I thought the biocopy of my face was perfect, so I figured Martin was just used to looking down at me in Auto. Then one of my pre-migration counseling sessions popped into my head.
“Eventually, you’ll be just like everyone else. How will you handle that?”
Apparently not very well since it brought my train of thought to a screeching halt. I could feel my smirk rapidly melting away while I had completely forgotten my standard order. In a stupor, I stood there silently, trying desperately to gather my thoughts while the line behind me continued to grow, adding even more anxiety to the situation.
“Sir?”
“Sorry! Let me get a coffee with cream and sugar.”
“Hot Joe! Tan and sweet!” Martin shouted before I even realized what I had done.
A coffee! With cream and sugar? That wasn’t the caramel latte I had ordered countless times before. I couldn’t even fathom what the hell had just happened before he moved the transaction along.
“Please provide your thumb, sir.”
Following his instructions, I paid for my painfully average beverage and made my way down to the pickup station. Thinking about it more, it wasn’t an ordinary screw-up with the coffee. It also wasn’t simply part of the migration process. When I asked for the regular coffee, I was certain it was what I wanted rather than the “fancy” drinks I used to love. That was the moment I started to see a pattern of mental lapses and confusion and was again certain of its origins.
Charlie.
It was too bad I couldn’t talk with Tony in that moment, but instead had to prepare for the most boring dead-end job ever. So, with the mediocre java in hand, I made my way to the thirteenth floor. Arrows directed me through several narrow hallways and around a few corners to the New Hire area of lead generations. I approached the receptionist’s desk.
Without looking up from the hologram of a man in front of her, she exaggeratedly extended her hand with only her index finger pointed up to let me know how much of an inconvenience I was, and for a moment, I was reminded of my days in Auto.
When the receptionist finally made eye contact with me, she quickly clicked off her hologram and batted her eyelashes at me. “Oh, hello.”
“Hi. I’m Ryan Carter.”
“Hello, Ryan. The pleasure is mine.”
“Okay. I’m here for training.”
“Oh. Right. Training. Let me see.” She did a quick search for my name on the holo-screen, and a name appeared. “You’ll be training with Mike. His office is on the other side of the department, so you can head over there, and you could also head over to my place later, if you aren’t busy.”
“Uh. Thanks, but I’ve got plans. I’ll go see Mike now.”
ADG never prepared me for the occasional sexual harassment, but I shook it off and headed toward the double doors of the lead generations department. Having never had clearance to the area, I didn’t know what to expect, but as soon as I touched the handle, a buzz and click let me know that the doors had unlocked. I pulled on one handle, and as the door opened, my ears were assaulted by the sound of hundreds of monotonous voices droning on and on about becoming a lead for NTE. My eyes were accosted by the intense light of hundreds of holograms filling the space between the floor and ceiling. Waking up that morning, I had been certain that my headache couldn’t get any worse, but the hell in front of me proved me a fool. As I headed over to the office labeled for Mike, I overheard one of the lead generators give their canned speech.
“Do you consent to us sending your contact information to a sales representative who will provide you with a demo of our latest products?”
“Do you consent to us providing your contact information to third parties so that they may contact you with special offers?”
“Do you consent to us keeping you on the list as a potential customer in the future?”
As awful as it was, it wasn’t half as bad as when I finally met with Mike, or Mr. Personality as he turned out to be. The “training” he provided wasn’t nearly two hours long. As dry and boring as they came, he definitely stuck to teaching me the role and did nothing to sell me on why I should like the position. It was one thing to act like a robot processing data, but it was another to do so while talking to real people. The whole experience made it clear to me that I wouldn’t be very successful in the department, so would need to look for a different job pretty quickly. With a lot of time left before meeting with Tony, I decided to head to my old cubicle to grab the data-processing awards and double-check if any process items had come in. When I got there, the awards had already been removed and my thumb check resulted in access denied.
I was about to leave, but an urge made me try to ID in again, and again, it failed. A burning desire to perform a data search began to grow from within me just like before. Consumed by the thought, I headed downstairs to see if the netbar had any open workstations. I had spent many hours in the netbar because the large window in the front of the room actually let sunlight in, something we never got on the upper floors.
An overwhelming sense of frustration came over me when I saw that all workstations in the netbar were being used. I paced around for just a moment, then saw someone gathering his things to leave. After he IDed out, I pushed my thumb in and was presented with a message.
Your account does not need access to the netbar. Please contact an administrator if you think you have received this message in error.
Dammit!
I had an undeniable desire to perform a search, and the limited search functionality available on my netphone would not suffice. Peering around, I saw a woman in the netbar who was about to ID out and headed over to intervene. Before she got her thumb into the reader, I walked by and “tripped” over her bag.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!”
We both scrambled to pick up her things and put them back in the bag. At the same time, I scooted myself in front of her holo-screen. We stood up together as she flung her bag over her shoulder, and we looked into each other eyes.
Her initially frustrated face softened instantly. “You know what? Don’t even worry about it.”
“No, no. That was rude of me. Let me repay you. How about dinner tomorrow night?”
She blinked hard, then gave me a wide-eyed smile confessing that she was definitely interested. “Oh. Well, sure.”
