"But you said she was tied," I object.
"She was. When I say that she stood up, I mean a part of her did. Her shadow, her soul, I don't have good enough words to describe what I saw. She left her body behind, tied on the chair. It looked inanimate, the head was tilted, the eyes closed. Her shadow came close to me and said, 'Give me the scalpel.' Ludwig stood there, mouth ajar, frozen. I was frozen too, so she took my hand a guided it to cut you open. Then she laid her hands on your open wound, and started to sing a soft, buzzing rhythm, an ancient lullaby. Filaments of smoke began to flow from your body, and the shape of a young man formed - your brother. She took the scalpel from my hands, and heading towards the body she left behind she sliced it open. Your brother looked around with a lost gaze, but when she pointed at the cut on her unconscious body he walked towards it with obedient steps. When he was at a close distance the air blurred around him, and a vortex formed. Then he suddenly disappeared, sucked into your mother's womb. An instant later the wound on your mother's body and yours healed, leaving behind a fine line that ran from the pubis to your breasts. Ludwig had been looking at a spot inside your open cut before it closed, standing immobile, his eyes frightened," Arthur recalls.
"Why frightened?" I want to know.
"Because a part of him too was inside you," Arthur says.
I drop silent for a moment.
"Is he inside me now?" I ask.
"I think so, but not all of him. Just enough for you to control his life and death, and to remember," he tells me enigmatically.
"But will I always have to carry him inside me? And what happened to my brother?" I insist.
I feel nauseous.
"I think many of the answers are in the fragments of the space ship I was discovering with you, your brother, Matt and-" Arthur starts, but before he can finish we feel the room move upwards.
"What is happening?" I scream.
"I don't know!" Arthur screams back, as the walls of the room turn into steel, and shrink, and melt into a new shape, and we find ourselves into an elevator.
A luminous arrow points downwards, but we sense the elevator move up, up, up, its speed increasing till we are propelled upwards at a speed that deafens my ears, blurs my vision, drains the blood from my arms.
I want to call Arthur's name, but my voice dies away into a sea of black dots.
Chapter 36
Outside is a sea of blackness punctuated by bright dots, stars, planets, galaxies, light years away. The space where I am sitting is white.
Alone in this outpost, I feel energized and empowered by the boundless possibilities lying before me. The view is foreign and familiar at once.
I've been here before, this used to be home, or something I could almost call home. I stand up and approach the window. From this new angle I notice there's a ship secured to the walls of the station.
It's my ship.
It's the ship I had seen myself rediscovering with my brother and Arthur in a long gone time.
For how long have I been alone in the empty space? How did I readjust to other humans after this isolation, exhilarating and crushing at once?
As I ask myself these questions I press a button, instinctively, without knowing why.
"Arthur will answer the call in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 seconds. You will speak to Arthur in 0 seconds," a female voice clearly enunciates, and Arthur's face appears on the window. His room, as white as mine, is an oxymoron against the infinite blackness of space.
"Why did you not call me earlier?" he asks.
"Because I just got here?I don't fully remember, or know?" I begin to fumble.
"Do you want to see me? There's something I must show you," he tells me.
"Yes, I do want to see you. I really do," I say, meaning every word, and Arthur steps out of the image.
"It's this easy?" I ask, laughing and crying at once.
Arthur observes me inquisitively.
"Are you feeling fine?" he asks.
I wonder if he recalls nothing of what happened to me, to us. The question burns on my lips, but I wipe the tears away and smile.
"I'm fine. What did you want to show me?" I ask.
"I happened to tune on a frequency shifted by 3.2 eons from our current frequency, and I found something that puzzled me. It seems to concern us. I'd call it a clever prank if only I didn't have the feeling that it's actually true," Arthur starts and pauses.
"Come on Arthur, don't play the mystery man," I reply impatiently.
"Ok," he says, producing a pin-sized device from his pocket.
He places it on the bench and says, "Frequency 'o', 3 dot 2 dot shift dot eon dot local."
The light of the room dims, and the iced whiteness of the walls turns into a mellow cream colour, and an instant later the room is populated by a scenery of the past. My past. Our past.
I see myself holding a flag dominated by an owl, surly, huge, his long claws tight on a book I remember seeing.
Arthur is beside me, and Matt and Wilhelm, and a crew of no more than a hundred soldiers, some mounted, some on foot.
A cloud of dust materializes from a far-away distance, and I wait.
I am not afraid but tense, knowing I should not trust who will meet the other Iris I am seeing. I'd want to ask the other Iris what is happening, and for an instant she seems to sense my presence and looks up at the sky.
The cloud thickens, becomes larger, and at last I see the face of the enemy. I smile carelessly before recomposing my face into an expressionless mask.
Ludwig is carrying a flag dominated by two swords, larger than my owl, crossed over a book sliced in half.
Beside him is the queen, the woman who once married my father the king and who was never my mother.
Behind them is an army of no less than a thousand soldiers, all mounted.
Chapter 37
Iris scrutinizes Ludwig for a long moment, before shifting my attention to the queen.
"My father the king sends you his respects," she tell her, my mouth bitter with hatred.
