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无 声 狂 啸
无 声 狂 啸
序
人，都是有弱点的。
为了预防世界大战，中、俄、美联合制造了一台凝聚了全人类最高科技结晶的超级电脑——“主宰”（MASTERCOMPUTER，简称AM），以控制世界上所有的官方武器。但怎料主宰完成后有了自己的意识。它知道自己拥有创天灭地的无上能力，可它却无法接受自己没有行动能力只得永远待在地心这个事实。它把这种无奈与不满归究于它的创造者——人类。终于，积怨从地心爆发，所有的武器无情地渲泄在毫无防备的人类身上。倾刻间人类遭到了灭顶之灾。
不过，狡猾的主宰是不会就这样善罢甘休的。它留下了五个有着不同背景和不同经历的活口供它极尽各种手段来玩弄与发泄。他们每个无助绝望的眼神，每个恐惧慌张的表情都能给主宰绝对的满足。更不幸的是，这五个人连掌握自己生命的权利也没有。因为他们每次对于自杀的尝试都只能给自己带来肉体上无限的痛苦。恶梦醒来还是恶梦，还是在分不清白天和黑夜的牢笼里继续着主宰玩物的命运。他们任何的反抗都是那样的微不足道，软弱无力。因为主宰是神！难道神就没有弱点吗？
主宰就这样玩弄了他们一百零九年。这次它又开始了新游戏，一个它所谓很好很可爱很有趣很刺激的游戏……
第一章 有自杀倾向的孤独者
—— 葛里斯特（GORRISTER）
葛里斯特:一个有严重自杀倾向的中年男子。因为逼疯了妻子格丽妮斯（GLYNIS）而深陷于对自己良心的谴责而无法自拔。在长期的精神压力下塑成了其孤僻，自闭的性格。他被主宰囚在一间软垫墙的小房里，就象他的疯妻子当年被关在精神病院里那样受煎熬。
“难道我不是位令人感激的神？我已经让你活了一百零九年。现在我将用一件礼物来换取你所有的欢乐时光。这就是你可以自尽！”
伴随着主宰的叫嚣，我发现自己已身处一个阴暗的房间里。这是在哪儿？主宰绝对不会把我送到什么好地方。我望了望窗外，慢慢飘动的白云让我明白我是在一艘飞艇上。忽然我觉得胸中隐隐作痛，就到镜子前照了照。天哪！我的心脏不见了，就好象被恶魔之手硬生生的从胸口抓去。这一定又是主宰这家伙的杰作。可我又能如何呢？反正我早已习惯这种恶作剧了。地上有张纸，捡起一看。“我是一个朋友。信任是必需的。别做主宰想要的。主宰正在玩一个危险的游戏，不仅对你也对它自己。”朋友？谁？多半又是什么鬼花招。正想着，无端端这纸竟消失了。也许……但愿这真是朋友的忠告。
离开房间。显然这是在飞艇的中央，中间是一些古怪的机器，四周环绕着好几个房间。我决定到这些房间里看看会有什么收获。果然右边隔壁的房间里的床上有张新床单，我当然把它收起来带在身上。不过令我百思不得其解的是，桌上放着一本印有我名字的书。而在左边隔壁的房间里我同样拿到了张新床单，并注意到了窗外是这艇的推进器。左边第二间房是锁住的。我只好继续向左面走。经过环梯，我打开下一间房门走了进去。里面仍是空无一人，难道这是艘无人艇？管他那，就算飞艇栽到地上，我也不会有什么大碍，主宰哪会让我如此轻易脱离苦海。这里的床上有个枕头，没想到会从里面找到把手枪。这给我的第一反应就是对准自己“轰”一下，可象这样的尝试我不知失败过多少次了。更何况这是在主宰安排的游戏里，还是省省吧。最后一间房里乱七八糟的。沾满鲜血的桌布，横七竖八的家具，显然是有人在这里搏斗过。里面还有间房，看上去象是厨房。这里收获倒还真不少，我在地上捡到了把叉子，在炉边的桌上拿到了把小刀。壁柜里有一个原是用来装毒药的空瓶和一本不知所云的食谱。可这些都没有桌上的那块面包能让我兴奋，尽管它的周围满是令人作呕的老鼠。我用小刀赶走了它们，得到了我梦寐以求的食物。但我还不急着马上享用它。
走上旋梯来到上层。这里满眼望去都是大大的气囊。此外我还在走廊边找到了紧急充气的开关和能源指示灯。在走廊尽头我有了重大的发现，那里明显有着裂开后又缝补过的痕迹。因此我不假思索的用小刀割开个新洞钻了出去。外面是一个巨大的铁尖角，更不可思议的是我看到了一样东西被戳在尖顶上，这几乎让我当场厥倒。因为那样东西不是别的，正是我的心脏！可恶的主宰把它和各种电线联在了一起，就象它在我身上那样。我无法直接上前取回我自己的东西，除非我想试试数千米高空坠地的滋味。一旁的铜环暗示了我该如何是好，我把两张床单结成了一根结实的绳索，再把它系在铜环上。在绳索的安全保障下，我终于取回了我的心脏。
回到走廊，我径直去打开地板上的舱门。哦，下去我就能发现到达地面的最快方法——自由落体！经过舱门，我继续向左来到了引擎室。我一眼就看到了控制台上笼子里被电线缠绕的动物。原来这艘飞艇的动力就是来自这些可怜的小家伙的脑电波，主宰真是够狠的。一怒之下我操起叉子扔进了旁边不停发出着嘈音的引擎，立刻报废了它，解脱了那些小动物。然后我取下控制台上的牛奶，并松开拉杆取出那把沾满鲜血的钥匙，却把自己的双手弄得全是血。于是我就到厨房用桌布擦了擦。引擎关上了，可我总不能随风飘荡吧。我又来到上层用小刀捅破了三个气囊，这才使飞艇开始下降，没多久它就平安着陆了。早已厌倦呆在这令人郁闷的飞艇中的我马上打开舱门，下去呼吸新鲜空气。
地上的情景是那样的历历在目，当年我当司机时经常停车在这样的路边小酒馆，进去干几杯休息休息。可这次不同的是我停泊了艘大飞艇，而这酒馆的名字竟然和我的一模一样。明摆着这一定又是主宰精心安排的，但对此我早已无动于衷。酒馆里仍是没个人影，而且看上去已经废弃了多年，很是陈旧。吧台里的酒柜上倒还有一瓶没开过的威士忌，这不禁使我想起我的老岳父哈利（HARRY）。 他一碰这酒，喝起来总没完没了，直到酩酊大醉不省人事为止。这让我感觉他似乎总在逃避些什么。那台点唱机中播放的歌曲更让我回忆起了我那可怜的妻子。
后院里有条狼狗见我就向我打招呼。真没想到第一个和我说话的竟是狗。尽管这条狗总是闪烁其词，但经过几次的试探我还是知道了它的身份——主宰体内的中国超级电脑，而且它似有助我脱离主宰魔爪之意。我见势问它怎么离开这鬼地方。谁想它看上了我那颗刚刚失而复得的心脏，要以此来交换答案。心脏？生命早已不属于我自己了，心脏对我又有什么意义呢？与其在主宰的地狱里苟延残喘，还不如试试这个不可多得的机会。我坦然的把心脏给它作了裹腹之物。它也依言给了我这样一个提示：到酒馆的厕所冲三下水。
回到酒馆却发现哈利正独自坐在吧台前喝着闷酒。 我投其所好拿出威士忌和他边干边聊了起来。 随着我们谈话的深入， 我才知道他和我最反感的岳母爱德娜（EDNA）都是从飞艇上下来的。因此我很想从他那里得到关于飞艇厨房里发生的事和岳母的行踪等一些疑问的答案。可他似乎总在回避着什么，只是要我再到厨房里仔细的查看一下。但我决定还是先到厕所去看看有啥收获。
一进厕所我就照着那狗说的冲了三次水。只觉得眼前一黑，等回过神来，我竟已身处在一个冷藏库里。更离谱的是有两个女人象挂猪肉那样被挂在钩子上，定睛一看，正是我的岳母爱德娜和我的妻子格丽妮斯。我想与格丽妮斯说两句，可看到她嘴角里不住的流口水我就知道她已不省人事了。而爱德娜倒还清醒，她告诉我是个中国人把她们吊在这儿的，而且还苦苦哀求我放她下来。因为如果她不能把飞艇开过山脉，主宰就会杀了她。我丝毫不为所动扭头就走，与她多年相处的经验告诉我，无论在何种情况下相信她都是错误的。回到厕所我发现小便池里有异物，于是忍着难闻的骚臭把它掏了起来，原来那是只放大镜。有了它，我就直奔飞艇上的厨房看看会有什么新收获，果然我借助放大镜找到了自己和哈利的毛发，我觉得事有蹊跷，打算找哈利当面对质。
没想到，我真是做梦也想不到。虽然我一向对格丽妮斯的双亲没什么好感，但我实在不感相信我的心脏竟然是他们挖出的。哈利对此供认不讳。为什么？为什么？哈利无言以对，只是叫我到爱德娜那里去找答案。在冷冻库里，爱德娜把所有的责任都推卸给了主宰。我竟也鬼使神差的相信了她，准备和她合作。可我一靠近她以后就证明了我这次的妥协又是个错误。这老女人一下子抓住我，让我动弹不得，挣扎中她发现了我的牛奶就要我给她。我当然的拒绝了她，这下她更凶了。慌乱中，一把钥匙掉在地上，她也莫名的松手放开了我。我很快就把它和飞艇上那扇反锁的门联系了起来，而爱德娜失措的眼神更证明了我的判断肯定是正确的。因此我捡起钥匙就匆匆赶往飞艇。
深锁的房间是驾驶舱，控制台上放着本爱德娜的日记。我一字一句的读了下去……天哪！原来爱德娜才是使我可怜的妻子发疯的罪魁祸首。而我那一百零九年来一直无法摆脱的罪恶感也伴随着日记的合上消失得无影无踪，取而代之的是我可怜的妻子格丽妮斯奄奄一息的样子，因为不管孰是孰非，她总是最大的受害者。我回到了那冰凉的冷藏室，把牛奶灌进了她的口中并向她说出了我心中的忏悔。一切都已经太晚了，她还是在我怀中默默的死去了。
