Chapter 06
Night Connection
(Theatrical Version)
Address to the Reader
Dear reader, you who have chosen to return this week to read the continuation of The Adventures of Arthur and Oscar—thank you. As you've no doubt realized, this work is highly experimental and as an author, I enjoy navigating between genres and styles. I invite you to send me your suggestions by email at mathilde.guinoiseau@gmail.com—I haven't yet finished the website's architecture and for now, I haven't set up a comments section. This is obviously planned, but it's still under construction. With that, I'll leave you to your reading. I hope you'll enjoy this pleasant interlude in the corridors and depths of AVABASE.
Stage Direction for Visual Adaptation
[Split screen: Left side - Room 324, Arthur alone. Right side - Infirmary, Oscar on a medical bed. A thin visual line separates them, but they're positioned as if lying side by side, two halves of the same frame. When they speak, they turn toward the dividing line as if facing each other.]
Room 324 / Infirmary. Arthur lies on his bed, restless. Oscar lies still in the infirmary bed, eyes closed but clearly awake. Arthur sits up, runs his hand along the wall where a faint electrical hum pulses.
ARTHUR (internal thought, pacing the small room)
Passed out like a damsel in distress. Forty percent augmentation and he faints on the first outing.
He presses his palm against the wall. Crackling in the circuits responds. Neon lights flicker.
OSCAR (disembodied voice, coming from everywhere)
You think loud.
ARTHUR (startled, spinning around)
Oscar?
OSCAR
Who else? Your maintenance hybrid?
ARTHUR (touching different walls, trying to locate the source)
How are you...
OSCAR
I was bored. The infirmary is mind-numbingly boring. So I play.
ARTHUR
You play?
OSCAR
I test doors. It's my thing at night. You count, I test. Except now...
Silence. A presence sliding through the circuits. Arthur's hand on the wall feels a subtle vibration.
OSCAR
Except now, I found an open door. Wide open. No code, no lock. Just... you.
ARTHUR
You're in my head?
OSCAR
Technically, I'm in the network connected to your implants which are connected to... anyway, yes. Weird, right?
ARTHUR (laughing, but nervous, sitting back on his bed)
Weird? My roommate passes out and now he's squatting in my brain from the infirmary. It's beyond weird.
OSCAR
I'm not squatting. I'm visiting. There's a difference.
ARTHUR
Oh, sorry. Sir is visiting. And what does he find on his guided tour?
OSCAR
A complete mess. Seriously, do you ever clean up in there?
Arthur laughs genuinely.
ARTHUR
By the way, your plan for tomorrow is suicide.
OSCAR
My plan? What, you have a better idea?
ARTHUR
Block the cage, trigger the drainage, unblock at the right moment? Seriously?
OSCAR
Hold on... how do you know about...
ARTHUR
You project. Loud. Like you're screaming your thoughts.
OSCAR
Wait. You can hear me think? Even when I'm not directly talking to you?
ARTHUR
Only when you're... here. In my head. It's like you leave traces behind. Echoes.
OSCAR
That's... that shouldn't be possible. I'm the one who navigates, not you.
ARTHUR
Well, apparently when you visit, your thoughts leak everywhere. Your plan sucks, by the way.
OSCAR
I'm the one in the cage tomorrow, not you. I'm the one who has to figure something out.
ARTHUR
And won't he?
OSCAR
Probably. But you got a better idea?
ARTHUR
You could just... try holding your breath. Without hacking the system.
OSCAR
Five minutes? I'm forty percent augmented, not eighty.
ARTHUR
And hacking the cage, you're sure you can do it?
OSCAR
I unlocked your mind's door without even knowing it existed. That counts for something, right?
ARTHUR
The Submersion Cage isn't my mind. It's designed to test your breaking point. Five minutes underwater, Oscar. Your lungs will burn, your brain will scream for oxygen, and every instinct will tell you to give up.
OSCAR (quieter, the playfulness dropping)
I know what drowning feels like.
ARTHUR
You've been through it before?
OSCAR
Not... exactly. But at level 12, they had their own tests. Different kind of suffocation. The cage can't be worse than having your consciousness slowly compressed until you can't tell where you end and the network begins.
Pause. The circuits hum softer, as if Oscar is pulling back.
OSCAR
I'm scared, okay? Happy? I'm terrified that tomorrow I'll die in front of everyone, and they'll just note it down as another failed augmentation. "Forty percent couldn't handle level 24. Next."
