Project Khepri : Chapter 2 (Patreon)

Chapter 2: I Dreamed I Was A

“What are your initial observations?”

Dr. Molly Simon folded her arms. “She’s… sad.”

Commander Scott blinked, turning towards the shorter woman. “Sad? We’ve just had a woman with no brain activity wake up and start moving around, and that’s your first read on the situation?”

Simon drew back slightly, even though his voice contained no reproach. “You wanted my assessment.”

He looked at her for a long moment, before nodding, bringing his coffee back to his lips. “I suppose I did, at that.”

The two of them were standing off the side of the medical facility. Half a dozen doctors and nurses bustled into and out of the room, as if they were stuck in orbit around Sleeping Beauty. For her part, the dark-haired woman was being remarkably cooperative, even if she hadn’t shared her name.

“All the same, I hardly believed you’d cracked another egg open, Doctor Simon.”

Simon jumped slightly as Commander Scott continued speaking. She gave an awkward chuckle. “Full disclosure, I don’t think it was me, sir.”

“Hmm?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I think it was something Ada did, when she… interacted with Sleeping Beauty.” Simon gave a helpless shrug. “We already know there are a host of things we don’t know about her physiology, her finding a way to interact with our brain-dead coma patient isn’t… entirely beyond the realm of possibility.”

“It seems about as likely as your magic hands, Doctor.”

Simon slumped at his words. “I’m never gonna live that down…”

He gave a mild chuckle. “It would seem so,” Scott said. “Still, if Project Ada was involved in waking up Subject 17, why is our little friend so terrified of her all of a sudden?”

Simon glanced down, hands reaching out to slowly comb through Ada’s hair. The little albino alien was curled up, practically in a ball, behind Simon’s legs. A single red eye peeked out from behind the edge of Simon’s lab coat, and the doctor didn’t think Ada had blinked the past 20 minutes.

Another sign that the eyes only look similar to our eyes… Simon filed the thought away for later. “I’m not sure, sir.” She shrugged. “It’s almost as though from one moment to the next, Ada realized that Sleeping Beauty was a threat.”

“Is she a threat?” Scott asked. “In your professional opinion.”

“It’s too soon to say.” Simon worried her lip. “Right now, she’s completely docile, and it’s hard to imagine what a one-armed woman could do with all the soldiers we have on base…”

“At the same time.” Scott drummed his fingers against his bicep. “It’s hard to imagine an individual with no brain activity moving under their own volition.” Simon nodded helplessly at his words. The commander sighed. “I’ll have a few words with security. That’s my concern.”

“And mine?”

Commander Scott gave a shrug. “See what you can learn from our friend, here. Have Runarsdottir escort Ada back to her room until she calms down.”

Simon winced. She’d been hoping (just a bit) to foist Sleepy Beauty off on Dot and the rest of the medical team, but for better or for worse, the commander respected her abilities in Xenology and outsider studies.

“Understood,” she said.

Scott gave her sharp nod before exiting the room. Simon likewise drew Ada off to the side, beckoning Dot to follow. Even as they shuffled out of the room, Ada’s eyes remained focused on Sleeping Beauty. She didn’t even blink when the door slid shut to the room.

“Dot, can you…” Simon waved helplessly at Ada. “This behavior isn’t like her. I think I agree with the Commander that she probably needs some space to calm down.”

Dot raised an eyebrow. “You drew the short straw, huh?” She waved off Simon’s protests. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Ada gets settled.” She crouched down next to Ada. “Hey, there, you’re gonna come with me now, okay?”

Ada tilted her head, eyes unmoving.

Dot smiled. “That’s right, come on, this way.” She placed a gentle hand on Ada’s shoulder, slowly leading the girl away from the hospital room. After a few steps Ada’s gaze flicked over to Simon, brow furrowing in something that could maybe be called worry.

“Don’t worry about me!” Simon put on a cheery smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. Be a good girl, Ada.”

Ada’s tongue flicked out to sample the air. She gave Simon an aggrieved look, but all the same let Dot lead her around the corner and out of sight.

