by Darrell Bain
“I saw a place like that right after I got dumped here, but I didn't go in. At the time, I was more interested in getting clean and well fed. Like everyone else, I suppose."
“Sure. But it will soon become common knowledge what's to be found there."
“It will have to be investigated,” Lyda decided. “But let's be careful. I'll bet there's traps there for the unwary."
Tepa examined her for a long moment, still thoughtful. “You assume agreement, as if leadership comes naturally to you."
“I sort of grew into the role,” Lyda said quietly. “It wasn't easy."
“No, I suspect it wasn't. There's an aura about you that I can sense. It's powerful. You must have gone through the crucible more than once."
“You have an aura, too,” Lyda told him. “Not like a color, but ... a self-image that emanates from you. That's something new this time."
“Yes, like the improvements in physical strength and mental acuity many of us have noticed in ourselves. Some have gained more than others, though. Such as yourself."
“I've noticed that."
“Well, I'm content to follow your lead, even as young as you are. I'm more of an assistant than leader—but I'm very good in that role."
Lyda gave him her warmest smile. “Good assistants are as important as good leaders, if not more so. I've learned that, too."
“Fine. Shall we begin our investigations?"
“Why don't we see if we can gather some more people first, so we'll have as much comparison as possible? Some of us may react differently than you did."
“True. But if I may suggest, you should at least know a little about the ... pleasure rooms, I guess we can call them, before introducing others to them."
“You're right. Would you mind staying with me?"
“Not at all."
“Let's go then."
* * * *
Lyda sat down in one of the chairs in the first pleasure room they came to. It immediately adjusted to the contours of her body. As soon as she was comfortable and began gazing at the screen, it assumed depth and startling clarity. Suggestible images began flashing in her mind, hanging just long enough for her to decide to pass on. Rather than concentrating on a particular one as Tepa said he had done, Lyda tried to make up a pleasing adventure in her mind. She couldn't stand to think about romance yet, so she imagined herself enjoying a good adventure movie. Immediately, she was transported into the role of the female protagonist in a vacation trip across America such as Mom and Dad had been planning. She enjoyed it hugely. The images were as clear as reality and just as moving. She felt her soul stirring at beautiful landscapes, admiring the accomplishments of great men, anguishing over the sense of death and suffering hanging over great battlefields and on and on. She had to force herself to bring it to a halt.
Lyda blinked and looked away from the screen. Tepa was sitting on the floor watching her.
“Well over an hour, near as I can judge,” he said. “And the whole time, a green haze obscured you, the screen and the chair you're sitting on. I couldn't tell what kind of reaction you were having."
Lyda sighed at the return to reality. She had enjoyed the venture so much and had related to the supporting personalities as if they had been her own loving parents. She suspected right then that if she returned to the screen and brought up a vision of Mom and Dad, she would be instantly transported into their simulated presence—and feel every bit of the emotion such a reunion would bring. She shook her head vigorously to get rid of the idea.
“Tepa, I see the danger of this place already. It's a dream palace, an escape mechanism where you can go and feel as if you're living a real life with all the enjoyment and pleasure and none of the pain. It even let me think up my own adventure—and live in it just as if I were there. Can you imagine how enticing and addictive this could become? Reality as you want it, not as it is."
“I see,” Tepa said slowly. “You'll notice I'm sitting on the floor. I was tempted to go another of the preprogrammed pleasure trips while waiting on you. And I'll confess, I didn't consider trying something from my own fantasies. Perhaps you have a more inquiring mind than I."
“That's not it,” Lyda said diplomatically, though she suspected he might be right. She told him the truth. “I've lost one man I loved, and another I think I would have come to love, so recently that I didn't consider a romantic adventure; not even one of those suggested by the screen."
“The ones already there are tempting enough. I don't know whether we should experiment much with our own fantasies. As you say, it is the perfect escape mechanism."
“I think I'll have to try,” Lyda said slowly after a long moment of concentration. “Otherwise, how can I know enough to warn others away from it?"
“Ah, but can you escape entrapment yourself?"
“I'll still risk it. Maybe you could stay and observe and try shaking me or something if it goes on too long. But not now. I want to think about this some more first."
“Excellent. This indeed requires thought."
Lyda was amused at the very precise English Tepa had begun speaking in such a short time and the way it was becoming contaminated by imitating her own east Texas twang. His stilted language mixed with a country accent sounded so funny that she had trouble not laughing. She found herself liking him very much.
* * *
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
As was done before where there was no discernible difference between night and day, Lyda and Tepa decided to call a sleep period a “night” and the time they were awake a “day". The problem, as before, was getting everyone to adapt their biorhythms to the same schedule. It would be a gradual process, Lyda knew, and would take a while to accomplish. In the meantime, she searched for and found what she hoped she would, a big parklike area surrounded on all sides by places to sleep. It would be perfect for a central area to congregate and return to after explorations, for that was on her agenda, too.
