CHAPTER THREE

Knowing there was little he could do about his mental state, Dante instead wandered 999 in a feeble attempt to quell his emotions. On the sixtieth level was an incredible view of the Hell reactor, an unnatural wonder of Mobius created by Nanos long before Dante was conceived. Held in place by forces unseen, the Hell reactor rotated in an way almost planetary in nature, and as it spun a spiral of energy would crest above it similar to dolphins, curving upward before splashing back down, returning to its origin and bringing with it an even stronger version of itself. This reactor operated at all hours of all days, and from time to time Dante would find himself staring at it with a banal expression as he struggled with his more impressive personal problems.

A couple of people passed him while he pressed his hands into the guard rail. Dante thought about how foolish Pluto was being—if that was even his real name—how little he seemed to care for being accurate in his story. His claimed origins of Stratum 56 were as impossible to clarify as they were to exist; his true age would be somewhere between one and two centuries despite appearing a man of early middle years; his weapon, the Hellwhip, was never confiscated. Dante had been sure of this. He checked and double checked and checked some more, but there were no records of any weapon being taken from the man known as Captain Pluto. Had it been, he would have asked to run some tests and see if the power of it were as Pluto had said, something devastating. But as far as he could tell, there was no way to check the information he was being given.

It was as if his job had been reduced to recording the rambling fairy tales of a long lost loon.

Still, Dante wished if anything to at least prove whether or not these recordings held any merit.

The Hell reactor continued its display, the sound of wind compressing a comforting one indeed.

It was then that Dante realized there was another way to verify the Hellwhip’s existence. Removing his PCD, he set the dial to Giovanni’s receiver. “Giovanni? …Yes, it’s Dante. Hey, while recording that criminal’s stories… Yes, the one who claims to be him. Yeah. …Anyway, I was thinking about it and he mentioned that he had a weapon. When I checked the records there appeared to be nothing taken. Is it possible they took it to… Okay, meet me there? …Sure, see you.”

Dante ran off to the elevator, the sound of the Hell reactor echoing in his head.

“I’m glad you came to me about this.”

Giovanni sounded exhausted as he lead Dante through the slender hallways of the high offices, a place Dante seldom went. This was a place for only the most important leaders of 999, those who oversaw the strata in great detail and ran all of its systems. Giovanni’s boss worked there, someone Dante had only heard mention of in passing. Normally a trip to this area would be cause for excitement, but the anger Dante saw in Giovanni kept him from feeling anything but nervous.

“I didn’t think you knew anything about it, honestly. I just thought it was odd that a weapon was mentioned but unaccounted for.”

Smiling slightly despite his obvious annoyance, Giovanni shook his head, “No you didn’t. You merely wished to confirm your suspicions. And hey, unless I can prove it’s been done here, you might be right.”

Dante was about to defend himself but Giovanni held a hand up for silence.

They approached a pair of doors and Giovanni unceremoniously swung them open.

Three men stood up in frightened succession, each one wearing a look of fear as their eyes shot towards Giovanni, as well as a look of confusion upon their seeing Dante. All three men made simultaneous noises like a group of cornered animals before Giovanni put on a fake smile and stepped forward, starting to slowly circle the men like a predator.

“Don’t mind me, gentlemen. I’m just here on a routine search.”

One man gulped loudly and said, “Oh? A search for what?”

“It would be foolish to lie to me, Marcus. I might be busy overseeing the recorders but that doesn’t mean I’m so busy that I don’t notice things.” Giovanni lifted a chair and searched underneath, then began feeling around under the cushion. “While it may be silly of me to accuse you three bumpkins of participating in at best unethical, at worst illegal activities, it would be remiss of me to not go forth with a search of your quarters. After all, anything unaccounted for is cause for alarm, especially if it were found that what was unaccounted for were some sort of dangerous device. Why that would be an existential threat to 999, and well, we all know that can’t happen, right?”

By then the three men were all shooting glances at one another, speaking without words and trying to come up with something. They were obviously cornered. But even then Dante refused to believe that the men had a Hellwhip to steal. More likely, he thought, they had stolen something of significance to them and no one else.

Giovanni opened their refrigerator and gasped dramatically. “Well, well, well. Now you boys may just be a couple of fools, but even I know you aren’t supposed to refrigerate this.” He pulled out a ration of dried out fruit. Dante chuckled at the sight, and the three men appeared to let out a sigh of relief.

“Will none of you step forward and tell me where it is?”

The question was forward, with little more than a slim veil hiding the threat underneath. Still, the three men were silent.

“Marcus, Chris, Galileo; I know that the three of you were stationed on the night we captured Captain Pluto. I know that it was the three of you who brought him back to us already cuffed and slightly beaten. And in case you didn’t know, I’m aware that there was a significant period of time after you had found him and before you had called for the aid of the recording department to apprehend, sedate, and process Captain Pluto.”

The words hung heavily in the air. Dante was beginning to wonder what was to happen.

“Now I would prefer not losing three good—albeit stupid—workers over something as foolish as this. That is what will happen, too. If none of you come forward before me and my associate leave, then all three of you will be replaced within the hour. Do I make myself clear?”

Following another pregnant pause, the man known as Galileo wordlessly opened the refrigerator once more, pulled a tab on the door revealing a hidden door within the door. On its shelves were many things of which Dante didn’t care, but clearly there was a weapon which Galileo grabbed and after slamming the doors shut handed off to Giovanni. Turning the weapon over, Giovanni showed it to Dante and asked if it fit the description of the Hellwhip spoken of by Captain Pluto.

Dante remained cautious about confirming the Hellwhip to be the true weapon. He searched it, identifying first the trigger. It was heavy but fluid, matching Pluto’s description. Next he searched the side of the barrel and found a knob for which to select the level, indicated on a circle surrounding the knob, going from level one all the way up to six. This appeared to indicate to Dante that this was the true weapon, and he was nearly ready to confirm it when he noticed something off.

