Maybe thirty seconds later, it bounces me once and starts me moving again.
Over the past week I've worked up two or three ideas I liked. How to get down off the fuckin' mountaintop -
But they die as soon as I clear the trees and see it. Cuffed to this chair which has no legs... really loaded, floating along, I feel something like a door slam. In my head.
I cross over the gully - which is, oh, I don't know, a good fifty yards across? - and see the smooth shale walls. Vex has been downplaying it...
Tor takes me straight up, then. Nice and slow. I look around, trying to stretch the cuffs. But finally, I just sag. Escape? Not gonna happen. This place is perfect - from the tickler's point of view. No wonder they went to so much trouble.
We are gonna stay right here until they decide to carry us back down.
If Ciuna doesn't come through, we might really be staying -
And finally, the top of the plateau is coming into view.
Roofs... little buildings. Or big huts. And one longer hut. Narrow...
Long grass. A foot high, pushed around gently by the wind. Brighter than the forest greens and browns, but darker than grass on a golf course. There's like a good half-acre of it. Maybe they planted it on purpose. It's so insane. No bugs, either - which is weird, after being on the river.
Almost in the center of the clearing, there's a big firepit. Behind the buildings I see a few windmills, definitely not mass-produced, turning slowly. And the stream. I think I see the turbines...
Three buildings, altogether. Lots of room for more -
"Wow!" Shon hoots when he sees me. He's pulling at the restraints that hold him to his throne, even though we're a good twenty or thirty feet off the ground. He's wound up. "Are we fucked, or what?"
"Stay tough, D-"
"Quiet," Tor hisses. "Don't talk now. Enjoy."
After a few more seconds, we're turned to the right. That miserable excuse for a river becomes visible, past my feet.
"You got 'em?" Vex says.
"Yeah," Tor says. "Go on."
I'm real fuckin' wobbly... But I still don't think a full minute goes by, before a brown square moves out into the center of the river -
Changing color. Orange creeps over it.
It's burning.
We both try to... jump for it, idiotically. Lean over. My wrists stay cuffed to the front corners of the seat, and my ankles are still stuck underneath.
I have a deep, vast, important feeling... but I'm not sure what it is. The first mental picture I came up with a minute ago - of a door, being slammed shut - doesn't quite cut it. Now I'm thinking of hammers and nails. It's like I'm remembering something I saw in a cartoon, once. Big brown door, and all these hammers swarming on it. Pounding in big nails, and never bumping into each other.
I'm just totally fascinated by this image. All the activity. Wish I could figure out what this feeling is called, though.
The raft is burning real well now. It drifts to our left. South, to judge from where the sun is. Even before it leaves our sight, it breaks into pieces. Just some burning logs now. The vines lashing it together, or reeds... whatever. I bet they burn real good. No more raft. No getting away, that way.
Eventually, the chairs are lowered down to the grassy area. Smooth transport, like an elevator. We both watch the ground come closer - some kind of instinct - until we're there.
D looks at me once. I don't think I've ever seen his eyes that big. I'm fried, though, and before I can say anything he nods a little, takes a deep breath and lets it out real slow. Staring at me, the whole time. I see him relax a little bit. After a few seconds, I think I get it. At least he's not alone.
We stop at a height where we can step right off our seats. Shon's cuffs start popping open - but mine don't, and I figure it out after a hazy second or two. First-Originator privilege. Uh-huh. They're gonna have their little bullshit ceremonies.
Hell - they've been looking forward to this for months. Maybe longer. Those sheds didn't go up overnight.
He groans and rolls his ankles around. Huffs one more big toke, and springs the roach into the grass defiantly. Good ol' D.
Rubbing his wrists for a few seconds, until he finally has to exhale. Then he sets his left moccasin down on the grass, reluctantly. And his right...
My cuffs start popping open.
On to Part 2
20oct2002