Chapter 19 Dripping Gold

I can't recall the last time I felt the stare of accusation, where the unspoken was left hanging in the air as the evidence dripped from the hands.

In Reader's hand was a bright gold ticket.  Its light cut the shadows like a knife, interrupted only by the ink dripping like blood from Reader's body.  It shone with the luster of a proud achievement, yet its entire audience was dower.  There was no applause to this revelation. This was more like a murder investigation.

Must Ernest look at me so?  I mean, I don't even know what this ticket is for.  I just got it when-when I took the coin from his hand-

"Reader.  Where did you get that?" 

"Ernest you mustn't speak, you need to rest."

"Where?"

"Ernest, please, your breathing is getting erratic, tell him Ioan."

"Where -"

Ernest collapsed in a fit of coughing. 

Reader rushed forward to try and prop Ernest back up, but was held back by Ioan.

Oh yeah, if I touch him he might die at this rate...

"All that's Gold...  is theirs alone..."

Ioan murmured for Ernest to settle down.  Reader went stiff as an animal spotted.

He must mean the Twins.  All that's Gold...

Ernest patted his body down, and when he couldn't find what he sought, his face went quite dark. 

"I thought I lost that coin between trips.  I thought I got rid of it.  But now I figure, you had something to do with it."

Reader didn't move.

"Tell me Reader.  Was I just dreaming when you came, and took the coin from my hand?  Was it just a dream where I was caught in an endless web?"

"No, it wasn't a dream.  At least... I don't think so."

"Then why?"

"I-I just-"
"And where?  How?  Did you get that thing from the Twins?  Did they give it to you?"

"I-"

"Did you pay them for something?  What is it for?  How do you have it when we're out of the Locker?  Tell me!"

"I don't know!"

It was a long while before Ernest finally settled down.  He went from confused moments of lucidity to long periods of restless sleeping. 

Reader paced the room.  Though the shredded place seemed small, the distance between Reader and the other two seemed far too vast.  Ioan had gotten bored of the place.  After muttering about his lack of music, he pulled up a pile of junk to sit on and stand vigil over Ernest. 

He looks like a grim reaper, waiting for the time to be over so that he can go off somewhere else.

"I had been so caught up you know.  In the adventuring... the assignments."

Ioan didn't respond to Reader's attempt to break the silence.  Not even a flinch.

"It hadn't occurred to me to think about that day.  We had just come back from some journey in the sea and I had found the thing that would let us leave.  A gold coin.  Ernest was rather upset about it.  He didn't want me to touch anything related to the Twins.  Said it would be best for me.  To just ignore them.  I...  I didn't tell him about the meetings.  I met them a few times.  They were strange, beautiful, but scary.  They came alive when you looked at them, but they seemed to blur if you just took a glance."

Images, Reader's memories of the adventures came to the surface.  They floated gently on that ink coated body.  While reminiscing, Reader's hands wandered over the piles of loot, treasure and odd souvenirs that filled their hallway prison.

A weathered book.  A tortoise shell music box?  Was this what Ioan referred to?  Closed shut. 

"When Ernest took the coin, I was a little upset.  I mean, I was the one that found it.  When I entered the Locker the second time through, there he was just... hanging there.  Unresponsive.  And the coin was in his hand.  I had a little bit of the ink on me at the time and after I rubbed it in -pop- the coin came out."

This really is shut tightly.  It's almost like it's fighting me from opening it?

The box slipped out of Reader's hands and clattered on a pile of memories only to get swallowed up by the other forgotten treasures. 

"The coin vanished and in my hand came the Ticket.  I've had it this entire time, I just... I never thought about it.  I didn't have time to.  We were caught up in the sands... the heat and wind just left me numb.  I couldn't think of anything.  And now that I can, I realize that I know nothing of this Ticket; or why I still have it outside of the Locker.  Whatever that means."

Ernest's eyes slowly opened, but he didn't move.  Ioan finally shifted from his perch.

"I'm no expert at this, but I'd say that this Locker and its assignments are related to magic."

Magic?

"What are you talking about Ioan?  Magic?  I mean really."

"Is it so hard to believe?  I didn't walk here Reader.  A music box ate me and left me here."

What? That's just crazy.

"That's not how I got here Ioan."

"Then how did you get here Reader?"

Ernest's cracked voice interrupted, "It can't be magic.  It's just a simulator.  The assignments are an education program.  It's just data." 

"Then it's definitely science." Reader chimed in.  "After all, I got here by...  by... uh...  the same way everyone else should have?  The other's came here via data networking.  I think.  I mean there's the whole heads-up-display and the archives of classes?  Right?"