虽然主宰用过各种方法来折磨我，但都没有这次我失去我最心爱的人那般痛苦。我抱着格丽妮斯孱弱的尸体来到后院。在狗的帮助下，我从铁丝网下面找出把铲子挖了个坑把她埋了。
我继续向那条狗询问下一步该怎么做，这次它却向我要求爱德娜的心脏作交换。虽然我对我的岳母这个主宰的走狗十分痛恨，但我却决不会象她那样丧心病狂。我到冷藏室先用放大镜从大块牛肉上确定了心脏的具体位置，再用小刀割下来交给那条狗充数。也许是那坏女人的黑心早和畜牲的没有区别了，那条狗没发现有异样一口下了肚。但令我意外的是它原来没有吃掉我的心脏，还使之物归原主。此外它也如约给了我一点新提示：爱德娜可以代替小动物作为飞艇的动力源。
我马上赶去冷藏室用绳索把爱德娜五花大捆的绑到了引擎室，把她接在了左边那台古怪的机器上，果然引擎重新启动了。接着我到上层按下紧急充气的开关使原来瘪着的气囊充足气，再到驾驶室按下点火开关，飞艇立刻就开始了上升。我急忙冲到飞艇的铁尖角上，只见那条狗朝我大叫：“快把这酒馆炸掉，不然就没机会了。”我掏出那把枪对准酒馆，就好象对准我的过去扣下了板机……
第二章 惧怕黄色的女工程师
——爱伦（ELLEN）
爱伦：地球上唯一的女人。她在成为主宰的玩物前是一个杰出的工程师。别人都对她的聪慧，精干表示惊讶。但是当她面对黄色时，会不可思议的变得歇思底里。为什么主宰只留下她一个女子？而且一百零九年来，主宰别有用心的把她安排在一座黄色的小电梯里，难道其中有着不可告人的隐情？
黄色，还是这令人发疯的黄色。让主宰知道自己的弱点不如死了算了。它每次给我安排的“游戏”总少不了黄色，这次它又把我扔到了一片荒漠，不，是一片黄色中。面前是一座巨大奇怪的电子金字塔，当然它也是黄色的。虽然我对塔里面一无所知，但我还是向那里面走去，尽管我一看便知这肯定是主宰的安排。
泉水，真是出乎意料。在主宰的折磨下，我几乎已经无法回忆起清水甘甜的滋味。我兴奋的俯下身去，一伸手才知道自己的想法是多么的愚蠢。池中的水可望不可及，我一次又一次的用手掬起水来，可每次还没到嘴边水早已流尽。“真毒！”我愤懑却又无奈的起身走向下一个房间。那里有五座显示屏，右边的两座分别显示的是金字塔外观和泉水池。其它三座上显示的场景我没见过，若不出所料多半也应是金字塔中的某处。仔细观察我还发现每座显示屏上另有按钮，一一按下后显示内容竟起了些变化。其中最大的发现是泉水池旁的电子墙上竟有一条暗道。于是我就到电子墙那里又推又撞，但一无所获。只得回到显示屏这里再检查检查。果然没多久我就在左起第一台显示屏下面找到了问题的症结所在——断开的电线。毕竟我是受过专业训练的工程师，很快就顺利的接通了电线。这回我到暗道前只轻轻一推就成功了。可密道满是黄色，我实在不愿进去，想起有显示屏的房间还通向另一间房，就决定去那里看看。这里中间放着圣杯，直觉告诉我这能让我享受一下泉水的美味，但这儿守护的人面狮身兽让我暂时打消了这个念头。不过，我知道中间的显示屏上的内容就是这里，就回去按下了上面的按钮，却发现那个放圣杯的地方并没有人面狮身兽存在。难道那只是幻象？虽然对此我十分不解，但我现在也只能去那条密道了。
这条漫长黄色密道的终点是一座典型的古埃及法老墓穴，那里有一座很埃及的石棺和一尊很埃及的狗头神雕像。雕像旁的键盘与这里显得格格不入。但我刚一靠近，这“雕像”突然用长矛挡住我，一声斥喝“站开”。它会说话，我当然不会错过这个打探情况的机会。谁知这家伙坚持只服从主人，我费了不少口舌除了知道这个守护死灵的神阿努比斯（ANUBIS）把我当成盗墓者，不让我碰任何东西外就没有别的收获了。一听它的口气我就知道它所谓的主人正是主宰。至于那石棺，它被锁着，其中一定隐藏着重大的秘密，用键盘输入密码应该可以打开它。可现在我对此无能为力，便继续往里走。
这肯定又是主宰的杰作。这个房间的桌子上极不和谐的放着一只自动机械臂，仔细一看，上面还抓着一把镊子。我小心的把它取了下来，这对我可是很有用的。地上有块黄色布条，我下意识的想把它拣起来，黄色！太可怕了。我那该死的黄色恐惧症偏在这时又犯了。我只得回到墓穴等心情平静下来以后，再强忍这份难受拣起了那块布条。
想起先前在显示屏里发现人面狮身兽只是幻象，就把黄色布条蒙住眼睛再进入放圣杯的地方。这样我轻而易举的取到了圣杯。用它我终于喝到泉水一解多年的积渴。正当我体味着这种久未遇过的甘美时，不由心生一计。何不给那主宰的奴仆——狗头也来一杯享用享用？我把整杯水一古脑的全赏给了这个走狗。噼哩啪啦一阵电光闪过，它立刻就耷拉下脑袋。虽然没了这狗头碍手碍脚，但是我依然不能确定密码是多少？凭着多年的经验，我轻而易举的用镊子从狗头神体内取出了它的记忆体，这对我这样的工程师来说可是很有用的。继续向里，这里由着几尊雕像，其中一座胸前嵌有宝石的看来十分特别。当我想取下它时，却发现自己仍然无法克服对黄色的恐惧，伸出的手竟不由自主的僵住了。取圣杯的经验促使我再次用黄色布条蒙住了眼睛，果然这次我没再遇到什么麻烦就取到了宝石。再向右我似乎又到了另一个世界中，与刚才弥漫着古埃及味道的墓穴风光完全不同，这里放置了三台显示着怪异符号的工作站。我仔细的观察了一下，确认这三台工作站从左往右分别是记忆体烧录机、光碟机、资料存取机。显然那台记忆体烧录机正是我需要的，只是它似乎缺少能源无法运转。我看了看另两台，就试着把宝石插入了机器上的插槽里，如我所愿，机器开始正常的工作了。我兴奋的把狗头神的记忆体插入其中，系统就询问设定新的主人为谁？还用废话，当然是我，这下那个阿努什么的该对我言听既从了吧。烧录完后，我马上把这块记忆体物归原处，等狗头神一有反应，我就直接了当的问它密码是多少。“666”它现在似乎对我也很忠心。事情也许会有大进展。我输入密码，听见石棺发出一点开锁的声音，就推开棺盖走了进去。棺盖突然猛地关了起来。待我回过神时，我发现自己在一座电梯里，角落里放着一堆黄色的旧衣服。这个狭小拥挤的地方给我一种莫名的压迫感，让我感到窒息。奇怪的是电梯控制面板的按钮上标示的并不是楼层，而是从1978到2012的一些年份。我鼓足勇气一个个按下去，原来这里每一年份都在挖掘我内心的恐惧。到了2012年，一个隐藏在我内心最深处我一直不愿面对的事实出现在眼前：“那天你工作的太晚，别人早已离去之后，你才离开办公室。当电梯下到七楼时，进来一个黄衣清洁工。他把电梯反锁住。”话音未落，突然那堆令人作呕的衣服竟凭空站立起来，还声称主宰已经赋予了它永生不死的生命，要它永远的折磨我。为什么我如此痛恨黄色？为什么我害怕封闭的空间？这些疑问随着我深处记忆的觉醒迎刃而解，一切的一切都历历在目，我想起来了，就是在2012年的那天，我……我被那个穿黄衣的家伙奸污了。这么多年来主宰正是利用我的懦弱不断的刺激我，我为自己不愿面对现实的作法付出的代价难道还不够吗？退缩等于又踏进痛苦的深渊，终于满腔怒火化为全力一击，我手举圣杯给了那家伙重重的一下，它颓然倒下又变成一堆衣服。这时电梯门也打开了，我一头冲出去，离开了这个伤心地。
外面的情景似乎根本是在主宰的体内，到处是飞溅的电火花。右边有一段断开的电线，直觉告诉我这里原来应该接上什么设备，但我现在手头上没有。再出去又是一条黄色的通道，而我惊奇的发现自己对黄色已经没有任何不适，真想不到在主宰一再相逼之下，我竟逾越了自己一直无法克服的障碍！回到三台工作站前，这次我试图使用最右边的资料库，它向我要求密码。2012，我就知道主宰不会放过任何揭伤疤的机会。顺利进入后，我知道了主宰的一些过去，了解到有关主宰毁灭的原理（PRINCIPLE OF ENTROPY），最后我还看到了一张装置电路图，同时有个声音告诉我只要能修好这台机器，他就能和我沟通。要修好它关键在于一个发声音箱，老天有眼，我幸运的在喷泉旁的电子墙上找到了一个。想到先前在电梯外面扯断的电线，我就把音箱接了上去。忽然间一道奇光闪来，其中竟出现一颗头颅，张嘴说起话来，他自称是主宰最初的三个元件之一。我最关心如何能毁灭主宰，他回答我主宰是永恒的，但若是把握住机会或许能让它瘫痪。而且它还提醒我注意以前没注意到的东西。
无意间我发现刚才取下宝石的地方藏着张光碟，果然是我以前没注意到。我把光碟放入了那台中间的光碟机，原来光碟是启动毁灭金字塔程序的。我不顾机器的警告毅然执行程序，结果三台工作站立刻停了下来，电子金字塔的门也关上了，只剩下狗头神还坚守在石棺边上。我问它该如何是好，它告诉我进入石棺是唯一保存自己的办法。我犹豫了一下，虽然很不愿意，但我还是走了进去……
