However, the eventuality of their fate was a teeter-totter, for each good thing they had to be thankful for, was outweighed by staggering realities. Tipping the odds in favor of Jewel City would likely require more than a lone savior. Outside, the town and the great wall itself was still being devoured by innumerable drones, and it was only a matter of time before the machines annihilated the facility’s final barrier doors—or drilled through or dissolved, or even burrowed under, the protective walls.
Thus far the lenders lay asleep, yet to be disturbed by the chaos ensuing outside. Logged in, they had their own work to tend to—in the world of dreams.
And for the citizens inside the safe room, the light flickered as they waited apprehensively. The people of the town were silent, hiding tears, listening, shrieking with each occasional thunderous thump. Some were hopeful because the door did seem impenetrable, but how long could anything last against an incessant barrage like that. Packed into the safe room they were helpless and had no choice but to stand it out while crammed suffocatingly back to back. Some held each other. Strong men took turns putting lightweight teens or women on their shoulders to make an empty space. A small clearing provided some comfort and cooperatively the entire bunch rotated, taking turns in its spacial relief.
54. Believe
Jim lazily puffed his smoke. She’d found a pack in the pocket of a drooling passed-out DC. Amy knew now that she could change the dream world, anyway she wanted. She believed a cigarette would be in the front pocket of the snoring policeman, and it was. She wanted to push it now, and hopefully push the system into the mysterious purple status she was so curious about. Although they had done something spectacular, causing hundreds if not thousands of DC’s to cease instantly, likely providing a huge boost to the system, she couldn’t shake the feeling. Nothing had changed, and moreover, something special awaited them. She sensed that the system actually wanted her to go all out, and break down walls.
“Whenever you're ready Jim,” Amy said.
He took the last puff, then watched the cigarette fly after he flicked it away. He thought, what am I doing? It’s not really there. I’m not actually smoking a cigarette.
Amy honed in on him. She saw things so very differently now compared to when she’d first arrived to the program. She’d matured, blossomed. She knew what Jim was thinking, and that he was coming around, beginning to see the larger picture. “You’ve been doing it so long, but without drive for more. When you're truly alive, you have desire, and passion. You’re ambitious, and most of all, curious about everything. You’ve changed Jim, for the better. You're waking up.”
“Amy,” Jim said smiling up at her from his seated position on a fat man’s enormous belly, “how did you become so smart all the sudden?”
“I’m not smarter than you, or anyone here. Just lucky, perhaps. I told you I had some very special dreams recently. I remembered my dad, and very clearly, even though I was very young when we were separated. I saw as he hid me from the cleansing. Now I fully understand the contrast. Arriving here I watched as everyone trudged around through life. As I grew up I always wondered what was wrong with me, why no one cared to see my drawings. Everyone was happy doing nothing new, content for so little of what really matters. Nobody cared to learn and explore. Curiosity was gone and I had an overflowing supply of it.”
Jim fully grasped her words. And he had his own memories. Before: people obsessed with hand-held gadgets, technology—going along for the ride; no longer did they have to create it, or anything. Yes, he knew. “You saved us,” he said, “but we might not have a chance to use the gift you gave. The machines outside—I saw them first hand, how many there are—we can only hope.”
“I think we can do more Jim. I’ve been thinking, a lot, about the purple status bar in the broadcast room. I think the purple status is, a beacon—and we can activate it.”
“A beacon? Jim said. “Why? And—”
Amy interrupted him, some things never change. “We lost something, but we’re getting it back, together. I think if there’s anyone left out there, and if we are worthy of saving, they will hear our call. But we must do it—together. All of us as one.”
“Well, there’s nothing lose,” Jim said.
“And everything to gain Jim,” she replied. Jim nodded. He had overflowing respect for her. She had been through so much and continued to care for everyone she met. He hoped she would, could, infect the rest of humanity with her virtue. He knew he was no longer the teacher, and in that moment—realized he never was.
“Let’s do it then. What’s the plan?” Jim asked. Amy looked around then back at him.
