All those hours scrubbing tanks, feeding fish, and pulling tentacles from another dimension, and I still had not used the Butter Mouse machine.
Link frowned when I asked his permission.
‘To be honest I thought you had a go on your first day,’ he said. ‘Most of our temps take fifty goes or more. Mr Chamson says it gets the brain focused on sealife. Take some time off this afternoon to use if you like.’
This was not quite what I had in mind.
My request was to wait until the moon was out, and simulate when Deni and I sat up on the tank during our night shifts. An inner trip with glowing animals for guardians.
After the last of the punters flew on the bus home, I went over to 1619, and sat cross legged on the floor near the machine. Out popped the blocky controller. With a few taps on a series of buttons the helmet appears. The straps fit in tight hugs around my skull, and the shades cast an even darker gloom over the midnight sky.
The Butter Mouse glided round her tank, her two fins perfect symmetrical reflections of each other. She will not be here for much longer. I would have watched her swim until sunrise, and headed home without regret.
Another button press called her across the cold water of her tank. She swam closer, and her whole frame covered the screen in a sea of golden skin.
And then under the shades 1619 melted away.
I was looking at some kind of structure. Close to a triangle, but in three dimensions. A pyramid. The outside was a rough beige stone, leading up to a golden top.
Three figures leaned against the stone, dressed in white wavy clothing that hid most of their frame. From the neck down they might have been someone I knew. But a pair of pointed ears sat on top of their head, and grey fur covered their faces. Small mouths spoke silent words. Round noses like wrinkled olives twitched in the air.
But what was most odd was that this was not like watching a screen, or even experience a dream either live, or thinking back the next morning. This was like someone showing an image to me. Like something invisible holding up a moving painting. I understood this was not a product limited to within my brain, but a glance at something real, and astonishingly far away.
Then I was on the floor, looking up at the stars, and the lights of the city. The Butter Mouse swam again in her perfect circles.
I tried to get the tape afterwards. But out popped the scrap end signaling today’s footage, and nothing more.
Took a late bus home, and thought about the trio against the pyramid. Once again my world felt like a wrapped up box, the outside so close, and yet totally hidden.
Perhaps I should have done this months ago.
Clip: Something walking. That giant sea creature is back, as is the dolphin building. An office maybe? A venue? I dream of walking this city at night.