Stasis: A Will Vullerman Anthology

by J. Tobias Buller

  The sky?

  Will sat up from where he lay. Hot sand stuck to the back of his sweaty shirt and rustled beneath his legs. Massive white-yellow sand dunes surrounded him, like a tempestuous sea frozen and painted gold.

  A desert? The Sahara, maybe. What in the world was he doing there? It had been several years since he had been in the Sahara—he had been on a mission at the time. It looked exactly as he remembered it.

  But how did he get there, and who took him?

  Will blinked again and tried to stand up, but the world felt like it was shaking underneath his feet. An earthquake? He threw out his arms to steady himself, but he tumbled to the ground, his cheek pressed against the sand.

  But the sand was clean-smelling and a little prickly. Something buzzed near his ear.

  He pushed himself up to his knees. Grass tickled his legs.

  Grass? How in the world was it grassy in the Sahara? Had he stumbled into an oasis?

  He stood up. Grass stretched in every direction, as far as he could see. The same blue sky that he had seen in North Africa loomed over the emerald land like a protective blanket.

  Will stumbled forward. His eyesight blurred, and he shook his head, trying to clear his vision. Nausea roiled in his stomach.

  He focused again. More grass. Green and blue kissed on the horizon.

  Kansas territory. It had to be. He'd know it if he saw it in black-and-white.

  But he didn't have on a nuke suit. Was that why he felt nauseous? Will tried to recall how low levels of radiation affected the human body, but nothing came to mind. How long did it take for the nuclear exposure to become fatal?

  And how did he get from his house to the Sahara to America? What in the world was going on?

  ************

  "Director Brownbarr, sir?" Mothinghotch poked his head into Brownbarr's office. "Mr. Rolvo from intelligence would like to speak with you, sir. He's found some information about the identity of the man that kidnapped Mr. Will Vullerman. He's just outside."

  "Good." Brownbarr set down the folder on his antique mahogany desk. "Send him in."

  Rolvo, the head of the intelligence unit, entered the office. He was a short, bald man with a wide forehead and deep-set eyes so dark that they looked black. The flesh around his left eye was scarred, locking it in a permanent squint. Two silvery scars ran down his face just to the left of his eye. Brownbarr frowned and tried to remember how Rolvo had gotten that scar. Had it been on his file? It had something to do with a terrorist group in western Europe, but further than that, Brownbarr didn't remember.

  "Directah, sah." Rolvo nodded to Brownbarr respectfully. "I've got news on this charactah you've given us to resea'ch."

  Brownbarr gestured with one hand. "Spit it out."

  Rolvo set several full-color reports on Brownbarr's desk. "We've analyzed the man's complexion, voice tone, and especially the type of bracelet he wore. Ah results indicated Middle Eastahn origin. The lettahs on the bracelet were hahder to trace. Once we had indicated the man's descent, howevah, it narrowed ah sea'ch."

  Brownbarr leaned forward and frowned. The Middle East, was it? Half the ASP's missions were in the Middle East. It had never been a peaceful place, so there was always plenty of work to do there.

  "We managed to hack into the Persian mainframe, howevah," Rolvo continued, "and traced some coded files that contained the acronym found on that bracelet. We broke into the files and discovered top-secret resea'ch. AAA, according to that report, was the acronym taken on by a group of Eastahn activists, which means Arabs Against Americans."

  "How ironic that they named their organization in English."

  Rolvo shrugged. "They claim to be a remnant of the old anti-American groups that annihilated America back in the eahly twenty-second century. The report also mentioned that the group sees themselves as God's judgment on the wickedness of the Americans. Since the Americans are back, sah, you can well imagine what their goal is now."

  Brownbarr grimaced. "Extermination. So it looks like the ASP aren't the only ones that know how to hack. One way or another, they've traced the America mission back to Vullerman."

  "Exactly. And by taking Mr. Vullahman, they're warning the ASP to stay out of theh business."

