The Destination
The Destination
July 12, 2003
"And I realize, now, that while he is the prisoner of my thoughts and words, I, to a degree, am the prisoner of the words I've already written."
- Nick del Pozo
"The importance of stories is that they can help us understand who we really are."
- Jonathan Illingworth
-¦-¦-¦-
Rudolf woke with a start and felt like he was still dreaming. He was falling into a bottomless pit. But as he opened his eyes and turned around, he knew--
--that he really was falling into a bottomless pit. Gone was the mossy patch of ground that had been his bed for the night. Gone was the old, large tree with its crooked branches, its contours black against the purple sky. Gone was everything solid, replaced by an absolute black nothingness. He brought his hand in front of his eyes and waved at himself but the void was so very dark that he could not even see it.
*Where am I?* he asked himself. Not that he expected an answer, but he had to ask the question anyway. *And what has happened?* Another question he had to ask.
The last thing he remembered was falling asleep on the planet they were trapped on. It had been a tiring day, with the rescue of Lt. Green from the river and the persistent lack of progress in finding a way off the planet.
"Where am I?" he asked again, this time aloud. His voice sounded muffled, like his ears were covered. He rubbed his ears and tried again. "What has happened?" The sound was still muffled.
He considered the possibility that he was dreaming, but he did not really believe it. He was too aware of himself and his situation. Then he remembered how he had arrived on the planet. By transporter. He had felt disoriented and queasy upon his arrival, as had the others who were with him. He felt disoriented now as well, though in a different manner, and the queasiness was definitely present, too. In fact, now that he thought about it, he had to fight the urge to throw up.
He closed his eyes, which helped him somewhat to straighten his thoughts and forget about his stomach. He was still aware of the blackness outside, but it didn't feel nearly as unpleasant anymore. It gave him a chance to examine himself. Starting at his feet, he worked his way up to his head looking for anything that might help explain what had happened. But as he touched his feet, he somehow knew his body would yield only more questions. His feet were bare, although he couldn't remember taking off his boots last night. He touched his legs. They were bare, too. Moving further up, it was soon clear that he was totally naked. The discovery only added to the mystery.
Before he could examine his body for any injuries, something hit him from behind. He grunted in pain and opened his eyes to see what it was. The new view struck him like a blow to the head. He was looking at the classic interior of what appeared to be a train cabin. He was seated in a comfortable chair, dark green plush set with silvery embroidery. For some reason he was back in his uniform and he was grateful even though he didn't understand it. There was room for three more in the cabin, but he was alone. The brown luggage grids were empty. A small chandelier hung down from the ceiling, giving off just the right level of illumination. The table was empty except for his arms resting on it. A newspaper and a magazine lay on the chair next to him.
"JUDGEMENT DAY," he read on the cover of the magazine. Below the large capitals was a photo of a young man with short, blond hair. He was wearing spectacles and the collar of his olive green T-shirt was just visible above a second line of text, "The Lord Summons His Followers."
Rudolf was not sure what to make of it. What did this guy have to do with the lord summoning his followers? Was he perhaps the leader of a religious sect proclaiming the end of the world? Rudolf put the magazine aside, knowing there were more important questions to be answered first. He picked up the newspaper next and wasn't quite sure what to make of the name, "The End of Times." The front page was dominated by a photo of the guy from the magazine. Rudolf read the caption.
"Yesterday at three o'clock local time, the train departed from Cocoon Station. As it journeys to its Destination, the Followers will board it to answer to the Lord's summon. The train is scheduled to arrive tonight at half past nine."
His curiosity piqued by the name of the railway station, Rudolf looked through the newspaper for more information. Unfortunately, and strangely enough, he couldn't find any. He tried the magazine, but that wasn't any help, either. It had a photo shoot of the guy from the cover, but that was all.
He sank back in his chair and suddenly realized how quiet it was. Although he had never travelled by railway, he knew it was a rather noisy business. He turned to the window and opened the blinds covering it. It was pitch black outside. He opened the window but it remained perfectly quiet. It made no sense. Even if this was a magnet train, there would be the rushing of the wind. He stuck his hand out the window and gasped. There was no wind. Like they were travelling through a vacuum, but that was impossible. The air inside the cabin would be sucked right out, and clearly that was not the case.
Finally, he heard something. Footsteps. They were approaching the window. Rudolf backed away just in time as the entire wall came forward. He closed his eyes and wondered if he was going mad. When he looked again, a man in tuxedo was closing the door behind him. Now Rudolf was sure he was going mad. A quick glance around the room confirmed that he was still in the cabin, but the door and the window had switched sides.
"You called, sir?"
Rudolf's eyebrows arched. "I did?"
"You were waving, sir," the man replied stoically. He looked vaguely familiar, but Rudolf couldn't put a name to his face.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Rudolf stammered. "I was... waving at someone else." Was this man a servant aboard this train?
"In that case, I apologize for the intrusion, sir." The man remained stoic, but Rudolf had the idea he was mocking him. "However, now that I am here, may I remind you that dinner is served in fifteen minutes?"
"You may."
"Dinner is served in fifteen minutes, sir."
"What?" Now Rudolf knew for certain the man was mocking him and he was not in the mood to be made fun of. "Thank you, but I am not hungry. Now if you would be so kind to leave, I have business to attend to."
"Pardon me, but I do think you should attend, sir." He lowered his voice to emphasize what he had to say. "The Lord wishes so."
"I'll think about it, okay?"
Before the man could speak again, Rudolf reached past him to open the door and push him out. He locked the door and leaned against it, rubbing his face with both hands. What did this lord want to do with him? He reached for the magazine and watched the cover picture again. The guy could have been him ten years ago, if Rudolf had had another haircut and had worn spectacles. But other than showing a distant resemblance to himself, the guy didn't look like anyone Rudolf knew.
