Actuator

by Spinazzola, J.

  “About missing your board?”

  “What else?”

  “Is there anything else?”

  “Not for me. And you’re doing it again, Amelia.”

  “Answering a question with a question?”

  “Yes.”

  “So are you, Skip.”

  “That I am.”

  “So did it work? Did she respond?”

  “The last one moved her. Maybe she wanted to hear more about boarding.”

  “Or less.”

  “Or less, but she took an interest. Said she’d been in here a while. That she could help me adjust. Seemed like the caring type, so I tried to use that to open her. She didn’t say much at first, but eventually everyone chats.”

  “Not Marco.”

  “Right, I’ve heard that one.”

  “So?”

  “So we chatted. We chat. She tells me things. Like about the sweep and privileges, things I can look forward to.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like exercise privileges. She says if you received a bottle, maybe I could ask for a board when I earn the right to exercise. She said, ‘maybe they’ll let you board down the hall.’ But I was like, ‘ain’t going to happen.’ And it’d be a pretty lame surrogate anyway to boarding down an open road. She said it could be a start or something to hold me over till commencement. Old school, she called it commencement.”

  “She knows the old phrases. What else?”

  “She knows about you. To test her, see how much she knows, I asked her where they took the bottle she’d described. She said, ‘to the new girl.’ She said she saw Ms. Fields carrying the bottle to your room, which proves A.M.’s earned some right to walk the hall and knew where they kept you. She must have gained access to secure files to know who stays in what room.”

  "Or else she knows I’m the only one here besides you. A fifty-fifty guess.”

  “Maybe, but there could be other rooms for other things. Like where they keep the actuator or the sweep’s broom or teachers’ quarters.”

  “Do they live here?

  “You think I know the answer to that question?”

  “Does A.M.?”

  “What’s it matter?”

  “Curiosity, Skip.”

  “You know what curiosity to did to the cat?”

  “How do you know that one?”

  “There you go again, Amelia.”

  “Well?”

  “A.M. told me how curiosity killed the cat, nine lives and all. The phrase used to provide warning in pre-digital days when outdoor curiosity could get a young person into trouble.”

  “So she is caring.”

  “I guess.”

  “And what’s the A.M. stand for?”

  “Don’t know. Didn’t ask. You can ask her. Being into names and such. Not my bag.”

  “Or rather, not your board.”

  “Exactly. Now you understand.”

  “I think I do, Skip.”

  “Sorry about the bottle comment, Emmy.”

  “No problem.”

  “What’s the bottle for anyway?”

  “Next time. I’m getting tired.”

  “I know. Nightlies have been beast lately.”

  “Yours, too?”

  “Ever since I asked them for exercise privileges and a board.”

  Chapter 16

  “Emmy?”

  “Why are you chatting me?”

  “I’m your friend.”

  “Not anymore Vidalia.”

  “Call me Dalia.”

  “Call you what?”

  “Dalia. I’ve taken the name.”

  “Why?”

  “For the same reason you did, Emmy. You taught me.”

  “I thought . . . never mind what I thought. Why are you chatting me? You want to apologize for my ruin?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Dalia.”

  “Didn’t think you would.”

  “Then what else can you say before I disconnect?”

  “I’m looking for Marco.”

  “Don’t say his name like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you know anything about him.”

  “I don’t. I have so much to learn.”

  “Then why act like you have anything to do with us?”

  “Marco’s ideas, your ideas, are bigger than the both of you. There have to be others. I’ve been looking for him. When I don’t find him, I find something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the lot you described with the tall grass.”

  “He wasn’t there?”

  “No one was there. The automobile you described was burning. The windows were punched in like when a storm hits a tower before one of the maintenance programmers can run the repair. Only no one could put that automobile back together again. Flames escaped the windows like a picture of one of those fairy tale dragons, giving off heat stronger than any radiant. Warmth up and down my arms. The fire lit the night sky, the patrol could have seen me, and an explosion broke the flapping sound of flame as I ran home.”

  “What does that prove?”

  “It proves they’re looking for him. The next night, the tall grass had been cut down. Who else but the patrol would have set the fire and cut the grass?”

