The Benefit of Filtration
[Howard knew where he was before he even opened his eyes...]Howard knew where he was before he even opened his eyes. He could feel the whiteness burning through his eyelids, the perfect evenness of the room pressing down on his shoulders. It was as if the two rows of evenly-spaced doors were taunting him, mocking him with their endlessness. He let go of Vince’s arm and let his hands fall limply down.
“Not here,” he said into the silence. “Anywhere but here. Not here! Not now!”
“Howard?” Vince was regarding him cautiously. “What’s going on?”
“It’s my dream.” He reached out and placed a hand flat against the wall before hitting it. The sound echoed in the vast emptiness. “The dream I’ve been having since I was a kid. In every life. I go through one of these doors and then it all begins again. We’re just going round in circles.”
Vince licked his lips nervously, his eyes blazing. “Maybe…maybe the spell’s trying to stop you from escaping. I dunno.”
“What are we going to do now?”
Vince didn’t say anything. He took a step forward, reaching out towards one of the door handles.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s locked.” Vince rattled the handle, but the white door remained steadfast. “Must’ve collapsed already.” He sighed determinedly. “I guess we’ve just got to find the one that goes home, eh?”
“Vince, that could take…” Howard paused. Was time even a concept here? “It could be any of them. I don’t even know how far this goes. What if we go somewhere else and I forget everything all over again? I can’t…”
“Don’t panic! S’gonna be alright.” Vince ran a hand through his hair. “Naboo must’ve done something. He’s projecting me in here, he must have left a clue or something.”
“Who?”
Vince smiled. “I’ll tell you later.” He walked towards another of the doors and slid his hand over the wood. “Come on. Which one is it? Where are you?”
“We’re gonna be stuck here forever.”
“No we’re not. Just shut up a minute, you’re putting me off.” Vince tapped at yet another door. “There’s got to be a different one. One that’s not like all the others.”
“They’re all exactly the same!”
“No, there’s something different, I can feel it…” Vince trailed off. “Hang on.”
“What?” Howard dashed to his side. “What have you found?”
Slowly, a grin appeared on Vince’s face. He placed both hands on the white wood and then leant forward to press his ear against it.
“I can hear something,” he said.
“What? What can you hear?”
“Voices…” Vince pulled away and took a step back. “You listen.”
Howard frowned, and then rested the side of his face on the smooth paint. For a second, he couldn’t hear anything, but then slowly it came: a soft humming that rose and fell in pitch like a human voice. It sounded like someone was talking far away, too far to make out any decipherable words, but it was unmistakably there.
“I can hear it too,” he whispered.
“This is it.” Vince laughed triumphantly. “It must be Naboo and Bollo! We found it!”
“You found it.”
Vince cried out with glee, and then grabbed at Howard’s arms, pulling him into a fierce hug. His fingers pressed sharply on Howard’s shoulders and the hair on the top of his head tickled his cheek. Howard froze and then slowly relaxed, placing his hands on Vince’s back and breathing in the sweet smell of hairspray and the sharper one that didn’t have a name.
“We’re going home, Howard,” Vince mumbled into the fabric of Howard’s shirt. He pulled away and Howard was nearly knocked back by the ferocious sparkle in his once-dim eyes. “We made it.”
“But how can we be sure?” Howard said, feeling a sudden fear rise in his throat. “What if it’s a trap and we get separated again? I don’t even remember anything about who I am - who I really am.”
“Then I’ll come find you again, you Muppet.” Vince rolled his eyes. “But that’s not going to happen, yeah? I spent so long…and I finally found you. I’m not letting you go again that easy.” He rested his hand on the doorhandle and bit his lip. “Do you want to go first or shall I?”
“I’ll go first," Howard said.
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Right.” Vince swallowed. “See you on the other side, then.”
He moved aside so that Howard was standing squarely in front of the door. Howard took in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He reached out towards the handle.
“Wait!”
And then Vince’s mouth was on his, soft and warm and pouring love into Howard’s very veins, his lungs. Vince’s hands were on the back of his neck, his breath slipping over Howard’s lips. When they pulled apart, Vince rested their foreheads together. “Good luck, Howard. I’ll see you in a bit,” he murmured, and the words caressed their cheeks and disappeared.
