Rubberman's Cage

by Joseph Picard

Some metal clunked around on the other side of the door; then Messenger started pulling it open. Lenth was surprised that the little hall looked much like the ones that attached to the Citizenry, Providers, and the Reactor level.

  Messenger picked up the remains of the Citizenry's communication device and led Lenth off of the elevator. “Welcome,” he said as he closed and locked the door behind them.

  “Thanks.” Was it just in Lenth's head, or was this hall quieter than the others? Not that he could think of any particular sounds in the other ones. The silence here was its own entity, a thing unto its own, surrounding everything, and Lenth felt like a tolerated guest of it.

  The door on the other side was closed, but Messenger was able to open it easily enough.

  It opened up into a wide space which looked...it looked a lot like a much smaller version of the huge commons area of Citizenry, except tidy and clean. No, more than that. Phil's Unit was tidy and clean, even if a little rough. The Provider's area and the reactor areas were tidy and clean.

  This was smooth. It was soothing to behold. The white walls weren't flat utilitarian panels; they were smooth and curved slightly. A blue, almost fluid-looking rim about two fingers thick ran along the upper edge of the walls, which were twice as tall as the typical Provider room. The floor was shinier, and tiny flecks of metal under the smooth surface reflected light in ways that changed as the viewer moved. The ceiling was smooth, and abstract shapes built into it seemed to embrace the wide, diffused light fixtures.

  Did the Citizenry used to be like this? Was it this overwhelming before the Citizens wrecked it? It must have been incredible.

  Messenger put the wreckage of the communication device by a seven metre wide closed door to the left. They walked by the middle passage, which led to another large area. “This way,” Messenger said, leading them to a third passage to the right. Voices and footsteps echoed very slightly, but the silence was quick to swallow the echoes.

  The right passage continued the clean beauty, if in a slightly more restrictive size. The passage was 'only' four or so metres across. Doors with little words on them were on either side. The first two they passed had pictures above them also. One was of a simply portrayed outline of a person standing. It reminded Lenth of the figures he'd seen during exercise times back in the Unit. Next to that was a person sitting on a half circle that curved from the back of his knees, around to the lower back. The other sign was similar, except that the person standing had a triangle shape for legs.

  They passed another that had a picture of some kind of container with a couple of sticks poking up from it. Half a dozen doors after that just had words, or a blank spot, where it looks like words should be put.

  They came to a stop in front of the last one. Lenth tried to quickly read the word...A...d...m...i...and then Messenger opened the door.

  “Actual?” he called out.

  The room was about the size of Contact's office. While it wasn't as smooth looking as the last rooms, it was still smoother than any other room he'd seen before today.

  On one side sat three white desks with four computers sitting on them. On the right side of the room sat a bed, that had...no...this big thing wasn't a bed. It was for sitting on. It was wide enough that half a dozen people could easily be accommodated. Like an extremely wide, slightly lower chair. Mike had a smaller one of these. Leena had called that a sofa, so maybe this was a sofa, too. This one was in far better condition.

  In the middle of it sat Actual.

  Just a man.

  Lenth was surprised by this, but didn't know what he was expecting. He knew it was just a person, once a Messenger, once probably a Provider, but the corners of Lenth's imagination had mused that he would be far more grandiose, perhaps floating on the ceiling, or wearing some exaggerated Rubberman suit, with pipes and hoses going in every direction...

  But, no. It was just a man. Predictably, a fairly old man. He was even wearing the same thing Lenth was wearing, a standard set of Provider clothing.

  “You're Lenth!” Actual said. His voice reminded Lenth so much of Joints, it almost hurt. He was so familiar, so normal. This being that lived above everyone, and supplied so much, was normal. Welcoming, even.

  “Y...yes, I'm Lenth. It's...nice to meet you!” What else does one say?

  “What do you think of things outside of your Unit, Lenth?”

  Lenth looked at his hands and shook his head slowly. “There's so much. So much, and it's all so confusing.”

