He’d fleetingly considered trying to get back into the building at night, assuming he could get out of his room alright, to see whether or not he would be able to hack into the Batsu database through one of those screens. But he’d promptly dismissed the idea. Even if he were successful in such an endeavor, the incursion would likely be noticed, and since he’d just been studying there, that would point too closely back in his direction. It was too great a risk to take, especially as he still had no idea how to get out of the compound afterward.
Aside from a five minute break to use the facilities, his screen tutor had kept him going all morning until, by the time it was all over, Roshike’s stomach had been howling with hunger, he’d been sweating from so much mental exertion, and his mind felt as if it had been turned into putty. Hopefully it hadn’t really, but he couldn’t be sure until he’d eaten.
Thankfully, as he followed the directions out of the building and down one walkway after another, it quickly became clear he was headed to the cafeteria for lunch. Roshike was relaxed as he walked in and looking forward to refueling. He wasn’t as eager to talk with the other candidates, who all seemed to be there and at their tables chowing down already. But there was still so much he needed to know, and they could be helpful. Especially Carl, if the fellow could be induced to open up.
Carrying a tray laden with food over to the table the men were sitting at, Roshike wondered if they’d chosen that place themselves yesterday. He hadn’t ever been directed to a specific spot in the cafeteria himself, but he’d always arrived after someone else. The Gaku-net might very well have directed the first person to the table it wanted them at, then let normal group dynamics do the rest. And if it had sent the first man and the first woman to arrive to different tables, that would’ve been sufficient to keep the candidates self-segregating. It was scary to think it could be so subtle in its manipulation of them.
Then he had to grin as he saw Carl and Futoh—the two men sat across the table from one another, giving each other glares in between bites of food. It was strange that they hadn’t simply sat at opposite ends of the table, given their mutual dislike. Could their screens be responsible?
Roshike grabbed a chair on one end, next to the pair, and pretended not to notice the hostile atmosphere between them. “So, what was today all about then?”
Futoh swallowed his food and grinned. “I suppose that depends on what they had you doing.”
Roshike gave the man a blank expression. “It’s only our second day—surely they’ve been having us do the same things, even if we’ve been working separately.” Though he didn’t really suppose anything of the sort.
Futoh shook his head. “No, they finished with the testing yesterday. And already figured out what work we’re best suited for. Today was the—”
Carl interrupted. “You mean they decided what work they think we’re suited for. Even the Gaku-net makes mistakes. Obviously.”
The other man squinted back at him but otherwise ignored the interruption. “Today was the first day of training, for the new jobs we’ll have when we become citizens. So most of us were doing different things entirely. But Carl and me, we’ll both be data checkers in administration—so we spent the whole morning together.” He ended with a smile.
Roshike shook his head. “It seems awfully fast to me.” And how soon would he become a Batsu citizen at this rate, however unintentionally? “What’s a data checker do, then?”
Futoh’s smile became a grin. “It’s easy enough. We just go through citizens’ files to see if the information is full and accurate. You know, cross-check the data with other records and look for blank spots that need to be filled in. Then send what we find on to a different department, where somebody else can straighten it all out. Which is more work. Ours is a nice, cushy desk job.”
Carl frowned at that. “It’s an important responsibility and a vital role in the administration. And if you don’t do your job properly, they’ll soon have you doing something else.” From the tone of his voice, it sounded as if he thought that might not take long. And the icy look he gave Futoh sent the message he wouldn’t be displeased by such a development. He turned to Roshike then. “What kind of job are they training you for?”
“I don’t know. They just had me studying some science stuff. And math. All by myself, without any explanation of what it was for.”
The two other men shared a significant look before returning their attention to Roshike, who wondered what the significance was. But apparently it was nothing horrible, because both of them smiled at him.
Then Futoh shrugged. “I expect they’ll tell you soon enough what you’re supposed to be doing. All that study sounds rough to me though.”
Carl looked wistful. “Sounds rather nice to me. But then I have some ambition to better myself.”
The other man paused with a buttered bun halfway to his mouth. “Just becoming a Batsu citizen is enough betterment for me.”
Both turned their attention back to eating, and Roshike shook his head. Their attitudes to the Batsu were different in a way, but they both seemed to appreciate what the Gaku had to offer them, the security and plenty to eat for a start, without minding too much the cost. More than the debt they were accruing, the dearest price was the freedom they were willing to give up. He couldn’t blame either of them for wanting regular meals and a proper place to live, but neither could he trust them—if they knew, they would certainly oppose what he intended to do.
Roshike returned to his own lunch and started putting it away at a rapid pace. Chewing in silence, like the others, he pondered what the Gaku-net had had him do all morning. It appeared as if he might have done a bit too well on yesterday’s tests to keep from attracting attention, at least. Maybe he’d find out after lunch what it was about. And how much of a problem it would be.
Even though he’d placed his screen on the table where he could keep an eye out for the message that would end his meal and send him somewhere else, the other candidates had all finished and left by the time it came. Roshike had finished a leisurely lunch and was sitting there at the empty table, just relaxing and digesting when he got his new instructions. He stood with a sigh and took his tray to the trash on his way out.