His gaze turned to the clock hanging on the wall and all of a sudden, he was sitting at a very richly set dinner table. The clock hanging across the room showed it was seven o'clock, fifteen minutes later than it was a second ago. His uniform had made place for deep blue trousers and a light green shirt.
"The Lord will be pleased you decided to attend, sir."
Behind him, Rudolf saw the same man who had visited him in his cabin just yet. He had an irreproachably white napkin hanging over his left arm. In his right, he held a bottle of red wine. Chateau du Pêcheur MMIII, the label read.
"Would you care for a glass of wine, sir?"
*Why not,* Rudolf thought. A glass of wine would not kill him in this surreal world, even if it was wine over four centuries old. "Please," he said and the servant filled a golden-rimmed crystal glass. Rudolf carefully tasted the wine and found his doubts ungrounded. It tasted very fine.
All around the circular table, servants were filling glasses with wine or other liquor. He counted ten guests beside himself, three of which he actually recognized. One was the Cardassian consultant from the USS Nightingale, Mr. Mrell. The second was Rudolf's successor on DS101, the Trill Cmdr. Thar Emond. The third was the Cocoon Fleet's personnel officer, the Bajoran BrAdm. Tandro Landi. He nodded at each of them and all three nodded back, even the Admiral. The recognition was not just one-sided.
He let his gaze travel around the table. The seat on his left was empty. The next chair was occupied by a young man with short black hair, pointed ears and a ridged forehead. Perhaps a Vulcan-Klingon hybrid? Suddenly Rudolf remembered him. Lieutenant JG Aniketos was his predecessor as first officer of DS101.
To Aniketos's left were two Human guys looking so much alike that they had to be twins. They seemed to be enjoying themselves thoroughly, pointing at the other guests and laughing at each other's remarks. Rudolf regretted not being able to hear what they were saying as he would have liked to join the fun.
Moving on, he came to the only woman at the table. She was Human and had an eastern tinge to her looks, but her most remarkable feature was the absence of her right arm. He noticed that all her utensils had been placed on the left side of her plate to accommodate her. She looked very pale, but that could very well be normal for her.
Mr. Mrell was next in line, his expression as bland as Rudolf was used to. He was silently sipping from a glass of kanar, observing the party much like Rudolf was. Their eyes met and Mrell said something. "Enjoying the mystery, Commander?" Rudolf heard, but he wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. He gave no response other than moving on one position. The man there was looking particularly sad, like this dinner was the very last place he would have liked to be. He was a Human of African descent, with a very dark skin, black hair and a thick, black beard. Oddly enough, he was looking pale despite his dark complexion.
BrAdm. Tandro was the seventh guest, with his snow-white beard a stark contrast to the African. Tandro was smiling his trademark grandfather smile and he was clearly enjoying himself, in particular, it seemed, with jokes traded across the table with the twins. His wine glass was already nearly empty.
There was a tree standing to Tandro's left, but it was clear soon enough that it was no normal tree. Its low, rumbling voice was audible across the table, but Rudolf could not make out any words. Interestingly, the table in front of the tree person was empty and Rudolf wondered if he would perhaps be eating with his roots.
Next was Cmdr. Emond, with broad shoulders and all. He was sitting with his arms crossed, clearly agitated and making an obvious effort not to enjoy himself. His glass was filled with wine, but he had yet to touch it.
Coming back to Rudolf's right, the last guest was only about half a metre tall. He was sitting on a raised chair so he could use the same table as the others, but his plate and utensils were scaled to his size. His face looked Human, but Rudolf didn't think he really was one. Growth problems this severe had been eradicated long ago.
And then there was the empty chair again on Rudolf's left. The chair itself looked just like the other chairs around the table, but the pillow lying on the seat was just a bit thicker than the rest, and set with golden embroidery that he saw nowhere else. The plate, glass and utensils, too, were just a bit more richly decorated than everyone else's. Just as Rudolf came to the conclusion that this place must be for the lord from the magazine and the newspaper, a pair of large double doors swung open. Flanked by two servants in tuxedo, the lord entered. He was wearing a chequered blue shirt over a pair of silver jeans and dark blue sneakers. As the servants exited again through a smaller door, the lord walked to the empty seat next to Rudolf. Rudolf wondered if he should stand, but seeing that no one else did, he stayed as he was.
"Good evening, everyone," the lord greeted before sitting down. "I see the party has started without me."
Some polite laughter sounded and everyone looked happy, except for the African, Mr. Mrell and Cmdr. Emond. A servant turned up to fill the lord's glass with wine and the lord lifted his glass for a toast.
"To my Followers, without whom I would not be myself."
"My Lord," everyone responded as one and Rudolf was surprised to realize he had spoken as well.
The Lord turned to address Rudolf alone. "I'm glad to see you especially. You are my favourite Follower."
"I know," Rudolf heard himself say and he felt confused. He had never met this guy, this Lord, before, so how could he be his favourite Follower? And why had he said something else than he wanted to say?
"All your questions will be answered once we reach the Destination. But first, let's enjoy this dinner." The Lord smiled like he knew something Rudolf didn't - which indeed seemed to be the case. "Trust me when I say you will like all dishes served. Excuse me."
Rudolf nodded and watched the Lord turn to talk to Aniketos. The first dish was brought in, pieces of fried chicken and slices of mandarin on a bed of green salad, topped with a mayonnaise sauce. Having given up on finding an answer anytime soon, Rudolf decided he might as well enjoy himself for the moment. He finished the very tasty chicken salad and as they waited for the next course, had a talk with some of the other guests. They, too, had no idea why they were here, and except for the four familiar people, they seemed to have no connection whatsoever with Rudolf.