  "But we won't," Brownbarr growled. "This AAA is a violation of international law, and making sure the international law is followed is exactly why the ASP was created." Brownbarr stood. "Keep your researchers and hackers on the job. Try to discover more about this group and their possible whereabouts. And search for information about a ring that knocks people out. If it was a temporary knock-out, then Vullerman might escape."

  "Escape?" Rolvo raised an eyebrow.

  "He is our top operative. He's got himself out of scrapes before."

  "All right, sah. Will do." Rolvo turned and strode out of the office. Brownbarr stood, rounded his desk, and followed him. He had some visits to make. If Rolvo could find some lead on AAA's location, then the ASP had to be ready to storm the place.

  Brownbarr dug his new comm out of his pocket and stuck the earpiece in his ear. It was a Voltage 2170, rather bulky and far from high-tech, but the simple hardware had allowed ASP technicians to upgrade the security system. "Comm, relay a message to all active ASP operatives."

  "Now recording," said the comm.

  Brownbarr paused for a moment, and then spoke. "All ASP operatives on alert. Please stand by for further information. We have a code yellow situation and all operatives must be equipped and ready to move out at short notice. Love, the Director of the ASP, Danton Brownbarr."

  "Sarcasm detected," his comm said. "Erase?"

  Brownbarr chuckled. "No, send it."

  There was a beep. "Message sent."

  ************

  Will breathed deeply, and his stomach settled. The air tasted just as he remembered, clear and fresh, but it smelled oddly...metallic? He couldn't place the scent. It was something just barely out of place, tickling the back of his mind.

  Will's vision cleared, and he gazed at his surroundings, confirming what he had suspected. It was a picture-perfect image of the Kansas he had explored a few weeks ago on the America mission. It was not unlike the Sahara in some ways; the rolling hills reminded Will of a stormy ocean, a bed of vibrant emeralds.

  So he was in America. He took in another deep breath and tried to clear his mind. He had been trained for stressful situations. He could do this.

  The last thing he remembered before blacking out was putting the ring on. The man had done something to him, obviously. But what? Had the ring made him hallucinate?

  The ring! He raised his hand and squinted. There, on his little finger, was the iron ring. Will felt it, but to his surprise, he didn't feel anything where the ring was supposed to be—just his own finger. It was like the ring wasn't even there—a hologram or illusion.

  Will swallowed hard. So he couldn't get the ring off and end this situation.

  All right, so he was in a hostile situation. Never mind where he was; where was he going? Was there a way to transport himself, like what happened when he went from the Sahara to Kansas?

  Will frowned. He didn't remember doing anything to make himself go to Kansas, so he crossed out that possibility.

  The only thing he could do was wait. If someone had transported him to Kansas, then they'd make an appearance soon enough. "Good things come to those who wait," as Will's grandpa used to say.

  He might as well explore while he was at it. Maybe he could find something to help explain this situation. Will took a step forward, but a familiar male voice from behind stopped him.

  "Is that you, Will?"

  Will turned around, and what he saw threw his training out the window.

  "Grandpa?" he whispered.

  ************

  "Directah Brownbah!"

  Brownbarr turned from the agent he was speaking to and spotted Rolvo fast-walking down the hallway. "What is it, Rolvo?"

  Rolvo, sweat glistening on his bald head despite the co
ol air conditioning, gestured down the hall. "If you'll come to intelligence, sah, we have news on the ring that incapacitated Mr. Vullahman."

  Brownbarr followed Rolvo down the hall into the intelligence department's main room, which was one of the largest centers in the entire facility. Rows of seats, monitors, and back-to-back touchpads covered the room and grew up from the floor like weeds. People swarmed it all, working on computers with noise-isolating headsets, examining the monitors, or simply standing around and talking. ASP badges flashed everywhere as men moved about the room. Shouts filled the air.

  "I've got a lead in the Persian sector!"

  "Agent Batton to section three, please! Batton, get over here!"