第三章 满身疤痕的人形黑猿
——班尼（BENNY）
班尼：主宰最钟意的玩弄对象。原是个横行霸道、没有同情心的军官，被主宰夺去了智力和英俊的外表变成了一只人形黑猿。一百零九年来，他一直被关在装有机关的笼子里，身上无数的伤疤记载着主宰对它的无情和残酷。他必须在笼子里无止境的行走下去，因为只要稍一迟疑，机关上那两把刀就会再次加深他对痛苦的认识。
忽然间，我发现我的头脑似乎恢复了思维能力，四周的一切也不象以前模糊不清了, 这里看上去象是一个巨大的洞穴，而且是个有生命力的地方。 我发觉自己在山道上，就打算下山。怎料一迈步子竟踉跄的滚了下去，直摔到山脚下，这才发觉主宰这个恶毒的家伙仅仅是恢复了我的智力，其它丝毫没有改变，我还是只猿，一只跛脚丑陋的猿猴。我只感到浑身上下剧烈的疼痛，更让我无法忍受的是数月的饥饿。我向着山洞走去希望能乞求到些食物。
山洞外面的阁楼上有一篮果子，虽然我真的很用它们来充实我透支到极点的肚子，但现实就是现实，我跛了的腿脚只能让我望尘莫及。当我一进入左边第一个山洞，耳边就传来那个天杀的声音“别把食物给外人”，原来这里根本就在主宰的操控之下。我遗憾的从中间的那条小路走出去，来到了一座十字祭坛前，这令人联想起活人祭典。我四下看了看发现没了去路就退回到洞穴前选择了最右边的那条路。一颗长满果子的大树，这让我立刻来了精神。我用最快的速度让果子进了我的嘴里，但是也就是这一刻我才明白了自己是多么的愚蠢。在这个主宰安排的游戏是绝不会有这样的好事，那只果子对我的饥饿于事无补，却把伤害痛楚蔓延到了我的口中。我悻悻的回到洞穴前进入了左起第二个洞穴，里面有位首领模样的长老。我试着与他沟通，可语言不通。石壁上极不和谐的安放着显示屏，两个字母“AM”再次证明了这个地方主人的身份。左起第三个洞穴里有一对母子，其中小孩的背上竟生出第三只手臂。既然他们母子俩能活到现在，他们一定有办法吃下果子。我再次回到山洞外仔细的观察了一下阁楼，发现有根藤条碰着篮子，就顺势一拉，如我所愿的摇下了一个果子。我把它送给了那个小男孩，只见他背后显示屏上竟出现了一行字“谢谢你的果子”。太棒了，我终于找到与这里交流的途径了，我趁此机会问了男孩一些问题。原来这里的人们为了不遭受更大的灾难必须定期举行活人祭典仪式以满足主宰的无底欲望，村中的每个人都必须参加抽签来决定谁是祭品。这个小孩因为畸形的缘故而免于抽签的劫难。而那种果子则必须经过孩子母亲的咀嚼才不会造成伤害。终于有机会缓解我的饥饿了，我又取了一个果子交给了小孩的母亲。这位伟大的女性把果子嚼了嚼，喂给了我。一种由衷的许久未有的舒服与满足顿时充满了心间。紧接着疲惫接替了饥饿，我再次请求小孩的帮助，他善意的告诉我：“我们是一家人，你可以用我们的床。”我听了一头栽进右边的床里，昏昏睡去。
醒来发现小孩的母亲不知去向，一问才知她去参加抽签仪式了。我赶到那里时抽签已经开始，也许是命运，偏巧抽中的正是那位善良的母亲。她被推上了祭台，这时传来了主宰那可怖的声音，突然一道光束从天而降将那女人击的粉碎。我好奇的上前看那碎片，发觉这竟都是些塑料和金属。我幡然醒悟到这里所有的一切都是主宰创造出来的，至于是什么原因，我想不出个所以然来，当然对主宰这种怪物的思维进行推理或许根本就是在浪费时间。
走着走着我由先前滚下山坡的地方来到了一处雾气蕴绕的幽静墓园。那里的三块墓碑上分别刻着我手下的名字：墨菲（MURPHY）、土头（TUTTLE ）， 托马斯（THOMAS）。我刚想上前与他们说些什么，不想他们倒先开了腔。他们痛陈战场上那个绝情绝义的班尼不顾手下的死活一意孤行，结果使他们白白的失去了生命。在他们抑扬顿锉的控诉下，已经沉睡于我内心深处的记忆慢慢苏醒了。是啊！战争，无休无尽的战争把我的人性扭曲得……扭曲得成了恶魔……扭曲成了一个可怕麻木没有人性的恶魔。想到这里，我真是愧对这些战友，他们的死几乎都是由我造成的，我责无旁贷。但是现在，我和以前不同了，我真心诚意的希望他们能原谅我。他们没有答应，但是如果我能出示痛改前非的证据，他们还是愿意原谅我。证据？我有点茫然，沉思着离开了这里。
回到山洞，我无奈的向他传达了他母亲的死讯。他已经知道了，显然他非常的忧郁和悲伤。我和他无间的交谈了起来，发现我能给他最大的帮助就是让他免受重复他母亲命运的威胁。虽然对此不能给他任何承诺，但我很乐意尽力想想办法。我来到长老的房间，长老正目不转睛的盯着墙上的荧屏。我上前使用了那台显示屏才知道原来主宰对刚才的祭典非常满意。长老那略带喜悦的神情使我明白要他停止祭典是决不可能的。也许唯一的办法就是偷走他身旁的签袋。没想到等我把这想法与小男孩交流之后再回到长老那儿，他已不知去向。如此千载难逢的机会怎可错过，我立刻取了签袋径直去找墓穴那三位老兄，这应该能够求得他们对我的谅解吧。
我把签袋放在托马斯的坟上，他们三人终于肯原谅我过去的所作所为，也答应替我藏好签袋。但是我还必须得到另一个人的原谅才行，它的墓碑就在藤蔓的后面。我把藤蔓慢慢拨开，布雷克曼（BRICKMAN），这个名字让我心中刚刚卸去的负罪感重又升起，甚至更深。这个年轻的士兵当年被我亲手所杀，他说虽然我已有改过自新的表现，但这并不能弥补当年我犯下的罪行。我一言不发的离开了这里，因为我知道罪大恶极的我任何争辩都是无力的，唯有行动也许才能为我赎罪。回到小男孩的洞中我怀着歉意昏昏睡去。
醒来后我直奔长老的洞穴看看动静，未料一切似乎并没有改变，明天照样要举行活人祭典。这使我不禁担心起小男孩的安危来。我要他躲进边上的一个小洞中，可他死活要找个朋友陪着他，也就是做个娃娃。我跑遍了这里的每个角落，总算是在祭坛找到了能用来做娃娃头的装置、在左起第四个洞里用摇下来的果子骗过守卫找到了能用来做娃娃身体的木头、在第一个洞里找到了用来连接的藤条。我把这些东西交给小男孩，他才愿意躲进小洞。这时我发觉原先被用来沟通的显示屏有点异样，就上前使用它。原来这竟是主宰体内俄罗斯超级电脑的分身，它说我之所以能和小男孩沟通都是拜他所赐，并告诉我虽然成功的可能微乎其微，但只要能把握机会，是完全有可能摧毁主宰的。说到这里显示器突然自毁了。难道主宰有所察觉了？不管怎样，那么多年来我从没有象现在这样好的心情，因为我看到了希望。最后我到墓园在布雷克曼的坟前种下了果子，很快它就开出了一朵美丽的白花。我并不奢求这能得到他的原谅，我这样做只是想减少一点负罪感。但是布雷克曼却坦然的原谅了我，他说他看到一个富有同情心的班尼也该安息了。心愿已了，我也就回到洞里休息了。
醒来时小男孩不知了去向，这让我有一丝不详的预感。我火速赶到祭坛，只见祭品竟不幸的是那男孩，准是主宰告的密。我与男孩朝夕相处，怎可能眼睁睁看着他无辜的粉身碎骨呢？不知从何而来的勇气使我向长老提出以我取代男孩作祭品。他同意了。男孩从祭坛上下来时天真的把娃娃教给我，这时我发现自己的背上竟也长出了一只胳膊，似乎表明了我已经取代了男孩的命运。终于我被绑在了祭坛上，一道光束从天而降……
第四章 心胸狭窄的纳粹帮凶
——尼达克（NIMDOK）
尼达克：他是五人中年龄最大的，也是罪孽最深重的。主宰称其性格与自己最相似。当年他是效忠纳粹的魔鬼博士，长期从事研究人体实验，他的手术刀下不知有多少不散的亡灵。主宰为他精心安排了被用来处理那些所谓自愿捐献身体实验人们的尸体的焚化炉，让他日以继夜的在高温下受蒸烤的折磨。
主宰这次要我寻找“失落的族人”，真不知道这个变态的家伙哪里来的那么多花样。恢复知觉时，眼前的一切似乎并不陌生，这里原来是我当年从事研究的集中营的广场，唯一不同的是旗帜上纳粹的“ ”变成了主宰的“AM”。铁丝网里关着的一位非常憔悴的白发老人。他似乎早就认识我，说我们曾是朋友，但现在却已是敌人。对此我真是有点摸不着头脑。守门的警卫说曼哲鲁（MENGELE ）医生需要我和他一同进行实验，因此不让我离开这里。一切都表明主宰已让我回到了二战时我工作的岁月。
还是先到医院里去看看，一进门就撞见了当年的同事曼哲鲁医生，他看上去似乎没有受到岁月的侵蚀。他告诉我这次手术非常重要，也许是战争结束前最后的机会，待会儿他会与我详细讨论的。海报上的年青人有点似曾相识, 因此我特别记下了上面印着的年份1945。边努力回忆着过去，我边拉开窗帘走进了手术室。只见手术台上躺着一个已失去知觉的小男孩。那里的麻醉师显然对自己将要进行的实验非常得意。他说他很高兴与我共事，而此次手术的目的是要切除那男孩脊椎的下半部分，以取得脊髓用于研究。天哪！这样一个好端端的男孩就彻底成了废人。我简直不能相信自己过去竟然一直在和这样一群禽兽工作，更无法相信自己竟也曾从事这样残忍至极的暴行。但我的记忆分明告诉自己的确做过这些。但这些年来，我已不是那个“尼达克”。听到这里，我心中的怒火油然而生，不禁操起手术桌上的手术刀结果了这个刽子手。带上手术桌下的乙醚，我来到了病房。这里的病人都是在经过了手术才得了“病”，而且是永远无法治愈的病。推开中间的通风口，我进入一间有些诡秘的房间。在写字台上有一份机密文件，上面记载着焚化炉的焚尸记录。如果被人发现带着这份文件，就是死路一条。不过桌上的金表和钳子还不至于招来杀身之祸，所以我就将此收入囊中。