Actually I can't remember.

Ioan seemed unconvinced.

"You say science, but the science I know is steel, fire and armor.  This isn't science, it's magic.  How else can a little box trap us here?"

Ioan's voice echoed down the halls, empty of life, but full of inanimate objects that seemed to be listening intently. 

One says magic, the other says science and I ... can't clearly remember anything.  So which is it?  Magic?  Science?

"Why are they called assignments?"

Reader's question was met with dubious expressions.  Ioan replied first.

"Isn't it because they are tests of the soul?  The Locker gives them, and if you are found wanting you die."

"They are called assignments, because they are lessons."  Ernest said matter-of-factly.  "My siblings have done thousands of them before I met either of you.  To be honest, I thought both of you might be part of a program... but I couldn't be sure.  Things in digital worlds can change."

After a moment Reader than asked, "Then where we met before, you said it was a School right?"

Ernest seemed tired of this train of thought.  Or just tired over all.

"Yes.  You do all the assignments you complete School.  It means you get to go beyond the rooms with the simulators.  You get to go out into the world." 

Ioan just shrugged and said, "I know of no school like this."

Something isn't right.

"Ernest, Ioan, I called this place a School, because of what the area looked like.  Halls with classrooms.  Lockers and stuff would appear on the walls and well, there was this Locker.  The one we would go into."

Just like this one right in front of me.  All beat up as if a car crashed into its side.  Drooling ink stains... everything except the lock which is on my hand.

"That is impossible Reader.  That Locker you're standing in front of was in the Doctor's office.  I broke that thing open when..."

Why did he stop? Now that I think about it...

"Ernest... Where are your siblings?"

He didn't respond.

"Ernest, you said you had like 30 of them or something?"

Ioan gave a low whistle.

Ernest still didn't respond.  He was looking hard at the Locker Reader was standing next to.

"I opened that Locker, hoping to find a cure.  My siblings were sick.  They were dying from something that resembled cancer.  Do you know what that is?"

Ernest explained the symptoms to Ioan who whispered, "Consumption?"

"That's an old name for it." Ernest replied and went on, "The Doctor wasn't there.  His office was always locked.  Mother and Father said to not go, but I went anyways.  There was nothing in that office that made sense.  Nothing that could stop their pain.  Just lots of data and stuff from the assignments.  I did what I could, but I couldn't save them."

"Did they all die?"

"I don't know Reader.  Some of the older ones went ahead... I don't know if they got sick or not.  But all the ones my age and younger died.  All except one.  It was terrible.  That's when I met them...  The Twins."

What!?

"I entered the simulator in the Doctor's office and loaded up a personal world.  And yet there they were...  They... they-"

He stared at this hands.  A concerned look went on his face.

"This is supposed to be my room.  Yet you are both here... I thought both of you were just simulations.  Digital things from the assignments.  If you are here... how?  Does that mean...  Does that mean I'm not in that physical room?  Where am I?  Where are we?"

Reader didn't like the look on Ernest's face.

"Ernest," Ioan whispered as he glanced at the walls that seemed to get closer, "What do you remember of this Doctor?"

"What does it matter?  He wasn't around when we needed him."

"It matters.  I know of a Doctor as well, though only in stories told to me by my people.  A Doctor was responsible for saving us from plague."

"Lucky you."
"Is it so envious," Ioan asked as his tongue slithered out to push a stray lock of hair from his face, "to be like this?  That was the price to be paid."

Ernest closed his eyes.  For a long time he didn't speak. 

Did he go to sleep?

"He was tall.  But I was also very short then.  He had thick black hair.  Cold eyes.  Smelled old, yet he looked so young.  He coughed now and then.  Would hold his head or his side in pain.  Just like my siblings.  Mother and Father said I looked so much like him, but I don't remember the face.  He wore two metal gloves each time I saw him except on the last two times.  One glove silver... one glove black.  One silver and white, one black and gold..."

Why is he looking at me?  Why is he getting up?

"Reader, I need you to do something."
"Ernest, please sit back down you need your rest."

For a dying man you sure have a painful grip.

"Reader, I need to know if my body is where it's supposed to be.  If any of this is real.  I need to know how much time has passed-I need to know if she is safe!"
"Ernest, please-"
"How did you get here Reader?  Can you get to where my body is?"
"I don't know-"
"Please, Reader.  You looked just like him.  Just like the Doctor."

My face did?

Ernest grip on Reader failed.  He fell into Ioan's arms, as his muscles quivered from the strain. 

How did I get here?  How would I find Ernest's body?  The only other time I've seen him was ... was in...