  "I'm in the Israeli mainframe. Stand by for alert deactivation."

  Screens covered nearly every open space, and an especially large one was mounted high on the far wall, depicting a massive map of the world.

  The United Republic of Africa States filled much of the northern half of Africa. Farther south there were more African republics, such as South Africa, the Congo, Tanzania, and others. In the far east loomed China and various east Asian countries; the Middle East was sharply divided into smaller countries, the biggest of which was Persia. In Europe, many of the smaller countries were marked over with a label titled "The European Confederation [EC]". To the far west, North America was blank. The Rift, a trans-oceanic rip in the Americas, divided North America and South America. South America was a patchwork quilt of countries, but Brazil filled much of its eastern half.

  Rolvo's voice jolted Brownbarr from his study of the map. "Directah, sah!" Brownbarr glanced over in the direction of the voice; Rolvo was already at one of the monitors, flashing through icons and punching in passwords with one hand. Brownbarr approached him and studied the screen. Words and pictures streamed across the high-def monitor. Several photos depicted an iron ring identical to the one Vullerman had put on.

  "As you can see, sah,” Rolvo said, pointing to one such picture, “we've found information on this device. The Persian government called it the Reality Ring. It's apparently a prototype for full-simulation virtual reality, one that doesn't requiah a headset. It manipulates the nerves of the body for full sensory effect. By doing this, it creates a die-mension that simulates reality almost perfectly."

  Brownbarr grunted. "Is there a time limit on it?"

  "According to the resea'ch," Rolvo said, "no limit or precaution had been programmed when it went missing. There was only one way to deactivate it from the inside, but it wasn't on the file we found."

  "So this Reality Ring went missing?"

  Rolvo shrugged. "One way or anothah, the AAA got hold of it."

  "I see." Brownbarr frowned, scratching at the stubble on his chin. "Vullerman isn't going to be waking up anytime soon, then. It would be the perfect way to keep him unconscious without having to inject him every couple hours. If we're going to get him back, we've got to find the AAA's whereabouts."

  "We ah on it, sah. They're close to a solution."

  "Good." A thought occurred to Brownbarr. "Does this ring emit a signal?"

  "I'd assume so. It's a complex piece of technology."

  Brownbarr stared at the three-dimensional sketch of the Reality Ring slowly rotating on the screen. "Try and find the signal using the coding information on this file. We may be able to break it. If not, then we might communicate to Vullerman, at least."

  "Yes, sah." Rolvo saluted, and turned, relaying Brownbarr's orders.

  Brownbarr returned his gaze to the map. Vullerman was somewhere out there, and as Director of the ASP, Vullerman was Brownbarr's responsibility. And Brownbarr vowed that he wouldn't fail in his duty.

  ************

  "How...?" Will staggered backward, his heel catching on a close-knit clump of grass. It couldn't be Will's grandpa...could it? "You're—you...you can't be here."

  "Will, it's me." Grandpa took a few steps forward, extending his arms out to Will. His thick, graying hair and sun-worn face looked wonderfully alive in the Kansas sunlight. A large nose and a wide mouth open in a smile completed his face. His frame was tall, over six feet, and thick-boned, something that Will had inherited from him.

  It looked like him. It sounded like him. Will struggled to swallow. But how could it be his grandfather? Paul Vullerman was dead.

  Will wanted to resist. He did. It had to be a figment of his imagination, another hallucination. But he wanted it to be true. He wanted it with everything he had—to know that his grandpa was alive and well.

  Grandpa's arms enveloped him in a familiar, strong embrace. "Shhh," he said, resting his chin on Will's shoulder. "It's me, Will. It's okay."

  Will pulled away. "You're gone. You...it was NRC. I was there. I watched, as—as..." That last breath. The long beep that tore his heart in two...

  "But the body isn't everything, Will." Grandpa let his hands fall to his side. "Haven't I told you that, so many times? As you grew up on my knee, I told you that this world is a passing thing. My spirit still lives on."