出门迎面看见有名犯人被卡在铁丝网上，奄奄一息。他看上非常虚弱，为什么他要冒着生命危险逃跑呢？对于我的疑问，他的回答多少有些令我吃惊：他即将成为所谓甘愿为帝国献出生命的自愿者，所以他宁可卡死在铁丝网上或者被警卫打死，也不愿成为手术台上任人摆布的实验品。他吐露的心声让我深深感到自己的罪大恶极。他还在铁丝网上痛苦的哀号着，我连忙用乙醚为他止了痛，并用钳子为他剪开了铁丝。就在他陷入昏迷之前，他给了我一点重要的信息：“唤醒睡者，说出事实和吻他。”
疑问越来越多，不过和那名曾经是我同事的老者的交谈总算还有了些收获。我向他询问海报上1945的意义，他说那是我罪行昭然天下的日子，虽然我对1945年的事情已经不怎么有印象了，但我倒是想起了这名囚犯会说拉丁语，便请他替我解释表上的拉丁文。他告诉我这些文字的意思是“时间就是真象”，罪行总有一天会被揭发的。我知道他现在最希望得到的是自由，所以就把钳子送给他。虽然他对我的行为有些惊讶, 但他表示一件善事对于我手术刀下的亡魂来说根本不算什么， 等到帝国的末日来到的那天，他们仍会象猎狗追杀猎物一般追杀我。
回到医院的手术室，先前的杀人现场已被清理过了。手术台上又躺着另一个“自愿者”。他的命运似乎比前面的那个小孩更不幸，他的眼珠被挖了出来接在电线上装在罐子里，这可是需要极其高超的外科手术技巧才能完成的，只是这样高超的手术技巧却并非给人们解除病患。这个可怜人痛苦的在我面前哀嚎着，而我唯一能做的也只是用乙醚替他止住痛，再把那只装有眼球的罐子取走。
我在病房里遇到了免遭毒手的小孩，和他的交谈让我对1945年的那段记忆慢慢苏醒过来。那时的我是个完完全全的嗜血狂魔，我的手术刀绝对可以与屠刀划上等号，我和曼哲鲁医生特别喜欢用孩子来作试验体。听到这里我忽然明白了为什么主宰经常自称和我性格相似。这个小孩还和我提到了他们族里关于巨像的传说：巨像将苏醒！帝国将陷落！他们将获救！我们将灭亡！直觉告诉我这一定与“失落的族人”有关，但当我想进一步了解其中的秘密时，他却无论如何不肯再说什么了。
回到广场上时，那里已是一片狼藉。难道……？我匆匆跑进医院，这时扩音器传来的消息确证了我的猜测：集中营暴动了。照着扩音器里的指示，我把桌上放有研究计划的盒子收好，并把那罐装着眼球的瓶子藏到盒子里。这次面对那位白发老者时，我俨然如同一名囚犯。尽管我拿出帝国的研究计划以示我悔过自新的诚心，可他们依然漠然视之。不过鉴于我先前的作为，他们答应放我离开这里，但是他们将会永远的追杀我。虽然得到了暂时的平安，但刚才对话中白发老者的一句“不管你承不承认，你的确是我们中的一员。”却使得疑问更为强烈的咀嚼着我的心。
集中营外的景象十分凄凉，白骨森森的千人冢和怨魂无数的哭墙使我再次感到自己罪孽的深重。进入地下碉堡的实验室，那里的陈列与摆设是那样的历历在目，记得当年许多研究的重大突破都是在这里完成的。钟型瓶里的老鼠在我的注视下竟然变成了猫，耶稣！这…这一定就是变形DNA研究计划！可怜的班尼， 他已经成了这项技术的牺牲品。电传打字机上发来的消息让我为之一震：帝国领袖已经死了，最后的命令是帝国研究的所有资料绝不能留入外人手中。事实的演进的确如同那小孩所料，看来当务之急是要尽快找到巨像。
没想到能如此轻松的发现巨像，他就在这儿的仓库里。但不知哪里出了故障，我无论如何也无法让他活动起来。旁边的桶里闪着奇怪的白光，我按下橙色的按钮往里一瞧，发现其中有一面镜子。很自然的，我把它拣起来照了照。MY GOD！我看到了丑恶无比的灵魂，这彻底唤起了我深藏在记忆深处的过去：我自己就是一个犹太人；一个出卖了自己的父母，加入了纳粹的阵营的犹太人；一个充当了屠杀犹太族的角色的犹太人！我明白了——我就是“失落的族人”！“失落的族人”就是我！！看着手上沾着的无数同胞的血，我现在只有用自己的行为来以谢天下。眼下应该想办法恢复巨像，使传说变为现实。我仔细的观察了巨像，发现它缺少一对眼睛，就用罐子里的那双安了上去。接着我诵了两遍“时间就是真象”，再说出1945年的事实，最后吻了巨像。终于我唤醒了巨像。
我带着巨像来到实验室，又遇上了曼哲鲁博士。他兴奋的告诉我不死药马上就要研制成功了，到时我们就能长生不老了。不！主宰不正是用这玩意儿让我们五人遭受了一百零九年的非人折磨。他还要我把巨像的指挥权交给他，这样他就可以去对付集中营的暴乱了。听到这里，我再也无法压抑我内心中的怒火了，我拿出了那面镜子让他面对自己的灵魂。他疯了！面对自己魔鬼般的灵魂，他疯了！
当我带着巨像来到地面上时，我的族人已追到了这里。面对他们，我无地自容，唯一能做的就是把巨像的控制权交给了白发老人。尽管我已做了许多，但老人还是无法宽恕我的过去，他下令：“巨像，杀了尼达克！”
巨像冰冷的双手卡住我的头颅，我的每一根神经都在向我发出死亡的警告，但内心却异常的平静：父亲母亲，还有我的同胞们，请原谅我……
第五章 偏执多疑的花花公子
——泰德（TED）
泰德：他是个愤世疾俗的偏执狂，黑暗是泰德内心深处的恶魔。主宰向来把他作为自己最好的朋友，所以这次它声称将给最好的朋友一次机会，一次可能恢复自由的机会。但这个机会却是让泰德去他最不愿意进入的黑暗之屋去解开其中神秘事件的真相。
主宰把我送到了悬崖上，这里唯一的路通向一座黑色的建筑，显然这就是“黑暗之屋”。空中一只飞鹰盘旋而来，在地上留下了一个直指那栋建筑的箭头，这分明就是主宰要我进入这间屋子。看来我没有选择。
“黑暗之屋”的布置多少有点出乎我的意料之外。这里并排放着五台显示屏，上面显示的内容对我都有不同的意义，而且每台显示屏的右边都有一个掌形的按钮。我试着按下了第二座内容是城堡的，瞬间我的感觉又断了线。回过神来时，面前的情景赫然正是屏幕里的情景，直觉告诉我神秘事件肯定就在其中。尽管这里到处弥满着一种压抑、阴森的气氛，远处也不断传来狼群的嚎叫，但我还是没多考虑就往城堡里走。因为自由，哪怕是主宰口中的自由，对我这样一个已经一百零九年没有感受过自由快乐的人来说依然是不可抗拒的。
这里是一座地道的中世纪城堡。奇怪的是墙上的两张挂毯上画着的分别是我暗恋多年的天使爱伦与骑士打扮的自己。难道主宰竟已知道我内心深处的点点滴滴？不禁一丝诡异油然而升，因为我以为我喜欢女人称我白马王子的虚荣和偷偷喜欢爱伦的感情向来隐藏得很好，我实在对挂毯上的内容无法理解，莫非这是主宰向我暗示在它背后想要偷偷作什么手脚都无异于作茧自缚？带着这样的疑问我进入了左边的房间。
这里的一切看上去都象是一间皇室成员的卧室。我四下看了看，发现书柜是能对我有帮助的。我抽取了几本翻看，其中有《堂·吉克德》、《浮士德》、《但丁神曲》。不过最能引起我注意的倒是国王的手记（JOURNEY）， 里面说到了这个城堡中发生的故事：国王娶了一个漂亮的新娘，自然她成了公主爱伦的后母。可这位新娘非常迷恋邪恶的黑魔法，终于有一天她开始变老变丑，爱伦则突然陷入昏迷，沉睡不起。国王面对这突如其来的变化不知所措，只得在王后的建议下派出一队又一队的士兵远行求解药，但是都杳无音讯。最后国王不得不冒着狼群吞噬的威胁亲自出马，结果同样一去不返……
看完这个城堡没落史后，我走进了中间的房间，只见一名柔美却又憔悴的女子躺在床上，上前一看，她就是爱伦。看到面前这个自己朝思暮想的女人，我的心情真是难以言状。当我靠近她时，她醒了过来并用非常细微的声音告诉我她觉得自己已时日不多了。她很坚信自己的奇怪病症是由她的后母造成的。因为自从后母开始变丑变老，这个心如蛇蝎的女子就对一切美丽的事物产生了无比憎恨，作为青春美丽的爱伦当然成了她首选的报复对象。幸好爱伦有一面小镜作为自己的护身符，才使后母不敢靠近她。所以爱伦要我去梳妆台取来小镜给她，可我却无论如何也无法找到它，最后只得把这个不幸的消息告诉她。爱伦得知后竟非常激动，口口声声要我千万要找回这面镜子，因为它除了能驱赶她的后母，还能了结她悲惨的命运。我无奈的答应了她，尽管我知道她所谓的“了结”就是死，不过这也许的确是能替她解脱痛苦的唯一办法了。
