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Chapter 14
“Greetings detective. I am Dr. Justan Lok, you were recommended to me, as you know, because I have been treating Galileo for almost five years now. They thought it best that I help you come to terms with whatever mess that place caused in you.” The doctor said standing in beige trousers and a deep red jumper. It fitted well, he was handsome. Blue eyes.
Remaining in the doorway with disbelief. “Why will none of you listen to me? Are you all goddamn idiots? Burn the fucking place to the fucking ground. What about that do you not understand?” Stormed the detective into the room. He sat, angrily. Turned and laid out on the cliché couch. “Can't you see? It makes no logical sense why it should be kept open. It's like a bad fucking joke.”
Sitting. “Yes, well detective, the Paradoxia, for all its faults, is simply too important to be destroyed.” The doctor turned with a smile unbefitting the moment.
Exasperated the detective was worn of his rage, tired of refusal and dejected. “But no-one except Galileo ever stays there. And now, with that fucking thing in it. Surely?” A slight return of energy made an opening sufficient enough to sit the detective forwards.
Barely moving. “That’s not really my decision to make detective but tell me, what is this thing you’re talking about. I haven’t ever heard Galileo mention it.” The doctor did not wish to arouse the detective's ramblings further.
An indiscriminate acceptance of the doctor's ignorance did not surprise the detective. “He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t want anything to risk that place.”
“So, he is aware of this… corruption? Is it?” Lok deliberately paused.
“He is the goddamn corruption.”
Adjusting himself with difficultly, the doctor, Lok continued despite his complete lack of interest in the detective. “You’re not making much sense detective. Are you saying it was Galileo who tried to kill you. I was under the impression, and perhaps I merely read this report wrong. But I was under the impression you said it was something else.” He tapped a dossier.
“They’re one and the same.” Vexed the detective.
“I fail to understand detective? Please if you could be a little clearer.” Shuffling impatiently.
A return, unwelcome, ushered its way into the detective's generally resolved mind. “The thing… It tricked me, I thought I’d left the hotel, but it was just the walls, but more than that, it was all real. I could smell things, feel the wind, everything about it. It just seemed real. That’s when Galileo came out. He started talking crazy, sounded like he was threatening me. Only it wasn’t Galileo. It wanted me to follow it somewhere, I don’t know why, it had me in a room already. I don’t know what it wanted but suddenly it just turned off. I heard Cynthia the A.I. that’s when I first realised I was still inside. She doesn’t have any outside speakers.” The detective little by little dreamed the horror of his own inadequacy, to be trapped without knowing. The wasp, the nest, self-sacrificing host.
“I see, so this room, you say it felt real. But it was inside the hotel?”
“It seemed it at the time, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I was just happy to be out of there. I thought I’d escaped whatever that thing was... I just took it all for granted.” The unperceived memory seemed so vague, the world he saw simply bland and yet strikingly colourful. The aspect, the thing people should be paying attention to. It just wasn't there. Wasn't properly there. It was like a memory of a story, one where you remember it but not from your own eyes. A memory from somewhere looking down at you. A truth that never existed.
“The corruption, it is manifested by the A.I.? I mean is it part of the system?”
“How the hell would I know?”
“The A.I. is the walls detective, it makes everything that you see in there. This corruption is nothing more than a bug in the system. I’m sure she will be fixed as soon as the engineers get on to it.”
“And then what? The hotel stays open? People unwittingly walk into hell? And for what? So you can marvel at man’s own atrocity? You’re all a bunch of fucking psychos.” The definite nature of his disbelief spanned all aspects of the situation. How does this world make sense? Why, why don't they shut it? What keeps the damned fucking place open? What do they want to find in there? It needs destroying. But it won't.
“I get that a lot from my clients detective.”
“I bet you do.”
Moments of silence.
Finding the exchange to be of little further use Lok broke the silence. “What do you think of Galileo detective?” The high degree of the doctor's profession ebbed with his flawless ability to naturally change a subject in a perfectly agreeable and welcome manner.
“What do you want me to say?” Conceded the detective without knowledge of the doctor's guile.
“Whatever comes to mind. I’m just trying to get another perspective on him, as you know he is not exactly the most sociable of people so I only ever hear his story, at least what he wants me to hear. But you I feel have gotten a little closer to him than I have.” At least this may be of some use, Lok reasoned.