Reader turned around and looked at the dilapidated metal box.

"The Locker - I saw Ernest's body in the Locker."

Reader tried opening the bloody thing, but it refused to budge. 

"It's strange, I never really felt rested when I finished an assignment.  I felt restless."

The metal squirmed to the touch, shifting and contorting, refusing to stay in place.

"I can't ever remember leaving - of anything beyond this place.  It's like, It's like-"

The metal was sweating now, making the surface slick to the touch.  It groaned and complained as Reader pulled hard at its metal body. 

"-It's like I never left!"

Grah! Yield already!

Reader's grip slipped and the two tumbled into a heap. 

Exasperated, Reader looked at the gauntlet Lock, and the Locker.

"Why won't you open?!"

Is it just me, or is it trying to back up?  What would make this thing so afraid? And what is that poking me so hard in my side?

The Golden Ticket found its way back into Reader's hand.  This time the Locker really did back up, but there was a wall and nowhere for it to go.  Violently it thrashed at the junk around it, desperate to flee.

"This?  You're afraid of this Ticket?  Why?  Come here!"

Reader tackled the nimble box, and got a face full of metal foot in response. 

Ouch!

The two wrestled from one pile of the memory hoard to the next, junk scattered everywhere.

"Reader be careful! The whole hallway is ripping apart!"  Ioan shouted as he tried to protect Ernest from an increasing hail of junk.  The hall was coming to a semblance of life.  Piles moved as an ocean of debris, waves of lost treasures crashed all around them. 

Ioan cried in anguish as the last of his record player was destroyed in the struggle. 

There on top of a mountain of antiques Reader gained the upper hand and punched the Locker hard with that glove covered fist.  The hall shook with each blow to follow until the waves finally stopped, the shadows receded, and the Locker ceased to resist. 

Reader was straddled uncomfortably on top of the metal beast while Ernest looked on, Ioan still sobbing into Ernest's shoulder.

"Now, take this ticket!"

Reader shoved the thing into what looked like a mouth, meaning the upper vents covered in drool stains, but the vents were shut tight. 

"Take it!"

Reader patted down the sides, looking for a slot of some kind.  Nothing. 

"Come on, I know you were running from this!"

Smacking it did nothing.  Kicking it did nothing. 

"Are you supposed to eat this thing?  Eat it?  Please?"

Reader tried feeding the ticket through the vent holes, but this time they kept moving.  It was like trying to get a dog's mouth to open. 

"Come on, eat it already! Yes! It's in!"

It spat it back out like rejected money at a vending machine. 

"Aarrgh! I don't get it!  What am I supposed to do?" 

Reader tossed the ticket onto the Locker's face in disgust.  There it stuck like a sticker.  Reader did what must be the equivalent of eye-rolling and looked to Ernest and Ioan for support.  Ernest wasn't looking at Reader, only the Locker.  Ioan took his frustration out on the Locker. 

"I already tried kicking it Ioan."

Ioan didn't respond to Reader, instead he propped the Locker up for a proper beating. 

Or at least he would have, but it wouldn't budge. 

After several moments he asked Reader for help.  Together they lifted the pitiful box up, where it sagged visibly. 

I'm going to ignore those ink trails.  I'm going to not accept that this thing might be crying.

After all the effort of lifting the Locker, Ioan had a rare moment of being winded.  The recent events left him disgusted at the waste of it all and he moved to walk off.  Reader stood by the Locker, watching the tired and wounded pair.  Ernest, continued to stare at the Locker. 

Is he okay?  Should I say something?  I really thought that the Ticket and the Locker...  But for some reason it just won't open for me.  Even though I have this stupid thing on my hand.

"I'm sorry guys, I don't know why -click- ?"

The hallway filled with bright multi-colored light.  The top of the Locker grew a crown of bulbs and a glowing sign.  It seemed this transformation made the box uncomfortable.  The Locker shook itself as music blared from its gaudy crown. 

It looks so confused. 

The crown frames a sign? What does it say?

Reader walked around to the front to read it.  The Locker looked on expectantly like someone asking, "What is on my face?"

"Bonus... Round? Wha-"

The Locker expanded ten-fold like a balloon.  It's door ripped open.  With the lights and sounds one might think that beyond the darkness was a carnival ride.  A sick, hungry, joy ride.

From the depths of the Locker's mouth came a flood of familiar ink. 

But this time it wasn't just black.

It was black and gold.

They were swallowed up by the living flood.

Where did they go?

As soon as they were gone the crown of lights wilted and died.  It fell off like a limp carcass leaving a weeping Locker in a hallway full of boxes.