Day 23: Meet [Redacted] (46,127 words)

It almost feels pointless to post an excerpt 10,000 after the last one. No one knows what is happening in my novel!

I've been building up to this moment where almost all the characters are together in one place for a big confrontation. I thought that this would happen much earlier in the novel, but I screwed around so much that now it has to be the climax and ending.

I'll post a few little things, sticking with one story line
- one is a shout out to Nathan's idea of the redacted name tag.

The technician still did not acknowledge him but did point to a name tag on his chest that said only “Chip.” Everything else had been redacted.

“Nice to meet you Chip,” Gordon said. “That’s some name your parents gave you. Is it meant to reflect that you’re a ‘chip off the old block’? Or perhaps, that you were born with a chip on your shoulder? Or did your parents meet at a chip truck and they wanted to celebrate that fact in the name of their first born? Are you a chip of ice? A chocolate chip? A wannabe “chip”indale dancer?”

Chip grunted, “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

Gordon felt it was a small victory that he’d gotten a response. “It’s been said, Chip.”

“Chip’s not my name,” said that technician. “It’s my department.”

“You’re in the Chip Department?” asked Gordon, puzzled. “What does the Chip Department do?”

“None of your business.”

“So what’s you’re name then, if it’s not Chip?” Gordon queried.

“It’s redacted,” responded the technician.

***

And then later on ...

Next, [Redacted] applied a brown antiseptic liquid that felt cold and foreboding on Gordon’s skin.

“Good thing you’re taking care to prevent infection as you torture me,” he quipped, trying but failing to seem nonchalant. “Perhaps you could also administer anesthesia to make sure I don’t feel any pain?”

“This lotion won’t prevent infection,” answered [Redacted] matter of factly. “It helps to conduct the signal more efficiently.”

“Don’t speak to the subject,” snapped Jorn.

“Sorry, sir,” said [Redacted], chastened. He continued silently with his work, turning to the tray and picking up the circle of spiked metal. “Shall I fasten the portal now?” he asked Jorn who was watching with a mounting air of excitement.

“This is a momentous occasion, Dr. Chip!” crowed Jorn. “We must properly mark the occasion.” He strode over to the door and threw it open. “Get me some Pabst Blue Ribbon, STAT. And let’s move the subject closer to the new server. I want to see this baby work!”

The workers in the grey lab coats leapt into action at Jorn’s instruction, some scrambling to make room to move the hospital bed threw the narrow doorway while others began typing furious commands on the computers.

[Redacted] stood by Gordon, preparing to assist with the relocation. “Wait,” said Gordon, “You’re name really is Chip. What was with all the misdirection before?”

As always, Dr. Chip remained impassive. He looked ready to ignore the question. He resisted for a moment but he could not seem to stop himself from answering Gordon. “It wasn’t misdirection. I really do work in the Chip Department and my name has really been redacted from my identification tag. It is an unhappy coincidence that my name and my department are the same. It has led to a lot of razzing by my friends, family and co-workers. To add insult to injury, my brother’s name is Chap. I’ve never forgiven my parents for giving me the worse of two very similar names. I’m sure you can understand why I would keep that information to myself.”

“Wow, your parents are dicks,” said Gordon sympathetically.

“Yeah, they really are,” responded Dr. Chip.

*****

And finally, a little bit more from the Gordon storyline:

At first, Gordon felt nothing. Then, he was no longer only him. He was still him, but he was also someone else with many bodies. He could feel the other consciousness, knew it was the mind of Security and that he could speak to it. That it could speak to him.

I will know all, said the voice of Security in his head. It is pointless to fight our power.

On the bed, Gordon twitched and moaned. He appeared unconscious.

Interesting. We know now that you are not the leader. That there is no single piano man. You tricked us, but for nothing. You know enough to lead us to more. In fact, we have more in our grasp right now. Several seconds passed as Gordon felt Security digging deeper, learning more. Why do you have so many women in charge? That is foolish to trust in a weaker and hysterical sex.

Gordon felt the presence of his mothers with him. Whispering to him to hold on, to fight back. You believe in the superiority of men and of whiteness because that is convenient for you. It allows you to justify the oppression of others.

Security laughed, The people who hold that our culture is an oppressive, white supremacist patriarchy, they don’t want to admit that the current hierarchy might be predicated on competence.

It isn’t based on competence. It is based on power that some have taken for themselves and the force they use to maintain it. You’ve worked closely with Doug Ford. You can’t honestly believe that he holds power because of his competence. The man is a cruel imbecile. Gordon’s mind was expanding as he truly saw the lazy and inconsistent thinking, rarely challenged, that allowed mediocre white men to believe that they had earned all the privileges they enjoy.

Gordon could also feel that Security’s thoughts were becoming confused. The simple act of pointing out that Doug Ford was a stupid and undeserving leader had laid bare the cracks in the foundation of Security’s world view.

Security countered. Violent attacks by men are what happen when men do not have partners. Society needs to work to make sure that those men are married. The cure for violence is enforced monogamy. Half the men fail and no one care about the men who fail.

Gordon replied. There is so much wrong with what you just thought, but I’ll try my best to reply. First of all, men do not have a right to women’s bodies and it is only because they think that they do that they could engage in violence to enforce that right. So teaching men to respect women, indeed to respect and value all life, would be a far more effective way to end violence. Second, marriage is not a requirement in order to have a partner. Third, enforced monogamy IS violence. You’re talking about sexual slavery. It is truly fucked that you consider women’s lives to be so worthless that you can’t even recognize enforced monogamy as violence. Fourth, not all men want female partners, just want to point out that there is also some heterosexism going on with that statement. Fifth, literally your entire social structure is designed to support male power. All you care about is men who fail. And most men who fail, fail up with their mediocrity rewarded. So yeah, men are doing alright, stop whining about how unfairly you are being treated. Finally, fuck off.

Security’s mind was swirling, panicked. It makes sense that a witch lives in a swamp.

I have no idea what you mean.

Security seemed to draw some confidence from Gordon’s confusion. Right. That’s right. You don’t know. It’s because those things hang together at a very deep level. Right. Yeah. And it makes sense that an old king lives in a dessicated tower.

What the hell are you saying? I understand each word individually, but when you put them together into sentences, they don’t make any sense.

Security was on the defensive again. Yeah, it does. Witches just don’t exist the way you think they exist. They certainly exist. You may say, well dragons don’t exist.

Yes, I do say that.

They do – the category predator and the category dragon are the same category. It absolutely exists. It’s a superordinate category. It exists absolutely more than anything else. In fact, it really exists.

Gordon delivered the final blow. Saying that there is a category of predators is absolutely not the same as dragons existing.

Security said, Shit, you’re right, and Gordon felt something break.