The Assumption Code

by Melodee Elliott

  They ascended above the barrier of cloud now separating her from the diversity of what lay beneath them. Here, only sapphire blue and the other structures remained and the blur of Meno beyond them. To think that an entire industry was dedicated to experiences. People could see them, live them, and not just be mandated to understand. Though many, such as Rivner, might have never grappled with the reality of it. Margi wondered what it would take to do so. How many lifetimes?

  The car landed at the familiar pad at the center where she had been held before. Stavon stood inside, watching, waiting. Ferli emerged, a few paces in front of Margi, who was careful to keep as large a breadth of space as possible between her and the ledge.

  Ferli held the door open for her.

  She entered as Stavon approached to enfold her in his arms. “The day is well,” he said.

  “The day is well,” she replied as she embraced him. His suit jacket was firm under the touch, without give, yet pliable.

  “Let’s walk,” he said.

  She looked for Ferli, who was already back outside with the driver. “I’ll get Ferli,” she said.

  “We’ll see her later.” He led her to an elevator.

  They ascended for what seemed like the entire height of the structure. She wondered why they even bothered to go so low in the first place. Stavon looked straight ahead, not necessarily avoiding her but as if preoccupied. That scared her.

  The elevator stopped, and the door opened. He led her down a wide hallway, through a doorway leading to narrower halls. A gurney was perched to one side. They entered a room. Medical machinery of various sorts was positioned around the space. Two men rose from their seats.

  “Welcome back,” said one with a broad smile.

  “Thank you.” She saw his nametag. “Loz.”

  “We will be doing a follow-up from your return.”

  She felt herself shrink back and stopped, hoping it wasn’t noticeable. At least someone follows up on a procedure, she thought, thinking of the missing Dr. Howard.

  The other man stepped forward. “Lie down, please,” he said, motioning to a padded table. His nametag read Rolo.

  She lay on the table and peered into a string of fiber-optic cable lights that ranged the colors of the rainbow.

  Rolo started up the machine and the lights grew brighter. Stavon and Loz watched the screen suspended in the air in front of them. She glimpsed Stavon flicking his attention to her and then to Loz. The fibers pulsed with each strand sending another wavelength back through. Eventually, the lights died down.

  “That will be all,” Loz said. He turned to Margi. “You’re fine,” he added.

  Rolo closed down the screen. She couldn’t read his face as he busied himself with another machine away from her and the other men.

  Stavon paced to her. “We won’t keep Ferli waiting.” He took her by the hand and eased her from the table.

  He walked her to the elevator and kissed her. The touch felt genuine, lingered a moment like an apology. She entered and turned to him, but he didn’t follow. As the doors closed, she thought she caught him staring at her with a longing she’d never been afforded. She did not yet know this man enough to interpret his motives. She would. She knew that much.

  More important matters were at hand, such as where Ferli was. In that moment the thought struck her to see the ground floor. She examined the console and saw a graphic placed that might indicate the levels. She touched it, and the elevator descended.

  The door opened at last, and she stepped beyond the threshold. The space appeared to be a transport station with people heading to their destinations, some in groups with someone at the lead.

  She strolled along its length and reached a glass wall to discover she was still at a high elevation. The clouds were overhead and the streets far below.

  “There you are,” came the familiar voice of irritation.

  She turned to see Ferli rushing to her.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to visit here,” she replied as matter-of-factly as she could.

  “People are staring.”

  Margi said nothing.

  “You might as well greet the more relevant ones. I have an idea.” Ferli headed down the concourse and ascended the elevator. Margi followed suit. She wondered if her entire stay there involved navigating the floor levels. The up-and-down was getting real old, real quick.

  “You can thank the people for their participation. They make the Great Adventures possible. We need them more than ever now.”

  Margi followed her to a more private area. A long line of people stood there in white jumpsuit uniforms with a black stripe up the sides and sleeves. A suspended sign overhead read Participants. Some were children, which she hadn’t expected. They had no personal effects, but she supposed they would need none going to Meno.

  Ferli fell behind her as they approached those in line. One by one each person was caught by Margi’s presence. Some smiled; others glanced momentarily.

  Margi approached one person who wore a smile. She reached for the woman’s hand and saw a tear well in her eye.

  Margi leaned over. “We’re so glad you are joining us. Be well.”

  The woman’s demeanor eased.

  Margi went down the line, reaching for each of them and resting her hand on backs in affection.

  She distanced herself and addressed the group. “On behalf of DanuVitro, I want to welcome you to Meno. We provide the greatest of adventures and hope that you find yours.”

  People stood with eyes fixed on her. One little girl cried. Margi turned to Ferli, whose mouth was slightly gaped.

  “They’re participants,” Ferli said and looked away. “And I’m the mean one.”

  Margi deflated in body and spirit. She took one step to comfort the child who was at once scooped up by a man. He turned the child’s back to her as he comforted the girl and glared.

  She felt Ferli’s hand grip her arm and pull. She followed her in silence as they left the scene. They retreated into an elevator. Ferli held her finger on a symbol to the side of the others in the console. “Street level.”

