Week One in Alcatraz
It was the seventh day of my prison sentence. The facility I’d dubbed Alcatraz felt less like a penitentiary and more like a cosmic containment camp, so they skipped the usual morning roll calls. Instead, robots patrolled the halls, sorting the present from the vanished and the incurably insane. The missing were hunted down. The mad were handed over to the guards for a thorough beating.
After three days of observation, I finally understood the purpose behind the violence. The beatings only relieved the madness temporarily, but they did relieve it. True physical therapy, administered with fists.
Prisoner 888888, confirmed in cell. Status?
“Fine.”
Status: normal.
A robot shaped like an observatory dome scurried past on tiny wheels. Once enough time had passed, the guards opened the cells of those still sane. The daily routine here began the same way every morning: running.
“A healthy mind lives in a healthy body! Everyone, fifty laps around the yard! Move!”
“Fifty laps? That’s insane!”
“What, you don’t want to rejoin society, inmate?”
The instructors shouted and beat the stragglers to keep everyone moving. We had no choice but to run until our lungs burned. We hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet, and my stomach was already threatening mutiny. Still, one girl sprinted like a machine.
“Who the hell is that girl?”
The one locked in the cell next to mine was the standout. She looked about my age and always carried heavy dark circles under her eyes. Her delicate appearance was deceptive—her stamina was downright filthy. And despite the decadent aura, she was stunningly beautiful. Half the men in the yard were already fantasizing about her.
“Whoa, look at those bouncing assets.”
“Just one touch. That’s all I’m asking.”
Not their hearts, then. Their lower instincts.
“…Disgusting perverts.”
The girl clicked her tongue and scowled. She reminded me of someone who had Rustilla’s athleticism mixed with Zernya’s sharp tongue.
She finished the fifty laps first, black hair clinging to her shoulders as she let out a long sigh. I came in second. After nearly a year of conditioning my base fitness, a run like this was child’s play.
“I-I’m done…”
“You don’t want to return to society? With that pathetic willpower, the Outer Deities will devour you the moment you step outside. If you understand, start running!”
The screams of the weaklings who couldn’t finish their quota echoed behind us as the girl and I headed to the cafeteria.
The cafeteria strictly separated those possessed by Darwin-type Outer Deities from everyone else. Darwin-types were collectives of organic, complete-lifeform entities. Their methods revolved around biochemistry—spreading food poisoning, starting plagues, that sort of thing.
I didn’t see the girl after we grabbed our trays. I assumed she’d been possessed by a Darwin-type.
“Aaaah.”
Clatter.
A man who had been calmly eating his soup suddenly lost it.
“Th-they wouldn’t come here, right? If they did, we’d all die. Maybe. We have to escape. Run, run, I hear voices, ah. Aaaah.”
“Hey, you!”
“Ugh, aaah…”
“This one’s gone. Drag him over here.”
“I don’t want to die! Help me! Aaaaagh!”
The previously tolerable cafeteria atmosphere plunged back into gloom. I tore into my bread in silence. It was so hard it might as well have been a circuit board. Damn it. I already missed the food Sonia used to make. When was the last time I’d eaten one of her warm croissants with butter and sugar?
No thanks. That crossed the line, even for her. When an Outer Deity offered favors, you filtered every word. Their goodwill always came with a price.
“Aaaaagh!”
Screams erupted from another table. I stood with my tray and watched a young man, beaten black and blue, get dragged away limp by the guards.
“Goddamn it. Why are they taking it out on us? We’re victims too!”
I had no interest in wasting time on pointless post-meal chatter, so I left early. All the way out, ugly moans and cries chased me from behind.
Graviton Bomb. I had to complete the graviton bomb. But without tools, all I could do was thought experiments. Even with Accelerated Thinking and Parallel Processing, I couldn’t fully map out the physical laws required to build the system. I needed something to write with. A pen. Anything.
After the meal came prayer time in the makeshift chapel. If a powerful Constellation descended, it could drive out the Outer Deity and secure an immediate release. It was the only real hope anyone had. Unfortunately, the Outer Deities were territorial. They violently repelled any Constellation that tried to enter.
It was rare, but what if you already had a Constellation and then got possessed anyway? The Constellation might be driven out. In worst-case scenarios, they could be dragged into imaginary space and violated until their lifespan ran out. That wasn’t a metaphor. It actually happened.
“Anyone received a Constellation?”
“No.”
“If not, proceed to video therapy.”