The second course was served, a fine French onion soup with white toast and butter. It was followed by the main course, consisting of a number of cold salads and warm vegetable dishes, fried potatoes and a juicy steak. As he enjoyed himself with the good food, he continued to talk with the Lord and the other guests, but as pleasant as the conversations were, they taught him nothing new. The Lord politely but firmly warded off all questions about where they were and what was going to happen. The servants told him nothing, either. By the time the desert was served, deep-fried melon ice with fresh strawberries and chocolate sauce, he was getting impatient. The clock on the opposite wall was closing on nine o'clock. A servant approached the Lord and said they were nicely on schedule. *But for what?* Rudolf wondered again. He remembered from the newspaper that they should be arriving at half past nine. With a newfound patience, he decided to give the Lord until then to explain what was going on. It calmed him enough to enjoy the last course, a cup of coffee or tea with a slice of warm apple pie with whipped cream.
And finally it was half past nine. A dozen servants entered the room and all guests stood.
"We have arrived at the Destination," the Lord announced. "You will be shown to your rooms now and I will be seeing each of you shortly." He placed a hand on Rudolf's arm. "You can come with me, Rudolf. This way."
A servant held a door open for the two of them and they stepped through, into a hallway. Rudolf turned around and was looking out onto a street lined on either side by brick houses. The dining room had disappeared and the servant with it.
"This is making less and less sense," Rudolf muttered.
"On the contrary," the Lord replied cheerfully. "Come."
He walked up the staircase in front of them and Rudolf had no choice but to follow him. They turned left at the top and entered through a grey door into a bedroom. The door was green on the inside and the walls were a light shade of blue. Dark brown wooden cupboards lined the left wall and they had to round a pale wooden book-case to get to the centre of the room. There was a black bed with blue sheets, and a white desk with an ancient 21st-century personal computer. Three posters lined one wall, the words "Star Trek" displayed prominently on each of them. The Lord gestured at a black fauteuil and Rudolf took it, while the Lord himself took the black chair behind the desk.
-¦-¦-¦-
This is really very strange. Here I am, sitting in my room, face to face with what is in essence only a figment of my imagination. But of course this man, this Commander Rudolf Fischer of the USS Yeager, is much more than that. He is an extension of me, representing many aspects of my own personality, but also displaying characteristics that I do not have myself. He is me, and he is not me, and he is more than me.
"Who are you really?" he asks, truly curious. His gaze shifts restlessly about the room, seeing so many ancient equipment that he must think himself in a museum.
"Your Lord," I answer enigmatically and I enjoy the look of confusion on his face. Yet at the same time I feel a sense of guilt over toying with this man. It's like making bad fun of yourself. I reach behind me to turn on my computer. It comes to life with the whining noise that 25th century computers no longer have.
Rudolf watches the computer with a mix of wonder and apprehension and again I cannot help but enjoy seeing his reaction. He starts to speak, but I silence him with a wave of my hand. I tell him that everything will become clear momentarily. He nods hesitantly.
I turn on the monitor and bring up the screen I want Rudolf to see, then make room behind the desk and invite him to have a look.
'Rudolf stands in front of the desk, the expression on his face showing how puzzled he is by all that is happening,' Rudolf reads on the screen. 'He looks at me and I smile, gesturing back at the screen. The words written there tell so precisely what he is doing and what he is thinking, that in his heart he knows there is only one answer. This guy, his younger self wearing glasses and a different haircut, is indeed his Lord, his creator. And he his Follower.'
I know what Rudolf is thinking. "Believe me, this is as strange for you as it is for me." I want to explain his situation, the essence of his life, but I cannot find the words.
And as I stand silently, he places a hand on my arm. "I understand," he says, and of course he does. I need only write that he understands, and he understands. But it should not really be that easy. I don't want him to be a super being knowing everything and capable of doing anything. His expression changes. "I don't understand."
"No, I can imagine you don't." I smile to put him at ease. I gesture at the fauteuil and he sits down, as do I. "Let's see where to start... First of all, let me correct something I just said. I am not your Lord, nor any other kind of deity. I am just a man of flesh and blood... like yourself." I hope he hasn't noticed my hesitation. "You could call me a creator, though. Your creator, even." He looks even more puzzled now than before my attempted explanation. I try again. "Okay, I guess the best way to teach you about yourself, is to teach you first about your universe." He nods, happy to understand something I say. Puzzlement slowly makes place for anticipation. "Back in the 1960s, a man called Gene Roddenberry created a television science fiction series."
He interrupts me. "Star Trek." He points at the three posters hanging above my bed and I grin.
"Yes, that was the name of the series. It took place aboard a starship called the USS Enterprise, commanded by the famous captain James T. Kirk." Rudolf nods. This is where the terrain becomes more familiar to him. I continue. "For three years, Gene Roddenberry and his team put Kirk and his crew through dozens of adventures. Some twenty years later, Gene created a sequel series, The Next Generation, featuring the Enterprise-D and captain Jean-Luc Picard. By the end of that series, Star Trek had become so successful that the fans were doing any number of things to enjoy the show even more. One such thing was role-playing games, where a group of people would play their own adventures with their own invented characters."
"And you are one of those people and I am such an invented character."
I realize I have just told him he isn't real and suddenly I feel sorry for him. "Yes," is all I manage to say.
For someone whose view of the universe has been so drastically altered in just a few minutes, Rudolf is managing himself very well. I know I would have much more difficulty. Then again, I am the one to decide how he takes this news, and I do not want it to be too hard for him. And so it isn't.
He has many questions and asks one. "The other guests at the dinner, they are also characters in this game?"
I nod. "They are, and more precisely, they are all characters created by me."
"Then Hunter isn't yours," he concludes and now I know he really understands his life and his universe.