Once she and Tepa each picked a place to sleep, they began trying to induce others to join them. Some did; others were perfectly content to go their own way and enjoy the new luxuries. Lyda didn't feel she had any more time to waste. She got Tepa to watch her again while she sat in a chair in one of the pleasure rooms and induced the simulated reality to take over her mind. She deliberately chose to imagine a romance, not with Gavin in particular, but a man with his general attributes. Before allowing herself to sink into the dream, she formed the thought that it would not involve sexual acts. She was smart enough to know her first sexual experience with a lover should be real, not a lifelike fantasy, yet the simulated romance involved the touching of her breasts as Gavin had just before they were separated. It was ecstatic, as were the kisses and hugs and even holding hands.
When Tepa shook her out of it after the hour she had allowed, she was shaken and emotionally drained. The imaginary lover had been real enough to touch and sweeter than the nectar of fruit warmed by a hot summer sun, and his touch had heated her body even more.
“Never again,” she told Tepa. “If we settle down here, we have to try and find some way to convince people to stay away from the damn pleasure rooms. They are worse than any drug ever invented on earth—and I suspect even more addicting than drugs, especially since there doesn't appear to be any physical withdrawal symptoms.” She shivered, thinking of all the ways the rooms could be used—and abused.
“I have to agree. I tried a room once more yesterday when we separated. I wanted to see my wife again. I should have left well enough alone.” His face saddened with the tragedy of an all too vivid reincarnation of his lost love, and the knowledge that in a way, he had reversed time, canceling some of its healing balm.
“I thought you had done something like that, Tepa. Thank you for telling me."
“I should thank you for believing the rooms shouldn't be used. But how can we convince others?"
“I don't believe in coercion. We have to persuade everyone to stay away from them by reasoning. Not only that, we c
an't have any of our people sneaking off to the rooms once they agree to stay out of them; not if we can find a way to keep them away. It would corrupt the rest. Tepa, those rooms are the hidden danger of this place. If we are kept here indefinitely, damn near everyone will succumb to them."
So far, “our people” consisted of Lyda, Tepa and half a dozen other adults. She had yet to see a child. That, if anything, was causing her to lose sleep. Had the visions in the transport been so horrible that no child's mind could stand them? She hoped not, but it didn't look promising. She got Tepa and the others to begin exploring farther and farther from “Central Square", as they called it, like heralds of old, crying warning to all who would listen.
Lyda instructed the explorers to try to induce anyone that showed the least promise to return with them and settle in Central Square with the others. She planned on starting classes again, along with any other activities she could think of to keep people occupied and out of the pleasure rooms.
Surprisingly, there was little quarrel with her leadership, even from the men and women she could tell had progressed in their abilities like she and Tepa had. It was as though when they met, they sensed and accepted her acumen in that department and only made suggestions. As time passed, the assembly grew, as solitary wanderers and newly discovered little groups joined them. Lyda had already discovered that a part of the human heritage was the need for company of its own kind, and the need of a large majority of humans for something to believe in outside themselves; either religion or a great cause or a political system; anything that attracted others to the same fold. That was how Mao had been able to marshal so many followers in so short a time, she thought; he presented them with a cause to believe in.
Lyda had her own beliefs, but they involved what she had come to think of as the encouragement of the attributes found in decent and thoughtful people, and a system of government that cared for the weak and allowed those who could do so room to exercise their abilities and talents. Again, she formed a council of advisors, half a dozen men and women and one boy not much older than herself, but precocious to a degree. He had a mind that exceeded her own in its need to expand and grow. He laughed about being named Leonardo and insisted it was after the American actor, not the Renaissance genius, even though he was from Italy. In any case, he insisted on being called Leo and was more interested in learning about the huge city they were in than anything else. He had an infectious smile and brushed incessantly at his dark, curly hair.
Leo was the only other person besides herself and Tepa that she fully trusted to never go into a pleasure room without permission—but he was so brilliant, that she began to form a plan for him and the pleasure rooms—if he would agree.
Lyda went out to walk around the city herself once every couple “weeks", but never farther than the distance she could travel in half a day. She always returned to the square to sleep. Others had gone far beyond that range but never came to an end of the city, nor found any striking changes from the area they lived in. Occasionally, she did meet individuals or couples who had wandered into their area from somewhere else. Always, she stopped to talk to them and try to get the ones she sensed were compatible to return with her and join her group. She was successful less than half the time. Some of them were already addicted to the pleasure rooms and wanted nothing to do with a government that discouraged their use. Others were deranged from the horrors of the transport and not susceptible to reason, while still others simply preferred to be alone for the time being and enjoy the luxurious living.
One person Lyda met in her solitary sojourns was Frieda Holtz, a blond with her hair tied back like her own, but a taller and more mature woman. She walked with a confident stride as if she had a direction in mind. When she saw Lyda, she stopped, then came toward her.
