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by Andy Oldfield
Science Fiction, 13 pages.
Originally Published in Interzone, 1995
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Benno could still taste the bitter residues of anxiety in his mouth. The unprovoked attack by a pair of King Cobras had shaken him and he still wasn’t sure whether he was feeling dizzy because of the shock or the virtual neurotoxins.
He took a deep breath, the air was dry and hot but pleasant. It was gratifying to stop for a rest; a shame there was no bar or even a spring or pool, but you can’t have everything. At least the scenery was good – the clusters of trees around the ruined temple were pretty, and the temple itself had a ramshackle charm even if the blue-painted corrugated-iron roof had fallen off and decapitated the smiling Buddha figure inside. The head lay in the sandy dust beaming as though it had suffered no adversity. Benno could feel his pulse slowing to normal. He considered the Buddha. It did look remarkably like Fat Sid. Or maybe it was the other way round.
He turned his attention to the trees. He thought he’d had it rough, but his heart went out to the animal up the nearest tree, silhouetted against the bright tropical sun. It was just pitiful. Scarcely enough strength left in its broken claws to hang on with. It wasn’t quite bald, a few tufts of hair were left, but most of its skin was covered with tumors and crusty green-brown scabs which leaked blood and pus where the wretched thing had been scratching itself. Its large, sad eyes were inflamed and rheumy. It snuffled and dribbled at the corner of its mouth.
“A gremlin,” he muttered.
Fat Sid tutted. “No. It’s an arboreal marsupial... Koala.”
“With a pretty hideous STD virus.” Benno glanced at the purulent red genitals.
“Randy little marsupials, Koalas. Cute when they’re clean though.”
Benno shrugged. It was difficult to envisage it as anything other than a lump of offal barely clinging to a branch in a tree. Cute? It didn’t even look as though it was properly alive anymore – more like it was an advanced state of decomposition. He squinted at the messy lump, as if that would help it resolve into a cute little furball. He pulled out his medic-pouch and started reading labels to see if he had anything which might help.
“Don’t waste your time, the stuff in there’s mostly placebo anyhow. Eyes front,” said Fat Sid, clicking his fingers. A set of menu icons materialized. Fat Sid pointed at a clock which dropped down a sub menu for controling temporal speed and direction. He altered the parameters and the menus disappeared.
Benno stared at the Koala. It was like watching a time-lapse video in reverse. Mangy claws grew whole, long and strong. Ulcerous flesh gave way to clean healthy skin covered with thick greyish fur. Eyes sparkled wholesomely. Then a visual jolt into real time and there was the pretty little thing exuding sweetness as it slowly reached out for a clump of leaves, put them into its mouth and slowly and deliberately chewed.
“Awgh,” said Benno. “It’s cute as hell. I love it.”
The Koala stopped in mid-chew and spat out the greenery.
“It’s off its food,” concern tinged Benno’s voice.
Fat Sid looked at the tree. “Sacrilegious critter,” he muttered. “It’s supposed to live only on eucalyptus trees.”
“So?”
“The little bugger’s up a bo tree.”
“And that’s an acquired taste?”
“Acquired taste, nothing,” fumed Fat Sid. “It’s a holy tree. It’s the tree the Lord Buddha got enlightenment sitting under.”
“Oh right. You’re into that. Sorry, I forgot. Still it’s good of you to heal him.”
“Isn’t really cleaned up, I just wound it back a bit into a different time slot. Virus is still in its cells, replicating away.” Fat Sid sat in the sparse shade of the bo tree and sulked. Sunlight glinted off the moist baldness of his head. He closed his eyes, annoyance drifting into beatific detachment, the rolls of fat on his jowls casting sharp shadows down his cheeks and neck. Little beads of sweat stood out on his naked chest and headed for his ample cleavage. Above him the Koala sniffed suspiciously at another bunch of leaves it had picked.
Benno shook his head. “OK it may be a holy tree, but it’s not as if it’s a really real bo tree.”
Fat Sid opened one eye. “And I’m not a really real Buddha either huh?”
“I dunno. Who’s to say?”
“Exactly.”
“But I promise I’ll read up on it when I get home.”
“Is that a gentle hint?” Fat Sid opened the other eye. “It’s a good one. I pledged I’d get you back. So let’s hit out.”
Benno held out a hand for the saffron loin-clothed figure and helped him to his feet. Fat Sid shielded his eyes against the sunlight, sniffed the air like a mongrel in search of a butcher’s shop or a really interesting lamppost and nodded past the bo tree towards a line of blue-grey hills which shimmered in the middle-distance haze.
“Why does it have to be so far? It’s only a virtual landscape,” Benno grumbled.
“It’s like the ma -- [End of Preview.]