Tales Between the Lines

IV.5 The Meme

And then he willed some more. Just for the fun of it. A few flowers wouldn't hurt. And maybe a new coat of paint? And... chocolate. There was never enough chocolate on deep space missions. Suddenly, his ruined Emmental cheese popped up before his mind's eye, and he lost it for a moment.

With this tiny glitch, Cap's imagination reached the limit of its capabilities for a given day. He opened his eyes, only now realising he'd squeezed them tight during the process of willing.

Cap found himself sitting in a grassy meadow, speckled with colourful flowers. They grew out of a brown mass exuding a certain, distinctive, unforgettable smell. A glance around confirmed he was still—or again—in the storeroom of his ship. Handle and body of his WormJet stuck out of a bunch of well-fertilised tulips. The weapon seemed to be thoroughly fused into the leak. Insofar, all the concentrated willing had done some good.

Speaking of it, the room was filled with nice, oxygen-rich, breathable air. Cap smiled, satisfied with his elaborate thought-work. He might have overdone it with the wall paintings, though. The hexagonal storeroom resembled a kindergarten instead of an official rim patrol scout ship's interior. Especially the pink unicorns crossing a rainbow bridge made Cap wonder. Was this really the product of his phantasy and unconscious wishing?

Well, there was nothing to be done about the unicorns and the tiny flying dragonettes right now. Besides, they were only painted. At least the unicorns.

He avoided studying the disturbing walls any longer, sure it was high time to check on First and Eve.

Cap pulled himself upright on the WormJet's handle and picked his way to the door, careful not to trample the flowers. Maybe they should turn this room into a gardening area?

Climbing upwards through the miraculously restored spa and Turkish bath, Cap registered a brand new jacuzzi in shades of light blue and mint, with the addition of an extensive gym room. Surprised, he stopped in his tracks. What was the gym for? Neither he nor First were the sportsy types.

Cap shook his head while he continued to the larder, developing nagging doubts about the sanity of his unconsciousness.

But these doubts evaporated as his stood before a room reminiscent of a Swiss cheese cave cellar, filled with dozens of wheels of the finest Emmental cheese. Cap's mouth watered, and pride in his glorious deed of will made him push out his chest.

When he strutted into the vortex room though, his newfound optimism deflated like a balloon pricked by a needle.

Where the vortex used to be, First and Eve's avatar sat on a green garden bench, holding hands and nibbling chocolate bars. A whole basket of Cap's favourite chocolate candy stood in front of them, on the beach of the central island in the room-sized duck pond. Waterlilies and reeds swayed in the light air current from the vent system, and a happy, yellow rubber duck floated on the rippled surface.

The dreamy look on the faces of his crew left no doubt that the current situation was still not as normal as he'd willed it.

The scene was peaceful, pleasant, and calming. The pond, the waterlilies, and the chocolate. Yet it was all wrong. Duck had said that this was a world of his own volition, that he could will it to be whichever way he wanted. Yet it had rainbows and unicorns in it.

He was Cap, the most kickass captain ever running a ship at the rim. His world had no room for rainbows, and even less for unicorns.

He looked at the bird bobbing in the water. "Duck?"

"Yes, Cap?"

"You said you're a paras... a symbiont, didn't you?"

"Yes, Cap."

"Symbiosis means that both sides get something out of the relationship, right?"

"Yes..." Duck tilted its head on its rubbery neck.

"So, what we get..." He moved a hand to encompass Eve, First and himself. "Is this world of... bliss and unicorns. Right?"

"Right, Cap."

"And what do you get out of this?"

"Um..." Duck paddled backwards a bit, making Cap wonder how something without feet could paddle so convincingly. "You see... I'm a meme."

"A meme?"

"Yeah, something that runs on other creatures' brain power."

Cap scratched his beard.

"You see, I'm like a creed or a political belief, Cap."

Cap scratched his beard some more.

"Or a joke. What is a joke to you?"

"A joke?" Cap was at a loss. "It's a funny story you tell someone, and that person tells it another one, and so on."

"Very good," Duck said, reminding him of his teacher in primary school.* "So, you see. Jokes are like living creatures. They reproduce by hopping from one mind to another. And the good ones are able to adapt... to new languages, to new social contexts."

"But..." Cap frowned, thinking back to biology lessons he had had ages ago. The first thing coming to his mind was dissecting that frog, which had been loads of fun, but then he remembered something else. "Don't living creatures have meta... metabolisms. They eat stuff, digest it, and turn it to... turd? They need energy, after all, fuel, like a spaceship."

"Right again, Cap. And that's where you come on. Some memes, such as me, have evolved so far that we're even able to hop species' boundaries. But we still need something to run on. And you're our... fuel, as you would say."

Cap didn't like this thought one bit. "But fuel... it tends to deplete itself when it's used, doesn't it? Tanks run dry when you fly far enough."

"Yes, but... you see... that's a really slow process. No need to worry about it. Why don't you will something cute. You could will a chocolate bunny, or... a chocolate duck, maybe?"

Cap glowered at Duck. He didn't like this one bit. And he still was miffed about being bereaved of his smut and dirt.

He had to do something.

———
* Not that Cap had often been on the receiving end of a "very good"—the words that the teacher directed at him were more along the lines of "are you sure?"