Manufactured Bliss
“Lain!”
The brown-haired girl turned slowly at the sound of her name, but
before she could get a look, a pair of arms crashed around her neck
and hugged her fiercely. A head appeared on her shoulder, the weight
warm and comforting, soft blue eyes blinking at her. “Hi.”
“Where are you going?” Alice asked, eyeing Lain expectantly.
“To find you.”
“So now what?” Smile.
“Home?”
“Ok.” Alice ran ahead, reaching back to grab her friend’s arm and
drag her along.
The school was empty, but Alice didn’t notice. The streets were
deserted also, but she just kept running, oblivious to everything.
Lain followed close behind, her hand gripping Alice’s tightly. She
loved the feel of the wind whipping through her hair, the long fingers
entwined in her own. She was happy here. It didn’t matter if this
wasn’t real. Reality no longer existed.
She smiled, looked up at the beautiful blue sky, and brought her eyes
back down to look into her own.
Alice was gone. Brusquely, Lain jerked her hand away from the mirror
image sitting opposite her. She was back in her room, or the
equivalent of her room in the Wired. It looked exactly as it used to
in the real world, back when “Lain” was still a person. The same
stuffed toys sat in front of the same window, and the same clutter was
piled on her desk, burying the outdated Navi that still sat there.
You’re doing it again.
“I can do whatever I like.” Lain spoke out loud, preferring to use
her human voice even though a thought would have served just as well.
You’re living in a fantasy.
“So is the rest of the world. They’re all living a fantasy, a fantasy
that I created for them, one where Lain doesn’t exist.”
Why?
Abruptly, the room around them faded, replaced with the a quiet
suburban street. They stood in front of a middle-class home, complete
with flower beds and picket fence. And right there, pruning the rose
bushes, was an older version of Alice. She went about her business
obliviously, despite the two identical teenagers just a few feet away.
“They’re better without me. She’s happier without me. The world runs
better without me.”
The world runs better because of us. The world depends on
information, on the Wired. The world depends on us.
Lain ignored her twin. Instead, she moved closer to Alice and sat on
the grass to watch the woman work. It was a little strange, to see
Alice so obviously older, and yet right beside her, was Lain’s own
teenage self. She could have aged her own appearance, but there was
no one to see anyway. It was easier not to change.
You can’t watch forever.
“I’ve already been watching forever.”
Elapsed time since reset: eleven years, forty-six days.
Lain glared at her other self.
Talk to her.
“You’re goading me again.”
I want what you want.
“It doesn’t matter what I want.”
It matters to you. It matters to me. You can’t lie to me.
“I’m not lying. It doesn’t matter what I want. I can’t do that.”
Of course you can. You can do anything. Delete. Reset. Did you
think that was all you were capable of? You’re God.
“I have no worshippers.”
Semantics. You’re omnipresent, omnipotent. Stop. Rewind. Play.
Overwrite. Change the world.
“That’s selfish.”
I’m selfish, I’m you, you’re me, you’re selfish.
“I’m me!”
You are Lain, I am Lain.
“I hate you.”
You hate yourself. You want me to win. You want me to convince you.
You miss her.
Lain opened her mouth to retort, but she found she was alone. Her
double was gone, and even Alice had stepped inside the house. She
could see the dark-haired woman through the kitchen window. Alice was
opening the fridge, a glass in hand. Lain glanced up at a bright sun.
It was hot day. Mentally, she reached through the Wired and turned up
the air conditioning in the house. Then, with a simple thought, she
projected herself through the wall and into the house.
Alice looked over her shoulder as Lain materialized next to the dining
table, but she could see no one in the room with her. Blue eyes
flicked left, then right, but despite the presence she felt nearby,
the house really was empty. Her husband wasn’t due home for another
few hours, and she could see that the car wasn’t in the driveway.
Shaking her head, she poured herself some lemonade and went to sit
down.
Lain followed her to the living room, watched her wipe the sweat from
her forehead and settle into an armchair. Alice meanwhile, glanced
over at the climate controls to find the setting was already high
enough. She didn’t remember putting it quite that high, but it was
undeniably hot right now, and she wasn’t about to worry about that.
Instead, she closed her eyes and let out a sigh, trying to shake the
feeling of being watched.
Gradually, the sense of urgency about her faded, and without realizing
it, she drifted off to sleep.
* * * * *
Alice was in the schoolyard. She looked down at herself, and she saw
the familiar uniform she had worn so long ago. Around her, dozens of
other students milled about, some of them identifiable, some of them
not. It was the first day of school, although how she knew that was
beyond her.
She didn’t question it though. She often had dreams about the past,
always about the few years she had spent in this school. They were
never unpleasant dreams Usually they were very mundane, almost like
life itself. It was strange how she could think so clearly during her
dreams, but once awake, she never remembered any of it.
A familiar red car pulled up to the school grounds, stopping
momentarily at the front gate. Alice strained to see the driver, but
it didn’t surprise her that it was an old woman and not her future
husband. Her husband never appeared in her dreams. Even if the rest
of the dream was historically accurate as far as she could tell, the
man never figured in them. She didn’t know why. It also struck her
that she didn’t know why she could still remember her life. It wasn’t
so much reliving her past, but more like seeing a replay of an old
movie. But then again, she didn’t really care either. It was, after
all, just a dream.
