“You’ll never believe what Troll showed me this morning.” I figure there’s no harm in all of us practicing with the weapons. Apparently, Troll does not perceive this as a threat. And I actually believe the thing is enjoying our company. We need time to consider our options.
We take the lift to the munitions stores and spend the afternoon in noisy revelry. Bets the archer is particularly enthralled with the high-powered plasma rifle. While she pumps rounds at imaginary game, Theo and I talk quietly about our condition. “I’m hoping that Troll has difficulty understanding us while Bets is making all that racket,” Theo says. “It isn’t a coincidence that Jonston’s your ancestor, Sprouter. And that shipwreck from space has got to be important as well.”
I nod. “Can you believe that there’s a whole race of humans beyond this place? Do you think they’d help us if they knew what’s happening?”
“We’ve got to get to that ship and see what’s there. My gut tells me it’s the reason we came here.”
Troll’s voice steps in. “As I have said before, you cannot leave here. I cannot risk you divulging information about the whereabouts of this facility.”
I respond quickly. “Sorry, Troll. We’re very content and happy here. You must’ve misheard us.” I look at Theo with wide eyes. Flip is scratching his head, while Bets looks annoyed.
“Very well. I have prepared a meal for you. Please join me soon.”
This is going to get old very fast.
Chapter 50 – Escape
I’m falling asleep in my luscious bed when the god Fromer appears in the chair next to me. He’s smiling with his weird face and I’m unsure whether I’m conscious or slumbering. If I’m awake, Troll will be sure to see this visit as curious and intervene with a visit from its box.
“Don’t worry Amy, you’re the only one that can see me.” Fromer’s deep, raspy voice comforts me. “A nice thing about being in between the cracks of reality is that I can slip in and out of your dreams. This is a form of telepathy that your mind has already grasped. As I’m sure you and your friends have realized, you’re all in great danger.”
“So, we’ve made a mistake? Coming here?” If this weren’t a dream, I’d throw something at the bug.
“No, no. You’re in the right place at the right time. Being here will allow you to find your family. However, how you handle the next few days will determine how many of you leave alive.” He scratches the tuft of hair on his head.
Fromer stands and walks around the room touching the curtains, straightening a doily on a table, even sitting on the loo with his spindly legs outstretched. “Do you still think gods destroyed your ancestors’ world?”
“If it weren’t for you and the green people, I’d doubt that gods exist at all.” I’m angry. I want my baby back. And this giant insect knows how to get me there but won’t tell me how. “Fromer, I think people made all this stuff, including that monster box thing, Troll, and it destroyed them. How did people live back then, with everything handed to them? Where was their freedom?”
“Amy, you talk about this as if it is in the past. If you look into the sky, this is still the normal condition for the trillions of humans and their kin, including my kind. You and your people here on earth are unique. It’s time for us to talk about how to get you, Flip, Bets, and Theo out of your trap. Lucky for you, Troll has its weaknesses. As you’ve noticed, the previous human inhabitants didn’t have me to help them out and they suffocated for it. Their greatest error was underestimating the cold logic of the hums, sorry, I mean human-machine interfaces to you. This is how you all survive. First rule — communicate with each other only by writing. Use strips of paper from the washroom and write in private, when Troll isn’t paying much attention.” He points at the loo. “You’ll have to use your imagination about what to use for ink. In addition to concealing your conversations, you’ll need to control your feelings. Troll’s very good at recognizing human emotions. It can tell when you’re lying, even if you’re convincing to others. You need to stay relaxed. I know, easier said than done. You’ve got to work with the others to make this happen. Troll’s programmed to read and respond to human behavior. This computer was a very early model, one of the first of its kind. Are you understanding me so far?”
“What are we going to use for ink?” I ponder.
“Focus, Amy. Human actions are very complex and often illogical. This requires a huge amount of processing power to interpret computationally and it slows Troll down. You may have noticed that Troll needs to think about certain situations for a while before acting. This is Troll’s weakness. When you are ready to escape, the key is for you all to act strangely — for humans that is.” He smiles. “Talk backwards. Speak gibberish. Walk in reverse. Laugh for no reason. Dance. Throw food. Sing silly songs. Whatever. Just do everything out of context.”
“We’re to act like we’re wanked?”
“Wanked, drunk, completely touched, whatever you’d like. When you do this, it should be simultaneous and calculated. You won’t have much time, so you’ll have to act quickly. Luckily, Troll has shown the henhouse to the foxes. You’ve plenty of firepower necessary to blow Troll’s head off and then get out of this place.”
“Head? Do you mean that we’re to destroy Troll’s box?”
“Goodness no. That’s just a tool Troll uses to move materials around the facility. There are at least twelve of those confounded robots rolling around. In fact, you’ve interacted with at least three of them, although you think they’re all the same unit. They’re identical. Troll’s brain, if it were, is nestled in the lower level of this compound with the delightful mummified bodies. You’ve seen it already. It is a small glass box on a pedestal in the center of the room. The trick for you and your friends will be fetching a few concussion grenades from the armory upstairs, bringing them downstairs, and using them to blow up Troll’s processor without killing yourselves.”
“How do we do that?”
“Act crazy. And cooperate.”
I realize Fromer may know the whereabouts of Wenn and father, if he was indeed the cloaked figure that Flip spoke of. “Mister Fromer, I need to know. Were you the one that took my father and husband?” He is about to speak and then vanishes as the lights in my room rise and my bed lurches.
“Amy Marksman, please wake up. Your companion Flip needs assistance.” I’m troubled to see one of Troll’s roving boxes, robots as Fromer called them, perched at the foot of my bed. Speechless, I follow it upstairs to the munitions room. Flip is standing there with an active concussion grenade in his hand. Bets looks at me with a mixture of helplessness and disgust. All Flip needs to do is to take his finger off the button and we have until the count of three to escape.
“Flip, honey. What’s the matter?” I say with my best soothing voice.
“I can’t stay here Amy. Troll’s got to let us go. Those bodies — they’re just like home. And he did it.”
“Flip, we like it here. I’m sure you’re confused about Troll’s hospitality. He’ll do anything he can to make us happy.” While I say this, I’m trying to use my eyes to let him know that what I’m saying is complete chicken crap.
Flip’s obviously out of his mind and not reading me. I change tactics. “Flip, please calm down and shut off the weapon. We can work this out. You’re tired and need to think this out a bit.” I nod encouragingly.
Flip seems to respond and sits down. I walk up to him and touch his shoulder. He sobs and Bets quickly grabs the grenade, turning its switch from red to green. I turn to the Troll box. “Sorry Troll. He’s a boy, immature and confused. He’s lost his family — out there. We really appreciate your help.” The box turns and disappears beyond the door.