For a minute, Lonji couldn't move, daunted by what should have been an ordinary, everyday scene. But nothing was ordinary to him. There were men and women and children Oompa-Loompas, sitting in chairs, talking to each other in low voices, reading magazines, looking intently at devices that seemed to be miniature datapads.
"Lonji!"
The unfamiliar voice startled him, breaking him from his reverie. He looked for its owner, shock deepening when he saw a pretty woman about his height, waving for him to join her. Though he could hardly remember how to use his legs at the moment, he managed to stumble toward her, drawing pitied looks from other people.
They must think I'm retarded! He thought, mortified, though ordinarily he wouldn't care. He forced himself to walk smoothly, overcorrected, and tripped just before he reached his sister. He crashed into her and almost knocked her onto the floor, but she caught herself and helped him stand up, smiling cheerfully.
"Oh Lonji, you need to stop forgetting how to use your feet!"
She led him toward the exit, unaware that her brother was flushed in embarrassment. Lonji wondered if she was older than him, or vice versa, or if they were twins. He longed to ask her if they had any other siblings, or parents, and just how often she had needed to stop him from falling. A buzz from his sister's tunic startled him from his thoughts, but she was unperturbed.
"It must be granddad," she said, reaching into a pocket to pull out one of the miniature datapads.
"What's that?" Lonji said, knowing that it was probably a dumb question. Though his sister smiled skeptically, she answered anyway.
"It's a cellphone, dummy. Touchscreen. It's old tech from Earth, but new micro-processing devices make them far more efficient." She pushed open the door to the exit, and stepped outside, talking into the cellphone. Lonji followed her, momentarily blinded by the brightness of the two suns. But didn't Earth have one sun? This new Loompaland wasn't on Earth!
His eyes adjusted to the brightness, though he had to squint to compensate. He could see that they had come out of a building that poked out of the treetops, and were now standing on a large platform. Judging by the numerous vehicles there, it was most likely a parking lot.
"Hey, Lonji, let's go!"
His sister's voice shattered his thoughts again, and he frowned. Can't a guy have some time to think? Well…perhaps not out in this sunlight. He realized that he was feeling quite hot, sweat starting to soak through his tunic. He trotted over to where his sister stood, just outside one of the pod-shaped vehicles. It was three times as long as he was tall, fully enclosed, magenta colored…a designer model perhaps. She pressed the screen on her cellphone, and the pod thrummed, like it was starting up. She pressed the screen again, and the side of the pod slid open.
"How did you do that?" Lonji asked as they climbed in. He was familiar with some Earth technology, but he had thought cellphones were for talking to people, not operating vehicles.
His sister laughed.
"It's an app...that's short for 'application', if you've forgotten that, too . There's an app for almost everything nowadays." She paused before looking back at him. "Maybe we should get you a cellphone. You could download an app to record things, so you won't forget so much."
Lonji lowered his head, feeling like a failure for some reason. "And while we're talking about things forgotten, I...I think I forgot your name."
His sister's eyes widened, and a frightened look crossed her face. "My name? Your memory is getting worse then," she whispered quietly, as if struggling to hold back tears. "Dr. Galyan said you were improving, that the medication and exercises were helping. But you're still forgetting everything...our parents, our history, and now my name?" She swallowed, her fear replaced by bitterness. "And for what? For your real life and real memories to be replaced with that nonsense fantasy about living in Wonka's factory..."
"It's not nonsense!" Lonji snapped. He didn't realize he had done it until the words were out of his mouth, and he was sorry as soon as he had said it. His sister looked like she'd been slapped in the face, and she turned away from him. Lonji mentally kicked himself. He was frustrated, but that didn't mean he had to take it out on his sister...or dream sister...or whatever. He sighed.
"Look, I'm sorry...Sis. It's just been a very confusing day for me. I'm not sure what's real and what's not." Now he had a lump in his throat, and it was difficult to swallow down. "I need help, he managed to say, "Your help."
His sister did not respond for a minute, and Lonji was afraid he had hurt her. But she finally turned around and embraced him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"That's why your sister, Lylia, is here."
"Lylia," Lonji said to himself, hoping that he would not forget again, if he had indeed forgotten the first time. He returned the embrace, feeling something in his chest that he had never felt before, at least, not that he could remember. Love for a family, which he had never felt when he had been in Wonka's factory. Sure, he had felt like a brother and comrade to all the other workers, but there was never really any relationship outside of being a good friend to a few others, or gay couples. It was probably the one fault of having an all-male population, the one limitation of cloning millions from a single genetic template. In any case, it was one thing that Wonka could not offer to his workers, though Lonji felt scandalous just thinking it. He could not deny that his memories of the factory were real, but he could enjoy this dream-if it was a dream…while it lasted.
Lonji held his sister in the dimness of the transport pod for a while, and they both cried. It could have been hours. It could have been minutes. But the pod jarred abruptly to a halt, breaking the two from their embrace. Lonji hadn't even been aware that the vehicle had been moving, but it did, reaching their destination on autopilot. Lylia wiped her tears with the sleeve of her tunic and stood up. The door slid open, blinding Lonji again, but he followed Lylia with less apprehension than before. They emerged on another landing pad, this one smaller, and made of thick wooden planks rather than concrete. It was adjoined to a large, wooden house nestled in the treetops. Lylia started walking toward it.
"That's where we live?!" Lonji said, amazed. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. A far cry from the spherical huts the Oompa-loompa people had lived in so long ago, and nothing like the bunkrooms in Wonka's factory, this house was made with wooden beams, supported by great wooden pillars, and sported a beautiful garden edged with a wooden fence. There was a pathway that led up to the front doors, and the doors themselves were engraved with intricate, looping patterns.