"No, she belongs to a player called EJ. She is one of the reasons why this game is so much fun. I mean, I enjoy writing your adventures, but the interaction with other players and their characters adds so much to the enjoyment. And it gives you the opportunity to develop into a completer person, a person more real."
"Thank you," he says, and I believe he means it. "And please thank EJ for me."
I smile at him, saying nothing. I wonder what EJ would think if I thanked her on Rudolf's behalf.
"Why are you telling me all this?" he suddenly asks.
That is a question I knew would come, and I have my answer ready. "For a number of reasons. First of all, you are so important to me that I wanted to meet you in person. Second, it felt like a good idea to write a kind of tribute post to you, to all my other characters and to my fellow players and their characters. All of you have been an important part of my life for the past three years and two months and I needed to say thanks." I smile nervously. "So, thanks, everyone." I pause for a second, wondering what my fellow players are thinking now. I guess they understand. I turn back to Rudolf to give him my last and most important reason. "And third, this is my 500th post for the Holoworld Fleet and I wanted it to be something special."
Rudolf is eyeing me sceptically. "Aren't you taking all this a bit too seriously? Keeping track of how many posts you write, saying thanks to fictitious people, let alone talking to me."
I shrug. "Perhaps, at times, I am. But every man's got to have a hobby, and this is mine. Besides, it's all just harmless fun." He coughs sharply and I know what he means. I realize I should have chosen my words more carefully. "I'm sorry I hurt you from time to time, but you must realize that pain and misfortune are part of any life. There would be no drama, no adventure, no fun if only nice things happen to you."
"True," he says quietly after a while. "Just not overdo it, okay? I may not be real, but I do feel like I am. Imaginative wounds still hurt."
We grin at each other and our eyes meet. We have reached a level of understanding I probably never have with any real person. It is a fascinating experience and I am very glad to have brought Rudolf here with me.
He asks me another question. "What was the deal with the dinner? And with the entire train, for that matter? And the black void?" I stay silent, trying to formulate an answer and meanwhile hoping he will give one of himself. He does after a while. "It was for the others, wasn't it? For the other players. To add an aspect of mystery, to make it a more exciting story."
"Yes," I answer, repeating his answer in my mind and comparing it to my own. "Yes, that's the reason. Because no matter how much I enjoy writing these stories, I do write them to be read."
"And to invite response," he adds, though it isn't clear if he means a continuation of or a comment on a story. I simply nod, content with either option.
We fall silent again and his gaze travels to my monitor, as if he can see there what we're supposed to do next.
"You are another Jonathan Illingworth, aren't you?" he suddenly asks. "Another Nick del Pozo."
For the first time, I am truly surprised. Of course he's right, but I never meant him to say those words. I turn around to look at my monitor and I feel my hear missing a beat. The screen is empty. I scroll up and down. Nothing.
He pushes further. "This encounter, it's not really your own idea, is it?"
This is getting scary. Rudolf is saying things he should not say, things I didn't intend for him to say.
"Well?"
"No, I guess it isn't," I respond, giving in for the moment. "Both Nick and Jonathan had similar encounters with their main character. Obviously, this encounter, this story, is inspired by those two stories. And the same goes for every story I have written and have yet to write. I combine elements from other stories and from my own real-life experiences and turn them into a story for you, or for Mrell, or for Thar." I pause, recalling something. "As a fellow player once said, no event you write has not been written before, but that is not important. What matters is how you have your characters respond to the events. That is what makes a story unique, and that is what makes this story unique from Jonathan's and Nick's."
"Okay, you have a point." I sigh in relief as he once again says something I expected him to say. He breaks into a grin and I realize how tense I must have looked. "I got you there, didn't I?"
I grin sheepishly, making a futile attempt to understand what just happened. "You sure did. And I hope you never do that again."
"Just trying to make a good story," he says as if it's the most natural thing to say. And perhaps it is. "I had better go," he adds quietly. "The others must be wondering where I am." I shake my head, start to say that he will return to the moment he left, but he speaks first. "Just tell me one thing before I go, okay?"
"Sure, anything."
It's two things, actually, but they come down to the same point. "What will happen to me now? Will I remember our encounter?"
I turn away, afraid to look at him as I give my answer. "Not particularly. Like a dream, if you want. Perhaps in the future, I will let you remember more. Until then..." I trail off, doubting my decision again. It seems wrong somehow to take this night away from him. Then again, I cannot have him remember, either. I want him to be as real a person as possible, and a real person doesn't know he isn't real.
"So I will wake up in the morning as if nothing has happened?" he asks when I stay silent.
I make up my mind. "No, not as if nothing happened. I will give you two things. The first is the power to do something that no other man I know can do. Use it wisely and it will help you. But know this: abuse will lead to suffer and not even I can prevent that." I see the obvious question in his eyes, but I deflect it before he can pose it. "And no, I will not tell you what it is. You will have to discover for yourself." I pause for a second, than name my other gift. "Second, I promise you that I will never kill you. As long as you are mine to write, you will live a happy and healthy life."
He breaks into a grin. "I suppose that's the most valuable gift anyone has ever given me."
"A valuable gift for a valuable person," I respond. "Enjoy it."
He smiles, happy and grateful for the experience of tonight. We shake hands, then I lead him out of my room and down the stairs. I open the door for him.
We shake hands again, and hug, then he steps out onto the pavement, back into his life.
"Farewell," he says, I say, we say.
He steps through.
-¦-¦-¦-
Rudolf woke with a start and felt like he was still dreaming. He turned around to wave a final goodbye to... To whom? He opened his eyes and saw the camp fire. He sat up and, alerted by his movements, Naalauilos walked over.
"Are you alright, sir?"
"Yeah," he said. "Just a little disoriented, that's all. I'll be fine."
