CHAPTER 4
“Adonia”
INTERLUDE
THE TOWER
It’s been a few weeks since they found Russ’ suicide note, next to his prized possesions on the edge of the crumbled Williamsburg Bridge. Everyone still in shock, they do what they do best: throw a party. So they closed the club and all of his friends had gathered in Deadalus’ Tower. The abandoned, wooden water tower sits directly above Broken Land, perched atop the shell of a crumbled building. The architect hadn’t turned down the chance to make his studio out of a symbolic part of the New York skyline, and had filled the cozy space with antique furniture, warm lighting, rugs, and a small kitchenette. The centerpiece was an old desk converted into a DJ booth with a smaller version of his Magnum Opus sound system.
The curved wooden walls are decorated with old copies of Russ’ haikus and memorial tributes written by his friends. The messages have all been folded into origami feathers by Eryn, just like Russ taught her. They form a giant pair of wings wrapping around half the space, with Theo’s favorite photo of Russ at its center. It is the last photo Theo ever took of him, blown up to match his personality. Theo had been shooting redscale— flipping the film backwards— resulting in a beautiful red glow over Russ’ wistful expression.
The packed room sways to the slow beats played by DEADALUS, the crowd climbing the walls and sitting on the speakers, shelves, and bar. There are even more people on the roof below, smoking and telling stories. THEO is holding up the wall behind the decks next to Deadalus, unshaven and baggy-eyed. He’s staring at the selfie of the two friends, taken on Theo’s first night at Broken Land. Russ had scrawled his trademark L.A.B on it in IR ink.
ARIA dances by herself on top of the round ottoman in the middle of the room, wearing Russ’ disco ball hoodie over bare skin, unzipped to the navel. She is WORKING that hoodie, he thinks in Russ’ voice. She dances slowly, all four arms of her Aura raised in a trance, dancing for no one but herself and her memories of her friend. The place is going wild in cathartic celebration, but Theo has never felt more alone. He locks eyes with Aria. She understands.
Deadalus puts on one of his special records, a remix of a cover of a classic. Like before, the music is visible, golden watercolors pouring out of the speakers. Aria grabs the chandelier above her head, tucks her knees and twirls in a slow circle. Theo swivels one of the triangular monitors outward, sending the colored lights bouncing off her mirrored top. She’s the disco ball, lighting up the room in memory of their friend.
Theo lifts his camera and looks at her through the viewfinder, snapping multiple exposures as she turns. Deadalus loops the chorus, and the haunting voice keeps repeating “into the black.” A gilded beam of light hits Theo in the eye, and he is suddenly somewhere else.
The spinning chandelier is a globe. Spinning. Spinning. Then a sudden stop. Theo falls through the beam, toward the globe, falling into a map of his homeland. He is a kid again.
The light is the sun. Round and massive.
His camera is a cardboard box, with a dark round eyehole.
Aria’s Aura is an eclipse. The sun is black.
“into the black, into the black, into the black”
He’s looking into the box, trying to see the eclipse. He wants to just look directly. But he’s not supposed to. Litle Theo looks up, expecting to see his brother. Herc’s favorite shirt, a round yellow smiley face with the words “Nevermind,” should be there. But he’s gone. The older boy built the pinhole camera for Theo, but he left.
“Once you’re gone, you can never come back.”
Herc went to New York, and Theo was lonely. But then the earthquake happened. And Theo was all alone.
“Rock and roll will never die.”
Theo shakes the memory away, a single tear streaming down his face. First Herc, and now Russ. This place has taken so much from him. He recognizes this feeling, the unnaturalness of the memory, same as before. He looks at Deadalus’ strange triangular speakers more closely and wonders. Aria has stopped dancing, and is staring at Theo curiously.
Deadalus ends his set, plugging his headphones into the microphone jack. Using the ad hoc mic, he makes a short emotional speech about all the great people they’ve lost in the past, including Russ.
DEADALUS
I know you all loved Russ. He was like a son to me. We first bonded over Japanese art and its place in New Brooklyn. The way I repaired the walls of Broken Land and the charred wood I used for the Gates and dance floor were both his idea. Russ said we could learn a lot from our brothers to the East. They recovered from the atomic bomb to become a society of the future, truly post-apocalyptic. And just as we recovered after the Breaking, so too will we heal, eventually, from the tragedy of losing Russ. And we will put our broken city, and our broken hearts, together again. Stronger than ever. It’s what he would have wanted.
