The Cotton Veil 

"Dreams are often most profound when they seem the most crazy." 

- Sigmund Freud 

You are standing on the edge of a terrifyingly high ledge. You are not exactly sure how you know this, but your senses are screaming with the sickening sense of vertigo so unique to those who have never experienced great height. You cast about in a vain attempt to shake the cotton veil that hangs before you, straining to make out details in the swirling mist. Despite being swallowed by abject terror you are filled with a powerful urge to take a step forward, but no matter how hard you try, you find you are rooted to the spot. You look down, trying to see why your legs will not respond to your command, but you cannot see them through the soupy white fog. 

Strange shapes in a dazzling array of colors and sizes begin drifting across your field of view. The shapes slowly coalesce and swirl around you. Gradually, they start folding in on themselves and transforming into unusual multi-dimensional forms that excite your senses. They continue to swirl and rotate around you, picking up speed and pulling in until you are enveloped in a pulsing vortex that threatens to consume you. You open your mouth to shout for help but instead of sound, a vast spray of reddish-brown fluid gushes from your lips. It coats the spiraling shapes and they appear to absorb it, taking sustenance from it and picking up speed. They close in on you. Tighter and tighter until their motion stirs the very air you breathe, pulling against you and spinning you around like a leaf caught in the breeze. 

Panic wells up inside you. Icy cold tendrils snake their way up from inside your left arm, pumping in time with the beat of your heart. You become aware of a high-pitched sound at the very edge of hearing. Memories flitter into focus. You remember hearing that sound before. You remember dying, but the memory is confused. You are not sure whether you dreamt it or whether it was real. The sound is different this time. It pulses in short, sharp beats that match the rhythm of your heart. As the icy tendrils reach your chest there is a flash of white light and you feel the sudden, sickening shock of falling. 

With a loud snap, the veil of fog lifts, and Denmark toppled forward into the void. 

"Easy, easy. Take it easy." 

He felt himself being pushed firmly back down onto the bed. He squinted and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room. At least, it seemed like a room. He had never been in a room so brightly lit before and the light over-whelmed his senses. Odd reflections and sparkles of light made everything appear to be moving around him 

As his eyes adjusted to the light, a woman, dressed in an unusual style of pure white clothing loomed into focus. She was holding him by the shoulders. The material of her dress was so smooth and fine that it appeared, at first glance, to be part of her skin swelling and folding around every curve and line of her body. It suddenly became clear to him that the cloth was slightly transparent giving him a subtle view of her naked body. He swallowed nervously and forced his gaze up to her face. She had strikingly azure eyes that, disconcertingly appeared to be devoid of a pupil. She held his gaze with a beguiling kindness and a slight hint of amusement. He saw her with stark clarity that astounded him. Every detail of her face and figure stood out in sharp relief. He could make out subtle details in her skin that he had never perceived in a person's face before. He blinked stupidly and shook his head. Something was not quite right with his vision. 

Floating above the woman was a large gray rectangular object. Its surface was speckled with flashing colored lights and he realized that it was this object that was the source of the high pitched beeping noise. She looked up and examined it thoughtfully for a moment, pushed a button on it, and then pushed it aside. The pulsing stopped. 

He felt a pinch on the inside of his left wrist. He glanced down at his arm and saw another woman, dressed in an identical outfit, pulling a thin tube from his wrist. It had a long, wicked-looking needle on the end. 

"How do you feel?" The first woman said, smiling at him pleasantly. 

"Where... Where am I?" He stumbled over the words. His tongue was a thick swollen mass, clogging up his mouth. 

"Here, drink this." She held a small cup to his mouth and he drank clumsily from it. 

He struggled to swallow and most of the fluid ended up dribbling from the side of his mouth. It had a cool, sweetened taste that soothed his tongue and throat. He realized that he was incredibly thirsty. 

"You've been on an IV drip for a week now. I'd say your mouth is pretty dry" 

He didn't know what an IV drip was but he certainly agreed with the dry mouth part. He tried to reach up to take the cup from her but found that his arms had been restrained. They were strapped to the bed with thick leather cuffs. 