July 12, 2003
"And I realize, now, that while he is the prisoner of my thoughts and words, I, to a degree, am the prisoner of the words I've already written."
- Nick del Pozo
"The importance of stories is that they can help us understand who we really are."
- Jonathan Illingworth
-¦-¦-¦-
Rudolf woke with a start and felt like he was still dreaming. He was falling into a bottomless pit. But as he opened his eyes and turned around, he knew--
--that he really was falling into a bottomless pit. Gone was the mossy patch of ground that had been his bed for the night. Gone was the old, large tree with its crooked branches, its contours black against the purple sky. Gone was everything solid, replaced by an absolute black nothingness. He brought his hand in front of his eyes and waved at himself but the void was so very dark that he could not even see it.
*Where am I?* he asked himself. Not that he expected an answer, but he had to ask the question anyway. *And what has happened?* Another question he had to ask.
The last thing he remembered was falling asleep on the planet they were trapped on. It had been a tiring day, with the rescue of Lt. Green from the river and the persistent lack of progress in finding a way off the planet.
"Where am I?" he asked again, this time aloud. His voice sounded muffled, like his ears were covered. He rubbed his ears and tried again. "What has happened?" The sound was still muffled.
He considered the possibility that he was dreaming, but he did not really believe it. He was too aware of himself and his situation. Then he remembered how he had arrived on the planet. By transporter. He had felt disoriented and queasy upon his arrival, as had the others who were with him. He felt disoriented now as well, though in a different manner, and the queasiness was definitely present, too. In fact, now that he thought about it, he had to fight the urge to throw up.
He closed his eyes, which helped him somewhat to straighten his thoughts and forget about his stomach. He was still aware of the blackness outside, but it didn't feel nearly as unpleasant anymore. It gave him a chance to examine himself. Starting at his feet, he worked his way up to his head looking for anything that might help explain what had happened. But as he touched his feet, he somehow knew his body would yield only more questions. His feet were bare, although he couldn't remember taking off his boots last night. He touched his legs. They were bare, too. Moving further up, it was soon clear that he was totally naked. The discovery only added to the mystery.
Before he could examine his body for any injuries, something hit him from behind. He grunted in pain and opened his eyes to see what it was. The new view struck him like a blow to the head. He was looking at the classic interior of what appeared to be a train cabin. He was seated in a comfortable chair, dark green plush set with silvery embroidery. For some reason he was back in his uniform and he was grateful even though he didn't understand it. There was room for three more in the cabin, but he was alone. The brown luggage grids were empty. A small chandelier hung down from the ceiling, giving off just the right level of illumination. The table was empty except for his arms resting on it. A newspaper and a magazine lay on the chair next to him.
"JUDGEMENT DAY," he read on the cover of the magazine. Below the large capitals was a photo of a young man with short, blond hair. He was wearing spectacles and the collar of his olive green T-shirt was just visible above a second line of text, "The Lord Summons His Followers."
Rudolf was not sure what to make of it. What did this guy have to do with the lord summoning his followers? Was he perhaps the leader of a religious sect proclaiming the end of the world? Rudolf put the magazine aside, knowing there were more important questions to be answered first. He picked up the newspaper next and wasn't quite sure what to make of the name, "The End of Times." The front page was dominated by a photo of the guy from the magazine. Rudolf read the caption.
"Yesterday at three o'clock local time, the train departed from Cocoon Station. As it journeys to its Destination, the Followers will board it to answer to the Lord's summon. The train is scheduled to arrive tonight at half past nine."
His curiosity piqued by the name of the railway station, Rudolf looked through the newspaper for more information. Unfortunately, and strangely enough, he couldn't find any. He tried the magazine, but that wasn't any help, either. It had a photo shoot of the guy from the cover, but that was all.
He sank back in his chair and suddenly realized how quiet it was. Although he had never travelled by railway, he knew it was a rather noisy business. He turned to the window and opened the blinds covering it. It was pitch black outside. He opened the window but it remained perfectly quiet. It made no sense. Even if this was a magnet train, there would be the rushing of the wind. He stuck his hand out the window and gasped. There was no wind. Like they were travelling through a vacuum, but that was impossible. The air inside the cabin would be sucked right out, and clearly that was not the case.
Finally, he heard something. Footsteps. They were approaching the window. Rudolf backed away just in time as the entire wall came forward. He closed his eyes and wondered if he was going mad. When he looked again, a man in tuxedo was closing the door behind him. Now Rudolf was sure he was going mad. A quick glance around the room confirmed that he was still in the cabin, but the door and the window had switched sides.
"You called, sir?"
Rudolf's eyebrows arched. "I did?"
"You were waving, sir," the man replied stoically. He looked vaguely familiar, but Rudolf couldn't put a name to his face.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Rudolf stammered. "I was... waving at someone else." Was this man a servant aboard this train?
"In that case, I apologize for the intrusion, sir." The man remained stoic, but Rudolf had the idea he was mocking him. "However, now that I am here, may I remind you that dinner is served in fifteen minutes?"
"You may."
"Dinner is served in fifteen minutes, sir."
"What?" Now Rudolf knew for certain the man was mocking him and he was not in the mood to be made fun of. "Thank you, but I am not hungry. Now if you would be so kind to leave, I have business to attend to."
"Pardon me, but I do think you should attend, sir." He lowered his voice to emphasize what he had to say. "The Lord wishes so."
"I'll think about it, okay?"
Before the man could speak again, Rudolf reached past him to open the door and push him out. He locked the door and leaned against it, rubbing his face with both hands. What did this lord want to do with him? He reached for the magazine and watched the cover picture again. The guy could have been him ten years ago, if Rudolf had had another haircut and had worn spectacles. But other than showing a distant resemblance to himself, the guy didn't look like anyone Rudolf knew.