“We have to do it together. Come, join me.” Jim got up and stepped wobbly over a few snoring volleyball players. Amy held out her hand and he took it. Together they stepped over the bodies and walked away from the tightly packed crowd holding hands. “Now, we need help, and lots of it. We need to break down these walls and travel through to the other dream maps.”
“We can’t do that,” Jim replied, “the dream stability software won’t allow it, and we’ve never been able to change the programming.”
“Jim, first thing. Never, ever, say can’t again. Second, your mind is more powerful than any software could ever be. You must believe it.” Amy grabbed him by the shoulders and looked deep into his turquoise and now more natural looking eyes. She leaned forward and kissed him then said slowly, “I love you Jim.” It wasn’t a lie but she knew he needed to be touched by deep and powerful emotions. That would give him the strength and will to believe.
Jim had always liked Amy and noticed how his perspective of them as a couple had changed. He never let himself go to that level before, much because of his age and he didn’t want to hurt her, but she did momentarily take the legs out from under him. Perspective is everything, and he was amazed at how much he’d changed over the past months.
He floated off the ground a few inches! Noticing, but keeping the good emotions inside like a flame in his heart, and feelings of love, he laughed. Amy noticed and fell back herself. Before landing on a sleeping couple she hovered above the ground as if sitting back in an invisible floating recliner. Together they laughed and enjoyed the newfound freedom they discovered. Amid the laughter Jim got an idea. The image of a man he had recently met appeared in his mind. He knew who could help.
Through a cool ocean breeze they floated over the rest of the people to the chairs where Amy experienced her very first login. The people were beginning to wake and besides, they had gotten sick of the snoring and fart noises—although, the fat man’s belly was a comfortable seat.
“I know who can help us,” Jim said.
“Who?”
“His name is Felix. He’s Rico’s father and he lives here, in the system. It’s a special map called Old Town.” Jim sparked Amy’s imagination and her curiosity was about to erupt like a volcano.
“Interesting. We have to go,” she replied excitedly. “And you will be the one to get us there.”
“Okay, but how?”
“Come on over here,” Amy said walking back to the padded beach chairs were it all started. “Lie down and relax.” Both got comfortable and turned to face each other. Sunlight glimmered specs of beach sand on their faces through the slatted shade of the palm. She continued her instructions, and even though she didn’t know if it would work, had to believe it would. She’d accomplished countless wonders during her natural dreams and knew what to do. She put the idea in her head and didn’t look back. “Now, describe the world so I can assist. Tell me every detail you remember when you first arrived to that map, and believe we are already there while you describe it. Remember, for this to work you must truly believe. Don’t fear as things begin to change—it might get a little weird, just relax and keep a clear mind. Let it flow. Stay focused on the new world as if you are already there.”
Jim trusted her, especially after what they’d pulled off earlier. It was time to embrace his transformation. His creative IQ spiked, off
the charts, his imagination was more powerful than ever, and he sensed within himself a feeling of readiness. He knew he could do it and let the idea ferment in his mind. He did truly believe in himself. Ready. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath…
“It’s dry out, almost hot. We’re sitting in old wooden rocking chairs in front of the saloon. They make creaking sounds as we rock back and forth. A thirty-gallon barrel is between us, on it a couple of sweaty green beers. There’s only a few people inside behind us—I can hear them talking at the bar. It’s shady, the sun is behind us but shining its bright rays on the stores across the street. The warm breeze is gentle—it feels, ah, nice. A gust just swept a tumbleweed to your left and it’s blowing down the pale tan street toward the mercado. Children are running behind it chasing each other, fine dust plumes stir with each pat of their bare feet. A dirt devil spins in the distance, far away from us. It’s nice here, peaceful—I like the vast openness of the desert.”
