The Melted World (Worlds of Creators Book 1) Read online

  “Come to the beach with me. Let’s get out of this madness,” she whispered to him.

  “I wish I could, I really do. We’ve got to help him, though. Look at him. So lost. And what’s so important about going to this beach, anyway?” he whispered back.

  “Our friends are there. Maggie called me when you were away, and she said there’s music, good food, and it’s all free. It’s like people decided to enjoy for one day what they couldn’t do during all their lives!”

  “Ouch, that sounds messy. Aren’t you scared about getting hurt or something? People are going to fight, many will try to abuse others. Stay with us, please, it’s safe in here,” Colin said.

  “You’ll be with me. I’ll help you feel safe and comfortable in there, and you’ll help me back, trust me. We just have to get out of here.”

  “And leave Mr. Alden alone?”

  “I don’t care. Nobody is telling him to work today.” Angeline shrugged, grimacing at her boss.

  “We have a job to do, you know that? We can’t let go of responsibility only because people are losing their minds over some silly speculations.”

  She breathed heavily and turned her face back to her screen, shaking her head. The mouse cursor remained still, frozen by her hand. She looked at the door, admiring the way out for a few seconds.

  “If I go, will you be angry at me?” She looked behind Colin, afraid to leave him in the company of their maddened boss.

  “Angry, why ... No, of course not. I wish you could stay, that’s all, but you’re free to do as you please. For my part, I can’t let go of Mr. Alden, I just can’t. I was hired to help him, and if I don’t do that, what’s left for me? It’s a big responsibility, and I take it seriously, you know that.”

  Angeline admired Colin’s brown face, his calm, acute eyebrows, like arrows pointed up. He kept his face turned at her, compressing his lips, half closing his eyes, not minding his dilated nostrils. Filled with expectation, he hoped for a change of heart, for a decision to stay with him. The only sacrifice Colin accepted implied work, and friendship and love required someone to rescue him. Only a rescuer would succeed in taking him out of his ineptitude. Angeline gave him a quirky smile and nodded at the computer screen.

  At lunch time, Mr. Alden busied himself too much at his design tasks to care about hunger. Colin picked up the company’s phone and called the restaurant to order them some food. At first, the phone rang nonstop without any answer. He tried again, and when the person on the other side said hello, she laughed.

  “Really, you want some food?”

  “I do, please. We have an account with you already, it’s in Mr. Alden’s name, Steve Alden. Two executive plates and one ... wait, let me check here with my boss—”

  “Calm down, son. I’m a mind reader today, no need telling me anything. I know everything! In fact, I’ll materialize your orders in your office right now, hang in there. With all this apocalypse stuff going on, I’ve got new powers. Pluft! Is it there?”

  “I’m sorry, ma'am. Could you be a little more polite, please? I’m just trying to order some food. You don’t have to treat me like an idiot.”

  “But the food is already there! Just wait and see!”

  The person hung up the phone, to Colin’s dismay. Angeline followed his call with a hand on her mouth, as shocked as he was to watch the world going crazy under the prospect of rapture. Outside, the sky burned in colored flames, reaching pockets of new gases at every explosion. Colin stood up and went to the window. His heart chilled with the thought of an uncontrollable world, out of order in every way. He turned around to face Angeline, while she walked towards him.

  “We need to stay close to our loved ones today. You see, everybody is using this chance to laugh at the world.”

  “But someone has to stay and defend sanity. We can’t let madness win,” Colin said.

  “It’s not just madness. People are frustrated, I think, and many don’t know what to do with it. Some are sad after spending a life without doing what they wanted, some are laughing at themselves. Will you tell me you don’t have anything you’d be frustrated about if the world was really to end now?”

  “Well, hm, who doesn’t? The difference is that I try to accept the past. Things could be different, yes, they could, but does different mean better? I did what I could, and what’s gone, is gone, there’s no getting back. If the world ends, I die a happy man,” Colin said.

