THE CONSTRUCT: In The End

PART NINE

Inside the train station office build, the future most certainly does appear to have come. Numerous large LED screens litter the walls and also hang from the ceiling each portraying some sort of advert seemingly specifically tailored to each individual who enters this space. Had Nigel and his team secured advertising to supplement further funding or is it a feature they had been contemplating while working on Creating this construct? He cannot know for sure though he does find it all seriously impressive. Again, the number three is prevalent.

If it weren't for the memory loss and interference going on, then this all could seriously be one heck of a thing. It is one heck of a thing, it's just somewhat unfortunate that Nigel himself can't just sit back and take it all in, enjoy the experience of it all. And with all that is, he cannot even know if he, or Josh for that matter can ever make it out again.

And if they do get out, then what then?

There is a grand piano in a central position in this building, and it currently is being played. He had heard the chimes of a piano back on the train, so long ago he had forgotten only to remember now because of the existence of a piano here. At that too, he had not seen any piano on the train at all. He had presumed in had been in another carriage at the time he heard it and it was not being piped through the carriage he had been in at the time as a sound system would not have fit within such a surrounding if a time period was being adhered to.

He wonders, fleetingly, whether the music itself is a clue ... as the blind man too might be ... something coded into this place, a memory trigger perhaps, or simply an eerie coincidence meant to unsettle. The melody weaves through the space, familiar and yet frustratingly out of reach in his recollection, as if it is meant to tether him to something he cannot quite grasp. The sense of déjà vu lingers, sharpening his awareness of just how much has been lost or obscured since arriving here.

The many screens on the go here too, are there clue hidden within? It all almost is a kind of information overload, way too difficult to decipher. Everything going on in this place, it is almost enough to create a kind of meltdown who may experience it all for a first time. Of course, too, the construct had not been fully completed. The program itself, if there is a program running, may be filling in missing bits and pieces, and such could come from anywhere if the program itself is online.

Josh too does find wonder in it all too though is seemingly handling it much better than what Nigel is. Noticing how agitated and enamoured Nigel has become, Josh takes Nigel by the arm and leads him on. There is no time to stop and gape at the many wonders here. The two men must proceed but proceed to where ... is in itself another issue. Just keep swimming, isn't that how one mantra in particular goes?

For a brief moment, Nigel hesitates at the edge of the main hall, his eyes tracing the intricate mosaics beneath his feet ... patterns that seem to shift and ripple just at the edge of his vision. He shakes his head, unsure if the illusion is a trick of the light or a quirk of the simulated environment, but the sensation leaves him feeling even less anchored to reality than before. The air is tinged with a faint metallic scent, reminiscent of old train tracks warming in the sun, blending seamlessly with the distant notes of the piano and the soft hum of the screens overhead.

15.

Steve ... sometimes known as Stephen or Stevie in the real world ... Wilks is the quiet barman within the construct, his presence both unremarkable and oddly reassuring amid the strangeness. He moves with an ease that suggests familiarity, serving drinks and lending a listening ear to those who seek comfort at the bar, yet never offering more of himself than necessary, known for sure by Josh and suspected by Nigel, to be part of the creation team in the real-world environment.

In the real world, however, Steve's identity is far less certain. The fragments Nigel recalls hint that Steve might have been a colleague or perhaps a confidant, someone on the periphery of their project or social circle, whose own memories are equally subject to distortion or erasure in this place ... someone who could provide a perspective of behaviour and interaction, something essential in the building of a world imagined.

The line between construct and reality blurs, leaving Nigel ... and perhaps even Steve himself ... questioning whether the barman is merely a role, a programmed facet of the environment, or a shadow of the man he once was beyond these digital walls.

The worry is that death within the construct means death in the real world ... though Una Ryan was dead in the construct before circumstances changed, seeing her return and then vanish in a glitch like error is something worrying in its own right. Nigel doesn't do glitches though, does he? As if he would actually know for sure, which he cannot ... and Steve was left motionless upon the train looking, for all intents and purposes, as dead as a doornail moving in and out of ... somewhere.

Now, are two members of the virtual creation team dead, or do they still exist alive and well out in the real world? One perhaps one or the other may or may not be gone within the real world. And if they both do still exist, alive and well in the real world, is there anything more they can do to affect what happens in the virtual world?

***

The drinks element, or bar tending element, of Steves persona is derived from a business venture set out upon some thirty years before Steve ever came aboard any kind of creating team. His parents went into business for themselves, taking a bit of a chance, a bit of a risk having a mortgage and a young son. It didn't make them wealthy though business was good enough to see them through until ... well.

The premises passed onto Steve. He could have sold it and attempt to move forward with his own life but just couldn't. Mum and dad had put their hearts and soul into it, and many hours to boot, so to abandon it would be like abandoning them to a degree, so he stuck with it and tended bar himself instead of just sitting pretty and reaping the profits, which were decent without bring in life changing sums of money.

Steve's bar, a modest establishment tucked away on a backstreet somewhere unremarkable, was the sort of place where regulars would gather nightly for quiet conversation and the comfort of routine, a lot of whom were such before misfortune came, themselves sticking with the place out of loyalty and any benefits ... like free drinks at Christmas time and the likes.

The place wasn't known for glamour or excess, but for the steady presence of Steve behind the counter, mixing drinks and remembering orders not because he had to, but because he cared enough to do so. These formative years, filled with the ebb and flow of ordinary lives, shaped the manner in which Steve now tends to the needs of those within the construct ... offering solace, a small dose of familiarity, and the suggestion that even here, in a world so wrought with uncertainty, some rituals remain unchanged.

This came about through a regular of sorts. Or someone who would become somewhat of a regular. ... A stranger walked in on a quiet midweek day and sat at the bar. Steve was quick to greet this fellow, who didn't appear all too happy, in fact it appeared as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulder.

'What'll it be?' Steve asked with restraint, if this fellow before him wanted to spill beans, well, he may just do it in his own time.

'Whiskey, neat please ...'

'Sure thing ...' and as quick as you like, the drink was delivered with a top-of-the-line doyly to boot and not the run of the mill beer mat. 'First one is on the house for new customers.'

This lifted the stranger no end. Such a small gesture though one that lifted spirits ... pun intended ... right away, even inducing a smile in return. And the stranger did spill his beans, a little at a time, and Steve passed no judgement, he just lent a friendly ear which in itself was precisely what was needed. There is something about unloading without judgement or receiving unsolicited advice. Just putting things out there can often be enough. There are things that many people may tell a barman or hairdresser that they may not even speak out aloud in their own company.

Safe to say this new customer came back, not just once or twice but many times until such time it could be said that he belonged to the place, also asking for whiskey, never any kind of beer or other alternative. And then one day this ... no longer a ... stranger came with an offer for the man behind the bar.

'How would you like to do something a little ... different?' he allowed that question to sit a moment before continuing. 'You wouldn't have to up and end here ... just come and participate in something a little unusual and off the beaten track ...'

Safe to say Steve Wilks was intrigued. And that customer of his ... well that so happened to be a certain fellow by the name Josh Remond.