Author Sanders crossed the page. “Anderson, what happened to our copies?”
The Chief Scribe accessed the index. “They seem to be going underground, sir. Writing themselves out of the narrative line.”
Sanders paced. “Anderson. I’m going to suggest a very unorthodox procedure. To be honest it’s very possibly illegal, so if you want to step away, I can do this myself.”
Chief Scribe Anderson glared at her Author. “I’ll just pretend you didn’t say that.”
Sanders pulled up a chair. “Thank you. But I’m still going to need to take control. Just to set things in motion. From there, I’ll need you to work your magic.”
Anderson squinted at him and then handed the Author the keyboard. Truth be told, she was quite excited. She’d never seen him work before.
***
Author Sanders sat in a train. He was heading for…he checked his ticket, Edinburgh. They had a castle.
He-
Was shaken by his Scribe. “Sir. Something’s happening. I think we’re being over-written.”
Anderson was back on the ship. After they had fallen into the story they had set about trying to write themselves out. They shouldn’t have been there, after all, and by being part of the event ran the risk of distorting it.
Now, it would appear, someone had other ideas.
***
“Dammit.”
“Sir?”
Sanders rubbed his eyes. “You’re too damn good.”
“At the risk of repeating myself…Sir?”
“I’m trying to access their story, rewrite it so that I can meet myself and -“
“You’re trying to what?”
“They’re story now. We can access the-“
“Not that bit. Meet yourself? Do you know how dangerous that is?”
He looked at her.
“Ofcourseyou know how dangerous that is.” Her words fell over themselves to get out. “So what on earth are you thinking?”
“We deserve a different chance. I want to give us a pocket world to live in, so we,” he caught himself. “So they can do something. It feels wrong to just let us die.”
“You weren’t wrong when you said this was unorthodox. But you were when you said it was possibly illegal. It’s absolutely illegal!”
They sat in silence.
“If you want to be relieved of duty.”
“I told you the last time you said that.” She looked over his shoulder. “You know…for an author, you have no idea how to get to the point.”
He stared at her.
“OK. You need him to sleep, right?”
“What are you going to-“
“I’ll copy and paste you in. Be ready. If I’m as good as you say, you’ll need control as soon as your eyes are closed.”
***
Sanders yawned. “Well, I’m tired, Anderson. I think I’m going to hit the sack.”
Anderson looked at her boss. “You’re tired? Sir…what about-“
“Yep. I’ll deal with that in the morning. Goodnight.”
***
Anderson was sweating. “God. She’s amazing!” She winked at her Sanders. “She should get a raise.”
***
Sanders closed his eyes.
***
“You’re in”
***
The fog was so thick Sanders couldn’t see more than his arms length. “Hello, Paul.”
He span round. “Me?”
Sanders nodded. “It’s the only way the Author and Subject can safely speak.”
“You’re writing in a dream sequence? Wait…why? Who are you?”
“We got too close when we observed Paul. The…younger Paul. My Anderson copy and pasted us out just before we were committed.”
“So…she got us out?”
“Us…yes.”
“She’s…That Anderson. She’s…”
“She should get a rise. I’ll see to it.”
“So – why this?”
“You’re writing yourself out. We can change that. Write you a pocket universe, your own stories, and you can keep going.”
Paul looked at himself. “You know how dangerous that is.”
“And what else will you do?”
“What you would.” Paul put his hand on his other’s shoulder. “What you would. It was a wonderful idea and it’s nice to know we survived. But I think I should like to wake up now.”
***
Paul sat in his flat, his miserable presents piled up in a corner. On top, mocking him, the soap on a rope pack from his girlfriend’s grandmother.
He glared at them and turned back to his desk.
Where the gem that was his diary mocked him.
“Broke the wall, did we?”
He looked back at presents.
“Well, fuck that shitty jumper then.”
He pushed his machine on and started typing.
***
Back on the ship Author Sanders turned to his Chief Scribe Anderson.
“Well, sir? What happened.”
“We did OK, Anderson. We’re disengaging from this story.”
She paused, wondering if he’d say anything else. When it was clear he wouldn’t, she turned to her machine and disengaged.