  “Really? There’s nothing in the world that you’d like to do before we all die?” Angeline placed her right hand on Colin’s shoulder, her gentle fingers landing softly on his t-shirt.

  “I ... I’d like to finish this job ... and help Mr. Alden.” Colin turned his face away from her stare, evading her insistence, blushing with her touch, feeling a fool for wondering if she was honest with that, if she liked him as much as he liked her.

  “Wouldn’t you rather go with me to the beach? Please, Colin.”

  “I ... I would ... If only he ... If only Mr. Alden went with us too, if he allowed us to go ... I don’t know. Sorry ... I can’t leave him, he needs help. We can't do this to people ...”

  Angeline nodded, disappointed. She furrowed her thick eyebrows and touched her black hair bun to let wavy strands fall to her neck. She picked up her purse from the table.

  Looking at her boss, who paid no attention to his surroundings, clicking non-stop at the geometrical shapes in the screen, she said,

  “I’m sorry, guys, I’m leaving. I’ll be back tomorrow, if things change. Bye, Mr. Alden, bye, Colin. Take care.”

  As she went through the office main door, Colin took two steps in her direction, unable to deal with her departure. He kept himself mute, because if he said anything, his voice would sound too acute and desperate. He defended the world alone, resisting the burden of giants, and how he wished that Angeline had stayed there to help him.

  ∙ 2 ∙ Meltdown

  Mr. Alden and Colin ate chocolate and commented on their designs in preschool terminology. They spent an afternoon in playtime, the office turned into kindergarten, overflowing with duty and irreverence. The list of Zaran pieces stretched for dozens of items, many of which required much more than a half hour crash course with Angeline. As they labored on their own and neither knew much about the software, they agreed to compromise quality in favor of efficiency.

  “We’ll say that everything is in the one big file we’ll send them. Whatever they can’t find, we’ll pretend it was an accident and tell them we’re sending the missing ones in the next batch. We’ll do this repeatedly, until one of our designers gets back,” Mr. Alden said.

  “It could work. That is a brilliant tactic.” Colin smiled by his side.

  “Or maybe I should just try to hire an intern right now, what do you say? He can start this moment!”

  “It’s almost the end of day, sir. I’m afraid we’ll have to wait.” Colin looked at him and giggled.

  “You think so? We can walk down the street asking for a junior designer, we’ll pay in cash, just for a few hours. I’m sure we can find one. How hard can it be to get a geek who likes to play with these graphics programs? Today, everyone does it.”

  “Mr. Alden, don’t despair. The world is not going to end, ok? If we don’t deliver this job today, I’m sure they’ll give us another chance.”

  “They will, won’t they? They’re good people! I have a sense for good people, no wonder you’re with me.”

  Thirsty, Colin left his chair to get a glass of water. He took the last drops from the water jar, then spun the faucet to get some more. A thin line of liquid flowed from its round hole, filling not even half of the glass, slow enough to trigger a chill in Colin's spine. Shortage of water, of food, people saying goodbye to the world outside, how would he keep on working in the office?

  Were it not for the chocolate, he’d be too weak to keep up his good humor. His boss opened up his forbidden drawer to both of them, revealing a wealth of snacks that eased Colin's tension for the moment. Mr. Alde
n was a great boss, he thought, tearing the edge of a packet of nougat.

  Ripping through the smoke clouds in the sky, a very intense blue light descended from space, hurting Colin's eyes. He pressed his eyelids tight, chewing the candy's peanuts. He turned around to regain control over his vision, seeking the room's comforting dimness.

  To face the horizon, he put a hand in front of his face, protecting himself from the intense shine. Behind the buildings downtown, in the direction of the sea, a glowing pillar of light rose high above the lower and upper cloud layers, fading at the edge of outer space. It moved slowly to the side, against a backdrop of red, burning skies.

  It could be a new weapon, either human or alien. It could be the second sign of the definite end, it could be a new kind of aurora. Whatever it was, it had a voice, and it echoed over the entire universe.

  “Who did this to me? Who’s getting away with it? Why am I so alone? Don’t hide! I’ll find you!”