After a moment, Simon sighed, running a hand through her hair. “See what you can get from Sleeping Beauty.” She huffed. “Right. Well, best get on that.”

She turned and marched back into the hospital room, taking note of the doctors still crowding around the only occupied bed. At least three of them were fiddling with the EEG, as if they were trying to figure out why it couldn’t pick up her brain activity. That, Simon felt, was kind of the problem. They were so sure they just had to tweak something, and it would all suddenly become unraveled.

Simon tended to have a bit of a shorter fuse than that, not… that it hadn’t worked out for her at least some of the time.

“Alright people!” She clapped her hands. “I’m sure we have plenty of new data to go over. For the moment, let’s give Sle—seventeen some space! She’ll still be here tomorrow.”

There was some good-natured grumbling as the rest of the room took a collective step back. Still, she managed to get the room cleared well enough, sending Nurse Michaels down to the cafeteria to pick up some broth.

Simon almost didn’t notice when a man in sharp fatigues slipped into the room, moving to stand unobtrusively by the door, and just out of sight.

“Right.” Simon gave Sleeping Beauty a small smile as she plopped down on the bed next to her. “Sorry about that, you know how it goes.”

Sleeping Beauty nodded. She looked at Simon out of the corner of her eye before her gaze went forward again. Right now, the back of the bed was raised, allowing the woman to sit mostly upright. She’d been responsive, if a bit listless, as the full suite (pun intended) of doctors checked her vitals and took some blood and other samples. Still, Simon doubted the woman was just going to become a chatterbox because they were suddenly having a tête-à-tête.

“I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier,” she decided to start with. “I’m Doctor Molly Simon.” She reached over, picking up the woman’s chart again. They’d gotten a few more bits of information; age: 19 or 20, cause of the injury: a bullet, method of transportation: a door.

Not, strictly speaking, that those answers were helpful.

“You didn’t want to share your name?” Simon asked. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but it would be easier to talk if we didn’t have to keep referring to you as Subject 17.”

The woman’s head turned slowly. It felt like a strangely alien gesture, even though Simon couldn’t quite put her finger on why. “You don’t call me Subject 17.” Her voice was quiet, but after a few more cups of water it had settled into a smooth contra-alto. “You call me sleeping beauty.”

Simon let out a startled laugh. “Ah, one of the docs let that slip, huh. Sorry about that.” She waved a hand. “It’s just because you wouldn’t wake up, after all. I’ll tell everyone to knock if off.”

Especially if she could get this sleeping beauty’s name by the end of it.

The woman on the bed raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.”

Simon blinked. For a moment, her voice took on a different tone, sounding almost dry. Then Sleeping—Subject 17 paused, eyes squeezing shut. There was a moment of raw anguish that flickered over her face before her features smoothed back out.

“Hey.” Simon leaned forward, gently taking the woman’s hand. “It’s okay. You… you don’t have to tell me your name if you don’t want to.”

The woman blinked slowly, eyes tracking back to Doctor Simon. “It’s not that. It’s… I don’t know what my name is.”

“Amnesia?”

The woman shook her head.

Simon paused. “Not… amnesia.”

“Not amnesia,” the woman said.

“Oh. Okay.” What she wouldn’t give for a psychologist right now.

“I’d prefer it if you stayed for a while,” the woman said suddenly. Simon blinked at the non-sequitur. “And… I have a question.”

“A question?”

“This will go much faster if we don’t keep repeating each other.” Again, for a second, the wit was back. This time the woman let out a shuddering breath, tearing her hand from Simon’s to press it to her face.

“Hey, hey…!” Simon leaned forward, gently rubbing the woman’s shoulder. “Deep breaths. Whatever it is, we’ll help figure it out, okay? Deep breaths.”

“Deep breaths won’t help.” Still, the woman obeyed, sucking in a lungful of air before expelling it like a bellow, slumping back on the bed. “Of all the things to learn…” she muttered, “pushing feelings into something else.”