“Something wrong?” Giovanni asked, more annoyed than concerned.

“Well,” Dante muttered, barely understandable as he tinkered with the selector knob, “Captain Pluto said something about… hmm… about how when you select a level you would hear a hum. I can’t hear… nope, no, I can’t hear anything no matter the level I select. Therefore this would not be the Hellwhip he spoke of.”

Brow furrowed, Giovanni looked to the three men and saw their wanton faces, all appearing ready for an apology and their property returned. “Hmph, well I’ll be keeping it anyway.”

Outside of Pluto’s cell Giovanni and Dante sat on the cold metal floor of Mobius, neither one of them looking at each other. Giovanni held the Hellwhip up to the light, frowning deeply at it.

“You’re certain this isn’t what you were looking for?” he asked, pointing it down the hall as if it were a toy and he were a child.

Dante shook his head. “I can’t be completely certain, but if it doesn’t hum then it’s either broken or not the Hellwhip he spoke of. And even if it were, how can I be sure it works as he stated?”

“What do you mean?”

“He said it would disintegrate flesh at level three, for instance. We don’t exactly have a way to test that.”

Without saying anything, Giovanni removed from his pocket the ration that was in the refrigerator the Hellwhip had been in. After tossing it to the ground, Giovanni set the weapon to level two, pointed, and pulled the trigger while aiming at the ration. Dante flinched in anticipation, but nothing emitted from the weapon. Not a sound, not a projectile.

“Hmph. Well, it’s either broken or it is as you say.”

Dante sighed and rubbed at the stubble growing on his chin. “I have to confirm it somehow, Giovanni. If I don’t then there’s no real way for us to verify whether or not this man truly is Captain Pluto.”

Giovanni gave Dante a sly smile, and Dante became irritated with him. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re beginning to believe he’s the real Captain Pluto, aren’t you?”

Dante snorted. “Not really. He claims to be from a ridiculous distance away, to the point where the time debt he would incur would cause him to be generations older than us. No, if anything I’m wondering if he has received some kind of damage to his mind. Perhaps this ‘Hellwhip’ is merely a strong pistol, or something similar to our Positron Beam Emitters. The way he describes this weapon sounds more like the stuff of nightmares than of reality.”

“You just don’t want to admit the legend could be real,” Giovanni said, dropping the weapon in Dante’s lap. “Well, if you want to confirm whether that’s his weapon then just ask him yourself. I’m sure they’ll have gotten him thoroughly drugged up soon enough. Once he’s of the right state of mind you can just show it to him and see how he reacts.”

“That’s highly unethical!” Dante called after him, but received nothing more than a wave in response. Seeing that Pluto was still being dealt with and there were still a few hours before morning, Dante decided to sleep on the floor, or rather his mind decided it was time to rest no matter where he sat.

“Excuse me? Mr. Dante?”

A member of the nursing crew knelt down to Dante’s level, and with a little embarrassment Dante wiped his lips of saliva. The nurse smiled at him and said, “Sorry to wake you, Mr. Dante, but we’ve brought your subjects levels down to normal again.”

Fighting through grogginess, Dante asked, “Will he be healthy, then? Or should I keep you on call just in case?”

“We’ve done much to keep him healthy, but it’s difficult to say. He’s… different from many of our typical subjects.”

“How so?”

The nurse shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure how to describe it. That man is certainly unlike any I’ve worked on. Were we able to, I would run some tests on him and get a few scans just to see what’s going on with him, but since he’s being executed in a few days there’s no way that would be allowed.”

Dante nodded, not quite understanding.

“Well, either way, that guy is not quite normal, whatever he is. Still, I’d wager he should remain healthy right up until his final day.”

“Good to know. I’ll still be ready to call in the event you’re required again. Thank you, nurse.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Dante.”

Gathering himself up, Dante entered his subjects cell and grimaced at the sight. This wasn’t the first time he had to deal with a subject whose health was failing them. In fact, in Dante’s summation, it was probable that upon learning of their fates the prisoners would accelerate the process of their own deaths subconsciously, chemically inducing their own euthanization without the aid of any alien substance. Despite knowing this, it never made things easier for Dante. Not because he felt particularly bad for his subjects—they were nearly always irredeemable—more because it became more difficult to receive valuable information once their health began to dwindle.

Captain Pluto was now bedridden, a shackle linking him to his bed by his wrist more for show than for function. An IV dripped a chemical into his system to rebalance him, giving the illusion of perfect health. Most of Dante’s subjects were usually unable to speak well upon receiving treatment. Often times a day would be skipped in the telling of their story, or if the health of the subject was bad enough Dante would simply close the case and move on, understanding that it would be futile to waste more time on someone who is barely there anymore.

Yet as the nurse had said, Captain Pluto was no ordinary man.

He sat upright in his bed, staring into a dark corner of the room and pulling at the hair on his chin with something akin to thoughtful annoyance. Even after he heard the door shut he held his attention on that dark spot, and Dante wasn’t sure if he should speak until Captain Pluto began speaking anyway.

“Is it day three?” he asked as though nothing strange had happened.

Dante set about to preparing the recording device. “Yes, it is.”

“Well then, we only have five sessions counting this one, right?”

Furrowing his brow, Dante nodded. “Correct, why?”

Captain Pluto plucked a hair from his chin and winced. “Then I should probably skip around a bit. Were I to continue in absolute chronology we would never get to anything meaningful, and if you are recording my story then I should be as selective as possible.”

“It’s hardly believable that any one man could have such a long tale to tell,” Dante commented without thinking, finding the idea childish.