To Russ!
The crowd cheers for their friend. Then SHARON steps into the booth, and puts on an uplifting house track.
SHARON
Goodbye Russ, we’ll miss the hell out of you! Now let’s play something a little more upbeat, eh? What is this, a funeral!?
Deadalus gives Theo a big hug, lets him know that since Theo was Russ’ favorite, that makes Theo part of the family.
DEADALUS
You are a great photographer. You know your lighting. I want you more involved, actually have you doing our photos officially. We have big things coming up, and they should be well documented.
He puts his arm around Theo, taking him under his wing in front of the feather wall. Theo thanks him and heads toward the stairs for a smoke.
MINUS (OS)
Look who’s in Deadalus’ good graces, now that his favorite punched his own ticket?
Theo turns to see a smirking MINUS. Theo snaps, lunging at him. He gets in a good punch, knocking Minus back into the memorial wall and knocking Russ’ picture onto the floor. Theo grabs a candlestick and prepares for a good beat down when Minus stands, wipes the blood from his mouth, and sends his Aura slithering out to wrap around Theo’s arms, legs and neck. He makes Theo flap his arms like the wings of his dearly departed friend as Theo’s eyes glisten in frustrated rage.
Suddenly Aria is between them, and grabs each of the chains with one of the arms of her Aura. She stares down Minus, flexes her Aura, and shatters the chains.
ARIA
Grow up Minus, you asshole. Russ was ten times the man you’ll ever be, as is Theo. You’re just jealous Deadalus sees that.
Before Minus can weigh the cost benefit analysis of fighting with Aria, she drags Theo away.
ARIA
Hey. Look at me. Look at me! I know how you feel. Russ was depressed. Maybe he wanted out. But he wasn’t suicidal.
THEO
I need to find out what happened to him. But I can’t do anything without him just mind controlling me again. I’ve got to get off the Rust so I can—
ARIA
It won’t help. You’re in the red now, there’s no going back. Your only option is to go forward, into the black. Minus can’t control anyone who’s monoChrome, remember?
THEO
Russ said that was impossible. There’s no more Vermillion.
ARIA
We were looking for more. I’d reach out mentally to guide his Aura as it travelled the world. We always talked about getting out of the city, exploring the world in person, just as soon as…
She breaks down, realizing it was a trip that Russ would never make. Tears stream down her face as it hardens with resolve, and understanding.
ARIA
Come upstairs, I have something to show you.
THE LOFT
They climb a rickety, cobweb-covered ladder in the back of the room, up through a trap door and into a loft space at the top of the tower. The small space was cozy, with a large futon, milk crates packed with yarn, and a web of tapestries stretched across the high ceiling. The only illumination is the soft red glow shining through the gauzy fabric.
Aria slowly circles the room, lighting candles as she goes.
ARIA
Things were different then, before the Breaking. Manhattan wasn’t quite so gentrified. Deadalus came back from some mid-life crisis trip to the Yucatan, raving about this mystical plant called Vermillion. He was already Chrome. He was the first.
He quit his big architect job and built the first prototype of the Magnum Opus. Said he saw it in a vision. He taught himself to DJ almost overnight, ripped everything out of that stuffy office in the meatpacking district and started throwing parties in it. That’s when I met him, along with the rest of the original crew.
Sharon was there then, talked him into coming out to Brooklyn. So he sold that place to some clubowner, built a bigger version of the Opus, and started throwing parties all over Brooklyn.
She continues walking around the room, punctuating each sentence with the lighting of a candle.
ARIA
It was an amazing time, each party getting bigger and better, working our way around Brooklyn. Wherever we went, the energy from the Opus called to the long-dormant Vermillion deep underground. We would find it growing in the tunnels under the city. Rust was plentiful. As was Gold.
THEO
Gold?
ARIA
Yeah. Gold is Rust’s big brother. One a fun party drug, opening us up to the music and lights. The other drug, officially called Aurum, was a shamanic experience, one that lets you actually SEE the music. HEAR the lights. If you did it, and the situation was just right, you might “strike Gold,” and get powers.