  Actual nodded. “That's understandable. This place is so much, and also so much that it almost was. There's pieces of many things, half of which are doing their jobs. And you know what?”

  Lenth shrugged.

  “Most Providers don't notice that it doesn't make sense. They grew up with it.”

  Lenth nodded. “Uh...that makes sense, I guess. I used to think that my Unit was normal.”

  Actual stood up, a feat which looked to be a little difficult. He pointed at Lenth, smiling. “Ah, you get it! Normal is...normal is entirely dependent on where you've been. What do you think of your Unit now?”

  “My Brothers are there, but we don't get to know things.” Lenth looked at Actual who looked ready to speak, but Lenth spoke first. “What is normal for you, Actual? From here, and everywhere you've been, what is normal?”

  “You've seen most of the Provider's home? And Citizens?” Actual asked.

  Lenth nodded.

  “And the reactor, I know you've been around the nuclear reactor.”

  Lenth nodded again.

  “Well, I think you have a pretty good idea of what my normal is, then. They all get along, and when they need something, they ask Messenger, and I get what's needed for him from Division.”

  “You do a bit more than that,” Messenger said.

  Actual shrugged. “Ah, not really. Not much. I'm what happens when a Messenger gets too old to crawl around and fix things.”

  “Excuse me,” Lenth said, “I think you mentioned something important there...you get stuff from Division? Who...who is that?”

  Actual smirked and looked to Messenger. “He's going to need the whole tour, isn't he?”

  Messenger shrugged with a smile. “May as well!”

  Actual went over to one of the desks, got seated in the one of the chairs there, and tapped at a computer a few times. “Well...it's nearly an ideal time for it; the Enemy should be retreating. We can wait a little bit longer.”

  “Enemy?”

  Actual made himself comfortable and smiled. “Have you heard the story about how there was a war?”

  “Gabe told me a bit. He didn't have all the details, and he figured it was a story. Something about lots and lots of people burning.”

  Actual turned to Messenger with a quizzical look.

  “Gabe,” Messenger explained. “He’s a Provider. Taught Lenth a lot of basics after he got out of his Unit. Got him started with reading, for one thing.”

  Actual nodded and turned back to Lenth. “Well, the old ones all saw it coming, but they couldn't prevent it. That nuclear reactor we have? They used to be able to throw those at groups of people, far, far away. It would grow into a ball of fire and force that would turn millions of people and things to ash, and those further away would get sick and die anyway, depending on how close they were.”

  Lenth laughed nervously. “What? Why would people use those?”

  “Because they were afraid of the other guys throwing one at them first.”

  “That's insane!”

  “Indeed!” Actual laughed. “And they made themselves ready for it, even knowing it was insane, because they were all worried that everyone else was more insane.”

  “How do you get ready for having someone throw something like that at you?”

  Actual spread his arms and looked around. “You hide. You hide where the fire can't reach. They first built this place to hide. The fear faded with time, and before the threat came back, they wanted to use this space for other things. Citizenry?
It was once was a place where a kind of people called 'tourists' could stay and visit. They'd come right through my level, from outside, like it was nothing. This place has been given many tasks, most of which have been ended and forgotten. At some point, the Units were a place for bad people, and then a big person called Farm...big Farm...wanted to test medicines on the bad people, and—”

  “The medicines!” Lenth burst out. “The medicine is pointless! Subjects are forced to take not-medicine! For what? To keep us soft? It killed my Brother, Slim!”

  Actual's face grew morose. “I'm so sorry, Lenth.”

  “Why? Why do the not-medicines at all?”

  “Farm may need us, if anything of him survived the war. The system has worked for a long time. Deaths like your Brother's are almost non-existent.”

  “It's stupid!”

  “We can't just change the way things work without knowing how it would affect everything else, Lenth. You know the Rubberman suits that the Managers wear? They were originally worn because Subjects were going to get experimented on with dangerous stuff. Most of those experiments never happened, certainly not the hazardous ones, but we kept the suits to help maintain a healthy, professional distance between Managers and Subjects.”