Grinning, Pluto finally looked into Dante’s eyes. “You know, I’ve always liked men like you.”

“Oh? I should hope that’s a compliment.”

“It is. You’re highly enviable to someone like myself.”

Dante found himself smiling, though he wished he weren’t. “Yes, I’m sure that my lack of a death sentence is coveted deeply by someone like you.”

“I could care less about that,” Pluto said jocularly. “If I could be candid with you, I envy your total acceptance of isolation more than anything.”

For a second, Dante almost became too angry to hold himself back.

“Haha! I can tell you took that the wrong way. No matter, I understand you would think I’m being rude to you on purpose. And you know, perhaps most of the people you interview like this are rude to you. Maybe they have every right to be. But me? I kind of admire your ability to just tune it all out. You’ve obviously got nothing besides this, and from what I can tell you don’t seem to covet more. No desire to move up in your world, no real desire to escape or feel free in some way. No I think you feel something close to freedom in the shackles you wear, and there’s something to be said for that.”

Composing himself, Dante glared deeply into Pluto’s baggy eyes. “Mr. Pluto, I’d like to get started before we waste any more time.”

Smirking, Pluto nodded. “Sure thing, sure thing.”

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Now as I said, I’ll be skipping a portion of my adventure. Much of course happened after my journey to Stratum 58, but these misadventures are largely inconsequential and would take more time and energy to relay like this, especially given my decaying health. So I will explain to you now something important which happened to me on Stratum 117, a location which took many years to reach.

By this time my body had been hardened by my war with the Nanos. Sleep was hard to come by, and food was even more scarce, but the NRS machines were enough to maintain my body for the most part and my time spent in areas of lowered gravity meant my height was greater than expected. I’d even met a few nice folks along the way who were able to give me clothing they had made so that I wore a makeshift cloak over my skin suit with a nice hood on it, allowing for me to more comfortably maneuver in the typically cold hallways of most of the strata.

Little had changed when it came to my mission. I still sought the edge of Mobius, and after years of denial it had become obvious that Poe was no illusion. The black dots had faded but his voice remained, and his help was absolutely valuable to me.

One thing still remained a mystery to us, however; the Nano who had saved me on 58, their identity and intentions were unknown to us. It had continued to tail me all the way to Stratum 117. I would catch rare glimpses of it as we traveled, always seeing it just far enough away that if I tried to approach it would disappear, and on a few more occasions after 58 it had saved my life. Still, I knew nothing of its origin, and that worried me.

“Poe, you don’t think that Nano could be guiding me to the end of Mobius, do you?”

I had asked Poe many questions regarding this particular Nano, but his answers were always vague.

It’s difficult to know such a thing. Even if it were true, however, what would it matter? Our destination remains our destination. The mission doesn’t change if there’s a rogue Nano helping you along the way.

Of course, he was right. My feelings still told me that I should find more out about the Nano, and for a long time it was my tertiary mission to apprehend and question the Nano, to see what its true nature was.

And so begins my tale of Stratum 117.

Stratum 117 is contrary to 999 in most ways. Whereas 999 is a massive governing body filled with workers who oversee the colonies of what—five? Ten strata? Whatever the number, it oversees multiple strata below it as a sort of capital. This is uncommon for most colonies on Mobius. The area of 117 was what I would consider the most common set up as far as populated strata are concerned. Allow me to paint a picture for you.

As with most locations here, it is a sort of cylinder in its general shape. However 117 was created as an environment for humans. Why Nanos would do such a thing is impossible to guess. Do they look at us like captive animals, studying from afar? Or is their programming like a broken clock, working every so often and creating what it was most likely meant to create—a place for humans to live? Your guess is as good as any. The bottom half of the cylinder for 117 is filled with a makeshift replication of Earth; there are rivers and ponds, gardens and forests, and towns of brick and mortar for the people to live in. Even stranger, the top half of the cylinder replicates the sky of Earth by creating holographic clouds and storm fronts during what would be the local daytime hours, and during the night hours those images disappear and instead you can see out of Mobius into space through massive windows. It’s not uncommon for these sorts of setups to occur on Mobius, but as you are well aware, Dante, you can go an entire lifetime without seeing it.

And it’s truly beautiful.

While I’m still unsure if the items used in those areas are real or falsifications meant to gratify the human psyche, it’s still difficult to wander a place like 117 and not feel the tug of emotions, the feeling that you should never leave. That you are truly in Eden.

For this reason, when I reached 117 I vowed to stay for a long time. Poe wasn’t very pleased with this notion.

You realize that won’t work, right? You’re not on some pleasurable adventure here. This is a punishment for your earlier transgressions on 56.

“You truly believe that?” I asked. We were alone in the room we had been staying in for roughly one month, a fine hotel in the center of the city.

You don’t?

“I used to,” I said, yawning as I prepared for sleep. “The thing is, when I was given this mission I was told that the Nanos wanted it done. That I was supposed to be relaying information back to 56. That hasn’t happened at all, so it was obviously some kind of lie. My punishment is exile. What’s the harm in staying here where it’s comfortable?”

The harm?

Poe sounded offended. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

You might be older, but you’re still acting like a child. Mobius will continue to create itself, swallowing up the galaxy, then the universe. Eventually there will be no resources for it to pull, and the entire universe will die out because of it. Its a mechanical parasite, destroying all of space. And you want it to continue just so you can be surrounded by some fake scenery?

“Fake or no, it looks real to me. Besides, Poe, if it’s truly as big as you say, I have no chance of reaching the end of Mobius. It’s a fools errand. I can receive anti-aging treatments, I can skip strata somehow if I find a way I suppose, but even if that were the case how big do you think Mobius is? Truly, if you had to guess, how many strata are there?”

At this current moment, there are no fewer than 1120 strata in Mobius.

