If you have a toaster that goes up to six, you know you’re never going to use it above four. The dial might accidentally get turned up high, but that means the toast is going straight in the bin. If you’re desperate (i.e. a student), you might scrape off the top layer of carcinogenic charcoal, but it’s a grim fate most would rather avoid.The thing is, those high settings were put there for a reason. Toaster engineers aren’t dummies. They have degrees in science (and baking, presumably). They know exactly what they’re doing. They know five produces the subtle aroma of melted plastic, and that six is guaranteed to set off alarms at the Office for Chemical and Biological Weapons. So why did they put them there?Sure, there are some toasters made to handle bagels or muffins straight out of the freezer. But the useless settings on toasters have always been there, even before people knew frozen waffles were a thing.But people don’t care. They don’t demand answers as lo
The walls were thick, so the archway had some depth to it. You could see through it and yet have no indication of what was on the other side, apart from shadows.This was where Dudley’s second sight had faltered. Beyond was where the girls had gone. We were entering the realm of the Golden God, whoever the fuck that was.The two undead guards walked ahead of me in long, strong strides. I had to double-step to keep up. Stairs led us down. Torches flared brightly as a faint breeze caught their flames, but all they showed were more steps, and more shadows ahead.The appendages I had managed to detach and now had in each hand, connected me to the guards. It was a strange sensation. I could feel the weight and texture, even some movement as a pulse passed through my hands and up my arms, but I couldn’t see what I was holding. My hands were empty, and also buried in the consciousness of each guard.And they did have a consciousness. They weren’t the mindless undea
The Pope was sitting on his throne, leaning a little to the side so that his elbow rested on one of the ornately carved armrests. Close up, it was obvious his luscious blond locks were a wig, and that he had a lot of makeup on.“You’re American?” I asked him. “You’re the one who came here with Peter and Zarigold?”The Pope pursed his lip as he looked me over. It was nothing I wasn’t used to. People judged me all the time, trying to work out how the hell I was still alive when so many better people weren’t.“That’s right. Rupert Haines. Nice to meet you.” His non-theatrical voice was quite high and nasally.“And Tupor Haisman?” I was curious about the name change. Why bother?“Just a stage name. More fitting of the setting, I thought. Never liked Rupert, lacks a punch. Not so unusual, really. I mean, you don’t think Zarigold’s her real name, do you.” His eyebrows climbed up his face like he’d revealed some scurrilous gossip.We were getting on v
I left Jenny in younger-me’s care and returned to the small room where our bodies were frozen in place. I was sitting on the bed with my eyes closed. Jenny, topless, sat beside me, staring at my face.Objectively speaking, I don’t have an attractive face. It won’t make you throw up or anything, but I won’t be asked to model sunglasses any time soon.What Jenny found so fascinating in me, I had no idea. It was flattering, of course, but you end up taking these things for granted.I floated out of the room, passing through the door without having to open it. The corridor was lined with tentacles of varying sizes, covering the walls like a very organic plumbing system. As strange as it was to be in this adjacent world, I was getting used to it. There seemed to be a valuable lesson here. Something about familiarity leading to something something.It was kind of a bonkers system, when you stopped to think about it. Things you hate, that terrify you, slowly lose t
The Pope led us back towards the heart of the temple. He seemed very happy to do what I asked, which immediately made me suspicious. Nobody was ever happy to follow my orders.The Pope was cooperating, the old gods had let me go with barely a how do you do. No one was this easy-going unless they were up to something.My instinct was not to trust either of them, not to believe any explanations, and to be super-suspicious whenever they let me have my way. Not that my instincts were always right — when it came to anything positive, they were usually very, very wrong — but once the alarm went off, time to start running.Unfortunately, I didn’t understand what was going on well enough to know which direction I should be running in.“Can I have my sword back,” said Jenny as we travelled through numerous corridors.“No, I think I should hang onto it.”“But I’m better at using it.” She was right in that her skills with it were marginally better than mi
Jenny was not happy. She was the sort of person who prided herself on not being a nag. She presented herself as a supportive partner willing to back me up in whatever retarded idea I came up with. She’d tell me it was retarded, but that wouldn’t stop her having my back.Which is cool. People should only tell you not to do something if they have a better option. One they know works due to experience and wisdom, not because they think it will help them whore karma on Reddit.Under those conditions, hardly anyone would get to tell anyone else what to do. People would make mistakes, of course, but they would be valuable mistakes that would help the person grow and improve.This time, however, Jenny was not in the mood to stand by and allow me to go skipping off into the jaws of danger. Not without her mooring line firmly attached.“If he disconnects himself from me,” said Jenny, “won’t he die? I thought I was the only thing keeping him alive.”“Yes. Techn
There were four lights in all. Three smaller one, and the big one that seemed to do all the talking. The red balls hanging in the air suggested eyes, but not in a Sauron ‘I see everything’ kind of way, more a HAL ‘Hello, Dave’ kind of way. A harmonised version of Daisy, Daisy could break out at any moment.There’s a rumour, strongly denied, that HAL, in the movie 2001, was meant to represent the firm IBM. If you take a letter away from each of the letters in I-B-M you get H-A-L.But it was never the hardware that was going to be the problem for the future of mankind. If you made the same kind of movie today, the insane AI watching your every move would be something more like Facebook, but you’d face the same problem. You couldn’t use the name without getting sued. You’d have to take a letter away from each of its initials to make up a completely fictitious evil company. FB would become... Oh, wait.“You have returned to set us free,” said the big light. There was a
“Destroy? You mean as in kill? You want to kill Peter.” The voice, for all its unsettling menace — hard to come across as anything else when you’re emanating from a stone coffin — had a tinge of genuine shock to it. He was horrified by the prospect of what I’d suggested. “Oh, I couldn’t do that. Absolutely not.”Disappointing.“You don’t control dead people, then? You aren’t a necromancer?”“I told you, I’m a vivimancer.”“I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of that before. What does it mean?”“It means I can heal, I can prolong life. Other people’s and my own. It’s the reason I’m in here. My body was starved of food and air, but my life force abides.”“You aren’t dead?”“I am and I am not.”“And Peter put you here, but you still don’t want to get him back?”“Not by robbing him of life. I mean, I wouldn’t like it if someone did that to me, so why would I do it to someone else?”Someone had done it to him. I didn’t point this