by C. A. Gray
“You didn’t think about it at all, did you.” It wasn’t even a question.
“No, I did! I went to London with my friends, and we were talking about it. I mean I was asking their opinions, and—”
“Ah, right. Over drinks at the pub?”
“No!” I protested, and then amended, “Well… yes, but it wasn’t like that…” I sighed, realizing I was making it worse. “I’m sorry, Liam. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
His face was expressionless, which stung even more than the disappointment had. He shrugged. “You don’t have to make it up to me. It’s not like you’re under any obligation to work on weekends. I just thought you understood the magnitude of what we’re up against, and that might weigh more heavily with you than going out drinking with your friends in London. I’m sorry I was wrong.”
He turned and walked away before I had the chance to reply. I felt about a foot tall. I wished I could explain what I’d really been doing, but I didn’t know anything yet, and… I sighed.
I would make it up to him. I’d come up with an outstanding experiment by the end of the day, and he’d forget that I’d disappointed him.
I skipped the coffee break—I definitely didn’t feel like socializing, especially with Liam. I also wanted him to see how diligent I was. Liam skipped it too, but he stayed in his little cubby in the back of the lab and never spoke to me either. Larissa and Nilesh went back there to chat with him a few times in low voices; otherwise the only signs of life were the occasional rustling papers, and a cough or two.
My brainstorming and research for Liam’s experiment wasn’t my best work, despite all this. I was still too distracted with what I really cared about: where to start looking for Loomis? He was last seen in the Capital, but what were the chances he was still there now? Seemed like that would be the most dangerous place he could possibly be, if his friends really were murdered. But if he wasn’t there now, where would he have gone?
Dad would have known, I thought. But if Dad were around for me to ask, I wouldn’t need Loomis in the first place.
Or maybe I could go about it differently, and get a message to Loomis, I thought, try to convince him to come to me. Maybe I could find some way to contact him by going through Dad’s old things? Would any of his contact information still be relevant? Surely not…
It was almost the end of the work day when Liam passed by my desk. I thought he was on the way out and didn’t even expect him to look in my direction as further punishment for my earlier disappointment. But instead he pulled up a chair from the empty work bench beside mine, and sat down next to me with a heavy sigh.
I looked up at him and waited. I didn’t beg for forgiveness again, since clearly that had gotten me nowhere.
“Nobody’s interested,” he said at last, like a confession.
I shook my head. “Who’s not interested in what?”
He bit his lip, running a hand through his unkempt brown hair. It was only now that I realized that it was more unkempt than usual. “Over the weekend, while you were in London, I crossed the Atlantic. I went to three rural towns in the Americas, chosen because they were the ones hit the hardest in terms of job loss when the bots first took over. They’re living on the Common Wage now, and you know what that means. They’re surviving on the genetically modified chemically-laden frankenfood rations the government distributes, and are therefore riddled with chronic disease, which systematized robotic healthcare treats by pumping them full of symptom-suppressing drugs. They’re sick, depressed, and anxious—some just because of all the crap they’re putting in their bodies, but a lot of them just because they don’t have a reason to get up in the morning. Abraham Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, right? We all need a purpose to live for, and these people have none—and no hope for anything to get better, either. Given all that, I figured they’d hate the bots more than anybody. I thought it would be easy to motivate them to fight with us—grass roots style, of course, since the labyrinth approach is evidently out.” He shook his head and looked away, haunted. “But I could hardly even get them angry. I guess I should have guessed it: in order to be willing to fight, you have to have hope. And they don’t. They all at least believe Halpert’s challenge will lead to even more lost jobs, if not a major existential crisis—but they don’t think they could do anything about it, even if they tried. They said they have a vote in name only. Their representatives only care about Big Business. It’s all about the dollars.” He rubbed his thumb and forefingers together to emphasize his last point, looking forlorn. “This old former shopkeeper told me that the labyrinth will never report it, but based on what they’ve seen in their community, they’re convinced the suicide rate is at least four times higher than it was before the bot takeover.” He sighed. “I’m more convinced than ever that those against are in greater numbers than those who are for Halpert’s challenge, but they won’t even bother to send a comm to their senators, let alone anything else.”
I’d never seen Liam look so defeated before. Cheerful, irrepressible Liam, who always seemed to bounce back. I bit my lip, not sure what to say to this.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he said at last. “I was just upset that this weekend was such a flop, and then when I came back on the Quantum Track on Sunday night, I told myself, ‘At least Rebecca’s working on a new strategy to protect us, in case we can’t stop Halpert. We’ll have a new idea soon.’ And then when you came in looking all hung over and like you couldn’t care less, I just… lost it.”
“I do care!” I insisted, indignant, “and I wasn’t hung over, I only had one drink! I’ve never even been drunk in my life.”
His eyes twinkled, but just a little. “Why am I not surprised.”
“If you must know, I fell asleep doing research last night because I found out my father might have been murdered!”