The queen's face turns pale.
"My mother the queen belongs to where she stands now," Ludwig retorts.
"She doubtlessly does. You've got your rewards at last, it seems," Iris says ironically.
"Not all of them," Ludwig replies.
"I'm here to set the terms, not to obey" Iris hears herself state.
"You will come with me and return the last thing that belongs to me," Ludwig says.
"What would that be?" Iris asks, although she know.
Ludwig sighs, as if making a huge effort to remain patient.
"Either you follow me spontaneously, or I will take you against your will. Either way, you will come with me and return what belongs to me," he says calmly.
Arthur brings his hand to the sword, and I sense his gest reflected in the body language of our soldiers. I no longer know if I am witnessing the scene or living it.
"This was not the deal," Iris replies.
"This is the deal now," Ludwig says.
"If you hurt me, you will hurt yourself. And if you kill me, you'll die," Iris states, coolly.
Sitting in my spaceship light years away from Earth, I observe myself having a conversation I don't fully understand, in a time from which I've departed.
"I never said I wanted to hurt or kill you. At least for now," Ludwig grins.
"I am saying it," I intervene, and now it's really me talking, Iris in the spaceship looking at the projection of me reverberating from the channel at frequency 'o', 3 dot 2 dot shift dot eon dot local.
Everyone freezes, including the other me.
"No, Iris," the two Arthurs say in unison.
"No, Iris," Ludwig echoes.
It's too late though, because I've triggered something in that other me and now the sword that hung from my belt is pressing against my throat, as my hand holds it defiantly. I am filled with hatred for everything, including myself, in this spaceship and in that other time. My vision blurs, I cannot care if I die.
>
"Don't," repeats Ludwig, but that's a mistake, because the fear in his voice only galvanizes my anger.
"Don't," Arthur repeats, and his pleading tone flexes my determination for the briefest moment, before the blade sinks into my flesh and the life seeps out of my neck in crimson gushes.
I am one with the other me now, and when she falls from the horse, holding the wound she inflicted to herself, I drop on the floor too, moaning.
"Iris," I hear in duplicate, the incredulous despair echoing from the two Arthurs.
I attempt one last smile, refusing to yield to death till blackness dawns on the colours of my day.
Chapter 38
"Iris?what have you done? Drink?drink?drink," I hear, the words propagate through my muffled senses.
It's my mother's voice.
The sour tasting fluid diffuses within me, reviving my agonizing body.
"If I had not been there disguised as a soldier's you would have died. Why, Iris?" my mother asks me, without expecting an answer.
I cannot see or speak, but I can hear her words.
"Drink," she repeats, pouring a second fluid in my mouth, bitter with just a tinge of sweetness, and I open my eyes.
"Is Ludwig alive?" I ask when I manage to speak.
"He is. If you die the royal family will have no future, regardless of Ludwig's fate. Are you aware of this?" my mother says, her tone reproachful and worried at once.
I shake my head no, lying.
"Yes you are," she says.
"Is Ludwig alive?" I insist, ignoring her admonitions.
"Yes he is," my mother confirms.
I want to hit my womb to destroy all it holds, even if that means my own death. I raise my hand, ready to strike, but my mother grabs my wrist, looking at me sternly.
"You are to listen to me very carefully, Iris," she tells me.
Immobile, I look at her.
"Tell me the truth," I reply.
"Ludwig always resented being second born," she starts, and I nod.
"He decided that he deserved a better destiny, and devised a way to create a copy of himself who - he hoped - would achieve the status of leader. That copy is the man you saw today," she tells me.
"How did Ludwig duplicate himself?" I want to know.
"You once met a man in Boulder CO. He told you not to jump through a crack in a room that felt familiar and yet unknown. Do you remember?" she asks me.
All I remember are flecks of a dream, or perhaps even not flecks, just the feeling they left behind.
"Vaguely," I tell her.
"That man didn't want you to come back to change the course of things. If you hadn't, Ludwig would be the king now. We all counted on you, Iris, and you didn't disappoint us," she tells me.
I feel a huge burden on me.
"What does that man have to do with Ludwig?" I want to know.
"He's the one who created Ludwig's copy," she explains.
"So why did he not prevent me from doing what would change the course of things?" I ask.
"He couldn't. Once your decision was made he could not stop you. Even if he had prevented that specific action in Boulder you would have pursued the plan in other ways," my mother tells me.
"But I had no plan," I object.
"You did, although you were not consciously aware of it," my mother corrects me.
I struggle to decipher my mother's meaning. Surrendering, I decide to divert the subject.
"And the mother of this new Ludwig is the queen," I say.
"Your father the king was married to the queen, but she was never loyal to your family. Ludwig had chosen her to be his mother, to foster the enemy within the very womb of the royal family. If Ludwig's plan had worked your brother would have been an identical copy of your uncle, shifted in time," she tells me.
"And how come uncle's plan failed?" I want to know.
"Why do you ask? You must know the answer already. Ludwig was extracted from the queen's womb, and his embryo was stored in a place where I thought it would not be found," she tells me.
"Not within me?" I ask, sitting up, lit by the sudden hope that I am not carrying the vermin within me.