“Exactly, and it’s taken me ages just to get through around sixty of them. I have over a thousand to go, that’s lifetimes of traveling and they won’t stop building so I can catch up. This is an impossible task.”

Poe didn’t speak, and for once I felt sad. His lack of a response meant I was right, the entire journey was built on some fantasy I couldn’t hope to achieve.

“Look, we’ll stay for a little longer and then we can move on. Who knows when the next chance will come for me to get some proper sleep and eat real food.”

I suppose it couldn’t hurt to let you indulge in their famous engineered steak.

Smiling, I said, “It might be fake but it’s better than rations. Most of that shit is dry and nearly flavorless.”

True, and yet poor tasting food is the reason you were exiled to begin with.

The following day I decided to take in the sights and eat the best food I could. Thankfully 117 ran on a system using credits for payment, and I had earned plenty over the course of my journey. This meant I could do whatever I wanted for quite some time without needing to find some form of employment. So, in an act of pure autonomy I decided to travel to the garden at the edge of the city. It was called Seneca Botanical Garden, and it was filled with a number of incredible flowers and bushes, with thin, aesthetically pleasing rivers running through it. Despite the wonderful nature of the place, it wasn’t the most popular spot for people to go to since most people were natives to 117 and found their usual surroundings to be boring, mundane extensions of themselves rather than incredible creations. For them, nature was easy to find despite their life in a steel trap.

As I meandered my way through the floral walkways, I heard a noise from behind me and turned to see a woman standing there. To say she was beautiful would be putting it mildly. Had she not moved I would have thought her a statue, just another part of the garden.

“Sorry,” she said to me, her voice a pleasant surprise. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just wandering myself and saw that you were alone and thought you might want some company.”

You would be foolish to believe such a lie.

“Certainly, would you like to join me as I make my way to the shrine?”

“It would be my pleasure,” she beamed.

I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. A fool will always remain a fool.

The shrine was one of four at the corners of the garden. All four were equally beautiful, surrounded by flowers of a single color and equipped with benches so you might rest while taking in the sights. This particular shrine was surrounded by white flowers only, and the bright scenery complimented her wonderfully.

“You aren’t from around here, are you?” she asked me, suddenly.

“Is it so obvious?”

Giggling, she said, “Well, yes. Not only do most people ignore the garden, but you wear strange clothing. And unless I was mistaken I could swear I heard the clink of metal on you… a weapon?”

Nervously, I nodded.

“Are you some sort of pirate?”

“Pirate?”

She smiled. “Yes, like the ones from before.”

When I asked what she meant, this is what she told me. I’m sure a recorder such as yourself would love to hear it straight from her, but here you go:

“Once, when I was a child no more than five years old, a small band of men came here from the strata below us. They wore clothes almost like yours, black suits with strange, tattered things over top of them, and they carried all sorts of strange weapons I’d never seen before. Guns, I think some of them were, as well as more barbaric things like daggers. My parents and the rest of the adults were completely horrified by them coming here. They said that they were going to kill us all, but all they really did was hang about the bar and tell stories to anyone who would listen.

“Being a child, I was enamored by their oddities and wished to know as much as possible about them. One of them, a man with a full beard and many scars called Grim, told me that they were trying to get rid of all the Nanos so that people could live in peace. When I asked him why, he told me that without having to deal with the Nanos there would be freedom for all those who live in Mobius. Many of the adults who were at the bar heard him speak, not only that day but others too as he would often ramble about their mission while drunk, and they would all just roll their eyes and poke fun at them. You see, most people here find the Nanos to be good, as they created all you see before you.

“Those men stayed with us for around a week. The last day they were driven out by everyone.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Well, they happened to be here during a week where the Nanos were coming to do their quarterly check up on the area. Every three months the Nanos take some time to do routine maintenance to be certain everything is in working order. When those pirates saw the Nanos coming, they stumbled out of the bar and began shooting the Nanos down one by one. There was shrapnel everywhere in a manner of minutes. The Nanos stood no chance against them, even in their drunken state the pirates made quick work of them.

“After that happened, my father got together with the rest of the adults and they drove the pirates out, sending them to 118 and banning them from returning. I ran after them, crying and wishing that they wouldn’t go. Grim waved and winked at me, and ever since I’ve been awaiting the return of pirates.”

I wasn’t completely sure what to say then, so I said something stupid. “Well if that’s what a pirate is then surely I am one.”

“Truly?” she became excited, closing the distance between us until I became uncomfortable.

I would say it’s bad to claim such things, but I’m sure you would do so anyway to enjoy your filthy primal urges.

“I’ve never been called one before, but my mission is to reach the end of Mobius and eradicate all the Nanos.”

“You’re on a mission?”

Her eyes had become starry. I couldn’t not tell her about me. I doubt any man of adequate virility could ignore her requests.

She told me her name was Cat. Short for Cathy, Catherine, or Catalina, I don’t know, but it was obviously a nickname. When she asked me of my name I gave her the same name I had taken to giving people by then, a name I’d created a while ago.

With all the immediacy young infatuation can muster, she brought me to her home and showed me her things, where she grew up, her mother, then her bedroom. Cat spoke endlessly and constantly, a Mobius of the mouth. It was as if she’d been holding in all the knowledge she had stored up over the course of her life in hopes of finally unloading it on one singular entity, that entity being myself.

I found I wasn’t listening, and frightened I’d be discovered I asked her why she brought me there.

Embarrassed, she said, “Well, to show you where I live. I figured you’d be interested.” When I didn’t answer immediately, she asked about where I grew up. Using vague descriptions, I explained in a way that was less detailed than I have to you what my life was like on 56. Being closer to her strata than yours, she believed what I had to say without protest.

