The Whole World in Shards

By Ben Darrow

Merinel embarks on a journey across the Great Ship's patchwork of functional outposts and fallow settlements in search of a therapy for her husband's fractured persona.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ben Darrow
• Release date: Aug 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476150789

Book preview

The Whole World In Shards

Ben Darrow

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Ben Darrow

Merinel closed her eyes as an imaginary breeze wafted over her, filling her nostrils with a vaguely familiar floral scent.

What was that? she asked.

An attempt to promote tranquility, replied the quicksilver dove. The aroma is lilac. Your mother cultivated this plant in her garden.

I had forgotten, replied Merinel. I’m impressed that you knew that. That was before you arrived.

Many events in the Dish were recorded, even in the absence of a unifying intelligence.

So you get to remember the bad old days as well. Merinel took a deep breath, letting wisps of memory emerge in response to the scent. We tore up that garden during a drought. It was the first time I remember seeing my mother cry.

The aroma was gone in an instant. I apologize. I should have anticipated the association.

Merinel shrugged. It hardly matters now. How much longer?

As a matter of fact, my preparations are complete. You may open your eyes.

Merinel did so, and surveyed the place the Tenbor Entity had created for her. She sat on a circular marble bench, in the center of a ring of ivory portals. Each portal was filled with water, creating an upright reflecting pool. Merinel peered into the nearest, but was unable to see through to the bottom, if one existed. The bench and portals stood atop a small hill, which in turn arose from the interior surface of an immense hollow sphere. The walls of the sphere were carpeted with thick sea-green grass, which rippled in complex patterns. A miniature sun danced about in the sphere’s center, always avoiding her direct gaze.

Each portal contains a reflection, explained the Entity. Each reflection is intended to embody a specific portion of your persona: a subself. When complete, the chorus of subselves will allow you to elucidate your thoughts and emotions in greater detail than otherwise possible.

That sounds vaguely like a mental illness.

Rest assured, I will not allow the procedure to give rise to a dysfunction. The subselves will only remain while I am present, although the drives and attitudes they represent will always be with you.

Very well, said Merinel. Let’s meet my avatars. She rose and stepped before the nearest portal.

The standing water trembled, and her reflection within it altered, until she was looking at herself as a little girl.

The proverbial Inner Child, said the Entity, embodying desires that persist throughout life: to be secure, to be loved, and if at all possible, to be spoiled.

Merinel smiled at her young alter ego. Well, little one, she asked, how are we doing on that score?

You spend all of your time looking after Tench and Byx, the child accused her. Who looks after me?

I look after you. I look after myself.

You do a very poor job, the child pouted.

Merinel pursed her lips. So far, I am not finding this exercise to be a source of renewed inner strength, she informed the Entity.

Let us hear from another voice, the Entity said. Stand before the next portal.

Merinel did so, and again her reflection altered, holding a ewer of flowing water in its arms.

We might refer to her as the Provider, suggested the Entity. She represents your devotion to your loved ones.

Be strong, whispered the Provider. No sacrifice is too great.

She counsels strength, and she has much strength to offer you, said the Entity, but she will not recognize your limits. She will gladly accept martyrdom.

My love can surmount any obstacle, insisted the Provider.

A compelling sentiment, although history abounds with counterexamples, observed the Entity.

No matter, stated the Provider. No woman has ever loved as I have loved.

I wish I shared her faith, sighed Merinel.

You do, replied the Entity, but that faith is tempered by more rational voices. Look into the next portal.

Merinel’s third reflection wavered before her, resolving into a marble statue of herself.

Some might call her the Fatalist, said the Entity. I prefer the term Stoic.

If you try to control events, they will control you, the statue said. By accepting them, you remain your own master. Do not squander your passion on anxiety or regret.

Not a terribly uplifting message, remarked Merinel.

The Stoic prizes serenity over zeal, said the Entity. Let us explore a more volatile subself next.

Merinel stepped before the fourth portal, and the reflection within blossomed into a fantasy: a youthful, achingly beautiful variation of her face and figure.

What in the … Tenbor, is this a joke?

Not in the slightest. The Sensualist represents the interface between mind and body; the transformation of the animal drives into aesthetic urges. The Sensualist lives to experience beauty.

She looks like a refugee from the private Verchspace of an adolescent boy.

The Sensualist smiled sadly. Even here, you try to stifle me, she said. You dismiss me, so that I will not rail against the grey emptiness of your life. But I will not be silenced. I am woven into you.

Grey emptiness? asked Merinel. Isn’t that a bit melodramatic?

You have not been touched for more than a year. You smolder in the ashes of your marriage bed.

So that’s it, said Merinel. I had a feeling you weren’t all about sunsets and jazz.

The Entity gave an embarrassed coo. Physical sensations are well within the Sensualist’s purview.

Well, I’m sorry to disappoint her, but there’s not much I can do about it.

I, too, lament Tench’s ailment, replied the Sensualist. But he is not the only man I favor. Shall I recite you a list?

A sourceless wind rose up around Merinel, agitating the stately rhythms of the rippling grass. The tiny sun took on a reddish tinge.

She is foolish, warned the Stoic.

She is selfish, added the Provider.

She’s scary, the Child whimpered.

Interesting, noted the Entity. A conflict. My understanding is that these events give rise to stress and confusion. Is this why you sought my help?

Merinel stared into the Sensualist’s impossibly luminous eyes a moment longer. That’s enough, she informed the Entity. Please send them away.

The water in each portal burst into mist and drifted up towards the miniature sun. I can see that the exercise caused you emotional distress, the Entity said. Please accept my apologies. Subselves are an important part of my cognition; it is a subself through which I speak to you even now. I thought I could make the concept useful to you as well. Perhaps the attempt was ill-considered.

Not at all, replied Merinel. If anything, it was too successful. She shook her head, clearing it of the Sensualist’s words before they could take root in her imagination. Let’s leave my mental health aside for a moment. Let’s talk more about Tench.

The quicksilver dove alighted on Merinel’s shoulder, burying its head in her hair.

I cannot adequately express my sorrow over what Tench inflicted upon himself in order to save me, the Entity said, nor my regret concerning my inability to help him recover.

Merinel stroked the dove’s wings, sending ripples through its liquid body. Now, now, she said. Do not squander your passion on anxiety or regret.

The dove raised its head. I appreciate your humor. Were I biological, I would laugh.

Well then, having theoretically raised your spirits, I want to discuss Tench’s treatment options again.

The situation is unchanged. All reasonable therapies have been attempted. The wisest course of action is to wait.

I know. I now want to discuss unreasonable therapies, and the second-wisest course of action.

Very well. The Entity caused an image to appear before her, a dense whorl of scarlet and cobalt teardrops. This is a symbol of mental health among the V’tang, renowned for their understanding of the mind. It is also the typical manifestation of the Szerar Entity, recognized throughout the Ship as a genius in matters of mental dysfunction.

Merinel’s breath caught in her throat. Why wasn’t this brought to my attention earlier? she demanded.

Two reasons. First of all, the Szerar Entity cannot provide treatment over a simple Verch connection. Tench would have to use a dedicated node, necessitating a journey across – or though – the Ship, with all the attendant risks. An image of the ship appeared, with a pulsing red dot indicating the