Connection Part I: A Dystopian Novel (Perfectible Animals Book 2)

by Thomas Norwood

  “I see. I see.” The priest nodded.

  “We can, however, limit access to certain areas,” Salina said. “And not only that—but because Youtopia is a free world, a world where anyone is able to share their view on life, provided that it is not negatively affecting anyone else, then I’m sure it would be quite possible for the Catholic Church to set up churches. Churches that people would be able to visit wherever they were located, provided they had access to a network. And as you say, Father, because Youtopia has many installations and activities which people find attractive, especially young people, then they will no doubt spend a lot of time there, given the chance. Is it not the case that many people no longer go to church these days because of the lack of engaging sermons?”

  “That is definitely a factor, yes.”

  “Well in Youtopia that wouldn’t be a problem. All our architecture is designed to expand or contract based on the number of current visitors. You could get your very best orators to give sermons to hundreds or even thousands at a time. You could even record the best masses and allow people to watch them at a time which suited them. Not only that, instead of providing cheap structures that don’t do justice to the Word of God, you could create virtual buildings rivaling the most impressive that the world has ever seen. Don’t you think that by doing this, you might be able to not coerce, but instead attract more people to your congregations?”

  The priest was staring at Salina with an excited gleam in his eye, and even Shy himself felt inspired by her speech.

  “Well,” the priest said. “You might be onto something.”

  That evening, on their way back to Shy’s hotel, Salina took Shy’s hand in the bus. Shy turned to her.

  “It’s not going to be the same,” she said, “seeing you only in v-space.”

  “No. It’s not.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t see each other at all,” Salina said. “It might be easier that way.”

  “What do you mean?” Shy’s heart started to palpitate harder.

  “I don’t know if I could bear to see you with other people,” she said. “And I know what Youtopia is like.”

  For the last few weeks, at Salina's request, Shy hadn’t been visiting the sex clubs of Youtopia. And he had been missing them. In fact, it was one of the things he was looking forward to most about leaving.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Shy said.

  “But I do.”

  “Are you breaking up with me?”

  “I thought you didn’t like to consider us as being together?”

  “Well, I don’t know. We are, though, aren’t we? In a way,” Shy said.

  Salina put her head to one side and smiled a sad smile at him.

  When they arrived back, Salina said that she had to go home. When Shy offered to accompany her, she told him that she needed to be alone for a while.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

  “Okay.” He nodded, looking down at the ground, too hurt to say anything else.

  He walked into the hotel and up to his room, thinking that maybe he could start by visiting one of the sex clubs now that it seemed Salina was no longer interested in having a relationship with him. But by the time he got to the top of the stairs, walked down to his room, opened the door, closed it again, sat down on his bed, picked up a t-shirt of Salina's that he put up to his face, a piercing pain ripped through his chest. He stared around him at the empty room and clasped tightly onto the t-shirt. Then he crunched over and cried.

  CHAPTER TEN

  SARAH GOT OFF the plane in Melbourne and was picked up outside by a car from her work. Giving Shy a hug, she told him she would see him back home that night. The car was a luxury model, totally unlike the cars that the CSIRO usually used. Sarah helped herself to an espresso from the small bar as the car drove her through the city.

  Half an hour later, it arrived at a building that she wasn’t familiar with.

  “Destination reached,” the car said to her in a friendly voice, and the door opened.

  Sarah got out and went up the stairs to the main entrance of the building. Since her boss had told her to ask for Mr. Wilks, after she had passed through security and reached the front desk, that is what she did.

  The receptionist, an android, put a call through for her and said, “Mr. Wilks will be down in a few minutes, Mrs. Monaghan.”

  Sarah sat down on a low cushioned bench that was obviously some architect’s idea of seating. A minute later a small, balding man with glasses approached her.

  “Mrs. Monaghan, I’m Fred Wilks.”

  “Sarah. Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand.

  “This way please.”

  “Is Michael Khan here yet?”

  “Mr. Khan won’t be meeting us here. He’s at a military prison several hundred kilometers from here.”

  “So what am I doing here, then? I came to speak to Michael.”

  “All in good time, Mrs. Monaghan. First, we need to get you to read over and sign some important papers.”

  Fred led her into a small office and they sat down face to face.

  “As you probably know, Mr. Khan is still considered a prisoner of this city. At present, he is property of the military. Before being allowed access to any military resources, first-time visitors need to be fully screened and must sign off on a number of confidentiality agreements, including the State Secrets Act. Are you willing to do this, Mrs. Monaghan?”

  “What am I committing myself to?”

  “At this stage, nothing, although we obviously hope that you will join our team and help us get to the bottom of SAID?”

  “And if we do get to the bottom of it, how will the cure be applied? I’m only asking because the military is not known for sharing its information. Quite the opposite, as this meeting clearly proves.”