THEO
Holy shit. How?
ARIA
Long term Rust users all have a tiny bit of Aurum that naturally builds up in their pineal gland. The spiritual center. The Third Eye. Intense experiences can connect Aurum, the drug, to the natural Aurum in our brain.
This trigger was different for each of us, with the user’s history and subconscious shaping what power they would get. For some, the trigger event was mystical, others had a near-death experience, and for some of us, ahem, it was highly sexual.
She arches an eyebrow, leaving the rest to Theo’s imagination, and sits on the bed. She pats the spot next to her, inviting him to sit.
ARIA
But by then even Brooklyn was getting all gentrified. It made finding real Vermillion, and places to throw parties, harder and harder. Deadalus found this huge warehouse, the building below us actually, for one last hurrah with all the Vermillion we could find. The Ragnarok Rave. The party to end all parties. But sometime on day three, at the party’s craziest, the quake hit.
(beat)
We got out of there into the bright morning sunlight, just as the walls were coming down, watching Brooklyn just crumble around us. It was awful.
But Brooklyn adapted, and became New Brooklyn. And we all got back to our roots. Got back to art. New Brooklyn turned out to be the perfect home for the Rusted— no cell service, no wifi, no cops, no bullshit. And the quake had opened up a passageway down to an abandoned subway station you’re now familiar with, where Deadalus used his powers to create Broken Land from the blueprints in his head. He said he built it for me. His muse. That first night, I just danced in the middle of the room and cried. Like tonight.
THEO
I’m sorry. It must have been hard to be here then. I can only imagine.
ARIA
It gets worse. After the quake, real Vermillion was impossible to find, and some of the original Alchemists started leaving. Minus started running things his way. And the last members that joined, like Manny and The Serb, well they were never quite right. Maybe the last of the Aurum was wrong somehow, or something. Who knows? The Rust everyone does now is synthetic. Stronger, cheaper, less communal. Muy malo. But without the natural drug’s ties to the web of life, the vibe at Broken Land isn’t what it used to be. I can feel the difference. And the only way to get those crazy chromesthesia visions anymore is from one of Deadalus’ Broken Records, the Pyrite effect a poor substitute for real Aurum.
THEO
I figured… you’re saying those times I would have those weird visions was from the Opus?
ARIA
It’s the Aurum in your brain, triggered by the signal encoded in a record, yeah. Deadalus says that with the right mix, a combination of the right records, he can make everyone Chrome, but he hasn’t had any luck. But tonight, when you pushed the Pyrite out into the room for a second I got a vision of you and me, up here, doing this—
She leans in and kisses him.
ARIA
—and this!
She rips the tapestry down to reveal the source of the glow: a trio of red plants growing fungus-like, growing out of the circular lip at the top edge of the wall. The plants had thick, triangular stalks akin to a succulent, with small flowers and powdery red stamens. The stalks arched down towards the rooom below, and seemed to throb to the beat of the music.
What Theo first thinks is a chandelier is actually a large beehive hanging from the tower’s peak. It was made of layers of triangular honeycomb, covered in shimmering gold, with glowing red honeybees flitting between the hive and the plats.
ARIA
This is it, Theo, the only Vermillion left in New York. The source of it all.
THEO
I don’t understand. I thought it was all gone?
ARIA
We’ve been looking everywhere for it, but I finally found this tiny bit up here in the Tower. Attracted to the sound of the Opus, a rogue spore took hold, and I nurtured it. That’s what’s in my joints— the pollen. No synthetic shit for me.
THEO
This is amazing. We have to tell everyone!
ARIA
No one else knows about this, Theo. Not even Deadalus! Russ knew, he helped me take care of the bees, and smoked the pollen like I do. It’s the last of it as far as I can tell, and without Russ I don’t know if we’ll ever find more.
(beat)
But the Vermillion is only half of it. Even when we had more of the plant, Deadalus never knew how to concentrate it into Aurum. The little he had was smuggled back from Mexico, made by a village elder who introduced him to the Black. But nature’s funny. It’s smart. This plant lives in symbiosis with the animal life around it, and some local bees found their way in here from a nearby rooftop garden. Now they process it, eating the pollen and making a concentrated golden honey. This is it. Aurum. It turns out that all those fucking conquistadors were really looking for honey all that time.