Surprising himself, Jim continued describing the world, even after things began to feel, weird. The beach scene became unstable and rippled slightly. More with each word, the world around them warped, now bigger wavelike ripples. He sensed the flutter. The noise from the waves and the waking tourists sounded hollow, toneless, flat. A moment, then everyone vanished: the waves, birds, wind, all gone. Silence. But the hollow empty feeling continued, eerily—the silence itself continued its pressure on his eardrums. The beach scene disintegrated into nothing part by part. A touch. I felt something. A bit of alarm. A hint of panic. Jim felt himself being pushed. A part of his thoughts asked out loud, is someone there? It was spooky but he remembered what Amy told him—don’t fear. So he caught himself. He continued to focus on the world he wanted to arrive at, still talking, but not at the same time. I’m there, I’m there. He tried to imagine himself sitting there. The thought of a ghost; it entered his mind. Unwelcome. The haunting feeling came over him and he couldn't help it, it was, frightening. He felt himself being pushed. The entity rolled him onto his side but he kept his eyes closed, more tightly so. The toneless silence was loud to him, impossibly, ironically. He wasn’t anywhere but felt a presence in the void. The ghost. It was right next to him, and he did have fear. It pushed on him again and he began to roll, then spin. Out of control, a tunnel, there was no catching these emotions, it was too late now. He was downright terrified. Spinning through the narrowing tunnel, faster, and faster. Some light flickered by adding to the sensation of speed. Petrified, frozen, but in his belief he never faltered: he knew exactly where he was going—but the journey scared the shit out of him. Then…
He arrived—stopped—finally. There’s light. I’m sitting! A world emerged creating itself in front of his eyes. Sounds came quickly. Normalcy brought comfort. Stabilization reinforced it. Noise, people, a ground, a sky, and the sensation of pressure on his skin; once again it was all there. Jim let out a hard sigh. He had arrived: Old Town.
Amy wasn’t there yet. Two beers were aside him on the wooden barrel he envisioned. Did I make the beer appear also? Jim thought. There’s so much to learn about this world. Infinite possibilities inflamed his curiosity—don’t mind if I do, after that—and dizzied him as the same time. He reached for one of the beers and noticed quickly as his fingers touched the bottle, it was ice cold. Good. Then Amy appeared next to him. She didn’t fade in like a normal log in. The opposite, she appeared suddenly and sharply. She shook it off and as always, it didn’t take her long to start talking.
“Wow. That was incredible. What a ride,” she said. Jim made a flat smile. Apparently she enjoyed it. He didn’t, not at all. In fact he dreaded ever doing it again, but he didn’t tell her. He just nodded and guzzled the other half of his skunky beer. Amy joined him in a drink, looking around. Over the tip of his beer he noticed Felix’s old pickup, Esperanza, parked by the mercado.
“Sir. We lost all map stability on Jim and Amy,” Devon exclaimed still managing both his and Ron’s station. “They're gone—completely gone.” Ted hustled over. He noticed as well; their slice of the HAT went dim and pulsed with a cloudy fluorescent purple haze. “That’s odd. For a moment their mental stability fluctuated wildly but now it’s back at 100%. Dream-state stability—zero, offline. It just doesn’t make any sense,” Devon continued. Ted, leaning in, was also at a loss. The stats were conflicting and the system should have logged them out, but it didn’t. Just the opposite, it continued to operate regardless of the conflicting data. Together they looked back toward the beds. Amy and Jim lay peacefully, logged in among the rest of the lenders.
Ted looked around thinking then said, “She’s up to something. The both of them are. Keep an eye on it Devon, and let me know if anything changes. I think we should expect something—something special soon.”
The status band in the center of the room pulsed. The intense green bathed the lenders in its animated glow. Still under the purple status band, but it throbbed, like it had a mind of its own—wanting something.
The pounding at the door intensified, even through the stockpiled barrier it was noticeably louder. It carried a terrifying rhythm; they all noticed the change. Grinding, powerful now like tectonic plates, they could feel it through their shoes. Young Doc and Bertha pondered, conversing amongst themselves near the door. They decided to further reinforce the door, but to also be prepared just in case. They went back to the supply rooms looking for anything else they could use, not only for the door, but for a weapon.