“See you,” Howard said, and then he firmly grasped the handle, pulled the door open, and stepped inside.
Then he was falling. Everything around him was white light and he was falling, plummeting like a stone through water, and there was no up and no down, just the silence and the whiteness that scratched and clawed at his body. And then, through the brightness that he had no choice but to look at, he saw something moving. A shadow passed across his vision, and with it he heard the sound of the Zooniverse cages squeaking and the lions growling and the intercom crackle and he saw himself about to be killed by a kangaroo and then he saw himself in the Arctic Tundra and then he saw himself onstage at an electro gig and everything was moving faster than the speed of light and sound and it filled him to the ends of his fingertips. He saw himself being chased by Yetis and wandering through a vast alien desert and being taken to an underground cave by a sea monster and then he saw himself facing his doppleganger and an evil urban animal and being shrunken down to molecular size. He saw Vince as well. Vince was everywhere, Howard could hear him, he could see them crimping and having Satsuma fights and bickering in the zoo, the flat, the shop. He saw the darkness that had descended when he had died. Voices crowded his consciousness and noises and tastes and smells and down and down he fell and all the life that he had ever lived surrounded him and he remembered; he was Howard Moon and he remembered.
***
“Howard? Howard! He’s awake! Bollo, get the potion!”
Howard blinked slowly. Everything around him seemed vague and hazy and his head was throbbing. He felt a pair of sturdy arms lifting him up, and then something was placed against his lips, forcing a thick, soupy, horseradish-tasting liquid down his throat that made him splutter. Instantly he felt his head beginning to clear and he suddenly became aware of a face hovering in front of his - a very familiar face.
“Naboo?” he said.
There was a sigh of relief, which was quickly followed by a stinging slap to his left cheek.
“Ow!” he cried out, though his voice was hoarse and choked back his words. “What was that for?”
“To wake you up,” said Naboo. “And because you’re a ballbag.”
“How am I a ballbag?”
“Because you let yourself get killed! D’you know how much paperwork I’m gonna have to do for the Council because of you? It’s a nightmare!”
“Bollo was worried sick,” the gorilla grunted. Then, registering what he had just said, coughed awkwardly and swiftly added, “About precious Vince. Harold can take care of himself.”
“Vince? Vince!” Howard sat bolt upright, but was forced back down by Naboo’s small but surprisingly strong hands.
“Slow down, you idiot. You’ve only just woken up.”
“Is Vince ok? Where is he?”
“Calm down, he’s right here.”
Howard followed Naboo’s gaze to his left, and breathed a sigh of relief. Vince was lying asleep in his bed - that must have been dragged through into Howard’s room - wrapped up in a mountain of multi-coloured blankets, hair sprawled out over the pillow and rhythmically breathing.
“Vince is ok. Bollo been taking good care of him. Even washing his hair,” Bollo said proudly.
Howard sighed. “How long were we out for?”
“About a week.”
“A week?”
“Exactly!” Naboo’s eyes were dark and dangerous. “D’you have any idea how stressful it’s been? Sending someone into another person’s consciousness isn’t easy, yeah? Especially when the other person’s a ballbag and won’t bloody remember who he is!”
For the first time, Howard noticed the bags under his landlord’s eyes; his pale face and the way his turban was slightly askew.
“Council had a fit when I told them I’d used that spell,” Naboo muttered. “When I told them I’d send Vince in after you Saboo threatened to exile me back to Xooberon, the twat. They said once I got you both back I’ve got to go and have my powers revoked…again!”
“Naboo, I’m…I’m really sorry.”
Naboo heaved a sigh and looked down at the floor. “Yeah, well,” he murmured. “Fuck ‘em. They’re all bastards anyway.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Really, don’t. Tony Harrison’s got a betting pool on.”
Howard smiled. Then, from where Vince was lying, he heard a sharp gasp, and when he looked over Vince was shuddering from head to foot, his eyes still firmly shut.
“Vince?” he said. “Naboo!”
