Full Vessels

Chapter 1 – Hess

A flicker of nothingness, followed by garish yellow walls, brass lamps, knotty oak stained mahogany, and nautical paintings: a chintzy hotel conference room with delusions of resort-hood. Hess stood a single step into the room, frozen mid-stride.

Where every other Iteration began with a download of fake memories from his current identity, this time there was only the realization that he still existed followed by the cacophony of a world crashing into motion from its freeze-frame beginning.

Hess gasped in air reminiscent of lemon-scented furniture polish, salt water, and fried food. His heart thundered in his chest as he considered the wall paneling. This world appeared post-industrial and pre-electric. Of course, as Elza always pointed out, technological developments didn't always follow the typical sequence.

Elza.

Shaking palms smeared sweat across his clammy forehead. He shouldn't be alive after the end of last Iteration, but here he was. Hess squeezed his eyes shut. Did Elza live too? Or had the Creator respected their individual wishes, ending her while preserving him?

Hess reached out a hand to steady himself on the wall, then took a knee. He lived. That should be enough. It had to be enough.

Before he could regain control of his trembling limbs, a violent spasm seized his abdomen, catapulting a volley of bile forth to splatter across the floor boards. For a moment, his forehead rested on the hard floor. Then Hess rolled over to stare up.

Up into the too-bright eyes of a dark-skinned man holding an uncapped pen like a dagger. Fucking fantastic. The Creator made my death-day wish come true. I get to properly express my disappointment.

A memory fluttered to the surface of his mind. Hess squinted at the dark man above him, recalling the reverse of their current situation, with him standing above the other during the second Iteration. "Erik?"

The maniacal smile warped into a scowl. Hess? You are literally the only Observer not on my shit list. I've got so many feelings I want to talk over with my coworkers. Erik made stabbing motions with his pen. "It's gonna be a fucking wunderbar conversation. Those suiciding pigs are gonna hurt so bad, Hess."

He pushed himself to his feet. What makes you think the other Observers are here? We're the only two who wanted to live.

Aw, did your tummy ache distwact you? Do you need me to read the literal writing on the wall? You know, the big fucking sign that says 'Executive retreat: discuss your observations for one week'? This right here is the perfect opportunity to fulfill my dying wish. I ever tell you that torture parties are my fave? Never got into sex or music or any of that shit, but hurting people gets me off every time.

Hess squared his shoulders. You don't touch Elza.

Cold calculation registered on Erik's face for a moment. Fine. Bitch built me a nuke, after all. The others are mine, so stay away unless you want to join in the festivities. I sympathize with your properly self-preserving ways and wouldn't begrudge you some vengeance.

What about discussing our observations?

Sudden cheer lit up Erik's features. "Oh, there will be so much discussion over the next week. These pathetic creatures are gonna positively gush. I mean that figuratively and literally, Hess-a-roni. They will apologize, and explain themselves, and squirt blood everywhere. Only thing that could ever top the fun we're gonna have is if I didn't have to die at the end."

Hess grunted, then shrugged. You don't want to die? Then stay behind when the world ends.

Don't be ridiculous. That's just a different way to die. Might even be that losing one of us hurts the Creator, which is the only thing I'm not willing to do at this point. Show must go on or some shit.

A world can't end until the last Observer leaves. I've stayed behind twice. He took a deep breath. And I'm doing it again in a week.

Erik's uneven squint grew more lopsided. You fucking with me?

No.

Then why would the Creator make us believe going AWOL was a death sentence? Either you're fucking with me or the Creator lied.

The dangers of staying behind were only ever implied. If I had to guess, I would say it was for our own good.

Erik's upper lip began to twitch.

You know how the others voted, Hess said. Imagine if they had been staying extra in each Iteration. The group suicide would have happened a lot sooner. By making us leave on time, the Creator extended the lives of the Observers who wanted to keep going.

Like sunlight burning away shadow, reason displaced rage. Erik blinked several times, nodded, and cracked a broad smile. The Creator suspected some of us would be rejects. Fucking brilliant. How long do you think a world can support life? A million years? I could be content with a million. 'Spose you could ask your ex for a sciency estimate?

Hess blew out a hard breath. I don't think we're speaking at the moment.

Don't sweat it too much, lover-boy. I have it on good authority half the population possesses a vagina.

Before Hess could respond, the door to the conference room creaked open to admit a petite dark-skinned woman who stomped up to them radiating reckless indifference. He recognized body and attitude in an instant. It was San, looking exactly as she had the first time he met her in Iteration two; back then he had been wandering the world alone in search of Elza. They had identified each other as Observers when he passed through her village.

Hess turned to study Erik. Both San and Erik looked the same as they had in Iteration two. Am I wearing the same body as Iteration two?

Erik laughed. Fuck no. You ain't that pasty albino.

The two of you look exactly the same as the first time I saw you.

San shrugged. More important, where's the booze? If we're ending it with an executive retreat at an island resort, I'm getting hammered.