Cat gave me a thoughtful look, then looked out the window to the setting sun on the ceiling of 117. “Well, would you like to go get some food with me? I know a place that’s quiet.”

I agreed and she lead me down those winding streets, past the tall buildings of the inner city, through the suburbs across the abandoned tracks—or rather, the tracks whose function was to be abandoned—until we were in an area with a few scattered houses of differing sizes. One such domicile was on the corner, and it had a few signs outside to indicate that it wasn’t just a place of living but also a local restaurant owned by a man named Tony. We entered and were greeted by a woman who lead us to a table and sat us down, and Cat ordered us both food, something called breakfast.

While we waited she nursed her drink and kept staring away from my eyes.

“Is everything alright?” I asked. “You seem occupied by something.”

Cat shook her head, her hair displacing itself wondrously. “Sorry, I’m just tired.”

An obvious lie. Don’t fall for it, she is trying to get something out of you.

Glaring inwardly at Poe, I said, “Well I highly doubt that. If I’m making you uncomfortable I can just go. There is so much for me to do in this place that I’m certain I wouldn’t get bored.”

Somehow what I had said hurt her physically, her countenance fell before me. “Actually, I had a question for you but if that’s the way you feel then I’d best not ask it.”

Frowning, I asked her to say what she wanted to say to me. “Don’t be afraid to ask me things, Cat. You can say whatever you want with me.”

Poe groaned in my head, sounding unpleasant.

Our server was setting our breakfast plates out for us when Cat took a deep breath and said, “I’d like to join you. Can I please go with you to leave 117?”

The food sat steaming between us, myself stunned by the question, Cat obviously worried about my reaction, and of course Poe with the immediate over reaction.

Absolutely not! Is this girl mentally sound? What a ridiculous proposal.

Taking a sip of the juice she had ordered me, I said, “Look, Cat, as much as I’d appreciate having company—”

You already have enough company in me.

“—it’s a highly dangerous journey. I’ve nearly died countless times, and honestly there is little chance I would make it to the edge of Mobius as I’ve been asked to do. You would more than likely be signing your own death sentence, sending yourself away from your family, your friends, and of course your comfortable lifestyle. This food we’re eating, for instance, it looks incredible and will most certainly be a fulfilling experience, one you would do without on our journey. Most of the time I don’t get to eat or sleep, I merely recharge my nutrients through an NRS where I can. And though I can’t be sure why, Nanos are still after me despite my mission coming from them. It’s just not safe, Cat. You would be—”

She waved her hands in a flag of surrender, a playful gesture to hide her sadness. “Okay, okay! I understand. It was just a thought, that’s all.” Then she took a small bite of her meal and said, “Sorry.”

Quietly, we finished our food and were on our way, back to walking back through the city as we had before. Cat walked in step with me, and though it was awkward I still wished to speak with her.

“You know, I was thinking about stopping my journey altogether. Maybe staying here for the rest of my life.”

Cat looked at me with widened eyes, the whites catching the starlight with such immaculacy it made my chest erupt.

“As far as I can tell, my mission is merely a punishment of exile. Picking this place to be exiled to just doesn’t strike me as bad. That’s also why I didn’t want you to join me on my journey. The journey itself might be over for me.”

We crossed a road riddled with noise; noise from the shifting ceiling above us, a manipulated sky of unnatural beauty; noise from the musicians playing instruments created through printing technology and mined materials from who knows where; noise from the crowd of people enjoying their night, another time of peace once again in their walled garden; and the low thrum of my Hellwhip, a constant noise in my ear I can’t seem to shake, the reminder of such destructive power an unceasing nightmare; and through all the noise Cat placed a soft kiss on my cheek, quickly and incorrectly with the unpracticed lips of a young girl, and I drew her close to my side underneath the cloak I wore.

“Well,” she sighed, her head on my shoulder, “if you were to stay then I suppose I should stay too.”

Recall what I said before. If you don’t leave 117, the Nanos will come. This will end poorly for you.

Even the idle threats of Poe couldn’t ruin things for me. Many things have happened to me since that night, but still I believe it to be the best night that I can possibly remember. I remember the sound of the music, the dim of the lights of her room, the scent of her hair as I pet it softly, and the kiss we shared before sleeping. We were young and foolish, but I could tell her kiss was filled with pure love, that she meant it.

I hoped mine felt the same to her.

One local week passed in this way, with minor variations through the days but mostly a consistent schedule of serendipity and discovery, each night ending in passionate displays of affection and each morning beginning with much of the same, and though I wished to see as much of 117 as possible I found as time wore on I wished only to discover more of Cat. In her I found much that I had sought but never found, a sort of catharsis in which I was able to momentarily be free of the curse I carried in my skull, and instead I could merely see her for who she was and she was able to see me for who I wished to be, nothing more than an ordinary man who felt nothing but love and excitement for the ordinary.

Of course, as it always is in my life, these things could never last, only the memory of it could possibly exist forever. And it has been a comfort to me on my journey, certainly, but I can see that you’re already wondering why I would tell you about these seemingly unimportant events of love. I’m sure as a bland scholar of this boring bureaucracy you find love not in people but in your work, so you hardly understand where I’m coming from when I say that I was ready to give up everything just to be with Cat, a girl I’d known for no more than seven local days. Well, as it turns out, many misadventures became integral to who I am today, and this is one of them.

As stated before, we’d known each other for about a week when I began to take what I’d said seriously. Slowly I began to change. Cat and I went out and purchased some clothes that were more in style with what was worn on 117, comfortable wear known as jeans and simple shirt. My skin suit I folded up and hid away along with the cloak, and soon I hid away the Hellwhip, hoping to never require it. The hum I’d grown accustomed to was missing and it felt strange, but the sounds of 117 quickly became something I’d grow used to in a similar fashion. Had Poe not reminded me of what would happen were I to remove the chip housed in my CMP unit, I would have done so and been rid of everything.