Walking fast across the grass in the general direction he’d been sent, he shifted mental gears and prepared himself for more math and science problems. It was a lecture hall of some sort he was headed for. Only this time when he arrived and went in, the screen sent him not to a small room for individual study, but to an empty classroom with a couple dozen sets of desks and chairs. A giant screen was set into the back wall, and there was a wooden podium standing in the far corner. He didn’t think this would be the place for another one-on-one session with the screen as his tutor, but he was the only one there. So where was everyone else?
He’d had enough of sitting around, so he paced up and down one side of the room, to work off some of his nervous energy while he waited. Whether for further instructions from the Gaku-net or someone else to show up and explain what was going on now, he didn’t know, but he was beginning to realize how horrible life as a candidate could really be. Would it get much better after becoming a citizen? He’d seen plenty of people wearing normal clothes and roaming around the complex freely enough. Or seemingly so. But that left a lot who didn’t. How many had lives just as proscribed, or almost, as a candidate’s? Not that he intended to stick around long enough to find out.
Occupied with those unpleasant thoughts, Roshike was startled when he suddenly noticed a man standing in the doorway. A tall Caucasian with the pink complexion and sandy hair usually associated with the elites. How long had the man been standing there watching before Roshike had realized it? He was getting careless.
The man was wearing a tan checkered shirt and blue jeans, and as soon as he saw that Roshike had stopped his stalking back and forth and was returning his gaze, he walked into the room and across to the podium. Then he turned to regard Roshike. “I don’t often get a cand
idate in my class.”
Glancing down at the tan uniform he was wearing, Roshike smiled, though he really didn’t feel like it. “What gave me away? And what am I doing here anyway?” He wasn’t going to ask who the man was, since he was clearly the teacher. “And where are all the other students?”
“I like the ones who ask questions.” The teacher leaned back against the wall and continued looking at Roshike with keen interest. “I’m Mark Tadashi, and if you’ve been added to my class, you must have been tagged as a potential engineer.”
Engineer? “That doesn’t sound right.” Roshike had a hard time seeing himself building anything. “I think it must be some kind of mistake.”
Tadashi just nodded. “It happens, but we’ll see soon enough if you’re engineer material. And if the Gaku-net made a mistake, it’ll get corrected. Meanwhile, I expect you to make every effort. As for the other students in my class, since they’re not candidates, they’re not on so strict a schedule. They never show up on time.”
Well, that answered that question. But if those other students weren’t candidates, just where in the Batsu did they come from? But however much this teacher said he liked questions, Roshike wasn’t going to ask that one. He expected he could learn a lot listening to the other students though. And by observing them too.
The man wasn’t finished with him yet, though. “What’s your name?”
“Roshike.” Surely he could find that out easily enough by consulting his screen? Roshike could see the bulge in the man’s shirt pocket that had to be it, and he wondered how high the teacher’s access was. Another question he couldn’t ask, but he would try to find out the answer.
Thankfully two young women, a couple citizens in colorful blouses and slacks came in at that point and prevented any more personal talk between the men. They walked right up to the teacher and started in without preamble. “Chie has a question about the homework you assigned us last week.”
Roshike took the opportunity of the man being occupied dealing with those two to take a seat at the back of the room and await the arrival of more students. They soon came straggling in, all citizens in normal clothes and mostly young men and women, though there were a couple of older ones. Chatting among themselves while the teacher was busy, they also snuck quick, curious looks at Roshike. He did stand out, of course, but he couldn’t do much about that. And it would make his task more difficult.
Soon the two women retreated and the teacher moved behind the podium, the screen flickering to life at his side as he did so, displaying a diagram of different sized pipes. Those were laid out in three dimensions at different angles and all connected in one single system. “Today you’re going to learn all about fluid dynamics. We’ll start with how to calculate the pressure of water as it flows through pipes of different diameters.”
Roshike sighed. Being in this class presented a number of opportunities, from studying the others in here with him to finding out what kind of connection the teacher’s personal screen or the one on the wall had to the main servers. But there would be a number of drawbacks as well, such as scrutiny from the other students and the teacher. And needing to appear the eager potential citizen, he’d have plenty of work to do to keep up with these lessons, and he would have to do his best. So he turned his mind to focus on the problem at hand. Pressure.
Chapter 9
Apparitions at Night
That evening at the dormitory
ROSHIKE WAITED FOR his fellow candidates to have had time to reach their own rooms before he slipped out of the locker area by the showers where he had been biding his time. He needed the ability to get out at night, not stay locked in his room, if he was going to do the job he came to do. That would mean fooling the Gaku-net, and he couldn’t let anyone see that. No one had mentioned the curfew, or revealed they knew they were locked in at night, but what he was about to do would still look suspicious to anyone who saw. He’d given plenty of consideration this morning to how to get around the restriction. And the answer had been quite simple.
