Rubber Band - The HemiHelix Effect Ep 1

Chapter 10

Lukas knows he’s caught a cold before he has even fully woken up. The pain in his head is intolerable and he is frozen to the bone. For some reason the heating mustn't have come on. For some reason he is submerged in a tub full of cold water. He panics momentarily at its colour, then realises that he’s knocked the wine glass over and broken it in the process. He swears, lifts himself out of the tub, careful not to step into any shards that must be somewhere at the bottom of the bath. Steadying himself against the wall he is overcome by nausea, a struggle he already knows he will lose; he rushes to the toilet, kneels down in front of it and throws up violently. With difficult he gets up, his weakness alarming and shakily picks up the half-empty Rioja bottle off the floor. He eyes it suspiciously, empties it into the bathtub and pulls the plug. His stomach still heaving he puts on his dressing gown, switches on the heating, walks downstairs and pours himself another pint of water, which he takes to bed. It's half seven and too early to stay up, especially in his condition. He drinks half the water and wraps himself in his duvet, trying to warm up.

He wakes four hours later, still hung over, but now sweating heavily. Despite the sickness he feels elated; his dreams have been surreal but uplifting, like a parallel universe full of unknown possibilities opening up alongside reality. He now remembers the nightly visit; he must be feverish, must have been hallucinating. Nevertheless, the visit followed his first important progress along his new path. He had used the book, had written in it extensively. Though he hadn't invited him directly, his Guardian Angel had appeared to him when he’d nodded off in the bathtub. Even now, Lukas still feels his presence. He touches his forehead, he’s probably running a temperature. If it takes a bit of a fever to put him more in touch with what will make him a better person, so be it.

He gets up mid-afternoon, feeling better. Though still slightly queasy he is hungry, realises he hasn't eaten in over twenty-four hours. He picks up his own and Tibor’s book, puts on his coat and walks round the corner to the Globe.

“I was as sick as a dog, Vladi. I've never known anything like it.”

“What, after half a bottle of wine? I think you've got a virus, just don't you give it to me!” Vladi slaps him on the back. “Did you say you were seeing ghosts?”

Lukas now feels foolish for sharing some of his experience with his friend. He nods. “Yes, I was. I was seeing and hearing things.” He decides not to divulge the fact that he thinks he's seen an angel. As it happens the whole episode now seems implausible to him. Yet he is eager to look over his writings and also have a closer look at Tibor’s book.

“It's probably one of those twenty-four hour things.” Vladi says, vaguely. “By the way, did I tell you I scored the other day?”

Lukas squints. “You scored? With who?” The thought of Vladi in the act of lovemaking with another human being makes him feel quite sick again in an instant.

“This bird I met at the casino. Right goer, she was. She even...”

As Vladi blathers on Lukas thinks back to his own night of passion with Eda, feeling a painful pang in his chest as his memory of their love-making floods back. No point telling Vlad, he’d just take the piss, especially now, that it's all gone pear shaped. 

It's her voice that’s with him now, her sing-song in the session, just before she touched him. And then he remembers. The Guardian’s singing had reminded him of Eda’s, though at the time he hadn't been able to put his finger on it. He had been delirious.

“Have you ever heard anyone speaking in tongues?” He interrupts Vladi.

“Tongues? Are you turning religious? This bird I was with did amazing things with hers.”

Lukas rolls his eyes, decides not to comment. “Seriously, have you ever heard it?”

“No, I haven't.” Vladi cackles. “I've heard off it though. Bloody nonsense.”

“Hm, probably.” Lukas finishes his pint of water and orders a Jaegermeister.

“Listen, mate, I'm going to have to leave you while I can still drive. I'm going back to the casino tonight, but want to drop the car off before.” Vladi slaps Lukas’s back. “Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”

“The world’s my lobster, then.” Lukas grins and slaps Vladi back.

His writing now looks infantile to him. Like a bored doodle while waiting in a telephone cue. A seemingly unconnected string of adjectives. For some reason he had overwritten some of them, as if to make them stand out. And he had bracketed, connected some of the words. Lukas frowns. What had he been thinking? The fever must have come on during the walk, he remembers getting very wet. He turns the page, then hesitates. There is a gap at the centre of the book. The pages seem to have been folded over. Each corner is turned inwards, like in the origami game ’fortune teller’, but since the pages are rectangular, not square, the folded over corners don't meet in the centre. The resulting corners have been folded in once more, and finally each corner section has been turned to the middle, making the centre pages into a hexagon shape. Two squares are still visible of the front of the pages. Two words have been written into the boxes: ’Himmel’ in the top and ’Hölle’ in the bottom box.

Lukas breaks out into a cold sweat. ’Himmel und Hölle’, ’Heaven and Hell’. The German name of the origami game ’fortune teller’. Him and Markus used to play it when they were little. The game that told Markus bad luck. Now Markus is dead.

The folded corners form the letter ’X’ in the very centre of the book. Visible above and below are the letters ’A’ and ’E’, from the two sentences that had been the only occupants of the centre pages, when Lukas last looked. He must have done this last night in his delirium, but he’ll be damned if he can remember.

He turns his attention to the folded sections. Each flap has writing on it. ’He’ and ’I’ on the top two flaps, ’The’ and ’Mud’ on the bottom two. It is the right and left sections that freak Lukas out. The words here seem like an order for him, personally. ’Morph’ and ’Pole’, or: “Morph, Pole!”

He laughs nervously as shivers run down his spine. This he could have indeed written himself, in a strop with himself, but he doesn't remember. The Jaegermeister he ordered ages ago sits untouched in front of him. He necks it, orders another and a pint of lager and asks for whatever the special is tonight.

Next, he orders the adjectives he has enhanced and grouped last night. Positives, mainly. ’Lovely’, ’beautiful’, ’caring’. ’Special’. ’Loving’, adorable’, ’caring’, ’good-natured’. Groups of three, one, four, one, five words. The number Pi, in other words. Lukas breathes out heavily, tries to concentrate. He was going to research the connection between the fibonacci sequence and the number Pi. When his meal arrives he pushes the food around the plate, eats absentmindedly as he tries to make sense of his book’s centre pages and the random words written around the edges.