Are you insane? If you take the chip out Nanos will swarm this place before you could even think about putting the chip back in. If you’re going to be unreasonable and attempt to stay here, the least you can do is be reasonable about it and leave the chip where it is.

If I recall correctly, I asked Poe to kindly remain quiet so that I might enjoy my new life in peace. He wouldn’t have any of that, of course. Still I couldn’t help but ask anyway. And even with his constant interjections, my life was as close to perfect as it ever had been. As it ever would be.

The day it all came crashing down was another perfect sunny day.

Cat had decided that we should go to the library and we were exploring the second floor, a section filled with some of the ancient books that were somewhat salvageable by the first settlers long ago. Despite 117 having seemingly limitless access to outside resources, the library still functioned as a data library would, though each work was localized to tablets housed on shelves. I’ve only been able to read from a book made of paper once, but it truly is superior to books of data; something about the printed word feels more permanent, more intimate than that of the ethereal letters of a display unit. In any case, the books available ranged widely from fiction to nonfiction, from fantasy to historical works, from classics to works which would more than likely have been forgotten had nothing catastrophic happened to Earth. As we were searching these works, I came across a novel that caught my eye. It was an old story of minor significance, written by an author who more than likely would have been forgotten. The title was Elexendria and it was an intriguing tale, one I quickly became engrossed in. Cat noticed and asked with delight what I was reading, and I showed her and she became rather excited.

“What a story to pick! It’s one of my personal favorites. It’s a shame the author never finished it, though.”

“Oh? That’s a shame. I want to know what happens to the gravedigger.”

Cat shrugged and then appeared to remember something. She swiftly flipped through the many pages before finding what she’d been looking for. “Ah, here we are. Read this passage, I’ve always found it to be beautiful.”

To me I found it intriguing; it was further in the story, a moment between the protagonist and a woman from a far off land, a tender moment in the moonlight. Just as I was about to tell Cat what I thought of it there was a rumble underneath us, and I tossed the book aside. To my shock and horror, below us was a Nano. Not just any Nano, the one that had been following me since my adventure had began.

“Shit,” I swore, “I forgot about him.”

“Him?” Cat whispered. “You know that specific one? It’s quite large!”

“Yeah, that one’s been following me for some reason. I can’t believe I forgot about him!”

Desperately I tried to think of a way out of the situation but I knew there was little I could do. Considering the Nano had followed me for roughly sixty strata, it would have been a difficult task to get rid of it then. Although it had rescued me from time to time as well, it was still rather difficult for me to place its true allegiance. Still, I knew I couldn’t hide from it forever living on a single strata, so I told Cat to stay hidden and I came out from my hiding spot, sweat beading on my forehead from the stress. It had been a long time since I had to confront a Nano without my Hellwhip.

Clearing my throat, I said, “You’re the one who keeps following me.”

The slender Nano stared down at me with its single, large red eye and made a strange beeping noise, eye constricting as it fell to me.

“I’m not sure why you are following me,” I continued, voice shaking despite my best effort, “but you must understand I’m through with this journey. I’ve found a home, here. Whatever service you’ve been providing me, whether it was protection or something else, I’m of need for it no longer. You may return to whatever it was your post originally was.”

In a strangely human act, the Nano knelt down so that we were level with each other and it placed a hand on my shoulder. Then it beeped a few more times, eye widening and constricting as if it were speaking it’s own language. I knew that Nanos could speak the common tongue, however, so I only became confused.

“Are you defective? Is that why you follow me?”

You’ve pressed your luck enough as it is. Why not let it follow you? It hasn’t been a problem yet.

Rubbing the stubble that had appeared on my chin, I asked, “Couldn’t you translate for it? Or find out its origin?”

An uncomfortable pause followed.

Impossible from my location. You’d need to implant my chip into the Nano itself, and if you did that we’d be surrounded before you could get your answer.

Sighing, I said, “Figures. Well I guess I’ll let it follow me then. But you understand that I plan on staying here for the rest of my life, right?”

The Nano nodded, the closest it had gotten to a human response.

I brought Cat down to see the Nano, and though she was interested she was obviously scared, her body shaking all over. There’s little doubt she only did it because I said it would be okay, and she was lucky that I was right. It could have always gone wrong, after all.

We weren’t quite sure how to deal with the Nano. Even while we discussed it, we were constantly reminded of the futility in removing it from our presence as it followed us all the way back to her home. Her parents were highly concerned upon seeing it, and my explanation wasn’t near enough to suffice for them. Cat was able to convince them to allow the Nano to at least stay outside the home, though looks of consternation remained on their saturnine faces.

The discussion we would have regarding the Nano was aimless and not worth recording the entire thing. Suffice it to say, I explained the history I shared with it, Cat was unsure if it was a friend or a foe, and we came up with ideas for it that were mostly jocular in nature, though there were a few ideas that we decided might work out such as it being employed in construction or maintenance work.

One thing was clear: we couldn’t let it just hang around us as it had been. People would misunderstand. Despite there being little reason for the people of 117 to hate the Nanos, there was still a fear of them, something I feel is intrinsic to all humans. Anyone who saw the Nano with us became fearful and ran in the opposite direction.

Just as Cat and I were beginning to grow more intimate there was a crash outside. I ran to the window to see what it was, and was relieved to see that it was only the Nano that had followed us. Somehow it had fallen over and was attempting to free itself from the shrubbery on the side of the home. Turning around, I was about to tell Cat what had happened when there was another crash.

A louder one.

The roof of the home was torn open, and hovering above us were Nanos of varying types and sizes, all eyes constricting and focusing on me. There was a loud buzz, followed by a light being shown directly on me, bright and red.