“Sometimes it’s helpful, isn’t it?” Simon tilted her head. “I mean… sometimes you just need to get through the day, right? Then you can sort everything else out.”

The woman gave her a long stare. Her gaze returned to the ceiling. “I feel like… I’m waking up after so long asleep.”

Simon blinked. “You are?”

“As though I’ve been dreaming my whole life, and have only now awakened.” The woman paused, eyelids fluttering. “Or maybe this is the dream, and if I bite my tongue it will end. But…” She took another shuddering breath. “I do not… I don’t—I don’t want to go gently into that good night. I want to believe the dream is real.”

It occurred to Simon that the woman wasn’t talking about her coma. Suddenly she wished she’d let Dot talk her into watching Inception.

“It’s… okay.” Simon’s voice came out wooden. She swallowed, before trying again. “No, that’s kind of a lie isn’t it? I’m sure you’re not okay.” Simon nodded. “But that’s okay. Believe me, we’ll do everything we can to help you, understand?”

The woman watched Simon with sad eyes.

“Here.” Simon gave the best smile she could. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

“No.” The woman shook her head. “I don’t think I can.”

Simon felt her brow twitch. “W-well alright then! Is there anything else you want to talk about? Your dream?”

The woman’s brow furrowed, before a small smile flickered over her face. “I dreamed I was a butterfly.” The words felt like a quote. “Now, when I’ve awoken, I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.”

“Um.”

“It makes sense,” the woman said, “because it has butterflies.”

“I’m… sure it does.” Simon scratched the back of her head, briefly noting down butterflies on the piece of paper.

But now that the words started coming they seemed to spill over each other. “It’s so obvious that I’m dreaming, right now.” She sighed. “I don’t even… really sound like her, do I? But sometimes bits and pieces come through, and for a second it parses like someone else, even to me. If I just closed my eyes hard enough, maybe I could even fool myself. I’ve… learned a great deal about self-delusions.” Her smile grew wan. “Learned from the best, even.”

“Oh?” Simon leaned forward, trying to keep track. “So, if you’re not her, who are you?”

“I could be her.” The woman’s voice was soft. “I’m not sure if you would like me, would like us very much.” She quirked her lip as her voice patterns continued to grow more normal, slipping from that blank tone into something that had Simon leaning forward to pay attention. “Most people didn’t. It didn’t matter, maybe still doesn’t. The only thing that matters is—”

She paused, hand going back to her brow.

“No, he’s… dead.”

Simon paused, moving slightly backwards in her chair. Suddenly she was pretty damn glad that there was a soldier waiting right around the corner.

And also that he’d back her up to Commander Scott when she had to go over this conversation later.

“Who’s dead?”

The woman paused, fingers tensing on her forehead. “Dr. Simon.” Simon jolted slightly, not remembering that she’d given the other woman her name. “Were there any bright flashes of golden light when I showed up here?”

“Nothing.” Simon shook her head before leaning forward. “But you could shed some more light on that, if you wanted.”

“Didn’t I already tell you?” The woman’s lips quirked up into a smile. “I got here through a door.”

Simon grumbled. “You’re acting a bit different from a minute ago.”

The woman winced, before giving a tenuous smile. “Right now, I’m dreaming I’m a butterfly.” She gave a hollow laugh. “It’s easier.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said it was obvious that you were dreaming?”

“Is it?” The woman slowly lowered her hand back down to the bed, half slumping over. “I think, therefore I am, right?”

“Cogito, Ergo Sum?” Simon tilted her head. “Simulation theory—the real version and the pop culture one—were both disproven years ago, you know.”

“How about many worlds?”

Simon blinked, then the woman hissed again, pressing her hand to her head. “Ah… my head hurts. Why does it hurt?”

Simon glanced over at the EEG, it still read no activity.

“I guess we were just… cheating the whole time, huh? Poor… Negotiator.”

The woman slumped back onto the bed, affect going flat as she took heaving breaths.