His gaze turned to the clock hanging on the wall and all of a sudden, he was sitting at a very richly set dinner table. The clock hanging across the room showed it was seven o'clock, fifteen minutes later than it was a second ago. His uniform had made place for deep blue trousers and a light green shirt.
"The Lord will be pleased you decided to attend, sir."
Behind him, Rudolf saw the same man who had visited him in his cabin just yet. He had an irreproachably white napkin hanging over his left arm. In his right, he held a bottle of red wine. Chateau du Pêcheur MMIII, the label read.
"Would you care for a glass of wine, sir?"
*Why not,* Rudolf thought. A glass of wine would not kill him in this surreal world, even if it was wine over four centuries old. "Please," he said and the servant filled a golden-rimmed crystal glass. Rudolf carefully tasted the wine and found his doubts ungrounded. It tasted very fine.
All around the circular table, servants were filling glasses with wine or other liquor. He counted ten guests beside himself, three of which he actually recognized. One was the Cardassian consultant from the USS Nightingale, Mr. Mrell. The second was Rudolf's successor on DS101, the Trill Cmdr. Thar Emond. The third was the Cocoon Fleet's personnel officer, the Bajoran BrAdm. Tandro Landi. He nodded at each of them and all three nodded back, even the Admiral. The recognition was not just one-sided.
He let his gaze travel around the table. The seat on his left was empty. The next chair was occupied by a young man with short black hair, pointed ears and a ridged forehead. Perhaps a Vulcan-Klingon hybrid? Suddenly Rudolf remembered him. Lieutenant JG Aniketos was his predecessor as first officer of DS101.
To Aniketos's left were two Human guys looking so much alike that they had to be twins. They seemed to be enjoying themselves thoroughly, pointing at the other guests and laughing at each other's remarks. Rudolf regretted not being able to hear what they were saying as he would have liked to join the fun.
Moving on, he came to the only woman at the table. She was Human and had an eastern tinge to her looks, but her most remarkable feature was the absence of her right arm. He noticed that all her utensils had been placed on the left side of her plate to accommodate her. She looked very pale, but that could very well be normal for her.
Mr. Mrell was next in line, his expression as bland as Rudolf was used to. He was silently sipping from a glass of kanar, observing the party much like Rudolf was. Their eyes met and Mrell said something. "Enjoying the mystery, Commander?" Rudolf heard, but he wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. He gave no response other than moving on one position. The man there was looking particularly sad, like this dinner was the very last place he would have liked to be. He was a Human of African descent, with a very dark skin, black hair and a thick, black beard. Oddly enough, he was looking pale despite his dark complexion.
BrAdm. Tandro was the seventh guest, with his snow-white beard a stark contrast to the African. Tandro was smiling his trademark grandfather smile and he was clearly enjoying himself, in particular, it seemed, with jokes traded across the table with the twins. His wine glass was already nearly empty.
There was a tree standing to Tandro's left, but it was clear soon enough that it was no normal tree. Its low, rumbling voice was audible across the table, but Rudolf could not make out any words. Interestingly, the table in front of the tree person was empty and Rudolf wondered if he would perhaps be eating with his roots.
Next was Cmdr. Emond, with broad shoulders and all. He was sitting with his arms crossed, clearly agitated and making an obvious effort not to enjoy himself. His glass was filled with wine, but he had yet to touch it.
Coming back to Rudolf's right, the last guest was only about half a metre tall. He was sitting on a raised chair so he could use the same table as the others, but his plate and utensils were scaled to his size. His face looked Human, but Rudolf didn't think he really was one. Growth problems this severe had been eradicated long ago.
And then there was the empty chair again on Rudolf's left. The chair itself looked just like the other chairs around the table, but the pillow lying on the seat was just a bit thicker than the rest, and set with golden embroidery that he saw nowhere else. The plate, glass and utensils, too, were just a bit more richly decorated than everyone else's. Just as Rudolf came to the conclusion that this place must be for the lord from the magazine and the newspaper, a pair of large double doors swung open. Flanked by two servants in tuxedo, the lord entered. He was wearing a chequered blue shirt over a pair of silver jeans and dark blue sneakers. As the servants exited again through a smaller door, the lord walked to the empty seat next to Rudolf. Rudolf wondered if he should stand, but seeing that no one else did, he stayed as he was.
"Good evening, everyone," the lord greeted before sitting down. "I see the party has started without me."
Some polite laughter sounded and everyone looked happy, except for the African, Mr. Mrell and Cmdr. Emond. A servant turned up to fill the lord's glass with wine and the lord lifted his glass for a toast.
"To my Followers, without whom I would not be myself."
"My Lord," everyone responded as one and Rudolf was surprised to realize he had spoken as well.
The Lord turned to address Rudolf alone. "I'm glad to see you especially. You are my favourite Follower."
"I know," Rudolf heard himself say and he felt confused. He had never met this guy, this Lord, before, so how could he be his favourite Follower? And why had he said something else than he wanted to say?
"All your questions will be answered once we reach the Destination. But first, let's enjoy this dinner." The Lord smiled like he knew something Rudolf didn't - which indeed seemed to be the case. "Trust me when I say you will like all dishes served. Excuse me."
Rudolf nodded and watched the Lord turn to talk to Aniketos. The first dish was brought in, pieces of fried chicken and slices of mandarin on a bed of green salad, topped with a mayonnaise sauce. Having given up on finding an answer anytime soon, Rudolf decided he might as well enjoy himself for the moment. He finished the very tasty chicken salad and as they waited for the next course, had a talk with some of the other guests. They, too, had no idea why they were here, and except for the four familiar people, they seemed to have no connection whatsoever with Rudolf.