“Hello, I'm Frieda Holtz from Germany. Do you speak English?"
“Yes, most people here do, or they learn it quickly. I'm Lyda Brightner, from America."
“English is becoming the universal language among us survivors. You are ... how old?"
Lyda could tell the German woman was friendly and intelligent. “I'm old enough to be the mayor of the people I live with,” she said politely. As near as she could calculate, she was now well past her fifteenth birthday, but she had the appearance of a woman of eighteen. Or so she thought from reflections in the pools. She didn't know whether the aliens had no use for mirrors, or depriving humans of them was part of their unknown strategy, but they were never available.
“Good. Never tell a stranger your real age.” She laughed as if that were some kind of joke, then continued on. “Your group does what? If you sit in the dream rooms all day, I do not want to go there.” She spoke as if she had already discerned Lyda's intentions, and Lyda thought she had.
“We discourage it."
“Not forbid?"
“No. I don't run that kind of group."
“You are wise, then. May I come with you?"
Lyda was gratified. “Certainly. We'll be glad to have you."
“You know that already, eh?"
“Yes. You're a good person."
“As are you. And one who has gone through the fire, I believe. Shall we walk and talk?"
“All right. It's time to head for home anyway."
“Yes, I know. This is a new thing, is it not, our being able to sense others’ intentions and attitudes?"
“Not everyone is good at it,” Lyda reminded her. “And only surface intentions are open to those who have the ability. Deeper thoughts are still private."
“So far. Perhaps the progression will continue, as the strength and healing ability and resistance to injury of our bodies may also."
Lyda had often wondered that very same thing. How long would the improvement of mind and body continue? Just recently, she had tested her strength, using readily available containers and water to estimate the weight. She took care that she did it privately; she knew that superiority in strength over males affected the psyches of some of them adversely. She could lift two hundred pounds above her head without straining unduly, yet her body was that of a normal young woman, as slim and as nicely curved as she could possibly wish. As a further test, she had attempted to cut her own arm. She could, but the skin resisted her efforts, toughening under the worn sawteeth of her paring knife, but remaining soft and still feminine to the touch elsewhere.
“Have you thought of where the improvements might ultimately lead, and why the aliens are doing this to us?"
“Of course. All of us have wondered about it, those who have survived the trials so far. But reasons? There could be many. I have considered some, as I'm sure you must have, but nothing I thought of is subject to testing."
Something in Frieda's way of phrasing made her think she must have been a scientist of some sort. “Subject to testing” was similar to the wording she had heard some of Dad's friends use when they were invited over.
“What kind of science did you do before the aliens came?” she asked.
“Physics. And believe me, the aliens have upset most of the theories I learned before they came. We were transported to at least one new planet at faster than light speeds. Either that, or the propulsion method is far beyond what we can comprehend. If we were transported at slower than light speeds, the time dilation effect was reached very quickly."
“Could the planet have been a construct in the Oort Cloud, maybe?"
“And the other environments? Were we in a ship? And where is this place? It's huge, endless."
“Nothing is endless,” Lyda corrected.
“Yes, but still big enough so that it couldn't be hidden on earth."
“How about illusion? Could we be imagining everything that's happened by ... uh, having it implanted into our minds? Or projected into our minds somehow? Sort of like how the pleasure rooms work?"
“It would make no difference either way. Personally, I don't believe it has been illusion, nor do I think you believe that."
“I don't,” Lyda
declared. “All this should be discussed, though. I've got a class started where past experiences are compared and contrasted and gone over. No conclusions so far, but many interesting theories. Hypotheses, I should say."
“Right. No way to test them, but interesting to talk about. You were in science—no, I see you are too young, unless you were a prodigy."
“I've tried to attend as many of the classes I start as possible, particularly the ones covering subjects I know little about. Hey, there's Anay."
Anay was a recent addition, an Indian who had been a medical doctor practicing in Calcutta. He had seen his wife and two children die from wounds inflicted by the spider mechs in the initial invasion of earth. He had overcome his grief and now used his time to study the physical and mental changes that had taken place in the bodies of many of the survivors.
“Greetings, Miss Brightner. As always, I am pleased to see you have returned safely."
“There's nothing to hurt us here except the pleasure rooms."
“And humans."
“That hasn't been a problem so far, but you're right, Anay. We should remember that humans can be dangerous. Thanks for reminding me."
“You're most welcome."
Lyda introduced Frieda and they walked on into the central courtyard. Classes were finished and most of the group was already gathered for the evening's informal meeting. Lyda had instigated that daily routine to keep people from straying to the pleasure rooms. Some went anyway. Lyda felt she was fighting a losing battle. While the friendly back and forth banter went on, she listened, but with half her attention. The other part was focused on Leo and a project she had decided on, if he would agree to it.