  “Dalia, even if it was the patrol, they could have cleared the lot for any number of reasons. Maybe they’re putting up a new tower. After enough citizens grandfathered in brownstones make the trade, the Mod or a Private builds to accommodate the next round of citizens submitting more completely to the rationale. The burning was probably just a coincidence.”

  “You don’t believe in coincidences, Emmy. If you did, you would have disconnected by now. And how does the Mod build new towers? Can’t build an entire tower remotely.”

  “Programmers run machines remotely during construction.”

  “I haven’t seen a machine capable of a project of that size and complexity. One machine, like a car in all caps, spanned both sides of the street while collecting fallen trees limbs and simultaneously repairing broken tower windows after a storm, but even that one wouldn’t be capable of building a tower.”

  “Maybe they enlist transits. I don’t know.”

  “Wouldn’t it put it past them, Emmy.”

  “Did you see enough transits for a project like that?”

  “No, I don’t think there are that many. Maybe the fire scared them off, but I only heard a few coughing in the distance. I thought you said the environment had healed. Why are they coughing?”

  “Prolonged exposure, I guess. Marco and I were fine, but we didn’t eat and sleep out there. I don’t even know how the transits collect food and water. Add in the exposure to the hazard, and their immune systems must weaken eventually, expose them to the bug.”

  “Speculation and rumors?”

  “What else? You’d have to make a life of it to know for sure. The devil you know and all that, I suppose it’s why so few commit to being tracked. If Marco and I were brave enough for that, we’d still be together.”

  “Maybe he has committed.”

  “He’s not a transit.”

  “But they have to be onto him by now. Maybe he left his parents’ place. Maybe he’s become transitory.”

  “We don’t know any of that.”

  “What about the @?”

  “Did you see it? Did you see his sign?”

  “No, but I looked.”

  “And?”

  “I didn’t see it, Emmy. That’s my point.”

  “So what does that prove?”

  “Why are you so slow tonight?”

  “Maybe because I’m tired of being locked up in an institution. You think of that?”

  “They didn’t lock you up. You chose freely.”

  “Excuse me, I chose to be locked up. When you consider the alternative, it’s a distinction without a difference. You heard the dialogue. Tell me your theory on the sign.”

&nb
sp; “Marco loved you. Presumably still does.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “If the patrol weren’t onto him, his sign would be everywhere by now. There’d be a trail leading you to him. I didn’t see a single clue. He doesn’t know you’re in here. Can’t know. You said he swore off tech, that his parents didn’t know who you were and that he would never contact your parents. If not for the patrol, Marco would be looking for you everywhere by now. But I didn’t see the @ once.”

  “That’s a theory.”

  “And?”

  “And you’re probably right.”

  “So the patrol is onto him?”

  “Probably.”

  “Aren’t you concerned?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Then don’t you want me to find him?”

  “Marco can take care of himself.”

  “I thought you just said you were concerned.”

  “I did. I am.”

  “Then why wouldn’t you want me to help?”

  “Look what happened last time you tried to help.”

  “My intentions were different then.”

  “And what exactly were your intentions, Dalia?”

  “To protect you from him.”

  “And now? What are they now?”

  “To give hope. To give you both hope. To make amends.”

  “Or to learn what he has to teach you?”

  “Those ends are not mutually exclusive.”

  “Stay away from him, Dalia.”

  “I haven’t even found him yet.”

  “I said, stay away.”

  “I don’t want to take him from you.”

  “Who said anything about that?”

  “Why wouldn’t you want me to help if not for jealousy?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, like, like.”

  “Aren’t we getting old for that?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Why wouldn’t you want me to help?”

  “Because you can’t, Dalia. You can’t help.”

  “You don’t know that. You can’t prove the non-existence of a thing. I can only try and fail.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Or succeed.”

  “Less likely.”

  “What is the worst that could happen?”

  “I don’t know. I’m too tired to use my imagination. Just stay away from him.”