The second course was served, a fine French onion soup with white toast and butter. It was followed by the main course, consisting of a number of cold salads and warm vegetable dishes, fried potatoes and a juicy steak. As he enjoyed himself with the good food, he continued to talk with the Lord and the other guests, but as pleasant as the conversations were, they taught him nothing new. The Lord politely but firmly warded off all questions about where they were and what was going to happen. The servants told him nothing, either. By the time the desert was served, deep-fried melon ice with fresh strawberries and chocolate sauce, he was getting impatient. The clock on the opposite wall was closing on nine o'clock. A servant approached the Lord and said they were nicely on schedule. *But for what?* Rudolf wondered again. He remembered from the newspaper that they should be arriving at half past nine. With a newfound patience, he decided to give the Lord until then to explain what was going on. It calmed him enough to enjoy the last course, a cup of coffee or tea with a slice of warm apple pie with whipped cream.
And finally it was half past nine. A dozen servants entered the room and all guests stood.
"We have arrived at the Destination," the Lord announced. "You will be shown to your rooms now and I will be seeing each of you shortly." He placed a hand on Rudolf's arm. "You can come with me, Rudolf. This way."
A servant held a door open for the two of them and they stepped through, into a hallway. Rudolf turned around and was looking out onto a street lined on either side by brick houses. The dining room had disappeared and the servant with it.
"This is making less and less sense," Rudolf muttered.
"On the contrary," the Lord replied cheerfully. "Come."
He walked up the staircase in front of them and Rudolf had no choice but to follow him. They turned left at the top and entered through a grey door into a bedroom. The door was green on the inside and the walls were a light shade of blue. Dark brown wooden cupboards lined the left wall and they had to round a pale wooden book-case to get to the centre of the room. There was a black bed with blue sheets, and a white desk with an ancient 21st-century personal computer. Three posters lined one wall, the words "Star Trek" displayed prominently on each of them. The Lord gestured at a black fauteuil and Rudolf took it, while the Lord himself took the black chair behind the desk.
-¦-¦-¦-
This is really very strange. Here I am, sitting in my room, face to face with what is in essence only a figment of my imagination. But of course this man, this Commander Rudolf Fischer of the USS Yeager, is much more than that. He is an extension of me, representing many aspects of my own personality, but also displaying characteristics that I do not have myself. He is me, and he is not me, and he is more than me.
"Who are you really?" he asks, truly curious. His gaze shifts restlessly about the room, seeing so many ancient equipment that he must think himself in a museum.
"Your Lord," I answer enigmatically and I enjoy the look of confusion on his face. Yet at the same time I feel a sense of guilt over toying with this man. It's like making bad fun of yourself. I reach behind me to turn on my computer. It comes to life with the whining noise that 25th century computers no longer have.
Rudolf watches the computer with a mix of wonder and apprehension and again I cannot help but enjoy seeing his reaction. He starts to speak, but I silence him with a wave of my hand. I tell him that everything will become clear momentarily. He nods hesitantly.
I turn on the monitor and bring up the screen I want Rudolf to see, then make room behind the desk and invite him to have a look.
'Rudolf stands in front of the desk, the expression on his face showing how puzzled he is by all that is happening,' Rudolf reads on the screen. 'He looks at me and I smile, gesturing back at the screen. The words written there tell so precisely what he is doing and what he is thinking, that in his heart he knows there is only one answer. This guy, his younger self wearing glasses and a different haircut, is indeed his Lord, his creator. And he his Follower.'
I know what Rudolf is thinking. "Believe me, this is as strange for you as it is for me." I want to explain his situation, the essence of his life, but I cannot find the words.
And as I stand silently, he places a hand on my arm. "I understand," he says, and of course he does. I need only write that he understands, and he understands. But it should not really be that easy. I don't want him to be a super being knowing everything and capable of doing anything. His expression changes. "I don't understand."
"No, I can imagine you don't." I smile to put him at ease. I gesture at the fauteuil and he sits down, as do I. "Let's see where to start... First of all, let me correct something I just said. I am not your Lord, nor any other kind of deity. I am just a man of flesh and blood... like yourself." I hope he hasn't noticed my hesitation. "You could call me a creator, though. Your creator, even." He looks even more puzzled now than before my attempted explanation. I try again. "Okay, I guess the best way to teach you about yourself, is to teach you first about your universe." He nods, happy to understand something I say. Puzzlement slowly makes place for anticipation. "Back in the 1960s, a man called Gene Roddenberry created a television science fiction series."
He interrupts me. "Star Trek." He points at the three posters hanging above my bed and I grin.
"Yes, that was the name of the series. It took place aboard a starship called the USS Enterprise, commanded by the famous captain James T. Kirk." Rudolf nods. This is where the terrain becomes more familiar to him. I continue. "For three years, Gene Roddenberry and his team put Kirk and his crew through dozens of adventures. Some twenty years later, Gene created a sequel series, The Next Generation, featuring the Enterprise-D and captain Jean-Luc Picard. By the end of that series, Star Trek had become so successful that the fans were doing any number of things to enjoy the show even more. One such thing was role-playing games, where a group of people would play their own adventures with their own invented characters."
"And you are one of those people and I am such an invented character."
I realize I have just told him he isn't real and suddenly I feel sorry for him. "Yes," is all I manage to say.
For someone whose view of the universe has been so drastically altered in just a few minutes, Rudolf is managing himself very well. I know I would have much more difficulty. Then again, I am the one to decide how he takes this news, and I do not want it to be too hard for him. And so it isn't.
He has many questions and asks one. "The other guests at the dinner, they are also characters in this game?"
I nod. "They are, and more precisely, they are all characters created by me."
"Then Hunter isn't yours," he concludes and now I know he really understands his life and his universe.