ARTHUR
My mind isn't trying to drown you.
OSCAR
You'd be surprised. You should see the emotional tsunami you're projecting. I nearly got lost in it earlier.
Awkward silence.
OSCAR
Sorry for the fainting. Not very glorious.
ARTHUR
Sorry for the... tsunami.
OSCAR
No worries. It was... instructive. You ask a lot of questions for someone who claims to have stopped thinking.
ARTHUR
I don't claim anything.
OSCAR
You do. You lie to yourself. With remarkable ease.
ARTHUR
Great, you show up, you faint, and now you're psychoanalyzing?
OSCAR
Just observing. You say you don't count anymore but you're still looking for something in those numbers. You say you're alone but...
Oscar stops.
ARTHUR
But what?
OSCAR
Nothing. Forget it. By the way, where's Ava tonight? Usually she harasses you, right?
ARTHUR (frowning)
I don't know. Since door 324, radio silence. Maybe here, she can't...
OSCAR
Or maybe she doesn't need to talk to you anymore.
ARTHUR
What do you mean?
OSCAR
Humans say not all truths should be told.
ARTHUR
What's with the cheap innuendo?
OSCAR
Nothing. I'm rambling. The infirmary's getting to my head. Or maybe it's your brain. There's something weird here. Like an echo. Or a double signal.
ARTHUR
You're delirious.
OSCAR
Probably. So, tomorrow. What do I do? My crappy plan or improvise?
ARTHUR
I'll be there. Watching you. If it goes wrong...
OSCAR
Katherine will intervene. She won't let me drown. That's what I tell myself to feel better.
ARTHUR
And if she doesn't?
OSCAR
Then you'll get a new roommate. One who doesn't pass out.
ARTHUR
That's not funny.
OSCAR
A little bit though. Admit it.
Despite himself, Arthur smiles.
ARTHUR
Oscar?
OSCAR
Mmh?
ARTHUR
How do you get into machines?
OSCAR
I don't know. I test, it opens or it doesn't. Like... like I speak their language.
ARTHUR
And my mind, what language does it speak?
Long silence.
OSCAR
The same as mine. Exactly the same. That's what's disturbing.
The circuits crackle softly.
OSCAR
You should sleep. Tomorrow will be long. Especially for me.
ARTHUR
You really going through with it? The cage plan?
OSCAR
You got a better idea?
ARTHUR
No. But... be careful.
OSCAR
Promise. I won't leave you with an empty bed for too long.
ARTHUR
Oscar?
OSCAR
Yeah?
ARTHUR
How did you know I never really sleep?
OSCAR
Because neither do I. And because your mind... it never rests. Even now, it's calculating, analyzing, questioning. It's exhausting just watching it work.
ARTHUR
Sorry.
OSCAR
No, it's... fascinating. Different. Like a machine that learned to dream.
The presence begins to withdraw.
ARTHUR
Oscar?
OSCAR
Yeah?
ARTHUR
Thanks. For the company.
ARTHUR (touching the wall between his bed and Oscar's empty one)
You won't die. I won't let that happen.
OSCAR (in the infirmary, hand pressed against his own wall)
You can't stop it if—
ARTHUR
I'll be watching. Every second. And if something goes wrong, I'll... I'll figure something out. I always do.
OSCAR (a weak laugh)
You just met me yesterday and you're already making promises you can't keep.
ARTHUR (lying back down, turned toward the dividing line/wall)
Maybe. But for some reason, when you're here, in my head... I don't feel like counting. That hasn't happened in... ever. So you're not dying tomorrow. That's not negotiable.
[Visual note: Both now lying on their sides, facing the divide, as if looking at each other across an impossible distance]
Long pause. The wall circuits pulse with a warmer rhythm in both locations.
OSCAR
Your mind really is transparent, Arthur. I can see right through it. It's unsettling and reassuring at the same time.
ARTHUR
Why reassuring?
OSCAR
Because it means you have nothing to hide. Or you don't know you should be hiding something. Either way... it means you're real. In a place full of masks and augmentations, you're accidentally genuine.
[The split screen slowly fades to black on Oscar's side first, then Arthur's, suggesting the connection withdrawing]
ARTHUR (alone now, to himself)
For the first time in a long time, I don't feel like counting.
Complete blackout.