42 - A Clockwork Hash (3)

I don't make the mental connection until a few days later, when I'm in the club room, staring at the office badge of the fox girl.

(… It's not just me. I've caught the others staring at those unexplained artifacts from time to time. The diplomas. The witch's hat. …)

"Isn't this exactly what we're going through??" I ask the others. "… Lumo's story. Let's just admit it, guys. We're missing huge chunks of our memory."

I see everyone shift uncomfortably in their seats. Nobody wants to admit it, nobody wants to talk about it. But we all know it's true.

We don't understand exactly what it is we don't know—but we all know something's not right. … And that it has something to do with all those artifacts left in our club room.

I explain to everyone Lumo's role in her own story.

"… If we can just calculate the correct checksum—then we can remember. Or at least, get Lumo to remember for us."

The others express their collective skepticism, with hesitant glances and reserved murmurs.

"Don't you see!?" I insist. "Lumo is the key to all this!!!"

I grab Lumo (… oh yeah, I probably shoulda mentioned, she's hanging out with us in the club room) and turn her around. I point to her wind-up key, and shout, "Get it!? The 'key' to all this!?" Then I hold up a custom-printed giant arrow, like the kind down-on-their-luck, take-any-job-because-I-need-to-pay-rent characters in a movie spin around outside a furniture store to show how close to rock-bottom they are, and hold it up next to Lumo's key. "… KEY!!!"

Valerie frowns. "… You were just giving me shit about puns a few weeks ago."

"It's unironically okay when I do it."

Alex, with his signature 'um, ack-shew-ally' pose: "While I agree with Odd-kun that puns are the lowest form of humor, and its proponents should be silenced forever—"

Me: "(… I didn't—… That's not really what I said.)"

"—there is the rare pun that works. Like in Ulysses, when Stephen's thinking about the money he owes AE. … 'AEIOU'."

Me, waving Alex off dismissively: "Yes, yes—in the Scylla and Charybdis episode. Where they hang out in the library and talk about Shakespeare. Yes, we're all quite familiar."

(Alex, seemingly dismayed: "… Oh. Oh, you know what I'm actually talking about."

Me: "Why do you seem saddened by that? …")

Valerie: "Oh! Are we talking 'bout the chapter where Stephen expounds on his theory where he proves by algebra that Hamlet is the ghost of his own father!?"

Alex: "(Y-you too …?)"

Sunny: "Ah, yes—but then Stephen compares his own articulation of said theory to the act of a rude bodily function! Ha ha ha! Ulysses is such a silly, funny novel. It's a relaxing, light read."

Alex: "(…)"

Moeka: "'Agenbite of inwit'! 'Agenbite of inwit'!"

Alex: "(Even Moeka!? … Come on, that's a little hard to swallow …)"

Valerie, paraphrasingly: "Don't forget, '… Me! … That was your contribution to literature!'"

And then we all explode in laughter at the roasting of Malachi Mulligan, two dactyls, except for Alex, who sulks in the corner.

Me, wiping a tear from my eye: "Okay, okay, no seriously, that was really funny and all, and exceedingly plot-relevant, but seriously though—we can use Lumo to run simulations to get a matching checksum."

Alex points out that we need a checksum value, first.

"… We need a checksum value, first," he says. (See?) "… And that's even assuming this even works. I mean, Lumo's from what is clearly a very soft sci-fi story …"

I shrug. "Point Parallax shit. Anything's possible."

Anyway, for the next week or so, the IWC dedicates our efforts to this task.

Quest #1 - Generate a hash checksum.

Status: Complete

Report: Well, we don't have any 'Technocrats' constantly monitoring the current status of Point Parallax, so … we kinda just settle for the next best thing. Basically, we got just picked Scr*bble tiles out of a hat.

Result: Checksum obtained - "ODD KUN IS A BITCH"

Quest #2 - Find a Retro Computer

Status: Complete

Report: Lumo needs a very specific CPU architecture to help run her simulations. Apparently that was one of the set-pieces in her story: performing a heist on a retro computer museum to find the very obscure and specific computer she needs. … Well, luckily for us, in Point Parallax, we can find that pretty easily. We just went to the same place Alex went to, to get his Pl*ySt*tion2. (Where is that, exactly, you ask? Ha ha ha Reader, you're so funny.)

Edit1 (Alex): Odd-kun, can you take that last part out? No parenthetical asides in the quests reports.

Edit2 (Odd-kun): Lol no

Result: El. Psy. Kongroo.

Edit1 (Valerie): Can you take your quest logs seriously

Edit2 (Odd-kun): Lol no

Edit3 (Moeka): moeka

Quest #3 - Thank Lumo Somehow

Status: Not yet completed

…

"That's basically it," I say. "All that's left is to think of a way to thank Lumo, after it's all over."

"Has she expressed what she wants? I thought that's why fictional characters end up in Point Parallax—they have some kinda wish they want to make come true," says Alex. "Isn't that how it works?"

"I, uh … I actually dunno. … Is it? Jessica never really elaborated on that part."

The retro computer is plugged in, and running on the club room table. The old fans whirring, the hard drive inside clicking. Green text on a black screen. No UI, just a console prompt.

By the window, Lumo is playing with Moeka.

Me: "She seems happy that Moeka isn't afraid of her anymore."

"How can you tell?" says Valerie. "She has the same blank expression on her face all the time."

… Which isn't wrong, but I feel like I've gotten to know Lumo pretty well by now. And as I watch her by the window, the afternoon sun shining down on her, I can't but smile a bit.

"… I just can," I finally say. "We'll do something nice for Lumo afterward. I think I have an idea of what she wants."

*

A little later, Lumo plugs herself into the computer.

A thick cable connecting the pizza-box shaped all-in-one unit, its plastic white interior yellowed from age, to Lumo, via a port in the nape of her neck.

"S-sorry," I say, moving her hair out of the way, to expose the port.

"… No need … to apologize … Odd-kun," she says, gently.

Then we watch as Lumo types into the console. Her fingers moving too fast for us to comprehend.

(I almost want to ask why she's typing manually, when it seems more efficient for her to just directly interface through the cable. … But I think she wants to show off, to be honest.)

We, the club members, exchange uncertain looks.

… We have no idea if this will even work.

I mean, it'd be crazy if it did, right?

Considering we pulled our 'checksum' out of a hat. … Literally.

But soon it doesn't matter, as we have more important things to worry about, as Lumo begins to, uhh …

Her head begins to smoke.

She starts spasming uncontrollably.

"Turn it off!" I shout. "Unplug her!"

Alex tries, but pulls his hand back as a massive shock jolts him.

Valerie tries to remove the cable from Lumo's neck, but it's too hot to touch, and she burns her hand.

The club room is filled with a strange humming sound, that rises in pitch.

Higher, higher, until—…

—until everything turns white.