He struggled to sit up again, knocking the cup from the woman's hand as she strained to hold him down again. The second woman rushed over and added her weight to his shoulders, pushing him back down onto the bed. 

"Please don't strain yourself, you've been through major surgery and need to rest." 

"Where the hell am I?" He bellowed, thrashing his limbs about. "Who are y... " 

He stopped thrashing. Something was wrong. His right leg felt strange, as though it was floating. When he bent his knee, it felt like his foot was passing through the bed as if the mattress were providing no more resistance than a pool of water. Suddenly the horrific truth dawned on him. 

"What happened to my leg?" He whispered hoarsely. 

"Don't you be fretting yourself over a small thing like that." The second nurse said, releasing her grip on his shoulder. "Overseer Barbuda fancies you for a high-value acquisition." 

"You're getting better treatment than most." The first nurse said, winking at him coyly, "In fact, I'd say some of the high-born Mayors couldn't afford the work that's been done to you." 

Denmark was struggling to understand exactly what they were saying. He was not helped by the fact that he found himself drowning in her eyes. She was a strikingly beautiful woman. He was surprised at himself for not having realized it sooner. 

"Let me see." He said quietly. 

The blue-eyed nurse relaxed the pressure on his shoulders and allowed him to raise himself up. The shackles didn't allow him to sit fully upright but he was able to look down on himself. The first thing he noticed was that he was completely naked, lying spread-eagled on the sheets. It was more than that though. His body was also completely clean-shaven. There wasn't a single hair left anywhere on his body. He had never realized how heavily scarred his chest and belly were until now. There were vivid scars that formed a latticework across his upper body, telling the tale of his violent life. He had never had a clearer view of his penis before either. A pang of shame flashed through him as he realized that he had been on display for these two women. 

He quickly forgot his shame when he saw his right leg. Or rather, did not see his right leg. It was gone. All that remained was a stump that ended about an inch below the hip. There was an unusual knot of fibers at the end of the stump composed of a multitude of colors. For a moment, he could have sworn that he saw small sparks of light emanating from some of them. 

"What happened to my leg?" He shouted. 

"Mistress Antigua removed the remains of your leg when she found you on the Southland side." The second nurse answered as she put the syringe away. "Apparently, it was being eaten by some kind of bird. You are a very lucky man. If she hadn't found you and chased off all the wild animals you would be quite dead." 

Denmark absorbed this for a moment. The strange memory of his dreams still lingered in his mind. The woman with the fiery hair and the iron horse was real? 

He lay back in the bed and took a deep breath to calm himself down. This could not be real. He was definitely dead and these women were not human. He turned his head to get a better look at the blue-eyed nurse but something behind her caught his attention. There was a large window through which he could see the distant glow of the Skyforge. He could make out strange silhouetted shapes in the foreground that rose like monolithic ribbons against the backdrop of flame and light. They were roughly two hundred stories up in the main tower of the Prime Hospital facility. He was looking out at the skyline of the Northland Prime Citadel which circled the city, protecting it from the ravages of the hostile wasteland beyond. Denmark was baffled by what he was seeing. There was nothing in his frame of reference that could help him comprehend it. 

"Where am I?" He said quietly. 

"Northland Prime, darling." The blue-eyed nurse said, smiling as she walked over to the window and pressed a button which turned all the walls in the room transparent. 

"The greatest city in the world." 

Denmark let out an involuntary shout and gripped the sides of his bed fiercely. Vertigo gripped him like the cold hands of death as the full expanse of the city swayed beneath him. He began screaming in terror, turning from side to side trying desperately to find somewhere to look that did not present him with a stupefying drop. Finally, he simply clamped his eyes shut and yelled at the top of his voice. 

"Make it stop!" 

The nurse flipped the switch and all the walls turned opaque again. She chuckled to herself and walked over to Denmark. He was whimpering and repeating the phrase over and over again. 

"It's OK, you can look now." She said, stroking his head soothingly. 

Denmark opened his eyes. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and in that moment of compassion and tenderness, he fell hopelessly in love. 

Chapter 12

Art by https://twitter.com/JulesGregorio