She stands up on the bed, and breaks off a layer of the honeycomb. The Vermillion had unequivocally altered these bees— the honeycombs themselves were composed of triangular, not hexagonal, sections.
ARIA (continued)
I want you to have it, Theo. You’re special. You’ve been in the red your whole life, and we were fated to come together like this. It should be you.
They sit on the bed, the honeycomb in between them. She breaks it in half, the metallic honey covering her fingers. She drips a shimmering dollop onto Theo’s tongue, then slowly sucks the remainder off her finger. She leans over to him and they kiss, the Aurum mingling between their lips.
The strange substance is warm and all knowing, with a bitter aftertaste. The color drains from his vision, as the music from downstairs gets louder, looks louder, bright bursts of swirling chaos. Then the whole world falls away.
He’s pulled out of his body entirely, standing off to the side of the room watching Aria make out with him. Their bodies vibrate, ebony Auras shaking free and forming copies of them both. One more Theo and one, two, three more Arias. Without a word, the three Aria duplicates begin to kiss each other, and after a pause, pull in the extra Theo. The scene devolves into quick cuts, as seen under a strobe light. The duplicates pin Theo’s body down as the real Aria climbs on top of him.
The sex is intense and ritualistic. The duplicates all reach across the bed in a confusing tangle of mouths and limbs, with him at the center.
Aria takes a ball of thick red yarn and slowly ties his wrists together in intricate knots. From a distance, Theo’s consciousness watches it all with a detached fascination, like a fly on the wall. Straining against his bonds, his body arcs up to kiss her, but she leans back, looking deep into his eyes.
ARIA
These knots, being bound like this, it’s always comforted me. No matter how big the party, no matter how many chaotic emotions I could sense around me— if I was tied up tight, I was safe. Each knot is a reminder, grounding me to what is real.
Suddenly Aria turns to address Theo’s disembodied spirit, while simultaneously looping the yarn around his very real neck. She pulls it taught, choking him.
ARIA
Minus’ chains are not the same as my webs. They are locked around the neck of all the Rusted. He pulls the strings of all his little puppets. The only way out of his grasp is through. Into the black. No more red. Just monoChrome!
He flails, gasping for breath. His confidence is replaced by panic. The bass, and his heart beat, get louder. The borders of his vision go fuzzy and dark. This is not going how he thought it would go. Was this her plan all along, just to kill him?
ARIA
Mystical, sexual AND near-death. The three ways to “strike gold”. The three pineal events that activate the Aurum in your brain. For you, it needs to be all three. You can be the strongest of all of us. The best of us.
She looks at his Aura across the room while tightening the noose with all of her arms.
ARIA
But you need to trust me, and get in the game, Theo. Don’t get lost in this moment! Be here!
She smiles, loosens the noose and Theo breathes deep as the sex, the ceremony, and his metamorphosis all reach their crescendo. His spirit rockets back into his body, and suddenly he’s looking up at her. Their Auras have fused into a bright, shimmering black glow, almost blinding.
ARIA
You’re in the Black now, babe. Forged anew! Congrats on surviving the experience.
The last thing Theo sees before he passes out are the glowing bees above them, flickering like the fireflies of his youth.
ELSEWHERE
The glowing insects buzz about the Mayan temple and the waterfall flowing into the sunken cavern. The worshippers chant. Inside the cavern, bright fractal stalks of Vermillion illuminate the darkness. In the back of the cave, a stone seal, decorated with carvings of earth, sun, and moon. Behind it, a tomb
High above, as the chanting reaches fever pitch, the feathered maiden leaps from the temple. Silhouetted by the blinding sun above her, she plummets into the darkness below. Her last sight as she disappears into the void is the alien geometry of overlapping scarlet triangles, welcoming her. The bottom rushes up to meet her—
THE TOWER - THE NEXT DAY
A single bee settles onto THEO’s sleeping form. He wakes with a start from his vision, confused and drenched in sweat, and fights his way through a tangle of sheets. The sheets win, and he faceplants onto the floor. Last night has followed him into a new day, the drugs and the insanity still very present. Extending his arms, he sees them wrapped in a telltale black, metallic Aura, pulsing and trailing behind his hands as they move. He’s hyperventilating and in shock as the Aura extends outwards, knocking over objects in the loft as he staggers about.