  “Healthy...” Lenth whispered in disbelief. Lenth paced about slowly, wanting to understand. There were so many questions. “There's a lot of things I think would change.”

  “Well, as you learn, you might gain some perspective on things.”

  Fine. A worry that could wait for now. “You were saying about the war's nuclear things, and the sickness...that's radiation sickness that you're talking about, isn't it?”

  Messenger stepped in. “Actual, Lenth had his mask off by the coolant pool for a while, and Six was in the pool without a suit for several minutes.”

  Actual nodded with a concerned look. “You didn't mention this before. How deep did he go?”

  “A couple of metres. He had to have air, of course.”

  Actual chuckled. “A couple of metres? He wasn't anywhere near the spent fuel?”

  “No...”

  “Well then they're both fine!” Actual yelped. “Didn't a Geiger counter tell you that much?”

  “Aside from the ones that are part of the reactor, there hasn't been an operational Geiger counter for some time.”

  “What?” Actual stood up, shaking his hand in disbelief. “We have a nuclear reactor without any Geiger counters?”

  “It hasn't seemed important in the past,” Messenger said in an apologetic tone.

  “No Geiger counters!” Actual said to Lenth. “In the nuclear facility! No Geiger counters!”

  “Did...did you lose count of your...Geigers?” Lenth asked.

  Actual smiled at Lenth. “It...I don't know why it's called that. It measures radiation. And I guess I have to ask Division for a couple of those, too.”

  “So...I'm not going to get sick?” Lenth asked.

  “No, no, and that other fella's going to be fine, too. Until you get a lot closer to the bottom of the pool, you're as safe as you are in this room. Well, other than drowning, Actual chuckled.

  “What?” Messenger said quietly, “Then...then why the radiation-proof suits?”

  “Around the pool? Usually not needed at all! They're very important for other things down there though, and until we get some counters down there, you may as well keep wearing them anywhere you think it might be a problem. I'll dig you out some procedural manuals later. Better paranoid than dead.”

  “Well. Six will be glad to hear that,” Lenth said, almost to himself. “Which complicates things.”

  “Ah,” Actual roamed over to the computer desks. “You both thought he was going to die all on his own, and you wouldn't have to figure out what to do with the murderer. Yup, that would have been handy.”

  “So what now?” Messenger asked. “Put him alone in a Unit? Kill him?”

  “I wouldn't be first in line to do the killing,” Actual said grimly.

  “I sure know someone who would,” Lenth said, thinking of Leena.

  Actual grimaced. “I suppose there's a handful of people who'd like to, hm?” He poked at the computer again. “Good time for a walk. We can safely see the Enemy, if we suit up.”

  Lenth's eyes widened, and he glanced up. Perhaps more like gawked, because Messenger noticed.

  “Wrong way,” Messenger said, pointing out the door.

  “Hang on. I may as well call Division before I forget,” Actual said. He went over to the computer on the end and tapped a pile of keys, read the screen for a bit, nodded, tapped, and read. This went on for a couple of minutes before he reached to a box beside the computer, and pulled out a headset just like the one Messenger had on the elevator. He put it on and fiddled with the controls.

  “Division? Come in, Division. This is station four Actual. Come in, Division.” Actual covered up the microphone and looked at Lenth. “He's not actually going to come in, it's just something I have to say. I don't understand the way he uses half these words, so get ready to be confused.” He perked up and then replied to the voice on the other end.

  “Yes, Division, I'm requisitioning a few items to be transferred to station four?” He peered at the computer screen, reading off the letters and numbers and...things. “An RH stroke 5-7-3-0 bee. Oh? Well what is...RH stroke 5-7-3-0 see. Ah. It functions the same? Fine, then. And we also need three...no, make it four GRM stroke 300s. Yes. No, that's all for now. Thank you, Division. Roger. Over and out.” And with that, Actual put away the headset, and closed the box.