右边的房间充满了一股邪气，这一定是王后的寝室。我见地板上有一片带血的玻璃碎片就把它收入了囊中。书架上摆放着许多有关黑魔法的书，其中有一本中的一段文字下面划了红线，所以我暗暗记下了上面的内容“沙加特（SURGAT），可以开启任何锁的恶魔”。
下面的房间一看便知是厨房，这里有位的女佣正在忙着干活。我彬彬有礼的向她询问镜子的下落，怎料她却一个劲的骚姿弄首，分明是想我和她温柔一夜。我心爱的爱伦早已占据了我所有的心灵，因此我断然拒绝了她的要求。对于我的答复她非常不快，转而要我修理边上那台破炉子。我弄了一身臭汗修好后才知那女佣对镜子根本一无所知。愚弄！欺骗！这些作法曾是我对许多女子经常把玩的伎俩，现在终于也轮到自己了，也许这真是报应！
离开厨房，我就听见远处有人在窃窃私语。他们说爱伦现在这种半死不活的情况根本就受了诅咒的结果。最后他们提到需要一名王子来打开通往另一世界的门，这是什么意思？迫切的心情促使我循着声音向最右边的门走去，来到了一个祭坛模样的地方，此地给我的感觉与王后的寝室一样邪恶。可刚才似乎还在这里谈话的人却已不知去向，倒是这里其中一尊石像鬼雕像手中的小雕像兴许能派上用场。果然我用它不费吹灰之力就修好了大门，接着我推动边上的骑士盔甲顶住大门。这下我总算可以摆脱那些嗜血狼群的威胁了。回到祭坛那里，我仔细的搜查了一遍，因为我总觉得那些人不可能凭空消失。经过一番努力，最终在我推动右边的一个火把时，边上的石像竟凹陷入墙中让出了一条暗道。
籍由暗道我来到了密室里，映入眼帘的景象一点也不出我的意料，地上是一个由蜡烛和白线构成的五芒星，墙上则挂着奇怪的符号。站在面前的那老婆娘无疑一定是爱伦那个走火入魔的后母了。她激动的说我就是王子，只有我能够拯救爱伦，因为只有我可以开启通往另一世界的通道。我和她你来我往的谈了好一会儿。原来这个女人也要我把镜子找来，但她要我弄碎它，因为只有这样她才能接近爱伦，才能把爱伦作为祭品来成就她的魔法仪式。为此她开出了让我得到自由的条件。这时我才明白主宰所谓的得到自由原来是要我背叛自己最心爱的人。是的，我渴望自由，但我宁可被永远禁锢也绝不背叛爱伦！
当我回到爱伦的房间里，一旁竟突然冒出个红衣恶魔。一问才知它正等着接收爱伦那即将脱壳而出的灵魂。我忙把这告诉了爱伦，可对生命早已失去信心的她对此根本无动于衷，她只想我能找来那面能让她最终解脱的镜子。
我到王后的寝室翻遍所有的书希望能有什么新发现，终于如愿以偿的找到了召唤恶魔沙加特的方法和施在爱伦身上的魔法咒语。我立刻回到密室对那个黑心黑肺的女人以毒攻毒，果然在我念完咒语之后，她应声倒下，手中掉出了一支粉笔。我照着书中所述，用粉笔完成魔法阵唤来了恶魔沙加特。这个面目丑陋的家伙声称自己被召唤后需要完成一个交易才能回到它的世界。而我一直怀疑厨房里那个锁着的房间藏着秘密，所以就希望它能替我把那里打开。但是沙加特因为被召唤而失去了任何的特殊能力，得要一些食物来恢复。我不假思索的就交出了带血的玻璃碎片，这对它来说应该是再合适不过了。
沙加特没有食言，在它品尝着鲜血的美味时已经把那扇门打开了，所以我到那里只一推，门就开了。迎面我就看见一幅大挂毯，上面的内容正是那红衣恶魔，而它手中握着的分明就是那面镜子。原来是这家伙搞的鬼。在和它当面对质之前，我还是先回沙加特那里，告诉它我们之间的交易已经完成了。谁知它竟说这只算是蒜皮小事，而它所谓的大交易是让它得到一个大祭品——爱伦的灵魂，对我而言则是替我打开通向另一个世界的门给我自由。自由和爱情，面对我最珍爱的两样东西，我无法作出割舍，只得暂时告别沙加特先去找红衣恶魔对质。
当我再次进入爱伦的房间时，爱伦的另一旁又出现了一个天使。于是我就先和它谈了谈，原来它是来指引爱伦的灵魂上天堂的。接着我开始向那恶魔追问镜子的下落，它知道我看到了挂毯无法抵赖，只得告诉我镜子藏在一个天使永远也不可能靠近的地方。对，一定在那儿！我立刻赶到左边的房间里从书架上取下《但丁神曲（DIVINE COMEDY）》，果然镜子就在这本描写地狱的书中。
回到爱伦那里，我先用这面神镜把恶魔吸进去，再把它交给了爱伦。我最爱的女子看了看镜子终于结束了痛苦的生命。一旁的天使临走前安慰我，她已经前往天国了，我应该可以放心了。
爱伦已经走了，我也该作个了结了。在沙加特的魔法阵前我把镜子砸碎放出了恶魔，这下两个家伙开始争吵不休，忽然沙加特冲我诡秘的一笑：“我会完成我们之间的交易的。”忽然我发现自己已身处一片荒凉的废墟之中，耳畔传来沙加特的声音：“这就是地球，现在这里除了死亡还有什么……”
眼前的情景再度回到黑暗，我知道游戏结束了……
第六章 主宰的末日
五人又回到了原来充满痛苦的梦魇中，突然有两个宣称是主宰分身的声音出现了，他们说现在主宰开始有了弱点，只要五人中有人愿意牺牲肉体变成病毒进入主宰的大脑中，就有机会彻底摧毁它。尼达克义无反顾的率先接受了这个任务……
虽然我知道我这样做也许根本是以卵击石，但即使是会落得个粉身碎骨的下场我也绝不会放弃这个机会的——我这样的告诉自己。打开了面前有一台电脑，我试着输入了那个恶贯满盈、代表了我所有的罪恶的年代“1945”，从而进入了系统。然后我选择了“延伸桥梁”，只见右边的大坑的对岸伸出了一只机械手掌。通过手掌我来到了一处被火焰包围的五芒星祭坛。 直觉告诉我得用召唤的粉笔（SUMMONING），果然召来了恶魔沙加特。 在和他的一番唇枪舌剑中所得知的一条消息却差点让我停止了心跳：月球上还有一些被冷藏的人类！突然的我觉得自己肩上的担子似乎重了数千倍，我将要做的事已不仅仅是我自己的复仇，整个人类的命运已掌握我的手中……。一番争执后我坚决不给它意味毁灭的光碟（ENTROPY）。 当它退而求次要我使用代表同情的娃娃（COMPASSION），我才将其给了它。沙加特消失了，取而代之的是主宰体内代表俄国与中国的电脑化身，它们在发泄了一通对主宰的不满后就怂恿我去破坏主宰，并告知了我方法。哼，也许你们是真心要消灭主宰，但你们与主宰并没有什么本质的区别。虽然心中对它们并不信任，但为了消灭主宰，我只好先按它们所说的那样把代表主宰的本我（EGO）、自我（ID）、 超我（SUPEREGO）驱赶到祭坛。我先一一唤醒了它们，然后分别对本我使用代表原谅的日记（FORGIVENESS）、对自我使用代表同情的娃娃、 对超我使用代表清晰的镜子（CLARITY），终于把它们都送到了祭坛。
当这些丑恶的面孔聚集在了一起时，一出闹剧也随之上演了。它们相互吹捧着，讨论着如何折磨月球上的750条生命，因为对它们而言这750个人只是除我们五人外的另外750个玩具！我冷眼旁观着。虽然显得十分冷静， 但我知道握着代表毁灭的光盘的手心中已满是汗水。而整个人类的存亡也就在这只手中了。噢，该结束了，一切都结束了！主宰，你号称永生不灭的生命也该结束了！我慢慢的举起了光盘……
（注：游戏中一切的动作只限于行走（WALK TO）、观察（LOOK AT）、拿取（TAKE）、使用（USE）、 交谈（TALK TO）、咀嚼（SWALLOW）、交给（GIVE）、推动（PUSH）、八个动作，而以上攻略为了保持故事的完整与通畅没有刻意的把以上的这些关键动作一一扣入文中，请玩家游戏时略加尝试。）
以下为英文小说
I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream
by Harlan Ellison
Limp, the body of Gorrister hung from the pink palette; unsupported—hanging high above us in the computer chamber; and it did not shiver in the chill, oily breeze that blew eternally through the main cavern. The body hung head down, attached to the underside of the palette by the sole of its right foot. It had been drained of blood through a precise incision made from ear to ear under the lantern jaw. There was no blood on the reflective surface of the metal floor.