Suicidin' San. You're lucky, bitch, a minute ago I was ready to show you my game face.

Did it look like this? San screwed her face up into a parody of mental derangement.

Erik's eyes lit up. How cute. You think you're a big girl.

San heaved a sigh. I'll definitely need booze for this.

Hess interrupted their posturing. Where are the others?

They're here. Starting an Iteration in a room full of Observers is an odd experience. Just as we start recognizing each other, the hotelier reads us an instruction letter from our 'company chairman' about how we are supposed to discuss our observations for a week. Not too subtle, that Creator of ours.

Are the other cowards too afwaid to face me?

San snorted. I always thought the baby talk appropriate for your development level.

Nothing 'bout me's appropriate. For example, I got this special technique I like to do. Burn every fucking millimeter of skin on a body. Then you smear them in shit and give them free reign of a basement with running water. They always try to clean themselves up at first. But something makes them stop before long. Never could decide if it was the pain or seeing their skin wash down the drain.

San rolled her eyes. You don't say. Well, once while sailing through shark infested waters I saw a frenzy. It looked like someone replaced all the water with fins and teeth. Terrifying. So, me being me, I jumped in. I can't even guess how many times they ripped me to pieces. They didn't stop for almost a whole day. I developed an actual phobia from the experience. Two years later, I went back to chase that adrenaline high.

Erik sneered. What, you saying I can't break you?

I'm already broken. But yes, I think you overestimate your skills.

Wanna test that theory?

Hess stepped between the two. Where exactly are the others?

Listening to the hotelier give a speech about the island. Industries and exports, that kind of thing. He's a sixth generation islander and oh so proud of his home. I'm not interested. I stopped observing the moment I cast my vote.

The next arrival stepped into the room. Hey San, they got a bar in the restaurant. I put a couple bottles of gin on our boss's tab. Never thought the Creator would buy me a drink.

Hess identified the newcomer in an instant. Drake, wearing his Iteration two body and brandishing a bottle in each hand like a frat boy. As Drake approached, his eyes fixed on Erik and bulged. Oh shit. He tossed a bottle towards San and retreated back through the door.

Gleeful cackles erupted from Erik. Hess rolled his eyes and followed Drake's path back into the hotel proper. As he walked, the layout became clear to him. The hotel was a multistory affair with a conference room attached to one side and a restaurant to the other, with a long hall on the first floor connecting the two. At the halfway point of the hall sat a double-door entrance overlooking a circular drive composed of faded paving stones, a check-in desk directly opposite the doors next to a public stair.

From the echoing sounds of retreating voices, his group had just ascended. He hesitated there, unsure of himself until the front desk staff offered him a room key with a flourish. You neglected to take your room key when you checked in, Mr. Hess. I trust the conference room passed your inspection? It is separated from the hotel proper by the breezeway, so there should be no danger of people overhearing confidential matters.

So I'm already checked in?

The porters took your things up already, and the rest of your party arrived on the second coach. The kitchens will deliver a welcome meal to the conference room in an hour. Until then, you are free to freshen up and unpack your things. We apologize for the inconvenience, but hot water is limited to after six o'clock due to a coal shortage. The barrier reef snagged the last barge and they refuse to send another until someone pays for what was lost at sea.

Hess studied the key on his way up the stairs. It bore a stamp indicating room 204, which sat conveniently close to the stair. He glanced each way down the hall but saw no one else. With a sigh, he entered to inspect his room.

Cramped, hot, and yellow described the space. Hess didn't waste any further time inside. As he turned from re-locking his door, he noticed a woman frozen in the act of descending the stairs. He slowly straightened.

She spoke first. Everyone embodies the form they first encountered another Observer. That means Iteration one for us.

Makes sense.

Elza nodded. I'll see you at the meeting.

He watched her resume her trip downstairs, then re-opened the door and went to sit on the bed, head in his hands.

Chapter 2 – Hess

After fifteen minutes, he went downstairs. Elza sat in the conference room with San, Jerome, and Greg, which sent him retreating to the restaurant's bar where Drake, Griff, Kerzon, and Ingrid were availing themselves of the abundant merchandise. Kerzon smacked him on the back as he went to order. Hey, last time all of us were together, we were watching Erik torture the shit out of you.

I wasn't there, Ingrid said.

Kerzon waved that away. Ya, but we thought you were.

Ingrid scowled. We punished Hess in Iteration one four three for conquering most of a world. That was the end of it. You failed to justify your vendetta past that.

Relax, Ingrid, we're all friends now. Kerzon slammed an open bottle down in front of Hess. See? I'll even share my whiskey. If Hess winks the right way, I might even take him to bed. You're damn easy on the eyes in that body, you know. I can see why you got the girl. Elza getting you, on the other hand . . . . Well, I guess that's a lesson in personal taste. No accounting, right?

Hess took a sip of the whiskey before passing it back. Was that whiskey or kerosene?

"Right? It's all shit,