Diane gave me her contact info, I apologized again, and when she went to look at the holo-screen behind me, I nonchalantly blocked her view.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be using the workstation, and I can’t wait to get to know you better over dinner.”
She grinned and headed out the door.
The workstation was mine, and I could complete all of my data searches. For a moment, my mind went blank as to what I needed to search. Then my hands went on autopilot like they did before and they began to type.
THE PADRE
Enter.
1,500,981 RESULTS FOUND.
Again, without thinking, I began pouring through article after article, looking for anything that stood out to me. After having gone through everything relevant, I was about to give up when a voice in my mind spoke.
Search for Ernesto Guerrero.
Typing in that name along with “the Padre” came back with only fifty-seven results. The headlines were all dated starting around twenty years ago, and they were interesting to read.
RAGS TO RICHES: ERNESTO GUERRERO, LOCAL BUSINESSMAN, ELECTED ALDERMAN, MARKTOWN.
MARKTOWN ALDERMAN SECURES GARBAGE PICKUP FOR FIRST TIME IN SIX YEARS.
ALDERMAN GUERRERO REDUCING CRIME THROUGH JOBS PROGRAM.
The entries were fascinating, and the guy sounded like a real hero to a neighborhood that had a reputation for turning itself around. But then I read further and discovered the actual fate of the Padre.
LIKE FATHER, NOT LIKE SON. ALDERMAN ERNESTO GUERRERO ARRESTED BY POLICE OFFICER
ERNESTO GUERRERO, JR.
ALDERMAN INDICTED FOR ENABLING ORGANIZED CRIME.
FORMER ALDERMAN ERNESTO GUERRERO, AKA THE PADRE, ACCEPTS PLEA; PROBATION ONLY.
BODY OF FORMER ALDERMAN GUERRERO FOUND.
After reading the last title, I couldn’t contain myself. “Yes!”
My audible excitement disturbed some people around me, and as I motioned them an apology, my mind swirled to reconcile the fact that the Padre was dead. Part of me was so relieved and excited because I knew it would bring peace to Charlie. Another part of me was in disbelief. The Padre was formidable, and he must have gotten in really deep if someone was able to take him out. I wanted to know more, so I selected the last article to read further. Then I received what I thought was an error message at first, but then I focused on what it said.
ARTICLE NOT FOUND. CEASE AND DESIST SEARCHING.
Weird. Trying to open the article again, another box appeared.
ARTICLE NOT FOUND. IT IS IN YOUR BEST INTEREST TO STOP SEARCHING.
What the hell?
The messages made me more frustrated than scared, and with force, I tapped the article one last time.
LOOK OUT THE WINDOW.
My anger evaporated into sheer terror in an instant, and I slowly peered over my shoulder just in time to see a giant man in a black jumpsuit place his palm against the glass.
Crash!
Bolting from my seat as chaos broke out in the netbar, I headed for the foyer without a second thought. In the front of the building, there were two more men in black entering through the turnstile doors and looking in my direction. There were two more exits I knew of, and I headed for the closest one. As I darted toward the elevators, the building security officer finally noticed me.
“Hey! You can’t run in here!”
Proving him wrong, I sprinted for the stairwell and busted open the door. Sliding down on the handrail, I dropped down to the second lower-level before I heard another door open, but it wasn’t the ground-level door that I came from. Stopping, I peered down over the hand railing to see who was below me. Two more men in black.
“Shit!”
My expletive resonated throughout the hollow space as I exited the stairwell at LL2. Having never been on that floor, I used my general knowledge of the building’s layout to get to the stairs on the other side of the floor. Janitor equipment and supplies crowded the hallways as I weaved around corner after corner. Jogging the maze for a minute, I could see the door to the other stairwell at the end of the hallway, but something inside of me told me to stop. If the men found their way to LL3 before they even knew where I was going, they would surely be in the other stairwell. Sure enough, the door began to open as an unexpectedly familiar ding gave me an idea. I doubled back without being seen by the men entering the floor, and to my relief, discovered a freight elevator just as its doors were opening. Maintenance was rolling out an oversized piece of machinery, and I slipped into the elevator behind them without detection. Desperately scanning the floor options, I noticed the parking garage button, and with all my might, I pushed it. In all my history with slow elevators, this one took the cake. After an eternity, the doors began to close just as the men in black appeared in the hallway in front of me.
“Hey!”
I threw myself into the corner of the elevator while keeping one eye on the doors. I wasn’t sure which god was looking out for me, but they closed just before the men could get a hand in. Still, they knew where I was going, so I imagined I wouldn’t be able to escape so easily. I would just have to hightail it the very second the door opened.
Two more floors.
One more floor.
Ding!
Dashing from zero to full speed in a second, I was out of the elevator and past three rows of cars before I heard the echo of the stairwell door opening. I glanced back for just a second, seeing all six of the men coming after me. Passing one last row of cars, I turned out of the garage and onto the street. In my peripheral, I could see the next bullet headed for the stop ahead of me, and I had to be on it or I was dead.