“Everything is a game to him. That’s for sure. Even when people die all he sees is an opportunity to be a fool. And what’s strange… What really gets me… is that it’s not fake. He really is happy there.”
“He seemed different recently don’t you agree?”
“Unsettled, perhaps. When I went there, he was confined in his room. He’s never in his room, I’ve only ever seen him in the lobby before.”
“Confined?”
“He’d told the A.I. he was confining himself to his room.”
“Have you ever seen his project detective?”
“No, he rarely ever mentions it. He’s always playing butler.”
“He told me he had completed it you know. That it was a failure.” Hiding something. Somehow.
Surprised, upwards from his head-holden hands. “Really?”
Gently nodding, “Yes, do you know what the failure was detective?”
“That it’s not real?”
“That it’s not the past detective.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a failure because he wanted to live in the past but now he can’t, the past is there but he doesn’t fit into it.”
“So”
“So, I believe he started a new project detective.”
“What’s he doing?”
“I suspect; he is trying to make himself. At least a past version who can live a new future from that point.” Complicity, with that machine? No, she’s monitored. Where can it be but be unseen?
“What?”
Regaining room awareness with a spasmodic awakening-from-daydreams movement. “His aim is to recreate them all, including himself. To trap them in the Paradoxia and watch. Bringing the world around them to life. You saw yourself first hand. He has created a near perfect clone of reality in there.” The fastidious attention to filing was remarkable. (There’s two things about the mind Doc, its filing system and its entry fields; everything else, just a combination of the two) (4th June 2019, session 58). The goddamn irony.
“There’s no way he could, surely?”
“He has the A.I.”
“And it could do that?”
“I’m not an engineer, but the Paradoxia was built with the best mankind had to offer.”
“A box within a box.”
“Pardon.”
“No, it’s just something I remember Galileo saying once. It struck me odd, almost like it was angry.”
“Galileo was angry?”
“It was just the tone, I remember thinking at the time that the anger was frustration, maybe made him a killer. It was more seething though, like he hated it. I remember now, it was just after one of the inmates died, the one with the letter that mentions Galileo and the thing.”
“A box within a box. Interesting. And you say this happened how long ago?”
“When that prisoner died. Docks. Angus docks. He’d been an aristocrat, put away because he took things a little too far a little too often. Ended up killing two kids in a hit and run.”
“But several months correct detective?”
“It was April twenty-sixth two-thousand and twenty-two, so about seventeen months ago to the day.”
“So, he finished his project a lot earlier than he let me know.”
“I don’t think Galileo is ever really truthful about anything.”
“No, he always plays his masquerade.” Lok remembered the efficacy of Galileo saying, ‘I have the inexhaustible optimism of a man who always believes his losses are down to luck and his victories are down to skill.’, well-rehearsed, delivered in the wrong context. He was too eager to say it once he had it. His face always had an expectant quiddity when he had found something he was proud of, like a child.
“That place needs to be burned. You know it does doc.”
“Let’s not start this again detective.” His childhood was normal, no reason to suspect anything different. He experiences the hotel the same way we all do. Is he immune to willpower depletion? The grief must be at the heart of this, but why is he so determined. Why can’t he let go?
“Well I’m done here doc. If you won’t listen to reason, then I’m done.”
“This is most informative detective, surely we can converse just a little longer. I’d really appreciate it. There are many things I would like to know. I’m sure if you just talked it out some more…” He won’t break the law. He’s desperate, not insane.
“Not happening doc. I’ve said my piece; the hour is up I’m going to the office.” Determined with action.
“There is no way I can convince you? What about the corruption? Would you stay to talk about that with me some more?”
“I’ve already got to talk to those engineer guys who are headed up there. If you’re as connected as I suspect doctor I’m sure you’ll find out what you want to know.”
“Very well detective. But I expect you to return in a fortnight for a catch up. I can make that mandatory from headquarters. I am that well connected at least.”
“Have it your way.”
Leaving the detective felt uncomfortable. His parka wouldn’t sit right. Lok hastily made a show of standing up and shaking the detective hand before he ushered him to the door. He used both hands to encompass. Directing the detective unnecessarily to the reception Lok returned to his chair and clicked his computer out of stand-by. The screen popped and flicked a database of audio files and assorted notes into frame. Lok then plugged in the sd card from his dictaphone and began the upload a file. Detective_Session_Numbers_1.