"No, she belongs to a player called EJ. She is one of the reasons why this game is so much fun. I mean, I enjoy writing your adventures, but the interaction with other players and their characters adds so much to the enjoyment. And it gives you the opportunity to develop into a completer person, a person more real."
"Thank you," he says, and I believe he means it. "And please thank EJ for me."
I smile at him, saying nothing. I wonder what EJ would think if I thanked her on Rudolf's behalf.
"Why are you telling me all this?" he suddenly asks.
That is a question I knew would come, and I have my answer ready. "For a number of reasons. First of all, you are so important to me that I wanted to meet you in person. Second, it felt like a good idea to write a kind of tribute post to you, to all my other characters and to my fellow players and their characters. All of you have been an important part of my life for the past three years and two months and I needed to say thanks." I smile nervously. "So, thanks, everyone." I pause for a second, wondering what my fellow players are thinking now. I guess they understand. I turn back to Rudolf to give him my last and most important reason. "And third, this is my 500th post for the Holoworld Fleet and I wanted it to be something special."
Rudolf is eyeing me sceptically. "Aren't you taking all this a bit too seriously? Keeping track of how many posts you write, saying thanks to fictitious people, let alone talking to me."
I shrug. "Perhaps, at times, I am. But every man's got to have a hobby, and this is mine. Besides, it's all just harmless fun." He coughs sharply and I know what he means. I realize I should have chosen my words more carefully. "I'm sorry I hurt you from time to time, but you must realize that pain and misfortune are part of any life. There would be no drama, no adventure, no fun if only nice things happen to you."
"True," he says quietly after a while. "Just not overdo it, okay? I may not be real, but I do feel like I am. Imaginative wounds still hurt."
We grin at each other and our eyes meet. We have reached a level of understanding I probably never have with any real person. It is a fascinating experience and I am very glad to have brought Rudolf here with me.
He asks me another question. "What was the deal with the dinner? And with the entire train, for that matter? And the black void?" I stay silent, trying to formulate an answer and meanwhile hoping he will give one of himself. He does after a while. "It was for the others, wasn't it? For the other players. To add an aspect of mystery, to make it a more exciting story."
"Yes," I answer, repeating his answer in my mind and comparing it to my own. "Yes, that's the reason. Because no matter how much I enjoy writing these stories, I do write them to be read."
"And to invite response," he adds, though it isn't clear if he means a continuation of or a comment on a story. I simply nod, content with either option.
We fall silent again and his gaze travels to my monitor, as if he can see there what we're supposed to do next.
"You are another Jonathan Illingworth, aren't you?" he suddenly asks. "Another Nick del Pozo."
For the first time, I am truly surprised. Of course he's right, but I never meant him to say those words. I turn around to look at my monitor and I feel my hear missing a beat. The screen is empty. I scroll up and down. Nothing.
He pushes further. "This encounter, it's not really your own idea, is it?"
This is getting scary. Rudolf is saying things he should not say, things I didn't intend for him to say.
"Well?"
"No, I guess it isn't," I respond, giving in for the moment. "Both Nick and Jonathan had similar encounters with their main character. Obviously, this encounter, this story, is inspired by those two stories. And the same goes for every story I have written and have yet to write. I combine elements from other stories and from my own real-life experiences and turn them into a story for you, or for Mrell, or for Thar." I pause, recalling something. "As a fellow player once said, no event you write has not been written before, but that is not important. What matters is how you have your characters respond to the events. That is what makes a story unique, and that is what makes this story unique from Jonathan's and Nick's."
"Okay, you have a point." I sigh in relief as he once again says something I expected him to say. He breaks into a grin and I realize how tense I must have looked. "I got you there, didn't I?"
I grin sheepishly, making a futile attempt to understand what just happened. "You sure did. And I hope you never do that again."
"Just trying to make a good story," he says as if it's the most natural thing to say. And perhaps it is. "I had better go," he adds quietly. "The others must be wondering where I am." I shake my head, start to say that he will return to the moment he left, but he speaks first. "Just tell me one thing before I go, okay?"
"Sure, anything."
It's two things, actually, but they come down to the same point. "What will happen to me now? Will I remember our encounter?"
I turn away, afraid to look at him as I give my answer. "Not particularly. Like a dream, if you want. Perhaps in the future, I will let you remember more. Until then..." I trail off, doubting my decision again. It seems wrong somehow to take this night away from him. Then again, I cannot have him remember, either. I want him to be as real a person as possible, and a real person doesn't know he isn't real.
"So I will wake up in the morning as if nothing has happened?" he asks when I stay silent.
I make up my mind. "No, not as if nothing happened. I will give you two things. The first is the power to do something that no other man I know can do. Use it wisely and it will help you. But know this: abuse will lead to suffer and not even I can prevent that." I see the obvious question in his eyes, but I deflect it before he can pose it. "And no, I will not tell you what it is. You will have to discover for yourself." I pause for a second, than name my other gift. "Second, I promise you that I will never kill you. As long as you are mine to write, you will live a happy and healthy life."
He breaks into a grin. "I suppose that's the most valuable gift anyone has ever given me."
"A valuable gift for a valuable person," I respond. "Enjoy it."
He smiles, happy and grateful for the experience of tonight. We shake hands, then I lead him out of my room and down the stairs. I open the door for him.
We shake hands again, and hug, then he steps out onto the pavement, back into his life.
"Farewell," he says, I say, we say.
He steps through.
-¦-¦-¦-
Rudolf woke with a start and felt like he was still dreaming. He turned around to wave a final goodbye to... To whom? He opened his eyes and saw the camp fire. He sat up and, alerted by his movements, Naalauilos walked over.
"Are you alright, sir?"
"Yeah," he said. "Just a little disoriented, that's all. I'll be fine."
