As the flat world grew larger and larger Larry grew anxious, turned into a fish returning to an ocean. His skin itched. His insides urged to take a breath of air, touch solid ground, get back to the medium in which he was accustomed to exist. He had little idea that during his absence Paradise had changed much more than he might have imagined.
When he saw the uniform shroud of clouds covering the city through which nothing could be seen, he realized that down below terrible surprises awaited him. Icicle and the Pyramid in the central square used to piece clouds no matter how high they had gathered. Neither of them did. He had no idea for how long he had been absent – for a couple of days, a week, a month, a year or more? His experiences in the Sun had happened outside the borders of time and space. He returned from a dream which had lasted for an undefined amount of time.
As the shuttle began its descent it vibrated. Larry stood in the center of the shuttle with his legs and arms spread, clenching the chair railings with his hands. Upon piercing the atmosphere the shuttle steadied and continuously slowed down but nevertheless, it was evident that it would not land smoothly. That did not bother Larry. This impact will be only a trickle compared to what he had experienced on the Sun.
The moment the shuttle pierced the cloud cover at an acute angle, Larry shuddered. There was little difference from what he had seen from above. Black, grey and white everywhere – the city itself had become a dull uniform cloud; all beauty had vanished, even the air carried an alien, foul sensation as it entered his lungs. This was Paradise no more but something else, something else entirely. That statue erected in the place of three deleted central giants bothered Larry. He noticed it halfway to the ground and his eyes did not let go of it. It was his image. Why would anyone make such despicable mockery out of his image?
A giant, mangled, empty soda can slammed into the ground and bounced off and flew into the deformed shapes ahead. From the moment of impact, the shuttle continued its journey on its own because Larry left it the moment it touched the ground for the first time and produced a hollow crater. Even though it should have been the end of spring, the air was damp and cold. There was no sign of sun from behind the shroud stretching to the horizon.
Larry glanced at himself. He was naked. He scolded himself. Such an inadequate appearance for a meeting with his enemies. The ground under his feet stirred. A dust cloud rose up from beneath him and surrounded up to his neck. As it stuck on Larry's body it became a second skin which covered his nakedness forming a flexible jumpsuit of gunmetal gray leaving only his head exposed.
Above the edge of crater, he saw the horrible statue in the distance. Buildings that stood in between the statue and him and all around the crater had been touched by a finger of plague – they were not dead yet but appeared as dying. It saddened him because this world felt like a part of his body now – a skin surrounding his skin but this body was currently imprisoned dressed in ugly, oversized, twisted, untasteful William's clothing. But not all was lost. He focused on the closest structure – a melted rectangular box with a dozen caves in places where its windows should have been. It began to change. It took him a minute but it changed and gained a more adequate shape – a lime apartment building with transparent greenish windows. It was the first of many. If necessary he would restore them all. What William had done with the Paradise – how he twisted it and turned it inside out was cute but at the same time meaningless. In a week or two Larry would restore it to its former appearance.
But it would have to wait. First, he had to deal with the statue. Then he would search for William and only when the abomination and Jessie are dealt with would he go back to reconstruction. Larry kicked off from the ground and leaped into the air. He landed at the edge of the central square. One leap more and he was in front of the statue staring it into the eyes. Unexpectedly, shivers ran through his entire body. The eyes were almost alive, no they were something more. They stared into him, through his appearance, through his skin and delved into his depths, they almost talked to him, whispered, "I am you. This is who you truly are."
YOU ARE READING
Escape from Paradise
Science FictionLarry Smith is a famous artist living a careless life in the world of Paradise, a wonderful and beautiful place in which disease, sickness, aging, or death does not exist, a place where beauty flourishes, where robots do all the work and everyone is...