Now I had his full attention. “What?”
I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but it was out now. I thought about choosing my words carefully and telling him only bits and pieces, but what was the point? I knew he’d probe me until I told him the whole thing anyway. So I did: all about the oddly fatal strain of Treblar’s Disease and Randall Loomis, who according to my mom was one of his good friends, and according to Odessa, simply vanished. “I’ve been obsessed with finding him,” I confessed, “hoping he can either confirm or deny what really happened to my dad and all those men he knew. But I don’t even know where to start.”
After a long pause, Liam murmured, “I think I might.”
Chapter 11
Julie invited me to the pub that night, but I turned her down. I needed advice, and much as I loved Julie, I knew she wasn’t exactly a fount of wisdom. The person I wished I could to talk to was Mom—she always knew what to do. But she was too biased in this case; as it was, I dreaded the conversation we’d have to have before the evening was over.
“Good evening!” chirped Madeline when I entered my flat. “Oh! Why the long face?”
I sank to the floor beside my bed so that I was at eye level with Madeline. “Liam thinks I can find out more information about Randall Loomis in the Capital.”
“San Jose?”
I nodded. “And he wanted to go there anyway. He’s discouraged that we’re cut off from the research community with the new labyrinth censorship. Without collaboration, it’ll be virtually impossible for us to come up with anything fast enough to stop Halpert, when he’s got the combined intelligence of the whole world on his side, while we’ve now only got ourselves. Liam says we have to find a way to band together again, and give those who are technical enough to participate in the research a way to share information, while those who aren’t can at least learn what’s happening and start a grass roots movement to stop him.”
“Okay…” Madeline reeled her stick-like metal hand, prompting me to get to the point. A flicker of a smile crossed my face—she’d learned that from me, I knew.
“He wants me to go with him
.”
“To the Capital?” She paused. “But… don’t you have class? And exams? And rehearsal?”
“I know,” I sighed. “But… what if I really can find out about Loomis there? What if that’s where he is? Liam says he has lots of connections there—people who might know where he is, if anybody does.”
“When is he leaving?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh,” Madeline said significantly. She wheeled around so that her back pressed against the edge of the bed too, mirroring my own position. “What are you gonna do?”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair, which was kinked in the back where it had been in a ponytail all day. “I have to go, don’t I? If Dad was actually—”
“Don’t say it!” Madeline interrupted, stopping me from saying murdered.
“Well, if he was, then not only is this big—much bigger than school—but…” I groped for words. “But I can’t just let it go now. Not when I’ve come this far. If someone murdered my father, I need to know who, and why, and find a way to make them pay!”
“But… don’t you think that might be dangerous?” Madeline asked in a small voice.
“No. Not yet, anyway,” I said. “All I’d be doing at this stage is gathering information. Not like I’d be out rattling cages and trying to brew a revolution, like Dad was.”
“And like Liam will be?” Madeline asked pointedly.
I opened my mouth and closed it again. “Well, he doesn’t plan on doing any preaching on street corners, to my knowledge. He already tried that. He said it didn’t work.”
“Oh, Rebecca.” Madeline wheeled in front of me and then back and forth, a perfect imitation of a human pacing.
“I might not even have to be gone that long,” I went on, ignoring her fretting. “A couple days to a week maybe? That should be enough to find out if anybody in Liam’s circle knows anything about what happened to Dad. If they don’t, I come back to school and take some make-up exams. Professor Kirby and Professor Helroy both love me, I’m sure they’ll be fine with it. And I can memorize my lines while I’m there, so I can jump right back into rehearsals…”
“What if you do find something out, though?”
I pressed my lips together, one arm wrapped around my bent knees. “Then… I guess I’ll have to drop out of school this semester, and follow the trail wherever it leads.”
We were both silent for a long time. “Sounds like you’ve made up your mind,” Madeline said at last.
“You don’t think it’s a good decision?” I pressed, biting my lip. I hated doing something so potentially massive without outside input—usually I lived my life by consensus of what everyone else thought I should do. Not that Madeline ever disagreed with my decisions. She was endlessly supportive.
“I just want you to stay safe, and graduate, and marry Andy, and live a long, happy life!”
I felt warm inside when she said this—how could anyone not love Madeline?
“I want that too, of course, but…” I shook my head. “But what if Liam’s right? What if Dad was right?”
After a pause, Madeline ventured, “Your dad and Liam would have liked each other, wouldn’t they?”
“Maybe at first,” I shrugged. “But they were both so stubborn, they’d probably have butted heads once they disagreed on how something should be done. Each of them would insist that their way was the only way, and neither one of them would ever apologize…” Then I remembered Liam apologizing to me only earlier that day.
Perhaps I’d misjudged him.
Madeline gave a wistful-sounding sigh. “I wish I’d met your dad.”
It was such a sweet thing to say—I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Dad would have hated her on general principle, and I’d never have been allowed to keep her, had he been alive.