  The elevator descended. Margi took this time to collect herself as apparently she was going to make a statement soon. Ferli had opened a tablet and was busying herself with her work, already having moved on from the incident she’d witnessed.

  The elevator stopped. Ferli stepped out and into a large rotunda. Margi followed, not wanting to venture into unknown circumstances yet again. Tall glass windows lined the exterior of the building. They were at true street level. She felt its stability and walked with the confidence of familiarity.

  A crowd had gathered outside. Ferli thrust her tablet in front of Margi. “Your statement. Let me know if you want something changed,” she said with the insistence of one who anticipated failure.

  She took the tablet and began reading. The verbiage began as a typically well-done public relations speech, hitting all the points it should. She had a whole new respect for Ferli who’d apparently written it.

  Some time later, a man motioned them to approach. Ferli tagged behind as he ushered Margi through a doorway. Another man walked along her other side as they navigated the gauntlet of people pressed against the barriers with momentum from those standing behind. The man kept guard at the first step to a stage as Margi continued onto the platform.

  Stavon and several others were waiting. One man stole her senses. Dr. Howard sat between Loz and Stavon. He had an aura of authority that seemed empowered by the three of them together. He did not return her stare. Her thoughts swirled.

  She would be speaking for both men. It was inevitable in her profession that she spoke on behalf of those whom she disliked. Let the public decide their truth was a judicious teaching for a reporter. After all, someone had to report. She was a messenger at heart, not the jury.

  Margi faced the crowd and walked forward. As she did, a podium appeared before her, with the same oil slick swirl of colors coursing through its
shape as the bed in the hospital had. She touched it and found it solid.

  In the distance she saw movement among the crowd. Holographic images appeared above them, with figures of those in the black-striped uniforms. The faces would progressively age as their bodies shrank and disappeared. Thankfully, she was trained as a public speaker to disregard such distractions to her cause.

  She began, “I greet you today for a time has come to rally behind a venture. DanuVitro has been afforded the luxury of servicing clients who have long stood by a philosophy: the knowledge that life does not end with the tenure of a lifetime. Barriers are shattered. There are those among you who know that understanding of another can be lived through another’s eyes, lived with full awareness of who you are. Self-fulfillment is the ultimate experience. You deserve self-fulfillment. You’ve earned it. It’s your time.” Margi felt an energy surging within her.

  “To those who dissent from this venture, know that we at DanuVitro have no quarrel with you. You have one lifetime as is your obligation at birth and will carry it through according to your choices.”

  She paused to read the teleprompter, catching the words again before they disappeared. “Our participants select themselves for their endeavors. Their families pay the price for an idea beyond their reach and inherit the knowledge that their loved ones exist on Meno, contributing to a culture of exchange. An exchange of ideas and values. We thank the families of our participants as their loved ones have raised the station of many lives here on Danu. Thank you.”

  The teleprompter began again, instructing her to introduce Holan. She took her seat next to Stavon while Dr. Howard, as she knew him, stood and approached the podium. He spoke of the experiences of clients returning from Meno and into cloned bodies. They were now able to enhance those bodies for a more aesthetic appearance or handling dysfunction. He had the same professional air as Dr. Howard had on Earth, even the same relaxed gate of speech. This was Dr. Howard. Part of her wanted to demand he tell her what had happened. The rest of her wanted to stay quiet, find a way to rid herself of the nanobots, and all would return to normal. Someone else, someone braver, could investigate for humanity. This situation was not a dream.

  As he talked, she tried to make sense of the scene before her. She had spoken for the participants, and Dr. Howard was speaking for clients. The crowd obviously had qualms about the participants and their contributions. They all had chosen a life on Meno that spanned mere days on Danu. Yet a participant would have chosen life on Meno as well—a personal choice; no one else’s.

  She spied guards along the perimeter of the crowd. Thankfully, all was otherwise peaceful. DanuVitro was obviously in need of better public relations. She could use her talents to gain intel for the exposé while helping Stavon.

  Holan returned to his seat.

  Stavon motioned her to take the podium again. She did so and concluded the event. As Stavon and his panel rose, the holograms grew larger at the back of the crowd. The intricacies of such a wonder struck her. Then she noticed a man standing atop a perch, holding a device that cast images growing taller than the others like the structures. They came into focus as edifices with nameplates like those at mausoleums and people’s faces lined their facades.

  Stavon’s hand sat upon her waist and urged her from the stage. Her attention shifted from the scene. They walked the gauntlet back to the safety of the structure where they were met by Ferli.

  “I want the place cleared,” Stavon said to Ferli before kissing Margi on the lips. He then walked away with Holan.

  Ferli grimaced and tapped the communicator in her hand. “Whoever is in charge of the event, clear it now.”

  A voice responded in resistance.

  “Ferli speaking. Stavon’s orders.”

  The voice confirmed the order.

  Ferli turned her attention to Margi. “You have the rest of the day off. You know how to reach me.”

  Margi nodded but hoped she would have no need.