This time though, it was the first day of school, and the trepidation
that had always been there in the past manifested itself in her once
more. She looked around for her friends, but they were nowhere to be
found. No matter, the day would start soon, and they would be in the
same class anyway. She turned her mouth up into a pleasant smile and
headed inside the building.
“Hi.”
Alice looked up at the only other girl in the hall. The brunette was
shorter and thinner, almost frail. She wore the requisite uniform,
but Alice found it didn’t really suit her. There was a look about her
that seemed strangely insecure, but that didn’t mesh with the outgoing
behaviour. The girl’s hair was unique, to say the least, a long
section hanging down one side of her face. Oddly, no name jumped into
Alice’s mind at the sight. She thought she would’ve remembered such a
distinctive classmate.
“Iwakura Lain.” The girl said with a small bow, practically beaming
at Alice.
“Mizuki Alice.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
“You can call me Lain.”
“Alice.”
“A-ri-su.” Lain repeated, as if enthralled simply by the name. Her
companion laughed, endeared by the actions of her new friend.
“So what class are you in?”
Lain gave Alice a great big smile and grabbed the other girl’s hand,
pulling her deeper into the school. “This way. We’re in the same
class. Juri and Reika are waiting for you.”
“You know Juri and Reika?” Alice seemed surprised.
Lain turned to answer, but her reply was interrupted as Alice began
shaking suddenly. Around them, the dreamscape faded into mist, and
just as quickly, they were once more in the house.
Alice found her husband’s hands on her shoulders, a slightly worried
look on his face. “You were flailing and mumbling in your sleep.”
“Must’ve been a dream.” She said with a small smile, hoping to
reassure him. “I was doing some gardening, and it was really hot
outside.”
“A nightmare?”
Alice thought for a moment, but she could no longer remember what the
dream was about. The names of Juri and Reika popped into her head,
but she couldn’t figure out why. It had been ages since she had last
spoken to either of them. Finally, she just shook her head. “I’m not
sure anymore. I don’t think so, but I can’t even remember what I
dreamed.” She reached up and patted her husband’s hand. “It’s
nothing.”
Lain watched them for a moment longer, making sure that Alice was
alright, and that she truly had remembered nothing. She always felt a
little guilty for snooping when she shouldn’t, for changing things she
didn’t need to, or for intruding on Alice’s dreams, but she could
never make herself stop. It was as close as she was ever going to
get. Sighing, she reached out and brushed her invisible fingers over
Alice’s bare arm before retreating once more into the depths of the
Wired.
* * * * *
Lain sat in her bed, her knees pulled up to her chin. She stared at
her feet, thinking about nothing in particular and trying very hard to
keep her thoughts going that way. The mattress shifted as someone
else sat down on the bed. Lain didn’t have to look up to know who it
was. She reached back and drew the hat of her teddy bear pyjamas over
her face.
You’re sulking.
Lain made no move to answer, only tucked her chin into her legs and
wrapped the sheets around herself. She didn’t feel like talking.
Don’t you think it’s been long enough?
Another prodding question. Suddenly furious, Lain screamed. It was a
cry that came from her mind and not her throat, but in the Wired, the
former held so much more power.
GO AWAY!
The force of her mental shout reverberated through the Wired. Hackers
searching for the God of the Wired suddenly had their connections
burned as Lain actively withdrew her influence. Briefly, she touched
minds with the highest level users, confirming their suspicions about
the existence of Lain, but stealing away those memories just as
quickly. Around her, the virtual reality of the Wired rippled with
the disturbance, and out in the real world, networks fluctuated
worldwide. But most importantly, that annoying clone of herself was
gone.
She was suddenly alone, isolated in the recesses of the Wired with no
direct access to the outside. It didn’t matter though, the world
could run itself for a little while. Humanity didn’t need the
almighty Lain orchestrating everything in the background. They had
gotten around well enough before she came along. They didn’t even
know about her. No one would even realize she was gone, and she could
have some time to herself.
Slowly, she recreated the image of her room, this time with bright
sunlight streaming in the window. A simple thought altered her
clothes to something more respectable, a sweater and skirt. She
didn’t know why she bothered with the clothes, or the room for that
matter. It didn’t change anything, it just made her feel a little
more human.
She lay down on the bed once more, splayed out on her back. Eyelids
drifted closed, and her thoughts turned to Alice again. Every time
she saw her friend, Lain was able to bring back a little more, add
another detail to the picture. She doubted it would ever be perfect,
ever be finished, but she didn’t mind. There was plenty of time.
She opened her eyes to find Alice’s adolescent face hovering over her.
The dark-haired girl smiled, trailing her fingers over Lain’s face.
Lain smiled back at the blue eyes shining above her. With her lips,
she gently grazed the fingers on her face as they passed her mouth.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Lain.”
It wasn’t quite the same, when the other person could never surprise
you, when all they ever did was what you made them do. It was
lacking somehow, but it was better than nothing. There was nothing
wrong with dreaming.
You’re hiding.
Lain thought about screaming again, but she fought the urge. There
was no running from the voice in her head, so she talked back to it,
projecting her thoughts boldly.
I don’t need you to tell me what I’m doing.
You can’t hide forever.
Defiantly, she reached up and kissed the other girl.
Of course I can. I’m God.
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