55. Tacos and Tequila
It didn’t take long to find Felix at the mercado. He sat at one of the larger taco stands under a patchy cloth canopy. Three others were in his company: a pretty middle-aged Spanish Señorita wearing a long black dress with a white top, a black man, and a gringo. Felix caught a glimpse of Amy through the crowd; like an eagle he spotted her, and somehow, he knew. Jim tugged her and they headed over.
Oddly, Felix didn’t look happy to see them, rather he looked disappointed. Jim noticed the mood between the others at the table as well. When he’d first glanced upon them they were eating, smiling, even laughing—having a good time; another sunny day for Felix in the Old Town map to which their arrival seemed to shadow.
“Señor Jim, I see you brought her along. Hello Amy,” Felix said looking at her curiously; standing up he extended a hand. The others at the table acknowledged her, as if she was, royalty perhaps. A special circumstance? Jim thought it strange that Felix knew her. His curiosity twitched, but Amy quickly interrupted his thoughts with her lively personality.
“Hi everyone,” she said with a smile and a wave. Her upbeat demeanor seemed to elevate the mood at the table. “How may I ask did you know my name sir?”
“Amy, this is Felix. He—lives in this map,” Jim said.
“Lives, in the map?” Amy giggled, then followed up with a dose of serious curiosity.
“May I Señor?” Felix said noticing Jim’s apprehension. Jim nodded. “Mucho gusto Amy. Tambien I introduce my wife Rosita—” Felix stood behind each of the others at the table as he politely introduced them. “—and this is Greg—” The gringo stood up acknowledging with a how-do-ya-do smile. “—and this is Eddie.” Eddie did the same rising from his seat nodding politely.
“Nice to meet everyone,” Amy said. And with her usual impatience she got straight to the point ignoring the weird details to save time. “We’re here to break down the walls, get everyone into the same map, and try to—”
“That’ won’t be necessary,” Greg interrupted. She was taken aback, her quick and sure words clipped. Jim noticed by the look on their faces, something wasn’t right, like he and Amy were bad news. Their arrival ruined the meal, the day? Looking somber, Felix put his head down.
“What’s going on?” Jim asked. “How do you know what we should be doing? And how do you know Amy?” Felix pushed his unfinished plate of tacos aside and lifted his head.
“Greg, it’s time,” Felix said turning to him. Greg nodded.
“Have a seat please Amy, Jim,” Greg
stated with an educated and crisp voice. “Would you like anything to eat?” More weird details, Greg obviously didn’t fit in. The town was old school Mexico, a little pueblo in the middle of nowhere, the wild west even, and he looked like he just finished a shift in the—actually he looked like Ron—sort of, but taller. Jim could picture him working in a broadcast room, or a control room, somewhere. He had a thin build and an equally thin face, and the whitest skin for miles probably, with thick wavy brown hair and an unbuttoned, loosened just-got-off-from-work collar. His hair was clean around the edges, a little messy, but in a stylish way.
“We don’t have time, things outside are bad. The town’s under attack,” Amy said sternly.
“Siempre lo mismo,” Felix mumbled shaking his head slightly.
“Time is a little different here Amy. We arrived from higher level map,” Eddie interjected looking up at her. She stood, still neglecting to sit, right next to him. He sat directly across from Greg and straddled the bench to face her. “It’s because we are here now. Time has merged, to meet us in the middle I guess you can say. It’s all relative, works together. So, we do have plenty of time, please, trust us. Order something if you would. Greg has a lot to tell you—I suggest a drink, something with extra tequila.” Welcoming her to sit, he gestured by patting the empty seat aside him. Eddie looked like Greg’s counterpart, as black as Greg was white, and just as out of place. He wore the exact same clothes, and just the same, he looked as if he’d just finished a shift, all day behind screens. He was shorter than the taller and lanky Greg, but no more brawny, just less lanky. His sleeves were rolled up, probably to beat the heat.
Lenders Page 45