  “Who's—”

  “There is no 'Roger'. As I said...just something I have to say. I don't understand why; it's been passed down from one Actual to the next.”

  “...Oh.”

  The three of them headed back to the first large, smooth room. Actual went over to the wide closed door, taking a moment to kneel down and poke at the wrecked communication device. “Yeah. I have a spare you can take down. I just ordered a new spare. He said he doesn't have this kind any more, and he's sending a new type that works the same. Seems like a waste of effort on his part. Whatever. Anyway, It's not like Division is always super fast, and you never know. Always good to have spares.”

  Actual led them back out, down the hall, to the large round room. He went over to the seven-metre wide door Lenth had seen on his way in.

  Actual grabbed a handle on the door, and Messenger grabbed another. They both pushed up, and the door rolled into the ceiling with a startling rumble. Actual grimaced, and rubbed his shoulder. Another thing that reminded Lenth of Joints.

  Inside the door was a huge, boxy room, quite unlike the smooth, attractive rooms behind them. This was utilitarian. Boxes and boxes of things laid about, as well as one of the 'shelves with wheels and a motor' like Lenth had seen in the “picker garage”.

  Several large, heavy pieces of wall stood lined up in one corner. A few dozen metal gratings, like the kind he grew up under. Several computer things, beds, a pile of neatly stacked cups: beyond counting. The longer Lenth looked, the more it looked like his life had been neatly taken apart and stacked up.

  “Division brought all this?” Lenth asked.

  “That's right. And he takes away the broken stuff that we can't fix. Like that.” Actual used his foot to shove the broken communication device through the doorway. “I may as well fish out the spare while we're here.” He hummed and clicked his tongue while walking along several piles. “Aha!” He pulled out a fresh one, and handed it to Messenger, who put it out into the central room for the time being.

  Actual was opening another huge door on the other end. Since Messenger was still on the other end, Lenth stepped up to help with the other handle.

  The room was comparatively empty and about half the length. Two Rubberman suits sat slumped in the corner.

  “Messenger!” Actual yelled over, “We need a third suit! You know where the—”

  “Yeah, got it.”

  With all three of them in t
he new room, Messenger and Actual closed the door behind them.

  “Okay, Lenth, like at the reactor, okay?”

  All three put on radiation-proof Rubberman suits. Messenger checked a few details in how Lenth put his on, and gave him the thumbs up.

  “You're going to want to be looking at the floor at first,” Actual said, going over to a panel much like the one on the big elevator. Lenth took the suggestion and kept his head down as the door was pulled up by a motor.

  He saw bright amber light reaching in from under the door. As the door raised, he watched the light creep onto his feet, up his legs, over his hips. He held his hand out to catch it as it rose, almost expecting to be able to grab it. He knew it was going to reach his head soon and could not resist looking. He lifted his head and saw it. A light unlike any he'd ever seen, so distant, across a room he could never have imagined.

  The floor ahead of him was very light brown and cracked apart into pieces not much bigger than a spread hand, as far as the eye could see. Walls? There was some kind of skimpy metal grating, a couple of metres high, many metres away, but a wall?

  There was none. And no ceiling. None he could see. This wasn't like the giant commons room in Citizenry. In Citizenry, you could see the ceiling, it was just ridiculously high.

  This was... this was different...and the light. The light was master of it all. Coming from an incredibly bright spot, the light seemed to be spread wherever it pleased, weakening directly overhead into a slight darkness.

  The light, especially its middle, was terrifying but beautiful. His eyes began to hurt from looking at it, and he had to look away.

  “The Enemy,” Actual said in a sombre tone. “I don't know what it looked like up here before the war, but you can see what's left now.”

  Lenth pointed to the lack of walls and ceiling. “It...it's all gone? The Enemy destroyed it all?”

  “And it comes back, every day. I can only assume that it means we...or the people before, anyway, lost. And now we live where we do. It's difficult to mourn something we didn't know we had, but when I see the Enemy...well, it's never easy.”

  “Are we being hit by radiation right now?”