“You are Extra number one-zero-five! As it has been relayed to us, you have avoided your sentence and have attempted a leisurely existence on this quiet stratum. This is not what was agreed upon. Therefore, unless you agree to leave within the next hour, this entire Stratum will be destroyed.”

My heart was racing. Darting my eyes around, searching for an answer, I saw Cat’s despairing eyes and I wondered what she was thinking.

“In one hour we will come and find you. If you are still here and have not resumed your travels, we will commence the destruction of 117. Good day, One-zero-five.”

And just as fast as they had came, they were gone, leaving Cat’s home in shambles.

Cat and I might have discussed what to do if I had been given more than one hour. I didn’t need Poe to tell me that I had to leave. He did anyway, of course, but it was unnecessary.

I told you. Shirk your duties and death awaits you. Your journey is inevitable.

So I tore off my clothes, tossing them in the corner of Cat’s now ruined bedroom and I found my skin suit and put it back on. My cloak had been cleaned, and wrapping it around me felt nice even despite how I felt about wearing it once again. Then I went to grab my Hellwhip but Cat grabbed my wrist.

“You heard them,” I warned. “If I don’t leave as soon as I can, you will all be destroyed. You, your parents, the rest of the good people living here. Everything will be gone.”

Her hands felt soft as they quivered on my wrist.

“What if the Nano was lying? What if that isn’t what will happen?”

“A fantasy. I’ve traveled far, as I’ve told you already, and there are plenty of places that have been decimated as they have described. There’s no doubt in my mind. If I don’t leave, they will level this place shortly.”

She was as worried as I was, but her emotions were just as tangled as mine too, and tears began falling down her cheeks. A sad smile appeared on my face, and I kissed the tears on her cheeks and told her not to worry. That all would be well once I was gone. That eventually she wouldn’t miss me.

All platitudes, and neither of us believed them.

Soon enough my Hellwhip was on my person once again, and I was making certain that it was charged and in working order when Cat left the room unannounced. My stomach dropped; I had to leave right away, and though I wished to say good bye I knew that it would only be wasting my time. I chanced maybe a second or two, but when she didn’t return I leapt down to where the Nano was outside and began my tragic journey once more, leaving everything behind.

It took me little time to reach the edge of 117. Much less time than I’d anticipated. My knowledge of the area helped greatly, I suppose, but it was still a trip that should have taken much longer than it did. An hour had passed but no Nanos had come for me.

They must realize you are already on your way.

Whether Poe was right or not, I couldn’t say.

“Poe, I need to ask you. Did you—”

Did I tip off the Nanos to your position? Not at all. I warned you before, if you abandon the mission they will come and find you. Besides, I have no way of contacting them in such a way. Nor would I want to.

“What, don’t tell me you would have wanted to live the quiet life with me?”

Absolutely not! I just enjoy my existence, and if I told the Nanos where to find and kill you that would be bad for my life expectancy, right?

“Maybe.”

Even after all the time I’d spent with Poe, I found it hard to believe he didn’t have some part in the Nanos finding me. Whether it was Poe hiding information from me or Poe not realizing he was part of how I could be tracked, I can’t really say. All I knew was that I was miserable. That was the only thing real in that moment.

As we walked, I kept staring at the Nano following us out of the corner of my eye. The more I stared, the angrier I became. Once I couldn’t take it anymore I found my Hellwhip was in my hand and I was pointing it at the Nano, setting the weapon to level three and letting the hum fill the void.

Uh, what exactly are you doing? Haven’t we established this Nano isn’t a threat?

“How can we be so sure? It can’t be a coincidence that this thing shows up and suddenly a bunch of other Nanos are able to find me and send me on my way. It’s this thing’s fault I can’t be here anymore, this thing’s fault I can’t be… Just let me end this.”

I can’t let you make such a mistake! Put the weapon down now, Pluto. Now.

But I didn’t listen. The thing is, I didn’t have to. A buzz was in the air, and both the Nano and I whipped around to see that a bunch of Nanos were floating above us. They weren’t alone, though. Held aloft by her meager wrists, Cat was floating above us, barely conscious and covered in bruises. I made a noise like an animal and pointed the weapon at the Nano holding her, but once again Poe was quick to be the voice of reason.

Fool! Even I know that blast will kill the girl, something I’m certain you would rather avoid.

“Extra number One-zero-five,” the Nano holding Cat said. “Why go through all of this? You are obviously ready to leave, so why have this girl try and mess things up?”

Confused, I asked, “What do you mean?”

“This girl claims to be a member of your crew. She came to us and tried to reason with us why you would be better off here, then when we disagreed she attacked one of our own using this.” A Nano floating to that one’s right held up what appeared to be a metal pipe, something Cat must have found lying around somewhere. “You realize we must now kill you both for this?”

“Cat! Can you hear me?” I yelled it to her with as much volume as I could muster but she remained asleep, head lolling to one side.

The Nano holding her held a sharp claw to her neck, gently letting just a little blood out. “Is this one precious to you?”

I faltered, the Hellwhip lowering as it became heavy in my hands.

“Well then you should have thought about that before sending her to us.”

Unsure of how to handle it, I lifted the Hellwhip again and pointed at the Nano. I nearly pulled the trigger. Would that have been a mistake? Possibly. My aim was slightly above, and I’d lowered the setting so that if I was correct the Nano would simply lose its grip and I would have had the opportunity to catch Cat. That isn’t what happened though, and maybe it was for the best it went as it did.

The curious Nano who had been following me, the one I was ready to destroy mere moments before, leapt into the air and knocked the Nano holding Cat down, and as Cat tumbled through the air the Nano seized her with great speed and care, setting her down into my arms with a gentle sense I had previously only found in humans. My eye was locked in the Nanos makeshift one, the camera in its face, and though I could receive little emotional feedback it felt like something more was there behind the metal facade.