  “Unfortunately, I am not privy to that information, Mrs. Monaghan. Do you have any further questions?”

  “Can I read over the documents you want me to sign?”

  “Of course. They’re here.”

  A small red icon appeared over the inbox of Sarah’s com in the top right corner of her vision. After opening up the message, she began to scroll through page after page of information. It was too much for her to take in so she put it through a rapid summary app, which broke the information down into about a page covering all the major points. It did not contain anything that seemed too constricting at this stage. The document basically just said that anything she learned was never to be shared outside the confines of the military. She didn’t want to sign it, because she had the very strong feeling that she would want to share what she learned outside the confines of the military, but she didn’t really have a choice.

  “Great,” Fred said with a little smile on his face. “We can get started, then. When would you like to be transported to the prison? This evening, or tomorrow morning?”

  “When can I come back?”

  “Whenever you like.”

  “Let’s go now, then.” She wanted to go back home and spend a day, or at least an evening, resting, but the thought of all those poor people dying in that clinic in Guatemala made her press on. Over the past week there had been four casualties alone.

  Mr. Wilks led her out to the elevator, which they took express up to the rooftop. There sat two heli-jets sat, one of them already powering up.

  Mr. Wilks shook Sarah’s hand and helped her load her luggage, which she still had from Guatemala, into the back of the vehicle. A few minutes later, she was being carried skyward so fast that she almost blacked out.

  “Two hours from destination, Mrs. Monaghan. Please let us know if there’s anything we can help you with,” an automated voice came over her noise-canceling headphones.

  Michael sat in a small room, at a table, alone. Across from the table was another chair. He presumed that he was about to have another therapy session. For the last month, the prison had been doing everything it could to make him happy. He had been taken off all drug trials, r
elocated to a “superior suite” which was the prison equivalent of a luxury hotel room and he had even been given a com again. He presumed it all had something to do with those two officers from the DoD who had visited him in his room that night, but as yet nothing more had been said about that. Maybe today was the day when the authorities would finally come clean about their motives.

  In preparation for this day, Michael had given away nothing. In his therapy sessions he had answered as sparely as possible, almost as if he did not fully understand the questions. Even in his interactions with other prisoners he had been talking as little as possible. If the prison officials got even the slightest inkling that he was faking his state, they would no doubt resort to nastier forms of persuasion to get what they wanted out of him.

  Just then, a woman entered the room. She was quite attractive. Michael had the strange sensation of having seen her before, although he couldn’t pick where.

  “Dr. Khan, my name is Sarah Monaghan.” Sarah held out her hand but Michael just sat there looking at her. “Don’t you remember my name?”

  Michael looked at her blankly.

  “We never met, but I’m sure Annie would have mentioned me to you. My husband Derek and I were the ones who adopted Shy. From your first round of trials.”

  A tingling helplessness went through Michael, elation and sadness all at the same time. He felt like a chess player who has just realized that the next move is check-mate. They had him. There was no way he was going to be able to resist having a normal conversation with this woman. He remembered her name well. Annie had spoken about her often. She was the one who had adopted Shy—one of the two children whom Annie herself had wanted to adopt when their mother had abandoned them at the clinic. Shy and Harvey had been Annie’s favorites, almost like her own children for a few months, until Michael had been arrested and she had had to foster them out for their own safety, because the government was cracking down on anyone connected to Michael's trials, especially the children who were considered a threat to humanity at the time.

  “How is he?” Michael said, looking her in the eye, tears in his own.

  To be continued…

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you have enjoyed Part 1 of Connection: Perfectible Animals Part I. Keep an eye out for Part II later this year.

  If you liked this work, why not read the prequel? It can be found here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00G190NXS

  Also, please sign up to my mailing list at http://www.thomasnorwood.com.au/mailing-list/ and you’ll receive a free copy of my short story The Last Reader. You’ll also receive offers to be beta-readers of my works in progress (including the remainder of this novel), have access to ARCs (Advanced Review Copies), and keep up to date with everything I’m doing. Not only that, but I’m pretty lazy about sending emails, so you can be sure I won’t SPAM you!

  If there is something you think I could have done better, or you would like to contact me for any other reason, please don’t hesitate to send me an email, and I promise to get back to you. My email address is tom@thomasnorwood.com.au

  Thanks again for reading and I’ll see you next time.

  Thomas Norwood.

  Acknowledgements:

  I would like to say a huge THANK YOU to the following people who helped in the development of this novel. Without you this novel would never have become what it has.

  Allan Dyen-Shapiro (Science advisor and manuscript assessment), Ezra Lunel (Story development consultant), and Carole Duebbert (editor).

  About the author:

  Thomas Norwood is an Australian novelist. He lives in the hills of the Yarra Valley with his wife Iliana and their two cats, Camila and Sawa. Perfectible Animals is his first novel.