  The voice forced a recollection of nightmares, loud like thunder, desperate like a monster. Colin looked down out of the window, staring at the street. People ran in horror at the Voice that struck their minds and brought misery to their fragile existence. Mr. Alden, sitting opposite the window, guided his mouse all over the screen to fix vertices and type texts. His fixed gaze kept him designing in peace, unaware of the apparition beyond the city.

  “Mr. Alden? Did you ... did you see that?” Colin pointed outside, his finger trembling in fear.

  The boss kept his pace, focused on the computer. The Voice spoke again, its thundering impact rippling Colin's chest, his t-shirt, his toenails, the ground he stepped on, the windows. Mr. Alden froze in place, stretching all the fingers in his hands under the stare of his widened eyes. As Colin approached him, tense with the silence of his boss' inactive mouse, Mr. Alden lowered his head, relaxing.

  “Why am I so alone?” the Voice said, and one couldn’t tell whether it came from outside or from Colin’s own mind.

  Mr. Alden banged his head on the keyboard. He hit it hard a few times, breaking one key and jamming many others. Colin held him by the shoulders, trying to pull him up, moving the keyboard away. The man drove his forehead with strength against the wooden table, dragging his helpless employee along.

  “Everybody is gone ... I’m worthless ... my life is hell ... what am I doing here ... so alone,” Mr. Alden mumbled, looking at some indefinite point on his computer screen.

  The Zaran check-list didn't matter anymore, now that the office reached the point of complete dissolution. And yet, how could the planet be saved if not by the protection of its most respectful institutions? Colin went to his boss’ room to look at his e-mails, searching for the client’s phone number. He found it and called them. It rang and rang. In the end, the beeps turned into silence.

  Through the opened door, Mr. Alden muttered new words that vibrated in the vacant space, taking possession of every single atom.

  “Somebody save me, please ... My life is so miserable ...”

  Colin wrote a message to Zaran, explaining to them the reasons for the office’s incapacity to fulfill their order. In brief, he said they were sorry, but the day was chaotic everywhere and he hoped they would understand. With the e-mail sent, work ended for him.

  The dark room, colored red on the mid tones, blue on the highlights, saddened him. He sat at the boss’ chair, while the boss himself banged his head on the table in the designer’s room. Would Angeline be safe at the beach? Would she help him deal with the loneliness at work?

  “There’s no point in living ... Why did you do this to me?” Colin thought, mirroring the Voice.

  Mr. Alden shook between catatonic spasms, throwing his arms and legs around the chair, hitting the table, and toppling the monitor. He jerked his limbs on the wood, on the floor, their impacts made loud bangs and scared Colin with their violence. A man turned into a mixer, spit flying at every twist, lips babbling with demented moans, a sick man striking at the world around, everything declared enemy at once. A rag doll inside a tornado, the boss contorting his body, his bald head swinging front and back, ready to break its own bones.

  “I am so alone in here ... nobody loves me ... nobody ever wanted me ...”

  Colin let a tear flow over his cheek, watching his own convictions die in front of him. He should call an ambulance, he should wait for help. But the telephone solved nothing, it only brought enemies, people laughing at him, unwilling to help, all waiting for the end of things.

  “I’m the worst ... everybody hates me ... that’s why I’m so alone.”

  He opened the window to see if the Voice came from outside, as it spoke so clearly inside his own mind that he couldn’t believe he thought what he did. In the horizon, the glowing pillar of blue light grew wider than earlier, rising above the sky with the might of a colossal space elevator.

  Wind swept fallen pieces of paper on the street below, wild gusts of thin air, violent and weak, the last blows of a dying Earth. Dark splotches of something sticky flowed under the doors, a slimy soup of flesh and bones, or was it something else, something less terrible?

  “The worst ... the worst of all, the one who can’t be loved ...”

  To jump from the building, he thought, could save him. At the edge of the apocalypse, what awaited him down in the abyss steamed with freedom, the welcoming dust of dissipation, his mind gone by the power of his will. The street beckoned him with a friendly picture. Colin opened the window, placing half of his torso outside.