Remaining in the doorway with disbelief. “Why will none of you listen to me? Are you all goddamn idiots? Burn the fucking place to the fucking ground. What about that do you not understand?” Stormed the detective into the room. He sat, angrily. Turned and laid out on the cliché couch. “Can't you see? It makes no logical sense why it should be kept open. It's like a bad fucking joke.”
Sitting. “Yes, well detective, the Paradoxia, for all its faults, is simply too important to be destroyed.” The doctor turned with a smile unbefitting the moment.
Exasperated the detective was worn of his rage, tired of refusal and dejected. “But no-one except Galileo ever stays there. And now, with that fucking thing in it. Surely?” A slight return of energy made an opening sufficient enough to sit the detective forwards.
Barely moving. “That’s not really my decision to make detective but tell me, what is this thing you’re talking about. I haven’t ever heard Galileo mention it.” The doctor did not wish to arouse the detective's ramblings further.
An indiscriminate acceptance of the doctor's ignorance did not surprise the detective. “He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t want anything to risk that place.”
“So, he is aware of this… corruption? Is it?” Lok deliberately paused.
“He is the goddamn corruption.”
Adjusting himself with difficultly, the doctor, Lok continued despite his complete lack of interest in the detective. “You’re not making much sense detective. Are you saying it was Galileo who tried to kill you. I was under the impression, and perhaps I merely read this report wrong. But I was under the impression you said it was something else.” He tapped a dossier.
“They’re one and the same.” Vexed the detective.
“I fail to understand detective? Please if you could be a little clearer.” Shuffling impatiently.
A return, unwelcome, ushered its way into the detective's generally resolved mind. “The thing… It tricked me, I thought I’d left the hotel, but it was just the walls, but more than that, it was all real. I could smell things, feel the wind, everything about it. It just seemed real. That’s when Galileo came out. He started talking crazy, sounded like he was threatening me. Only it wasn’t Galileo. It wanted me to follow it somewhere, I don’t know why, it had me in a room already. I don’t know what it wanted but suddenly it just turned off. I heard Cynthia the A.I. that’s when I first realised I was still inside. She doesn’t have any outside speakers.” The detective little by little dreamed the horror of his own inadequacy, to be trapped without knowing. The wasp, the nest, self-sacrificing host.
“I see, so this room, you say it felt real. But it was inside the hotel?”
“It seemed it at the time, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I was just happy to be out of there. I thought I’d escaped whatever that thing was... I just took it all for granted.” The unperceived memory seemed so vague, the world he saw simply bland and yet strikingly colourful. The aspect, the thing people should be paying attention to. It just wasn't there. Wasn't properly there. It was like a memory of a story, one where you remember it but not from your own eyes. A memory from somewhere looking down at you. A truth that never existed.
“The corruption, it is manifested by the A.I.? I mean is it part of the system?”
“How the hell would I know?”
“The A.I. is the walls detective, it makes everything that you see in there. This corruption is nothing more than a bug in the system. I’m sure she will be fixed as soon as the engineers get on to it.”
“And then what? The hotel stays open? People unwittingly walk into hell? And for what? So you can marvel at man’s own atrocity? You’re all a bunch of fucking psychos.” The definite nature of his disbelief spanned all aspects of the situation. How does this world make sense? Why, why don't they shut it? What keeps the damned fucking place open? What do they want to find in there? It needs destroying. But it won't.
“I get that a lot from my clients detective.”
“I bet you do.”
Moments of silence.
Finding the exchange to be of little further use Lok broke the silence. “What do you think of Galileo detective?” The high degree of the doctor's profession ebbed with his flawless ability to naturally change a subject in a perfectly agreeable and welcome manner.
“What do you want me to say?” Conceded the detective without knowledge of the doctor's guile.
“Whatever comes to mind. I’m just trying to get another perspective on him, as you know he is not exactly the most sociable of people so I only ever hear his story, at least what he wants me to hear. But you I feel have gotten a little closer to him than I have.” At least this may be of some use, Lok reasoned.
“Everything is a game to him. That’s for sure. Even when people die all he sees is an opportunity to be a fool. And what’s strange… What really gets me… is that it’s not fake. He really is happy there.”
“He seemed different recently don’t you agree?”