He’s snapped out of his panic attack by the sight of the thick red yarn tied to his pinky, extending across the room and down the ladder-like staircase. It grounds him, the details of last night slowly returning. He follows the yarn down the rabbit hole.
Theo emerges into the high-ceilinged space below, with burnt out candles, beer cans, and pieces of gold foil the evidence of a party long over. The setting sun streams in through the windows, and the yarn disappears down a large trapdoor in the floor. In a daze, he effortlessly lifts the concrete slab, the black Chrome shimmering in overlapping lines from the exertion.
He pulls up on the string like a fishing line, lifting a familiar pair of black winged sneakers: Russ’ Jeremy Scott Adidas. Inside one of the shoes is Russ’ gold samurai sword pendant— a ninjato, Russ would correct him. The thought jogs his memory and it hits him again. Russ was dead.
He slumps onto the ottoman in the middle of the room, hyperventilating. It was all too much. Too real. Russ was dead, he was seeing and hearing in new and scary ways, and the walls seemed to close in on him.
He’s startled by Aria, lowering herself down next to him.
ARIA
We’ve got a pretty apt Little Miss Muffet situation going on here.
(beat)
Hey, breath. Breath! You’ve gone through a lot, and your new senses are in overdrive.
She kneels in front him and slips the shoes on his feet and the necklace around his neck.
ARIA
Maybe it’s more of a Cinderella thing.
She unties the yarn from his shoes, retie-ing it around her pinky. Producing a little pair of golden scissors from her arm cuff, she cuts the extra yarn, leaving her and Theo each with a piece tied around their fingers.
ARIA
I meant what I said last night, Theo. I saw you in my dreams. A red thread connected our souls halfway around the world, and I knew that someday we would meet. Keep this bit of thread on your finger and remember that bond. Let it keep you from getting lost in your own head, and find me wherever you go.
Theo feels the tightness of the thread. The walls recede, and the panic subsides, and the implications of last night comes flooding back. He jumps up, grabs Aria, and twirls her around in a dance.
THEO
Goddamn! I’ve got superpowers!!
Russ’ Journal
I think it’s funny that all us city kids owe our good time to a plant from the middle of the jungle. We all know it as Rust, but that’s really just the pollen of the Vermillion plant. I’ve been sending my Chrome out looking for it, with help from Aria and enough Rust to see through time, and I think there’s some in Mexico, somewhere. Deadalus says it came to earth on the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs, but he’s probably being a drama queen. If you get him high he’ll tell you all about this magic plant, and how it’s tied in with human evolution. Landing in various parts of the world, its discovery was tied to massive leaps in the cultures that found it. The Maya, the Greeks, the Japanese. You can see evidence of its influence in ancient monuments like Stonehenge, the Great Pyramids, the Coliseum, and the Black Stone of Mecca. Why do you think all these things are perfectly round, triangular or circular?
Vermillion’s a weird little plant— part succulent, part fungus. Instead of being drown to sunlight, it leans toward sound, especially if that sound is loud and has a beat. And since Vermillion reacts to music, so does Rust. It used to be plentiful too, but now I think it’s mostly all gone. Man, that OG Rust was so much better than the stepped on, synthetic shit we’ve all been doing lately. Who knows where they get it.
But the thing even the average Broken Land-er doesn’t know is the real secret of this little alien flora. An even stronger drug, Aurum, can be made from Vermillion, and it’s the secret of our powers. Deadalus brought back enough from his last world tour to help the rest of The Alchemy enter “the black,” and he’s trying hard to find a way to make enough to mend all of the Broken someday.
Man, I sound like a Wikipedia entry. “Secret Drugs and their Origins”. But I had to get some of this info out of my head. My visions show me that something really awful is gonna happen, and I don’t want this stuff to be forgotten. I met this kid at GREED this week, total square, who I could swear was “in the red.” There’s definitely something special about him. So who knows? There might be a hope for us yet.