After the chapel came the video room. It was really just a brainwashing facility. Maxwell-types were grouped together. Darwin-types with their own. The classroom changed slightly depending on the type of Outer Deity possessing you.
Since it was my first time, I had to declare my type to the inspector.
“Which Outer Deity are you?”
“Laplace.”
I told a casual lie. I was curious whether their detection was actually accurate.
“Nothing detected in the scan.”
“……”
“Guard!”
That was how I ended up beaten like a dog on a hot summer day and sent to the Descartes-type video room. It hurt like hell, but at least my curiosity was satisfied. No regrets.
Inside the room sat a full-screen TV. The moment I entered, the video started automatically with a mechanical whir.
“Descartes-type Outer Deities directly manipulate the minds of both the host and those around them. Therefore, anyone under their control must learn to maintain a constant sense of self.”
⟨ MAINTAIN YOUR IDENTITY ⟩
It was all basic stuff I already knew. Boring beyond belief. I yawned and let my mind wander.
Now, tell me. Who are you?
“Ah.”
“Ah—”
“I want to write a thesis.”
“I want to write a thesis—”
“……?”
Wait. This thing could interact?
The door burst open.
“This one’s completely insane. Bring him here!”
“Ow! Ow!”
This time I hadn’t even done anything wrong and still got pummeled. The afternoon passed in the same manner—eat, get disciplined, get beaten into shape at an appropriate intensity. That was how the days ended. Aside from the constant beatings, it wasn’t completely unbearable. I was even getting used to the animalistic screams that echoed through the halls every night.
Just before bed, the same robot from that morning rolled up and asked the question. It seemed this was the time to voice complaints or improvement requests. I wrinkled my nose at the stench of the blanket and spoke.
“Change the blanket. And the sheets and pillow while you’re at it.”
I’d been relatively polite. The reply I received was anything but.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“What?”
The robot bobbed once and rolled off to the next cell. For a second I couldn’t process what I’d just heard.
“Did it get hit with a DDoS or something?”
Then the same exchange drifted from the neighboring cell. The robot asked about inconveniences. A man answered. I held my breath and pressed my ear to the wall.
“Yeah, baby, come here.”
The moment the robot told him to screw off, the man started spewing that kind of talk. I dragged a hand down my face and collapsed onto the bed.
A few minutes later came the sound of guards’ boots. They unlocked the man’s cell and went inside. From the right cell rose the tortured screams of a madman. From the left cell came the girl’s muttered cursing. She was the same unfortunate girl who had drawn every man’s gaze during the morning run.
I lay back down.
— The God of Wisdom and Curiosity is bored. —
Orchard.
Iridium.
That’s not even a valid follow-up. Where does she get off cheating like this?
Ytterbium.
Even Cartesia must have been desperately bored if she was reversing her earlier refusal from the first day of my incarceration. Come to think of it, this was only possible because my pron resistance was effectively infinite. Normally, exchanging even a single sentence with an Outer Deity would stack hundreds of pron points.
You were a monster too.
Vega’s words suddenly resurfaced. I brushed them aside as unimportant and fell asleep.
Dreams were where I met Cartesia. Over the past week, I had slipped in and out of imaginary space through dreams and spoken with her true form multiple times.
“The Ether concentration here is too thick. Bestowing pron and observing you has become difficult.”
During my week on this planet, Cartesia’s power had weakened considerably. Her usually strong personality had softened along with it.
“If something interesting would happen, I might recover some energy.”
The God of Wisdom and Curiosity gained power through the accumulation of knowledge and the satisfaction of curiosity. For her, an academically uninteresting situation was poison.
What could I do? Cartesia might be an Outer Deity, but after living with her for several months, she was tame enough to be called a quasi-Constellation. If Popurus or some other monster had possessed me instead, they would have given me quests like “kill your friend” or “violate your sister.” If Cartesia lost to the Ether in this prison and left, it would be a serious problem.
Not only would I lose Accelerated Thinking, Parallel Processing, and Future Sight, but even after release I would have no guarantee of finding a Constellation willing to protect me.
“All right. Let’s try something.”
With that resolve, I fell into a deep sleep.
The next day, I began secretly tailing the guards and eavesdropping on their conversations.
“Ugh, do you know how long it takes to file a single report to the higher-ups?”
“Is it really that hard?”
“Don’t even get me started. The numbers have to be perfect, and word choice has to be as precise as scholars writing a thesis. Taking care of these lunatics is already exhausting, but adding that on top? It’s pure torture.”
Oh ho. I’d found my angle.