“Unsettled, perhaps. When I went there, he was confined in his room. He’s never in his room, I’ve only ever seen him in the lobby before.”
“Confined?”
“He’d told the A.I. he was confining himself to his room.”
“Have you ever seen his project detective?”
“No, he rarely ever mentions it. He’s always playing butler.”
“He told me he had completed it you know. That it was a failure.” Hiding something. Somehow.
Surprised, upwards from his head-holden hands. “Really?”
Gently nodding, “Yes, do you know what the failure was detective?”
“That it’s not real?”
“That it’s not the past detective.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a failure because he wanted to live in the past but now he can’t, the past is there but he doesn’t fit into it.”
“So”
“So, I believe he started a new project detective.”
“What’s he doing?”
“I suspect; he is trying to make himself. At least a past version who can live a new future from that point.” Complicity, with that machine? No, she’s monitored. Where can it be but be unseen?
“What?”
Regaining room awareness with a spasmodic awakening-from-daydreams movement. “His aim is to recreate them all, including himself. To trap them in the Paradoxia and watch. Bringing the world around them to life. You saw yourself first hand. He has created a near perfect clone of reality in there.” The fastidious attention to filing was remarkable. (There’s two things about the mind Doc, its filing system and its entry fields; everything else, just a combination of the two) (4th June 2019, session 58). The goddamn irony.
“There’s no way he could, surely?”
“He has the A.I.”
“And it could do that?”
“I’m not an engineer, but the Paradoxia was built with the best mankind had to offer.”
“A box within a box.”
“Pardon.”
“No, it’s just something I remember Galileo saying once. It struck me odd, almost like it was angry.”
“Galileo was angry?”
“It was just the tone, I remember thinking at the time that the anger was frustration, maybe made him a killer. It was more seething though, like he hated it. I remember now, it was just after one of the inmates died, the one with the letter that mentions Galileo and the thing.”
“A box within a box. Interesting. And you say this happened how long ago?”
“When that prisoner died. Docks. Angus docks. He’d been an aristocrat, put away because he took things a little too far a little too often. Ended up killing two kids in a hit and run.”
“But several months correct detective?”
“It was April twenty-sixth two-thousand and twenty-two, so about seventeen months ago to the day.”
“So, he finished his project a lot earlier than he let me know.”
“I don’t think Galileo is ever really truthful about anything.”
“No, he always plays his masquerade.” Lok remembered the efficacy of Galileo saying, ‘I have the inexhaustible optimism of a man who always believes his losses are down to luck and his victories are down to skill.’, well-rehearsed, delivered in the wrong context. He was too eager to say it once he had it. His face always had an expectant quiddity when he had found something he was proud of, like a child.
“That place needs to be burned. You know it does doc.”
“Let’s not start this again detective.” His childhood was normal, no reason to suspect anything different. He experiences the hotel the same way we all do. Is he immune to willpower depletion? The grief must be at the heart of this, but why is he so determined. Why can’t he let go?
“Well I’m done here doc. If you won’t listen to reason, then I’m done.”
“This is most informative detective, surely we can converse just a little longer. I’d really appreciate it. There are many things I would like to know. I’m sure if you just talked it out some more…” He won’t break the law. He’s desperate, not insane.
“Not happening doc. I’ve said my piece; the hour is up I’m going to the office.” Determined with action.
“There is no way I can convince you? What about the corruption? Would you stay to talk about that with me some more?”
“I’ve already got to talk to those engineer guys who are headed up there. If you’re as connected as I suspect doctor I’m sure you’ll find out what you want to know.”
“Very well detective. But I expect you to return in a fortnight for a catch up. I can make that mandatory from headquarters. I am that well connected at least.”
“Have it your way.”
Leaving the detective felt uncomfortable. His parka wouldn’t sit right. Lok hastily made a show of standing up and shaking the detective hand before he ushered him to the door. He used both hands to encompass. Directing the detective unnecessarily to the reception Lok returned to his chair and clicked his computer out of stand-by. The screen popped and flicked a database of audio files and assorted notes into frame. Lok then plugged in the sd card from his dictaphone and began the upload a file. Detective_Session_Numbers_1.
- What game are you playing Galileo? (14:42)
- What does he know that I don’t? (14:44)
- Put the lime in the coconut and shake it all up. (15:31)