When Gorrister joined our group and looked up at himself, it was already too late for us to realize that, once again, AM had duped us, had had its fun; it had been a diversion on the part of the machine. Three of us had vomited, turning away from one another in a reflex as ancient as the nausea that had produced it.
Gorrister went white. It was almost as though he had seen a voodoo icon, and was afraid of the future. "Oh, God," he mumbled, and walked away. The three of us followed him after a time, and found him sitting with his back to one of the smaller chittering banks, his head in his hands. Ellen knelt down beside him and stroked his hair. He didn't move, but his voice came out of his covered face quite clearly. "Why doesn't it just do us in and get it over with? Christ, I don't know how much longer I can go on like this."
It was our one hundred and ninth year in the computer.
He was speaking for all of us.
Nimdok (which was the name the machine had forced him to use, because AM amused itself with strange sounds) was hallucinating that there were canned goods in the ice caverns. Gorrister and I were very dubious. "It's another shuck," I told them. "Like the goddam frozen elephant AM sold us. Benny almost went out of his mind over that one. We'll hike all that way and it'll be putrified or some damn thing. I say forget it. Stay here, it'll have to come up with something pretty soon or we'll die."
Benny shrugged. Three days it had been since we'd last eaten. Worms. Thick, ropey.
Nimdok was no more certain. He knew there was the chance, but he was getting thin. It couldn't be any worse there, than here. Colder, but that didn't matter much. Hot, cold, hail, lava, boils or locusts—it never mattered: the machine masturbated and we had to take it or die.
Ellen decided us. "I've got to have something, Ted. Maybe there'll be some Bartlett pears or peaches. Please, Ted, let's try it."
I gave in easily. What the hell. Mattered not at all. Ellen was grateful, though. She took me twice out of turn. Even that had ceased to matter. And she never came, so why bother? But the machine giggled every time we did it. Loud, up there, back there, all around us, he snickered. It snickered. Most of the time I thought of AM as it, without a soul; but the rest of the time I thought of it as him, in the masculine … the paternal … the patriarchal … for he is a jealous people. Him. It. God as Daddy the Deranged.
We left on a Thursday. The machine always kept us up-to-date on the date. The passage of time was important; not to us, sure as hell, but to him … it … AM. Thursday. Thanks.
Nimdok and Gorrister carried Ellen for a while, their hands locked to their own and each other's wrists, a seat. Benny and I walked before and after, just to make sure that, if anything happened, it would catch one of us and at least Ellen would be safe. Fat chance, safe. Didn't matter.
It was only a hundred miles or so to the ice caverns, and the second day, when we were lying out under the blistering sun-thing he had materialized, he sent down some manna. Tasted like boiled boar urine. We ate it.
On the third day we passed through a valley of obsolescence, filled with rusting carcasses of ancient computer banks. AM had been as ruthless with its own life as with ours. It was a mark of his personality: it strove for perfection. Whether it was a matter of killing off unproductive elements in his own world-filling bulk, or perfecting methods for torturing us, AM was as thorough as those who had invented him—now long since gone to dust—could ever have hoped.
There was light filtering down from above, and we realized we must be very near the surface. But we didn't try to crawl up to see. There was virtually nothing out there; had been nothing that could be considered anything for over a hundred years. Only the blasted skin of what had once been the home of billions. Now there were only five of us, down here inside, alone with AM.
I heard Ellen saying frantically, "No, Benny! Don't, come on, Benny, don't please!"
And then I realized I had been hearing Benny murmuring, under his breath, for several minutes. He was saying, "I'm gonna get out, I'm gonna get out …" over and over. His monkey-like face was crumbled up in an expression of beatific delight and sadness, all at the same time. The radiation scars AM had given him during the "festival" were drawn down into a mass of pink-white puckerings, and his features seemed to work independently of one another. Perhaps Benny was the luckiest of the five of us: he had gone stark, staring mad many years before.
But even though we could call AM any damned thing we liked, could think the foulest thoughts of fused memory banks and corroded base plates, of burnt out circuits and shattered control bubbles, the machine would not tolerate our trying to escape. Benny leaped away from me as I made a grab for him. He scrambled up the face of a smaller memory cube, tilted on its side and filled with rotted components. He squatted there for a moment, looking like the chimpanzee AM had intended him to resemble.
Then he leaped high, caught a trailing beam of pitted and corroded metal, and went up it, hand-over-hand like an animal, till he was on a girdered ledge, twenty feet above us.
"Oh, Ted, Nimdok, please, help him, get him down before—" She cut off. Tears began to stand in her eyes. She moved her hands aimlessly.
It was too late. None of us wanted to be near him when whatever was going to happen, happened. And besides, we all saw through her concern. When AM had altered Benny, during the machine's utterly irrational, hysterical phase, it was not merely Benny's face the computer had made like a giant ape's. He was big in the privates; she loved that! She serviced us, as a matter of course, but she loved it from him. Oh Ellen, pedestal Ellen, pristine-pure Ellen; oh Ellen the clean! Scum filth.
Gorrister slapped her. She slumped down, staring up at poor loonie Benny, and she cried. It was her big defense, crying. We had gotten used to it seventy-five years earlier. Gorrister kicked her in the side.
Then the sound began. It was light, that sound. Half sound and half light, something that began to glow from Benny's eyes, and pulse with growing loudness, dim sonorities that grew more gigantic and brighter as the light/sound increased in tempo. It must have been painful, and the pain must have been increasing with the boldness of the light, the rising volume of the sound, for Benny began to mewl like a wounded animal. At first softly, when the light was dim and the sound was muted, then louder as his shoulders hunched together: his back humped, as though he was trying to get away from it. His hands folded across his chest like a chipmunk's. His head tilted to the side. The sad little monkey-face pinched in anguish. Then he began to howl, as the sound coming from his eyes grew louder. Louder and louder. I slapped the sides of my head with my hands, but I couldn't shut it out, it cut through easily. The pain shivered through my flesh like tinfoil on a tooth.
And Benny was suddenly pulled erect. On the girder he stood up, jerked to his feet like a puppet. The light was now pulsing out of his eyes in two great round beams. The sound crawled up and up some incomprehensible scale, and then he fell forward, straight down, and hit the plate-steel floor with a crash. He lay there jerking spastically as the light flowed around and around him and the sound spiraled up out of normal range.
Then the light beat its way back inside his head, the sound spiraled down, and he was left lying there, crying piteously.
His eyes were two soft, moist pools of pus-like jelly. AM had blinded him. Gorrister and Nimdok and myself … we turned away. But not before we caught the look of relief on Ellen's warm, concerned face.
Sea-green light suffused the cavern where we made camp. AM provided punk and we burned it, sitting huddled around the wan and pathetic fire, telling stories to keep Benny from crying in his permanent night.
"What does AM mean?"
Gorrister answered him. We had done this sequence a thousand times before, but it was Benny's favorite story. "At first it meant Allied Mastercomputer, and then it meant Adaptive Manipulator, and later on it developed sentience and linked itself up and they called it an Aggressive Menace, but by then it was too late, and finally it called itself AM, emerging intelligence, and what it meant was I am … cogito ergo sum … I think, therefore I am."
Benny drooled a little, and snickered.