Waving my hand, I got the driver’s attention, and she made the instant stop to pick me up. I squeezed between the still-opening doors and pressed my thumb down before she could even ask for fare. Heading for the back of the bus, the seat I chose had a small window for me to make eye contact with the men in black right before we accelerated to one hundred twenty kilometers per hour. Gasping for air, it took me several minutes to calm down before I realized my headache was worse than ever. Looking at the passing streets, I realized my luck had continued in that I was heading toward ADG.
Tapping the button to alert the driver of my stop, I had another two minutes to contemplate the situation. Who the hell were those men, and what did they want with me? I had no idea, and the bus came to a complete stop before I could really come up with any kind of theory. Still in running mode, I was out of the bus and into the ADG building in a flash. Tony’s office door was already open, so I walked in and shut the door behind me.
“Hi, Ry—”
“I know for sure, unquestionably that someone else is in my brain. Someone who is real. Or at least they were real at one time.”
“Okay. Slow down. We talked about this before, right? A man named—”
“Charlie! Yes. He’s real. And he’s in me. Or my brain. I don’t know. But I found some old new articles on him and his old boss. When I looked up his old boss, just before I came here, I got chased out of my place of employment by men in black. What the hell is going on?!”
Tony reached for his holo-pad as he responded, “Wow, Ryan. That’s fascinating.” He began writing something down on the pad as he continued to talk. “Let’s try some silent meditation where you lie on the couch, eyes and mouth closed for twenty minutes.” He finished writing.
“Dammit, I don’t need any—”
He flashed a hologram of what he wrote.
Quietly place your netphone on the couch and meet me in the Garden of Gods and Titans in two minutes.
“You know what? Silent meditation sounds good.”
As odd as his message was, I was open to anything that would help me understand what the hell was going on. Doing as told, I walked into the maze of green, tall shrubbery and waited until Tony appeared. He put his hand on my shoulder and motioned us to walk through the labyrinth.
“Sorry for the dramatics, but it’s better that we talk out here with a little more privacy. You never know who could be listening in on the netphones. Fortunately, the network adapter to my holo-pad broke, and I never got around to fixing it.”
“Okay.” Having never considered being surveilled before, it was something I made mental note of.
“After you reminded me about Amanda Robinson, I got curious and started doing a little digging.”
We turned a corner, moving deeper into the maze.
“Digging into what?”
“ADG’s records from the beginning.”
“How’s that relevant to me now?”
“Well, some of the old records that I looked at aren’t adding up in terms of dates, new hosts, and services rendered.”
Around another corner, there was a long straight away, and I walked a ways before scratching my head. “I don’t follow.”
“It might be nothing, but the inconsistencies are enough for me to want to keep looking into it, and if some of my hunches are true, then I might have an explanation for your…condition.”
“Tony, why are you telling me this? Can’t you lose your job?”
We took another turn and entered the open center of the labyrinth. The familiar statue of Atlas was there as well as some marble benches dedicated to various gods and other titans, and we stopped.
Tony sighed. “Job? If this is as big as I think it is, my job might be the least of my concerns. But that’s just it. If I’m working for dirty peopl
e, that makes me dirty by association, and I didn’t sign up for that. I want to know the truth, but more importantly, I feel responsible for you. I feel responsible for all of the migrators that have come through my doors.”
“Tony…I don’t know how to thank you.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you for pressing the issue. I’m sure this hasn’t been easy for you.”
He motioned me back to his office, and when I got there, I grabbed my netphone from the couch. “Wow, Tony. I feel a lot better. Thanks for your help.”
“No problem, Ryan. I’ll see you later.”
I took the next bullet to my apartment and used all the energy I had left to get to my couch and collapse onto it. It still smelled like Helen, and sadness budded from my core. I knew that I needed to call her again, but all I could think about was sleeping off the rest of the hangover. Stretching out, I could feel the warmth and fuzziness of sleep setting in when the damnedest thought popped into my head.
I am a giant asshole! Diane is in for a hell of a surprise! The least I can do is let her know that big men dressed in black might be coming for her because I was under her ID, but I can’t contact her myself or they might find me too.
I remembered someone who’d bragged about sending anonymous messages in college, swiped my netphone, and a second later, I got an answer.
“Hello?”
“Mom, I need your help!”
Chapter 21:
The Eye of the Beholder
“Mom, I need your help!”
My eyes opened after yelling the odd phrase, and all I could see was the off-white, textured ceiling above me. I could see an interesting ceiling fan upon looking farther, and then my eyes were drawn to the strangest poster on the wall.
The Dome 4.
The Dome had just been in theaters last year, followed by talk of making only one sequel, let alone three. Shaking it off, I continued looking around. The space was filled with interesting items—an odd computer desk, the fanciest holo-clock I had ever seen, and right next to the bed in which I laid was the most disturbing thing of all: a state-of-the-art wheelchair with an interesting code pad on the side. Though, the mechanic in me couldn’t help but noticed that, as advanced as the wheelchair was, the wiring and battery on the back had to be a disaster waiting to happen. Pulling too hard on the right wires would likely cause an overload and probably worse. The distracting thought was nice, but then the strangeness of the situation hit me tenfold.
Between Two Minds: Awakening Page 24