  He felt so heavy and sad that his fall would happen in a second. The voice convinced him to give up existence, to embrace his self-destruction. Suicide answered that anguish, it offered an easy way out. Behind him, however, Mr. Alden screamed, his throat burning with the screech of a slaughtered beast. Deep, frightening shouts of a person terrified by pain. Colin turned around to see what happened.

  Mr. Alden’s flesh melted on itself, rivulets of tissue flowing down his skin, dripping on the chair. He agonized in unending spasms, cells turning to juice, muscles ripping his joints apart, bones crumbling in liquid dust, the remains of his internal organs dropped over the seat and the computer table. From fat to tendons, all matter melted down, ice under fire, paraffin by the flame, cohesive force making no difference, bone and hair mingling in the soup of Mr. Alden's body.

  “Take me out of this hell ... give me something to do ...”

  Colin approached the chair where his boss had sat just a few minutes ago, vanished after torture, turned into slime by some sudden meltdown. He probed the air with his hand, expecting to touch something invisible, some proof of his hallucination. Mr. Alden should still be there, and yet, he was not.

  He scratched his shaved hair, spinning himself around to look for a presence anywhere in the room. If someone had played a prank on him, wouldn't that explain everything? People didn't just melt like that, not without heat, not without some sort of device! He smeared his finger in the slime on the table and smelled it. It had the scent of water.

  The ooze leaked from the seat, spreading itself on the ground. Colin could swear his feet sank in the floor tiles as his weight leaned heavily on one of his legs. He pushed the chair back to look at the strange shapes in the midst of Mr. Alden’s juice, but the backrest bent with the pressure of his hand. Even the solids seemed to melt.

  At the room’s corner, a line of lights blinked, keeping the same routine of years of unattended work. The modem, faithful server, connecting the office to the world, gave no signs of the apocalypse. Colin’s hands shook with cold, scared by the loneliness of his terror. To find out the state of global affairs, the modem, yes, to reach others.

  Mr. Alden's puddle of slime, his boss' presence, marked Colin's seat with the sight of torment. His computer screen illuminated the room with its greenish wallpaper, fighting against the red skies becoming purple by the minute.

  Disgusted by Mr. Alden's remains, he went to his boss’ room, where he made the first visits to major news portals on the Internet, using
a laptop on the big table. Fire in the sky. Scientists puzzled. Urgent meetings everywhere. Anti-matter anomaly. Unknown exotic energy. Photos from satellites. Earth’s surface hidden by flaming spheres.

  All news from a day ago, not a single update. He opened his Facebook newsfeed, hoping to catch his friends' latest posts. The first photo portrayed Angeline by the side of Jason and a few other work mates. Behind them, on the horizon, the blue pillar of light came down on the ocean, still faint. They smiled, hugging each other, and at their sides the crowd of apocalypse watchers filled every inch of the image.

  “Ending times with the best of friends!” the description said.

  Colin wondered if he would still meet them at the beach, if Angeline and her friends still hung together under the colossal pillar in the sky. She would normalize his world, show him that Mr. Alden's meltdown didn't happen, just a fruit of his stunted imagination. As he scrubbed the timeline, though, he was shocked by an acquaintance who posted a photo of his saddened face, still in bed.

  “I'm melting away, disappearing from this terrible world. Good-bye, all of you who watched me fade.”

  People said goodbye, they celebrated or cried, not one of them living the life of an ordinary day. Yet nothing indicated the current state of the world, no stories about meltdowns, about maddened individuals. Apocalypse, the party, the funeral, and the Internet still standing.

  Colin got the company’s phone and called the police. It rang and rang, to no effect. The plastic mouthpiece softened, its surface melted on his palm. His skin survived intact after the phone's black matter slipped down his hand, towards the table. Its dejected atoms disentangled from their peers, suicidal, indifferent to the possibility of new pairings with human carbon.