  Ferli walked briskly to the elevator while speaking into her communicator. The cadence of her stride was reminiscent of the catwalk. No doubt a driver would be smiling in a short time. Just as well—Margi needed time to make sense of the happenings.

  She retreated from the street level and rose to the ground floor. So odd to have the ground floor so high off the actual ground. There, people finding her alone took the opportunity for photos. Holograms, of course. Otherwise, the vibrancy of the agora was not so different from Earth in many ways. She liked this level with its bustle of people on their way to somewhere.

  She strolled along until noticing the greenery on a large deck beyond the structure. She stepped onto the walkway that led through what was a garden. A gentle breeze swept from beneath the edge of oblivion and where a butterfly-looking insect had found its way there. A walkway narrowed down to a path and navigated among the tall shrubbery into what was a labyrinth. The sky above was the sapphire blue with a sister moon peeking over one side. Clouds scattered overhead, reminding her of home near Central Park when she would lie down and squint out the buildings. She saw only what she wanted. She felt safe there in the labyrinth and in contrast realized she’d felt the presence of another. Of course, she was known by all as Stavon’s wife, Rivner, and so would be watched.

  She emerged onto a circular space with a fountain at its center. A real fountain with real fish. She sat on a bench, peering into the pond’s depth as clouds overhead cast their shadows, concealing the creatures from her gaze. Sparkles danced upon the water’s surface.

  She took hold of her communicator and tossed it into the pool. The ripples disrupted the patterns, clearing her thoughts.

  “A simple pleasure,” came a voice from the labyrinth.

  Margi whirled around in her seat to see a man standing at the shrubbery’s edge. He had a relaxed way about him, yet was attentive. Their eyes met, his slightly mocking.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “I’m Tolman. May I sit with you?”

  Margi was disarmed by his calmness. She nodded.

  He came to her and took a seat by her at a respectful distance but close enough that she felt his nearness. He didn’t take his eyes off of her, lingering in a way that was reflective, knowing.

  “You know who I am,” she said.

  “Of course.”

  She felt as if he might truly know, which caught her attention. “Did you want to speak with me?”

  “If I may,” he responded and paused as if waiting until she gave some sign that she wanted him to speak, to truly listen to what he would convey.

  Then she realized that this was the man who’d been standing above the rest of the crowd, with the hologram sign. Her body stiffened. “What do you want?”

  He smiled. “I want nothing. However, the people want everything. The same as you.”

  She was at once perturbed at the cryptic nature of such wording. “And they don’t have it?”

  “They don’t.”

  Margi knew to keep on script. He could be wired. “Everyone can have self-awareness and know another through living as another,” she corrected him.

  “It’s never actually the other person he assumes, though he might wish otherwise.” He gazed into her eyes as if to reach through Rivner and onto Earth where Margi slept. Yet she was here, and he’d reached her.

  As unnerving as it was, she took in the moment.

  His brown eyes captivated her, as if all the answers she sought could be revealed there.

  “I saw you in the crowd,” she said flatly.

  “Yes.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “I am a light bender. An artist. I go everywhere.”

  “Like the sea creatures by the café,” she delighted.

  He inhaled defeated. “Yes, that one is mine, though not intended for DanuVitro. Stavon always gets what he sets out to acquire.”

  Margi felt the truth of it and inhaled her own defeat.

  “What do you want from me?” she asked as the gam
e of dialogue grew tiresome.

  “What do you want of the people?”

  “I want nothing from the people,” she said in irritation.

  “Then what do you want for them?”

  Margi searched through the repertoire of words she knew to say. Self-awareness would not suffice as she’d already verbalized the message. Something more was needed. The silence spoke louder than she would have liked.

  “I see,” he said. “Have you been to the streets?”

  Margi recalled seeing the scenes below while in the hover car as she traveled to Stavon’s penthouse. She had only spent enough time at street level to give her speech there.

  “No.” It was an honest answer, unfiltered. She hoped that it did not betray the persona of a worldly Rivner.

  “Would you like to?” He gave a welcoming smile.

  “Yes,” she found herself saying. She lied to herself, hoping that her story could center on this Tolman, though she didn’t know why. He would be an inferior story—only a personal infatuation with no public worth. She had more important realities to bring to light than personal fancy. She felt the lie and was disoriented. She reminded herself that the story was her opportunity in being there, her participation like the others of DanuVitro. Yet in the newness of it all, it fell flat against the interest she now had in the man before her.

  His genuineness struck her as an artist’s rendering of reality, an innocence of not quite grasping the spoils one must take to achieve one’s purpose. She was comforted by his naivety. He could be trusted.

  He reached for her hand to lift her from her seat. She stood waiting for his lead. His gaze lingered once again, for what she didn’t know. His attention snapped away and he stepped into the labyrinth with her close behind. The clouds washed overhead, blanketing their shadows as the two of them walked in peaceful silence. The moment was more real than any she could ever remember having. No bustle of traffic. Only she and another person in the whole world existed at this moment, without time nipping away the day.

  Stavon sat in his hovering vehicle, watching below as Margi disappeared into the shrubbery. He spoke into his communicator. “She’s in the labyrinth. Follow her.”