Simon leaned forward again. Suddenly, the woman on the bed seemed so much smaller, devoid of the almost manic energy she’d shown just a moment before. The woman’s eyes tracked up to the ceiling, darting back and forth like she was watching meteors streak through the night sky.

Simon said nothing for a long moment. “…I don’t want to ask another question, but.”

“It is your job, isn’t it?”

The woman’s voice had taken on a weird sort of half-tone, lingering on the boundary from her earlier robotic listlessness and frantic energy.

Simon gave an embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of her head. “Sorry, I usually don’t interview people.”

“She didn’t seem to mind.”

Simon blinked. “Hmm?”

The woman flicked her eyes towards the door. “The white one. She didn’t seem to mind.”

“Oh—Ada?” Simon gave another nervous laugh, pressing a hand to her chest. “She’s an angel, of course she doesn’t mind.”

“Hmmm.” The woman didn’t offer anything else, seemingly content to stare off into the distance as whatever burst of motivation from earlier left her. She seemed to be struggling with something, whether or not she was dreaming, presumably.

Now Simon was really wishing she’d watched Inception, but Leonardo DiCaprio wasn’t exactly on her team, so to speak.

“Why don’t we start with your name?” she ventured.

The woman on the bed gave a chuckle. “That’s the hardest question of all.”

Simon hummed, shifting in her chair. God, it felt like she’d been in this conversation for hours already. Yet she couldn’t find it in herself to get up and walk away. “Why is that?” she asked instead.

“I told you, didn’t I? I’m dreaming that I’m a butterfly. Or else I’m a—”

“Butterfly dreaming of being something else?” Simon nodded. “You mentioned.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t suppose I can convince you that this is reality, or anything like that.”

“Oh, doctor, of course this is real.” The woman’s smile grew sharper. “I’m just not sure if I am.”

“And who would you be, if not yourself?”

“Someone else, ostensibly.”

Simon huffed. “If you just wanted to be deliberately obtuse, you could have just said so.”

“Sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry. “I’m not a good person.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Neither of you are?”

The woman jolted on the bed.

Simon sighed, shaking her head. “Sorry, but it’s not hard to put together that much. We do have therapists on hand, if…”

The woman stared at her for a long second, half sitting up, before slumping back down to the bed. “And you said I was being deliberately obtuse.”

“Well, maybe I’m just pretty smart then, huh?” Simon crossed her arms.

The woman laughed, a bit of energy returning to you. “Lisa would have hated you.”

“Lisa?” Simon blinked. Every time the woman opened her mouth she offered up another thread that went off into nowhere. Simon was starting to wonder if it was on purpose.

“You asked if either of us were good people,” the woman said instead of answering the question. Simon bit her lip to hold back a sigh. “I have another question for you, though. Before I can answer that.”

“…Oh?”

“You might not like it, though. I was… am trying to be more sensitive about that kind of thing. Sorry, I don’t parse other people’s emotions very well at the best of times. I was told it was my biggest flaw by someone very dear to me.”

Simon tilted her head. “This Lisa of yours?”

The woman nodded. “And Negotiator.” She sighed, eyes going distant. “Ciara had the most beautiful names for us, you know?”

“I don’t,” Simon said. “But why don’t you ask your question? I promise you can’t make me any more frustrated than I already am.”

The woman turned to look at her. “Is your Ada a person?”

“What?” The reply came before she could stop to think about it. “Of course she is!”

“Well.” The woman smiled. “I guess by that standard, neither of us is a very good person, then.”

“I take it back.” Simon folded her arms. “You definitely can make me more frustrated.” She sighed. “And you still haven’t given me a name. Do you know how annoying it’s going to be to fill out all of your observations under the name ‘Jane Doe’?”

The woman hummed. “Oh, right, a name.” She shrugged, hand coming up to trace the burn scars covering her right arm. “Well, given what we’ve discussed, I guess you’d better call me… Khepri.”

There was a pause, as if the world had stopped to hold its breath at the pronouncement.

Simon clicked her pen. “How d’you spell it?”