"So much wood!" Lonji said, mostly to himself, but Lylia must have heard it. She turned around to face him, now walking backwards toward the house.
"Well in case you haven't noticed, wood is the most plentiful resource on the planet."
"And that planet would be..."
Lylia rolled her eyes.
"Oh, little brother, sometimes I wonder what planet you live on. Every kid learns about Loompaland history in school...New Loompaland, where we live now, was established on Praxuun V in the year 2600." She shook her head and turned around to face forward.
"Sometimes I wonder how you graduated from junior college with that faulty memory of yours."
The comment stung, but Lonji could see why she would think that way.
I graduated college, but I can't remember going to school here, or anything about this place!
They reached the front door, and Lylia produced a key, manually unlocking the door.
"No one uses real keys anymore, except a rebel few," she said for his benefit.
"But Dad said that soft keys, like cards and embedded chips, were easier to copy these days than real keys."
"How is Dad?" Lonji asked, putting on a hopeful smile. Lylia's grim expression dissolved it.
"Dad...and Mom...have been dead for three years, Lonji." She said the words gently, as if saying them aloud hurt her.
"How did it happen?" Lonji said, his mouth dry.
"It was a KNID ambush," she replied, her eyes dark with anger. "We thought that our military had wiped them off the face of the planet, but we were wrong. Mom, Dad, and you were on the ground, just taking a walk. You had never been on the ground before, since there's really no reason to go down there, so it was an adventure for you. But then the KNIDs struck, killing Dad, attacking you..." Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to finish. "Mom died protecting you. The Ground Patrol were alerted to the attack, and they nearly didn't get there in time to save you." She opened the door, but paused before going in. "I think that's where your memory problems began."
The news of his late parents dazed him. But even that was swept aside when Lonji stepped inside the house. If he had thought the exterior was amazing, the interior was even more so. Aside from lavish carpets and tapestries, various devices from different centuries adorned shelves, walls, and ceiling space. There were old televisions, radios, datapads, and even a lava lamp.
"That's a lot of stuff," Lonji said, not sure whether to be amazed by the collection of old tech, or by the fact that so many devices could be on display in such an orderly fashion. Other than rugs and carpets, nothing was on the floor, and the furniture was free of even the stray remote.
"Granddad likes to collect old technology," Lylia explained, setting her keys and purse on a table near the door.
"He says that one day we might need it, if all the new technology fails."
"Sounds like someone I know," Lonji said, thinking of OS-22, the Oompa-loompa commander and second-highest authority in Wonka's factory. Among the oldest of the Oompa-loompas, he was known to encourage the use of old tech alongside the new.
"Of course you do," Lylia said, "Granddad."
Afraid to disappoint her again, Lonji quickly nodded. "Uh, yeah. Where is he, anyway?"
"He called me when I was picking you up; he said that he was on his way home from the cocoa plant. I'm sure he'll be here shortly."
Lonji was about to ask her about this plant, but the door swung open before he could. He watched as an elderly Oompa-loompa, his salt-and-pepper hair cropped short, shuffled in. He was wearing a white uniform and carried a bag in hand. He noticed Lylia and set down his bag, then embraced her. "Ah, my dear; how are you today?"
She murmured something that her grandfather didn't seem to catch, but he was satisfied. He turned to Lonji with a smile, but his eyes betrayed sadness.
"How was your session with Dr. Galyan today, Lonji? Your memory improving, I hope?"
Though he wanted to please this man, Lonji could not risk hiding that there were huge gaps in his memories, relative to this world, at least. He decided to spring for the vague reply.
"It's getting better," he said, forcing a smile.
The grandfather nodded, but his eyes were still sad. "That's good to hear. Maybe things can get back to normal once your mind has healed." He shuffled away and disappeared down a hallway. Lylia had also gone up a stairway, probably to her room. Lonji found himself alone, feeling that awkwardness that comes from being in an unfamiliar house and not knowing where anything is. He swallowed, trying not to panic.
Okay, what would an agent do? Lonji thought, not bothering to question the validity of his memories at the moment. From what he knew, an agent from the secret police would probably calm himself and take stock of his surroundings. Good. Lonji breathed deeply, looking around. He was standing by the front door. The room he was in was large and spacious, and led off into a hallway and another large room that was probably a dining area. Across from him, the stairway rose up to the second floor. He listened for movement; he could hear creaking from above as Lylia walked around upstairs. Clinking echoed down from both the hallway and the dining area; both passages probably led to the kitchen, where the grandfather was tidying up. He had a general idea of the house's layout now, though he was sure that if he had his whole memory...or if he was the real Lonji...that he would feel more comfortable in this house. As it was, he didn't think he could ever think of this place as his home. He found himself longing for the great spacious bunkrooms back in Wonka's factory, that could each house up to fifty Oompa-loompas comfortably, and the great big washrooms with saunas and group showers, and the wide, echoing corridors that teemed with throngs of Oompa-loompas going to and from their workstations. Most of all, he missed the huge factory rooms with all the sweets and treats that anyone could ever ask for. Thinking about it made his mouth water, and his stomach rumbled loudly, realizing before he did that he was feeling quite hungry. When was the last time that Lonji...I...ate?
His grandfather appeared from the hallway, wiping his hands with a dishcloth. He must've heard Lonji's loud stomach, because his smile was now genuine, and his eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Sounds like somebody's hungry," he said. "Luckily your granddad knows how to whip up dinner."