I took another deep breath, reaching into my backpack for my handheld. I stared at it for a minute, trying to decide if I should comm Mom, or call her. A comm would be easier on me: less confrontational. Holographs were almost like being face-to-face, and… well… she wasn’t going to like this.
“Are you going to tell her your real reason for going?” Madeline whispered, knowing my intention without my having to voice it. “That you think your dad was murdered, I mean?”
I shook my head. “No. She wouldn’t understand. She and Dad fought all the time over the conspiracy stuff—she’d hate that I would even entertain the idea that he died because of it.”
“More than she’d hate the idea of you skipping school for an indeterminate period of time to participate in grass-roots politics?”
I felt my heartbeat in my throat. “No, she’ll hate that too,” I conceded. “But… slightly less, maybe? And it’s not a lie—I will be helping Liam with whatever he wants me to, as long as I’m there.”
Finally I decided that even if I did chicken out and comm her, she’d just call me as soon as she got the message anyway. Might as well cut out the extra step. I called.
“Rebecca?” Mom said when she answered, surprised. She was in her pajamas, but she was in a hotel room, yet again. I wondered if she was ever at our house when I wasn’t there. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”
“Mom, I have something to tell you.” I took a deep breath. Better to just get it out. “I’m… not going to be in school for a little while. It might only be a few days,” I added hastily. “Or… it might be longer. I don’t know.”
She stared at me, not comprehending. When the silence became uncomfortable, I blurted, “Liam and I believe there’s a conspiracy to spread only propaganda about the bots, and they’re silencing all dissenting opinions. We can’t work collaboratively with other researchers without the help of the labyrinth, so we’re going to spread the word against Halpert’s challenge the only way we can: in person—before it’s too late.”
Mom stared at me still, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. “You’re dropping out of school?”
“Just for a few days. Maybe a week. Or… maybe longer. It depends on what happens when we get there.” I waited, heart pounding in my throat.
She opened her mouth and closed it again, as if fumbling for words. “And you expect me to believe that this isn't just because you want to travel more than you want to study?”
That was the last thing I’d expected. “What? No! Halpert’s challenge could destroy mankind as we know it!” Liam’s words, not mine, but they came in handy at the moment. “And now that we can’t collaborate with other researchers via the labyrinth—”
“Oh, please, Rebecca,” said Mom, scornfully. “You never cared about any of your research, you were always ready to drop it in a heartbeat if it meant you could do something else you enjoy more. This is just Rebecca satisfying Rebecca’s whims. You’re going to end up on the Common Wage like everyone else! After all that your father and I sacrificed to give you every opportunity—with all your intelligence and potential, you’re just going to throw it away for the sake of instant gratification?”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, though I wasn’t sure if they were of sadness or of indignation.
“That’s so unfair!” I finally managed. Again, I thought of telling her my suspicions: about Dad, and about Loomis, and the unusual strain of Treblar’s… but my instinct told me that would be even worse than letting her think I was just acting out my selfish whims.
Mom didn’t speak for a long moment, and her holographic eyes looked over my shoulder and not directly at me. I had the impression that she was trying not to cry, too. At last, she murmured, “If you affiliate yourself with these absurd conspiracy theories, Rebecca, even if you were to change your mind later and come back, it will be too late. You will blacklist yourself from any possibility of having a meaningful job. If you do this, that’s it. You’ve thrown away everything!”
“No one will have a meaningful job if Halpert gets his way, Mom!” I retorted. “That’s the whole point, but it’s worse than that, even�
��”
Before I could finish, she interjected, “Maybe eventually that might be true, but not for many years to come. You would still have the chance of earning some savings, if you focused on contributing to society! You are condemning yourself to a life of poverty, and I—I’m sorry, I can’t talk to you about this anymore!”
She hung up on me. My mom actually hung up on me.
It wasn’t until Madeline rolled up beside me and placed a tiny metal hand on my forearm that I realized I was trembling, still staring at the space in the room where Mom’s holograph had been. Comfort always did me in: I burst into tears, burying my face in my hands as Madeline stroked my arm.
“She only said all those things because she loves you,” Madeline murmured. “All she can see is the impact this choice might have on your life.”
“She—thinks I’m being an idiot, that it’s all about doing what I want,” I sniffed, wiping my face even though the tears kept coming. “I can’t make her understand without telling her the truth, and that would be even worse!”
“She’s just looking at it through the lens of her own prejudices,” Madeline soothed. “She’ll calm down. She always does.”
I glanced away from Madeline, and my watery gaze landed absently on my netscreen. Andy was available on A.E.
I wanted to be comforted, and I especially wanted to be comforted by Andy. So I got up and tapped on his name, intentionally not wiping my tears from my cheeks. I wanted him to see that I’d been crying.
He answered. “Hi. How’s it going?” No comments about my tear-stained face. This annoyed me, but I decided to give him a second chance.
“Um, not so good.” I might have made my voice tremble a little more than necessary.