  “You’d rather he wander around out there without knowing where you are? You’d rather he risk being picked up by the patrol? They could allege he’s committed new crimes against reason since the agreement and then force him into dialogue. You said yourself he’d never submit fully to the rationale. They’d track him and commit him to life as a transit.”

  “Then I’d join him.”

  “By the time you could join him, he’d have the bug.”

  “Then I’d take care of him.”

  “You’d catch it, too.”

  “The bug is not contagious.”

  “Living transit, you’d come down with it eventually.”

  “We all have to die sometime. We aren’t machines, and we aren’t tech. That’s how the Mod gets us to commit to the rationale, by making us fall in love with things that don’t die. They get us wishing we were more like flat screens and minis.”

  “So you’d rather die than let me help?”

  “I’m going to die eventually.”

  “Stop being a nihilist, Emmy.”

  “Living fully is the opposite of being a nihilist. That’s all I want to do when I get out of here and reunite with Marco.”

  “Then why not give yourselves a chance to live fully for longer? Why live transit and cut life short?”

  “We’ll do fine without you.”

  “Not Marco, he’s wandering around out there looking for you, exposing himself to the hazard while you’re in here enjoying radiant when it’s cold and coolant when it’s hot.”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m enjoying it.”

  “Then what would you say, Emmy?”

  “I’d say, do whatever you want. It’s still a free City for those willing to exercise their rights. Just leave me alone.”

  “What rights?”

  “The ones citizens fought to preserve. You’re the upper class student. Look them up.”

  “Why don’t you give me a tutorial?”

  “Why don’t you give me some privacy? There. There’s a right for you. Now let me exercise it. I’ve got some nightlies to do, and I don’t want to think about you looking for Marco while I’m running probability and statistics.”

  “So, you want me to look for him?”

  “If I told you my thoughts, they wouldn’t be private anymore. Just do what you’re going to do. I can’t stop you.”

  “The patrol could.”

  “Vidalia, Dalia, whatever you call yourself now, you’ll have to weigh those risks for yourself. They give me enough probability drills in here for the both of us. I’m not interested in picking up more nightlies pro bono.”

  “I think you already told me your thoughts.”

  “I didn’t tell you anything.”

  Chapter 17

  “Hi, Liz.”

  “Why are you chatting me, Amelia?”

  “Not to apologize.”

  “What, you need a punching bag?”

  “What, taking a class on sporting history?”

  “You’re not the only one, Amelia, who knows things.”

  “What do you know, Liz?”

  “Why do you say my name like that?”

  “Like what, brain cheese? We’re on chat. You can’t hear how I’m saying your name.”

  “I told you last time.”

  “Oh, right. You can read between the lines.”

  “That’s right. I have a talent.”

  “Then what am I thinking now, Liz?”

  “You’re off. You’re angry. You wished you were out there, free from the institution, wandering about with Marco.”

  “How do you know about Marco? How do you know his name?”

  “He’s mentioned in every late night post. The myth’s gone viral. Kids are starting to wonder if he’s real. I figure you wouldn’t be so off if he weren’t. The Mod is going to make an example out of him, you know.”

  “What are you talking about? Who told you that?”

  “No one told me. My talent.”

  “Reading between the lines?”

  “Exactly.”

  "You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I don’t?”

  “No, Liz, you don’t.”

  “Then why aren’t you cutting the chat? Logic says I’ve turned the table on you. You chatted me, off and irritable, and started asking me questions. You’re desperate. You don’t know where to turn. You’re wondering what happened to Marco, and you figure you might as well take it out on me as an easy target. Then you find out I’m not an easy target. I know things. I’m up late night, reading sub posts when you’re off from an overload of nightlies. You’re too weary of tech to see its value. You don’t recognize that people like Marco exist in many forms. Others are trying to build a countermovement, using the tech against the Mod. Like it or not, Marco’s gone viral.”

  “Why are you telling me this? You’re the straightest lace on the shoe. Are you trying to entrap me?”

  “I’ve got nothing against you, Amelia. We practically grew up together. So what if it was virtually and through home school simulations? Your insecurities make light of our friendship, but tech can produce real relationships. Don’t you remember that? Don’t you remember when