"Only a small fragment of him is inside you. That fragment allows you to control his life and death, and ensures that he cannot kill you without killing himself," my mother says.
I let myself drop back on the bed, defeated.
"Wait, let me finish the story," says my mother, gripping my wrists.
"The woman who married your father was a clone, you know?" she continues.
"What?!" I exclaim.
My mother nods.
"Yes, the original seed of the queen was raised in a faraway place, in a country of ferocious invaders, the same barbarians who have been menacing the future of the royal family. The future descendants of this nation created the clone and ensured that it got married to your father, to destabilize the royal family," my mother explains.
"How do you know this, mother?" I ask her.
"I've lived longer than you have, my child," she replies, smiling sadly.
"And so the man I've seen today is the son of the barbarian queen?" I ask.
My mother nods.
I pause for a moment, and then say, "I no longer want to have any part of Ludwig within me, whatever the consequences."
"I've realized this today," my mother tells me.
I wait for her to continue.
"I will give you a potion that will expel the last fragment of Ludwig from you. But beware! Once you'll drink it your life will be in jeopardy, and so will the fate of the royal family," she warns me.
I nod my understanding.
"Once you'll exhale Ludwig's last fragment I will store it in a bottle, in a numbing solution. I pray the gods that Ludwig will not find it", my mother tells me.
I nod again.
"But prayers are not good enough. The seed must be destroyed," she says.
I want Ludwig dead, and yet I gasp.
"The facts have proved that there is no other alternative," my mother states coolly.
"Then why store the seed in a bottle? Why not destroy it now?" I want to know.
"Because only you can destroy it," she tells me, enunciating the words slowly as their weight sinks within me.
"Me?" I fumble.
"Yes, you, and you alone," she confirms.
I drop silent.
"But you cannot do so now. You must first find the door and open it, and learn all the answers it conceals," she says, before bringing a flask to my mouth, and pouring the potion down my throat before I can speak another word.
The potion creeps inside me in fingers of pain, excruciating, twisting my womb, and I scream as I've never screamed before.
And yet, before I black out, an infinite and liberating happiness elates within me.
I am finally free.
Chapter 39
"What is happening, Iris?" I hear, as the warmth of a familiar embrace wraps around me.
I ball up, holding my abdomen, shattered by a pain so lacerating I cannot reply.
"Iris," I hear again.
The pain relents, without fully subsiding.
"Are you ok?" Arthur asks me.
"Not really," I mumble.
"What is happening?" he asks again.
"Ludwig is finally out of me," I say.
Arthur's lack of understanding translates into a moment of silence.
"My mother took him out of me, finally," I continue.
"Are you in pain?" Arthur asks, caressing my forehead.
"Freedom isn't painless, you know?" I reply, laughing bitterly.
Then, turning serious, I say, slowly, "I will kill him".
"How?" Arthur asks.
"My mother told me that the door is the way to his death," I tell him enigmatically.
Arthur waits for me to continue.
"My mother told me that I cannot find a way to rid myself and my family of Ludwig unless I find the door. I don't know why, and I don't even know whi
ch door I have to find, let alone where to find it. Or maybe I do?deep down I think I know, but I still have to retrieve the answers within me. I don't have them now," I say, speaking rapidly, talking to myself more than to Arthur.
I've just finished speaking when I hear a loud thump, and only now I realize that we are still in the same elevator in which I lost conscience. We're still in Mine 503, ascending from the room in which Arthur walked out of a movie in which he, my brother, and I were starring. I remember we were digging out remnants of a space ship that used to be mine.
Dream or reality?
I am no longer sure that we are truly in an old, jerky, elevator in Mine 503, which just stopped with a loud thump.
"Arthur, where are we?" I ask, needing confirmations.
"We are still in the mine, I suppose," he says, without much assurance in his voice.
"At least we agree on our supposition," I smile, shrugging.
Suddenly the elevator door opens. Arthur offers me his hand, pulls me up and we step into a room with no windows and no doors.
We look around, inspecting the bare walls, the barren space.
There's nothing for us here.
"We need to go back," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
Arthur shakes his head no. I turn towards the spot where the elevator was and I find it's gone.
"Oh, I see the problem," I sigh.
We stand in the middle of the room, with no doors to escape from.
"I must find the door to kill Ludwig," I state abruptly.
As soon I make the statement, four doors materialize on the four walls of the room. They seem painted on the walls.
I observe them, skeptical, suddenly defiant.
The doors open, and the sketch of a man looking like a joker appears at the bench of each of them. They laugh a fake laugher.
Which door, door, door, door?, the room echoes.
I look around, and my head starts to spin.
Which door, door, door, door?, the room echoes once more.
"This is not true," I state, looking at Arthur, but he's just as lost as I am.
"Which door should we try?" I ask him, even if I know I won't get an answer.
Arthur rolls his gaze around, as the laugher bounces in the room, the trails of noise knitting a spider web around us.
The doors multiply and the disorienting sounds spins around us till my head pounds so hard I cannot think.
Which door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door, door?, a hundred jokers ask me, sneering at my impotence.