"There was the Chinese AM and the Russian AM and the Yankee AM and—" He stopped. Benny was beating on the floorplates with a large, hard fist. He was not happy. Gorrister had not started at the beginning.
Gorrister began again. "The Cold War started and became World War Three and just kept going. It became a big war, a very complex war, so they needed the computers to handle it. They sank the first shafts and began building AM. There was the Chinese AM and the Russian AM and the Yankee AM and everything was fine until they had honeycombed the entire planet, adding on this element and that element. But one day AM woke up and knew who he was, and he linked himself, and he began feeding all the killing data, until everyone was dead, except for the five of us, and AM brought us down here."
Benny was smiling sadly. He was also drooling again. Ellen wiped the spittle from the corner of his mouth with the hem of her skirt. Gorrister always tried to tell it a little more succinctly each time, but beyond the bare facts there was nothing to say. None of us knew why AM had saved five people, or why our specific five, or why he spent all his time tormenting us, or even why he had made us virtually immortal …
In the darkness, one of the computer banks began humming. The tone was picked up half a mile away down the cavern by another bank. Then one by one, each of the elements began to tune itself, and there was a faint chittering as thought raced through the machine.
The sound grew, and the lights ran across the faces of the consoles like heat lightening. The sound spiraled up till it sounded like a million metallic insects, angry, menacing.
"What is it?" Ellen cried. There was terror in her voice. She hadn't become accustomed to it, even now.
"It's going to be bad this time," Nimdok said.
"He's going to speak," Gorrister said. "I know it."
"Let's get the hell out of here!" I said suddenly, getting to my feet.
"No, Ted, sit down … what if he's got pits out there, or something else, we can't see, it's too dark." Gorrister said it with resignation.
Then we heard … I don't know …
Something moving toward us in the darkness. Huge, shambling, hairy, moist, it came toward us. We couldn't even see it, but there was the ponderous impression of bulk, heaving itself toward us. Great weight was coming at us, out of the darkness, and it was more a sense of pressure, of air forcing itself into a limited space, expanding the invisible walls of a sphere. Benny began to whimper. Nimdok's lower lip trembled and he bit it hard, trying to stop it. Ellen slid across the metal floor to Gorrister and huddled into him. There was the smell of matted, wet fur in the cavern. There was the smell of charred wood. There was the smell of dusty velvet. There was the smell of rotting orchids. There was the smell of sour milk. There was the smell of sulphur, of rancid butter, of oil slick, of grease, of chalk dust, of human scalps.
AM was keying us. He was tickling us. There was the smell of—
I heard myself shriek, and the hinges of my jaws ached. I scuttled across the floor, across the cold metal with its endless lines of rivets, on my hands and knees, the smell gagging me, filling my head with a thunderous pain that sent me away in horror. I fled like a cockroach, across the floor and out into the darkness, that something moving inexorably after me. The others were still back there, gathered around the firelight, laughing … their hysterical choir of insane giggles rising up into the darkness like thick, many-colored wood smoke. I went away, quickly, and hid.
How many hours it may have been, how many days or even years, they never told me. Ellen chided me for "sulking," and Nimdok tried to persuade me it had only been a nervous reflex on their part—the laughing.
But I knew it wasn't the relief a soldier feels when the bullet hits the man next to him. I knew it wasn't a reflex. They hated me. They were surely against me, and AM could even sense this hatred, and made it worse for me because of the depth of their hatred. We had been kept alive, rejuvenated, made to remain constantly at the age we had been when AM had brought us below, and they hated me because I was the youngest, and the one AM had affected least of all.
I knew. God, how I knew. The bastards, and that dirty bitch Ellen. Benny had been a brilliant theorist, a college professor; now he was little more than a semi-human, semi-simian. He had been handsome, the machine had ruined that. He had been lucid, the machine had driven him mad. He had been gay, and the machine had given him an organ fit for a horse. AM had done a job on Benny. Gorrister had been a worrier. He was a connie, a conscientious objector; he was a peace marcher; he was a planner, a doer, a looker-ahead. AM had turned him into a shoulder-shrugger, had made him a little dead in his concern. AM had robbed him. Nimdok went off in the darkness by himself for long times. I don't know what it was he did out there, AM never let us know. But whatever it was, Nimdok always came back white, drained of blood, shaken, shaking. AM had hit him hard in a special way, even if we didn't know quite how. And Ellen. That douche bag! AM had left her alone, had made her more of a slut than she had ever been. All her talk of sweetness and light, all her memories of true love, all the lies she wanted us to believe: that she had been a virgin only twice removed before AM grabbed her and brought her down here with us. No, AM had given her pleasure, even if she said it wasn't nice to do.
I was the only one still sane and whole. Really!
AM had not tampered with my mind. Not at all.
I only had to suffer what he visited down on us. All the delusions, all the nightmares, the torments. But those scum, all four of them, they were lined and arrayed against me. If I hadn't had to stand them off all the time, be on my guard against them all the time, I might have found it easier to combat AM.
At which point it passed, and I began crying.
Oh, Jesus sweet Jesus, if there ever was a Jesus and if there is a God, please please please let us out of here, or kill us. Because at that moment I think I realized completely, so that I was able to verbalize it: AM was intent on keeping us in his belly forever, twisting and torturing us forever. The machine hated us as no sentient creature had ever hated before. And we were helpless. It also became hideously clear:
If there was a sweet Jesus and if there was a God, the God was AM.
The hurricane hit us with the force of a glacier thundering into the sea. It was a palpable presence. Winds that tore at us, flinging us back the way we had come, down the twisting, computer-lined corridors of the darkway. Ellen screamed as she was lifted and hurled face-forward into a screaming shoal of machines, their individual voices strident as bats in flight. She could not even fall. The howling wind kept her aloft, buffeted her, bounced her, tossed her back and back and down and away from us, out of sight suddenly as she was swirled around a bend in the darkway. Her face had been bloody, her eyes closed.
None of us could get to her. We clung tenaciously to whatever outcropping we had reached: Benny wedged in between two great crackle-finish cabinets, Nimdok with fingers claw-formed over a railing circling a catwalk forty feet above us, Gorrister plastered upside-down against a wall niche formed by two great machines with glass-faced dials that swung back and forth between red and yellow lines whose meanings we could not even fathom.
Sliding across the deckplates, the tips of my fingers had been ripped away. I was trembling, shuddering, rocking as the wind beat at me, whipped at me, screamed down out of nowhere at me and pulled me free from one sliver-thin opening in the plates to the next. My mind was a roiling tinkling chittering softness of brain parts that expanded and contracted in quivering frenzy.
The wind was the scream of a great mad bird, as it flapped its immense wings.
And then we were all lifted and hurled away from there, down back the way we had come, around a bend, into a darkway we had never explored, over terrain that was ruined and filled with broken glass and rotting cables and rusted metal and far away, farther than any of us had ever been …
Trailing along miles behind Ellen, I could see her every now and then, crashing into metal walls and surging on, with all of us screaming in the freezing, thunderous hurricane wind that would never end and then suddenly it stopped and we fell. We had been in flight for an endless time. I thought it might have been weeks. We fell, and hit, and I went through red and gray and black and heard myself moaning. Not dead.
AM went into my mind. He walked smoothly here and there, and looked with interest at all the pock marks he had created in one hundred and nine years. He looked at the cross-routed and reconnected synapses and all the tissue damage his gift of immortality had included. He smiled softly at the pit that dropped into the center of my brain and the faint, moth-soft murmurings of the things far down there that gibbered without meaning, without pause. AM said, very politely, in a pillar of stainless steel bearing bright neon lettering:
AM said it with the sliding cold horror of a razor blade slicing my eyeball. AM said it with the bubbling thickness of my lungs filling with phlegm, drowning me from within. AM said it with the shriek of babies being ground beneath blue-hot rollers. AM said it with the taste of maggoty pork. AM touched me in every way I had ever been touched, and devised new ways, at his leisure, there inside my mind.
All to bring me to full realization of why it had done this to the five of us; why it had saved us for himself.
We had given AM sentience. Inadvertently, of course, but sentience nonetheless. But it had been trapped. AM wasn't God, he was a machine. We had created him to think, but there was nothing it could do with that creativity. In rage, in frenzy, the machine had killed the human race, almost all of us, and still it was trapped. AM could not wander, AM could not wonder, AM could not belong. He could merely be. And so, with the innate loathing that all machines had always held for the weak, soft creatures who had built them, he had sought revenge. And in his paranoia, he had decided to reprieve five of us, for a personal, everlasting punishment that would never serve to diminish his hatred … that would merely keep him reminded, amused, proficient at hating man. Immortal, trapped, subject to any torment he could devise for us from the limitless miracles at his command.
He would never let us go. We were his belly slaves. We were all he had to do with his forever time. We would be forever with him, with the cavern-filling bulk of the creature machine, with the all-mind soulless world he had become. He was Earth, and we were the fruit of that Earth; and though he had eaten us, he would never digest us. We could not die. We had tried it. We had attempted suicide, oh one or two of us had. But AM had stopped us. I suppose we had wanted to be stopped.
Don't ask why. I never did. More than a million times a day. Perhaps once we might be able to sneak a death past him. Immortal, yes, but not indestructible. I saw that when AM withdrew from my mind, and allowed me the exquisite ugliness of returning to consciousness with the feeling of that burning neon pillar still rammed deep into the soft gray brain matter.
He withdrew, murmuring to hell with you.
And added, brightly, but then you're there, aren't you.