Walking up to the door to his room and pressing his thumb to the little screen above the handle, Roshike swung the door open and stepped halfway in, reaching high to grab the pile of folded clothes he had left stashed on top of the metal wardrobe. They seemed to be safe there, since no one had come and taken them away yesterday or during the day today. Then he tossed his screen, the registered one they’d given him, across the room onto his cot and backed out into the hall, letting the door close on its own—now the Gaku-net should think he was safely inside his room. Soon to be locked in for the duration.
That part had been easy enough, but he had to make sure he wasn’t seen—or rather that he wasn’t recognized—somewhere he shouldn’t be. But first, he’d have to get out of the dormitory, then he could start scouting around. And that should be sufficient for tonight.
He had to make sure he could get out and move about, but he didn’t want to wait around for Tash’s agents to make contact—with the way every minute of Roshike’s day was proscribed, it might take them a long time to find a safe approach. And he certainly didn’t want to stay here one day more than he had to. The more options for getting into the Batsu database he could find, the better prepared he’d be to move quickly when the time came and the more he would know about any assistance he might require from Tash’s agents. And if he found a good opportunity, maybe he wouldn’t need help—not to do the job itself at least. He’d still likely appreciate a hand getting out of the Gaku once the job was done.
Roshike ducked back into the locker room and stripped off the tan uniform he’d been wearing and the belt he had on under it. He couldn’t stuff those clothes in his locker without alerting the Gaku-net, but they should be safe sitting on top. Even if anybody came through here to check on things or look around, they weren’t likely to notice them, or make anything of it if they did. Dressing in the dark gray shirt and pants he’d worn when entering the Gaku, he felt confident those clothes were close enough to the type of thing some citizens wore, the same kind of casual cut if not nearly as good quality, that he’d be taken for one. From a distance, at least. And he didn’t plan to get too close to anybody. These dark clothes would also help him blend into the shadows when he needed to avoid being seen.
He fastened his belt back around his waist and slipped out of the locker room once again, feeling a lot more like himself. The hallway and the staircase were empty as expected. Pausing on one of the lower steps, he checked carefully to make sure the lobby was deserted too. It was also dark. Between the last glow of the recently set sun still stretching over the horizon and the lamppost lights dotting the sky outside, it was significantly lighter on the other side of the wide glass door, which would make Roshike effectively invisible to anyone looking in. The only question remaining was whether he’d have any difficulty with the lock.
There was no security reader on the door to the dormitory itself, and neither Hiroshi when he’d led them here nor any of the candidates coming and going during the day had found it locked. Perhaps it never was, especially with everybody sealed in their rooms at night, but Roshike thought there might be another explanation. With everybody’s screen constantly connected to the Gaku-net, it knew their location and clearance level and could lock or unlock doors without anybody using their thumbs or physically interfacing their screens to a reader. It would be less secure, which didn’t bother Roshike, but also more convenient.
Crossing the lobby swiftly, he reached the door and took a tentative, gentle tug on the handle. And found it was indeed locked. He held his hand to his forehead to make sure he wasn’t sweating. Just two days inside the Gaku and living like a candidate, his every move dictated by directions from that screen they’d given him, and he was feeling more anxious than on any previous job. Clearly the oppressive atmosphere here, that feeling of confinement and observation, was getting to him.
He needed to get a grip. Shaking his head, Roshike took a deep breath before pulling his shadow screen fr
om its pouch on his belt. He doubted that the code for any of the candidates would trigger the door to unlock during the curfew, and even if it did that would tell the Gaku-net one of them had left at night, which would only cause him more problems. So he started scanning for somebody in the vicinity with higher-level access.
As he waited for the shadow screen to locate an appropriate registration to borrow, he watched the people who were strolling along outside in the distance. Thankfully there were enough of them so he shouldn’t stand out. Then the screen found a mid-level citizen whose access he hoped would be sufficient to unlock the door. Copying that registration for the moment, Roshike heard the lock click, then pulled the door open, wide enough to slip through. Outside, he let it swing shut behind him.
No one seemed near enough to have noticed his surreptitious exit. And hopefully the system would not be able to tell whether someone had been entering or leaving the building, though since it would’ve been logged as someone with appropriate access, it shouldn’t have registered as an anomaly. That was what Roshike was counting on at least.
He stuck to the shadows as he moved away and skirted around another darkened building, wanting to put a bit of space between himself and where the candidates were staying before he was seen by anyone. Once he was far enough away, he assumed the casual gait he’d observed in the students as they left class this afternoon, then he took to one of the wide walkways crisscrossing the compound. Careful and alert to stay well away from everyone else, Roshike took a circuitous route toward that building where he’d had his classroom experience. It was the place he most wanted to study.
When Professor Tadashi had ended his lecture that afternoon and the other students had straggled out of the classroom, Roshike had avoided looking at his screen to see what it said and followed out behind them, watching how they moved and listening to what they said. One of the things he’d overheard was a mention of the professor being a level-nine instructor, which had to mean the man had high-level access to the Gaku-net. Another had been that the teacher had an office where he sometimes met with students one-on-one. If the screen in the classroom didn’t connect directly to the main database, maybe there was one in that office that would.
Whispers of the Dead (Miraibanashi, #1) Page 10