But Naboo was already at Vince’s side, standing over him and chanting something in a foreign language. Howard threw off his covers and tried to stand up, but Bollo was holding him down, and Vince was still shaking over and over and over.
“Vince!”
“Not here,” he said into the silence. “Anywhere but here. Not here! Not now!”
“Howard?” Vince was regarding him cautiously. “What’s going on?”
“It’s my dream.” He reached out and placed a hand flat against the wall before hitting it. The sound echoed in the vast emptiness. “The dream I’ve been having since I was a kid. In every life. I go through one of these doors and then it all begins again. We’re just going round in circles.”
Vince licked his lips nervously, his eyes blazing. “Maybe…maybe the spell’s trying to stop you from escaping. I dunno.”
“What are we going to do now?”
Vince didn’t say anything. He took a step forward, reaching out towards one of the door handles.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s locked.” Vince rattled the handle, but the white door remained steadfast. “Must’ve collapsed already.” He sighed determinedly. “I guess we’ve just got to find the one that goes home, eh?”
“Vince, that could take…” Howard paused. Was time even a concept here? “It could be any of them. I don’t even know how far this goes. What if we go somewhere else and I forget everything all over again? I can’t…”
“Don’t panic! S’gonna be alright.” Vince ran a hand through his hair. “Naboo must’ve done something. He’s projecting me in here, he must have left a clue or something.”
“Who?”
Vince smiled. “I’ll tell you later.” He walked towards another of the doors and slid his hand over the wood. “Come on. Which one is it? Where are you?”
“We’re gonna be stuck here forever.”
“No we’re not. Just shut up a minute, you’re putting me off.” Vince tapped at yet another door. “There’s got to be a different one. One that’s not like all the others.”
“They’re all exactly the same!”
“No, there’s something different, I can feel it…” Vince trailed off. “Hang on.”
“What?” Howard dashed to his side. “What have you found?”
Slowly, a grin appeared on Vince’s face. He placed both hands on the white wood and then leant forward to press his ear against it.
“I can hear something,” he said.
“What? What can you hear?”
“Voices…” Vince pulled away and took a step back. “You listen.”
Howard frowned, and then rested the side of his face on the smooth paint. For a second, he couldn’t hear anything, but then slowly it came: a soft humming that rose and fell in pitch like a human voice. It sounded like someone was talking far away, too far to make out any decipherable words, but it was unmistakably there.
“I can hear it too,” he whispered.
“This is it.” Vince laughed triumphantly. “It must be Naboo and Bollo! We found it!”
“You found it.”
Vince cried out with glee, and then grabbed at Howard’s arms, pulling him into a fierce hug. His fingers pressed sharply on Howard’s shoulders and the hair on the top of his head tickled his cheek. Howard froze and then slowly relaxed, placing his hands on Vince’s back and breathing in the sweet smell of hairspray and the sharper one that didn’t have a name.
“We’re going home, Howard,” Vince mumbled into the fabric of Howard’s shirt. He pulled away and Howard was nearly knocked back by the ferocious sparkle in his once-dim eyes. “We made it.”
“But how can we be sure?” Howard said, feeling a sudden fear rise in his throat. “What if it’s a trap and we get separated again? I don’t even remember anything about who I am - who I really am.”
“Then I’ll come find you again, you Muppet.” Vince rolled his eyes. “But that’s not going to happen, yeah? I spent so long…and I finally found you. I’m not letting you go again that easy.” He rested his hand on the doorhandle and bit his lip. “Do you want to go first or shall I?”
“I’ll go first," Howard said.
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Right.” Vince swallowed. “See you on the other side, then.”
He moved aside so that Howard was standing squarely in front of the door. Howard took in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He reached out towards the handle.
“Wait!”
And then Vince’s mouth was on his, soft and warm and pouring love into Howard’s very veins, his lungs. Vince’s hands were on the back of his neck, his breath slipping over Howard’s lips. When they pulled apart, Vince rested their foreheads together. “Good luck, Howard. I’ll see you in a bit,” he murmured, and the words caressed their cheeks and disappeared.
“See you,” Howard said, and then he firmly grasped the handle, pulled the door open, and stepped inside.