“That Nano has gone rogue!” one of the Nanos buzzing above us screeched. “Destroy it, then destroy the extra!”

Suddenly confident again, I reset the weapon to level three and pointed the Hellwhip at a group of Nanos one handed, with Cat resting in my other arm, the scent of her breath a comfort as I pulled the trigger.

Three of the Nanos exploded into a pile of rubble, and some of the shrapnel sent the other Nanos off in confusion, but I also hurt myself accidentally. Though it was only level three, I had been at an awkward angle and using a Hellwhip one handed—even while wearing a skin suit—is highly inadvisable. Not only is it inaccurate, but even after years of practice you will probably hurt yourself.

The weapon fell awkwardly from my fingers and I swore when I reached down to retrieve it. As I turned to point it again to the sky, my Nano ally held a hand to me.

Then it spoke to me, its voice awkward. Stilted.

Familiar.

“Go. When done meet twice.”

Although he was hardly understandable, I at least knew what “Go,” meant. Wasting no time, I hoisted Cat up with my good arm and escaped to the LG shaft leading to Stratum 118.

“The Nano that had been following me wasn’t ordinary. Somehow, its programming had been tampered with, or as I erroneously thought at the time it could merely be a defective Nano, but this was not the case.”

The entire time Pluto had been speaking, Dante had been thinking about when to present the possible Hellwhip to him. However the longer he spoke, the more it became clear that he just wasn't healthy enough yet. That Dante wouldn't trust him whether he said yes or no. Dante stood up and began readying himself to leave. Pluto had been breathing heavily throughout his tale and appeared to Dante to be too tired to continue. “We’ll pick this up tomorrow. I’m going to call a nurse so that someone can be here to watch you while I’m away.”

Smirking, Pluto said, “You guys really do care about the people you kill, don’t you?”

Folding his equipment beneath his arm, Dante said pointedly, “And you sure seem to give not a care for all those you have murdered.”

Pluto remained silent, save for the heaving of his breath.

“Don’t forget,” Dante said, his voice as grave as his sardonic face would allow, “I may merely be the recorder, but I know why you’re here. I know your crimes. And though I can’t quite place where you have lied, I know you have.”

“How?” Pluto asked, coughing once.

“Intuition. I’ve been listening to people most of my life, Mr. Pluto, and though you may find my life to be a boring one involving no adventure, it is still a difficult one. Listening, after all, is a skill we all require, and my listening may be the greatest you have ever encountered.”

Laughing just softly enough so he wouldn’t cough again, Pluto shook his head. “Doubtful.”

“Doubtful?” Clenching his jaw, Dante stared into the sad eyes of his subject. “Who would be better than me?”

Shrugging, Pluto said, “Poe. Questionable whether or not you’d… consider him human… so maybe he doesn’t count.”

It was obvious that Pluto was getting even worse, that Dante should call someone right away so that he would be healthy for the following day. But, Dante thought, this subject is aggravating in the most peculiar ways. Curiosity stayed his hand.

“Mr. Pluto, before I leave, may I ask a question of you?”

For once remaining serious, Pluto nodded. “Shoot.”

“As I said before, I’m well aware of your crimes. I know that Nanos are not the only thing you destroy. I know that you’ve dismantled, removed, and absolutely decimated many strata—that is, if the myths said of you are to be believed. What I’m getting at is, why do all of this? I know more or less you’ve explained in todays session that if you were to halt your progress the Nanos would find you and kill you. And although that’s difficult to believe, were that to be the case then why cause so much trouble for others?”

Frowning, he stifled a cough and asked, “What do you mean?”

Blinking as though the clarification wasn’t warranted, Dante said, “What I mean is, what is the purpose of your constant destruction? Why destroy what you leave behind? Why not just try to halt the progress of Mobius and be done with it?”

Pluto swallowed hard as though preparing to speak for long. “What do you think of Mobius, Dante?”

“What do I think?” It was as if Dante had never thought of the question before. What did he think? What would anyone think? “Mobius isn’t perfect, but my life has been as pleasant as one could expect. We of course have our own personal issues, and I would maybe prefer if it were a more manageable existence, but nothing about Mobius has ever appeared abhorrent to me.”

Grinning with his lupine visage, Pluto declared, “And I think what you just said is bullshit. My life before I found the Hellwhip was bullshit, my life after was bullshit too. This place is a mistake, and most of you don’t even realize how big a mistake it is.”

“Mistake?” Dante whispered, baffled. “Mobius was created for one purpose, to—”

“Yes, we all know. It was meant to house us before Earth’s uninhabitability put the human race to extinction. Sure. But Mobius was meant to end. It was never meant to be a parasite, eating up space and stealing the natural order. Were it left unchecked, Mobius wouldn’t merely eat the universe, it would be the universe. The Nanos haven’t ceased production since operation Mobius began. How many Nanos do you think—”

Pluto began coughing uncontrollably. At first Dante waited to see if perhaps he would stop, but when it became obvious he needed assistance he called for the nursing unit and brought them over. While they helped Pluto regain control, Dante informed the nurses of his issues and asked them to watch over him for the next eight hours so that he might get some rest.

Before he left he answered Pluto’s question. “To answer you, Mr. Pluto, I haven’t any idea how many Nanos have been created since the inception of Mobius. However that’s neither here nor there. You may have a point that we should cease the production of this station, however you have no legs to stand on when it comes to the morals of murder. I will return tomorrow. Prepare yourself for another tale of your life, and be sure to tell me the truth. I grow tired of your lies.”

And though he was obviously in pain, Pluto waved him off with a big smile on his face, as if he were laughing at a joke.