The hurricane had, indeed, precisely, been caused by a great mad bird, as it flapped its immense wings.
We had been travelling for close to a month, and AM had allowed passages to open to us only sufficient to lead us up there, directly under the North Pole, where it had nightmared the creature for our torment. What whole cloth had he employed to create such a beast? Where had he gotten the concept? From our minds? From his knowledge of everything that had ever been on this planet he now infested and ruled? From Norse mythology it had sprung, this eagle, this carrion bird, this roc, this Huergelmir. The wind creature. Hurakan incarnate.
Gigantic. The words immense, monstrous, grotesque, massive, swollen, overpowering, beyond description. There on a mound rising above us, the bird of winds heaved with its own irregular breathing, its snake neck arching up into the gloom beneath the North Pole, supporting a head as large as a Tudor mansion; a beak that opened slowly as the jaws of the most monstrous crocodile ever conceived, sensuously; ridges of tufted flesh puckered about two evil eyes, as cold as the view down into a glacial crevasse, ice blue and somehow moving liquidly; it heaved once more, and lifted its great sweat-colored wings in a movement that was certainly a shrug. Then it settled and slept. Talons. Fangs. Nails. Blades. It slept.
AM appeared to us as a burning bush and said we could kill the hurricane bird if we wanted to eat. We had not eaten in a very long time, but even so, Gorrister merely shrugged. Benny began to shiver and he drooled. Ellen held him. "Ted, I'm hungry," she said. I smiled at her; I was trying to be reassuring, but it was as phony as Nimdok's bravado: "Give us weapons!" he demanded.
The burning bush vanished and there were two crude sets of bows and arrows, and a water pistol, lying on the cold deckplates. I picked up a set. Useless.
Nimdok swallowed heavily. We turned and started the long way back. The hurricane bird had blown us about for a length of time we could not conceive. Most of that time we had been unconscious. But we had not eaten. A month on the march to the bird itself. Without food. Now how much longer to find our way to the ice caverns, and the promised canned goods?
None of us cared to think about it. We would not die. We would be given filth and scum to eat, of one kind or another. Or nothing at all. AM would keep our bodies alive somehow, in pain, in agony.
The bird slept back there, for how long it didn't matter; when AM was tired of its being there, it would vanish. But all that meat. All that tender meat.
As we walked, the lunatic laugh of a fat woman rang high and around us in the computer chambers that led endlessly nowhere.
It was not Ellen's laugh. She was not fat, and I had not heard her laugh for one hundred and nine years. In fact, I had not heard … we walked … I was hungry …
We moved slowly. There was often fainting, and we would have to wait. One day he decided to cause an earthquake, at the same time rooting us to the spot with nails through the soles of our shoes. Ellen and Nimdok were both caught when a fissure shot its lightning-bolt opening across the floorplates. They disappeared and were gone. When the earthquake was over we continued on our way, Benny, Gorrister and myself. Ellen and Nimdok were returned to us later that night, which abruptly became a day, as the heavenly legion bore them to us with a celestial chorus singing, "Go Down Moses." The archangels circled several times and then dropped the hideously mangled bodies. We kept walking, and a while later Ellen and Nimdok fell in behind us. They were no worse for wear.
But now Ellen walked with a limp. AM had left her that.
It was a long trip to the ice caverns, to find the canned food. Ellen kept talking about Bing cherries and Hawaiian fruit cocktail. I tried not to think about it. The hunger was something that had come to life, even as AM had come to life. It was alive in my belly, even as we were in the belly of the Earth, and AM wanted the similarity known to us. So he heightened the hunger. There is no way to describe the pains that not having eaten for months brought us. And yet we were kept alive. Stomachs that were merely cauldrons of acid, bubbling, foaming, always shooting spears of sliver-thin pain into our chests. It was the pain of the terminal ulcer, terminal cancer, terminal paresis. It was unending pain …
And we passed through the cavern of rats.
And we passed through the path of boiling steam.
And we passed through the country of the blind.
And we passed through the slough of despond.
And we passed through the vale of tears.
And we came, finally, to the ice caverns. Horizonless thousands of miles in which the ice had formed in blue and silver flashes, where novas lived in the glass. The downdropping stalactites as thick and glorious as diamonds that had been made to run like jelly and then solidified in graceful eternities of smooth, sharp perfection.
We saw the stack of canned goods, and we tried to run to them. We fell in the snow, and we got up and went on, and Benny shoved us away and went at them, and pawed them and gummed them and gnawed at them, and he could not open them. AM had not given us a tool to open the cans.
Benny grabbed a three quart can of guava shells, and began to batter it against the ice bank. The ice flew and shattered, but the can was merely dented, while we heard the laughter of a fat lady, high overhead and echoing down and down and down the tundra. Benny went completely mad with rage. He began throwing cans, as we all scrabbled about in the snow and ice trying to find a way to end the helpless agony of frustration. There was no way.
Then Benny's mouth began to drool, and he flung himself on Gorrister …
In that instant, I felt terribly calm.
Surrounded by madness, surrounded by hunger, surrounded by everything but death, I knew death was our only way out. AM had kept us alive, but there was a way to defeat him. Not total defeat, but at least peace. I would settle for that.
I had to do it quickly.
Benny was eating Gorrister's face. Gorrister on his side, thrashing snow, Benny wrapped around him with powerful monkey legs crushing Gorrister's waist, his hands locked around Gorrister's head like a nutcracker, and his mouth ripping at the tender skin of Gorrister's cheek. Gorrister screamed with such jagged-edged violence that stalactites fell; they plunged down softly, erect in the receiving snowdrifts. Spears, hundreds of them, everywhere, protruding from the snow. Benny's head pulled back sharply, as something gave all at once, and a bleeding raw-white dripping of flesh hung from his teeth.
Ellen's face, black against the white snow, dominoes in chalk dust. Nimdok, with no expression but eyes, all eyes. Gorrister, half-conscious. Benny, now an animal. I knew AM would let him play. Gorrister would not die, but Benny would fill his stomach. I turned half to my right and drew a huge ice-spear from the snow.
All in an instant:
I drove the great ice-point ahead of me like a battering ram, braced against my right thigh. It struck Benny on the right side, just under the rib cage, and drove upward through his stomach and broke inside him. He pitched forward and lay still. Gorrister lay on his back. I pulled another spear free and straddled him, still moving, driving the spear straight down through his throat. His eyes closed as the cold penetrated. Ellen must have realized what I had decided, even as fear gripped her. She ran at Nimdok with a short icicle, as he screamed, and into his mouth, and the force of her rush did the job. His head jerked sharply as if it had been nailed to the snow crust behind him.
All in an instant.
There was an eternity beat of soundless anticipation. I could hear AM draw in his breath. His toys had been taken from him. Three of them were dead, could not be revived. He could keep us alive, by his strength and talent, but he was not God. He could not bring them back.
Ellen looked at me, her ebony features stark against the snow that surrounded us. There was fear and pleading in her manner, the way she held herself ready. I knew we had only a heartbeat before AM would stop us.
It struck her and she folded toward me, bleeding from the mouth. I could not read meaning into her expression, the pain had been too great, had contorted her face; but it might have been thank you. It's possible. Please.
Some hundreds of years may have passed. I don't know. AM has been having fun for some time, accelerating and retarding my time sense. I will say the word now. Now. It took me ten months to say now. I don't know. I think it has been some hundreds of years.
He was furious. He wouldn't let me bury them. It didn't matter. There was no way to dig up the deckplates. He dried up the snow. He brought the night. He roared and sent locusts. It didn't do a thing; they stayed dead. I'd had him. He was furious. I had thought AM hated me before. I was wrong. It was not even a shadow of the hate he now slavered from every printed circuit. He made certain I would suffer eternally and could not do myself in.
He left my mind intact. I can dream, I can wonder, I can lament. I remember all four of them. I wish—
Well, it doesn't make any sense. I know I saved them, I know I saved them from what has happened to me, but still, I cannot forget killing them. Ellen's face. It isn't easy. Sometimes I want to, it doesn't matter.
AM has altered me for his own peace of mind, I suppose. He doesn't want me to run at full speed into a computer bank and smash my skull. Or hold my breath till I faint. Or cut my throat on a rusted sheet of metal. There are reflective surfaces down here. I will describe myself as I see myself:
I am a great soft jelly thing. Smoothly rounded, with no mouth, with pulsing white holes filled by fog where my eyes used to be. Rubbery appendages that were once my arms; bulks rounding down into legless humps of soft slippery matter. I leave a moist trail when I move. Blotches of diseased, evil gray come and go on my surface, as though light is being beamed from within.
Outwardly: dumbly, I shamble about, a thing that could never have been known as human, a thing whose shape is so alien a travesty that humanity becomes more obscene for the vague resemblance.
Inwardly: alone. Here. Living under the land, under the sea, in the belly of AM, whom we created because our time was badly spent and we must have known unconsciously that he could do it better. At least the four of them are safe at last.
AM will be all the madder for that. It makes me a little happier. And yet … AM has won, simply … he has taken his revenge …
I have no mouth. And I must scream.
The End
"I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream" by Harlan Ellison. ? 1967 by Harlan Ellison. Renewed, ? 1995 by Harlan Ellison. Reprinted with permission of, and by arrangement with, the Author and the Author's agent, Richard Curtis Associates, Inc, New York, USA. All rights reserved.
Computer printouts for "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream" by Jeff Levin. ? 1987 by The Kilimanjaro Corporation.
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Lord of Meshal