Then he was falling. Everything around him was white light and he was falling, plummeting like a stone through water, and there was no up and no down, just the silence and the whiteness that scratched and clawed at his body. And then, through the brightness that he had no choice but to look at, he saw something moving. A shadow passed across his vision, and with it he heard the sound of the Zooniverse cages squeaking and the lions growling and the intercom crackle and he saw himself about to be killed by a kangaroo and then he saw himself in the Arctic Tundra and then he saw himself onstage at an electro gig and everything was moving faster than the speed of light and sound and it filled him to the ends of his fingertips. He saw himself being chased by Yetis and wandering through a vast alien desert and being taken to an underground cave by a sea monster and then he saw himself facing his doppleganger and an evil urban animal and being shrunken down to molecular size. He saw Vince as well. Vince was everywhere, Howard could hear him, he could see them crimping and having Satsuma fights and bickering in the zoo, the flat, the shop. He saw the darkness that had descended when he had died. Voices crowded his consciousness and noises and tastes and smells and down and down he fell and all the life that he had ever lived surrounded him and he remembered; he was Howard Moon and he remembered.
***
“Howard? Howard! He’s awake! Bollo, get the potion!”
Howard blinked slowly. Everything around him seemed vague and hazy and his head was throbbing. He felt a pair of sturdy arms lifting him up, and then something was placed against his lips, forcing a thick, soupy, horseradish-tasting liquid down his throat that made him splutter. Instantly he felt his head beginning to clear and he suddenly became aware of a face hovering in front of his - a very familiar face.
“Naboo?” he said.
There was a sigh of relief, which was quickly followed by a stinging slap to his left cheek.
“Ow!” he cried out, though his voice was hoarse and choked back his words. “What was that for?”
“To wake you up,” said Naboo. “And because you’re a ballbag.”
“How am I a ballbag?”
“Because you let yourself get killed! D’you know how much paperwork I’m gonna have to do for the Council because of you? It’s a nightmare!”
“Bollo was worried sick,” the gorilla grunted. Then, registering what he had just said, coughed awkwardly and swiftly added, “About precious Vince. Harold can take care of himself.”
“Vince? Vince!” Howard sat bolt upright, but was forced back down by Naboo’s small but surprisingly strong hands.
“Slow down, you idiot. You’ve only just woken up.”
“Is Vince ok? Where is he?”
“Calm down, he’s right here.”
Howard followed Naboo’s gaze to his left, and breathed a sigh of relief. Vince was lying asleep in his bed - that must have been dragged through into Howard’s room - wrapped up in a mountain of multi-coloured blankets, hair sprawled out over the pillow and rhythmically breathing.
“Vince is ok. Bollo been taking good care of him. Even washing his hair,” Bollo said proudly.
Howard sighed. “How long were we out for?”
“About a week.”
“A week?”
“Exactly!” Naboo’s eyes were dark and dangerous. “D’you have any idea how stressful it’s been? Sending someone into another person’s consciousness isn’t easy, yeah? Especially when the other person’s a ballbag and won’t bloody remember who he is!”
For the first time, Howard noticed the bags under his landlord’s eyes; his pale face and the way his turban was slightly askew.
“Council had a fit when I told them I’d used that spell,” Naboo muttered. “When I told them I’d send Vince in after you Saboo threatened to exile me back to Xooberon, the twat. They said once I got you both back I’ve got to go and have my powers revoked…again!”
“Naboo, I’m…I’m really sorry.”
Naboo heaved a sigh and looked down at the floor. “Yeah, well,” he murmured. “Fuck ‘em. They’re all bastards anyway.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Really, don’t. Tony Harrison’s got a betting pool on.”
Howard smiled. Then, from where Vince was lying, he heard a sharp gasp, and when he looked over Vince was shuddering from head to foot, his eyes still firmly shut.
“Vince?” he said. “Naboo!”
But Naboo was already at Vince’s side, standing over him and chanting something in a foreign language. Howard threw off his covers and tried to stand up, but Bollo was holding him down, and Vince was still shaking over and over and over.
“Vince!”