  Will had to admit that he sounded like Grandpa Paul. And he had told Will so many stories about the spirit and God and religion when Will was younger... "But—but how are you here?"

  Grandpa gestured at Will's hand. "We're in a virtual reality. That ring you're wearing? They call it the Reality Ring. It manipulates your nerves so that you think you're in another place. My body is gone, but my spirit was captured in the Reality Ring. They had begun working on the preliminary prototypes of it when I died, so I've been here ever since."

  It couldn't be true, could it? As bizarre as Paul's explanation sounded, it made sense. At least, the technical side of it. Will wasn't sure how a spirit could be drawn into a technological object, though.

  His heart ached for this man's explanation to be true, that this really was Paul Vullerman, back from the dead. But instead, Will steeled himself. He couldn't believe that this was his grandpa. Not yet. He couldn't bear to lose his grandpa twice.

  So what would he do? This grandfather of his had to be tested. No, not grandfather—this man, this person calling himself Paul Vullerman. He'd bide his time and see if the truth came out.

  "So who gave this ring to me,” Will asked, a little abruptly, “and how do you know about it?"

  "Sometimes I can watch real events.” Paul stood awkwardly beside Will, apparently caught off guard by Will's frosty tone of voice. For a moment Will hated himself for even thinking of hurting his grandfather in such a way, but he forced the thought away. Emotion wouldn't help him right now. There would be time for emotion later, if this man really was Will's grandfather.

  Paul continued, "I watched as that man in the long-sleeve t-shirt gave you the Reality Ring. He's one of the people that put me in here. They mean you harm."

  Will frowned. If this Paul was an illusion created by the long-sleeved man's allies, then would he be telling Will that they meant him harm? Did that mean Paul wasn't an illusion?

  "They're part of the AAA. Arabs Against Americans is the acronym.” Paul's searching gaze found Will's, and for a moment Will couldn't move beneath the scrutiny of those brown eyes. "They're angry that the American people survived the nuclear war. They found out you were the man on the American mission and targeted you first—the top ASP operative. They could wake you up any time for your...execution." Paul said it with urgency and pain: any time.

  Will avoided his gaze. "You know about the American mission?"

  Paul nodded. "I've been watching you, Will. Sometimes I can manipulate the reality so that it projects what has gone on in the past. And I saw you on the American mission." He paused. "I'm so proud of you—going out into the land of my birth. My grandson, a hero...even if no one else knows about your role in the mission."

  Will swallowed hard.

  No, he couldn't. He couldn't give in. Not until he knew for sure whether this man was really his grandfather or not. "How does this...Reality Ring work? I was in the Sahara one moment, Kansas the next.”

&nb
sp; Paul shrugged. "I'm not quite sure. Judging by what I've seen of the past, you could be in the Reality Ring for what feels like minutes and be out like a light for hours. Time works strangely here. But I did notice one thing—the more you walk, the sooner it seems to whisk you away to another place. If I find a place I like, I stay put.”

  Finally! Something Will could do. “Let's walk, then.” Will started forward aimlessly, picking a direction and walking like he was actually going somewhere. Paul kept up beside him, his long legs eating up the meters, easily keeping pace with Will.

  Will tried to reorient himself as the silence stretched on. Paul's appearance had jarred his emotions a little bit, but Will's objective was unchanged: get out of this alternate reality. He added another: don't trust Paul.

  “How do you get out of this place?” Will snapped off the top of a long prairie plant with his left hand and twisted it with his fingers, stripping the seed pods off the blades, pouring his frustration and longing into the action.

  Paul gave Will a sideways glace. “I've listened in on the conversations of AAA members, but no one let slip how to get out of here." His voice softened. "Besides, if I got out of here...I would revert back to my spirit form."

  He would be gone again. Yet another reason why Will couldn't accept that his grandfather was here, even if Paul was speaking the truth.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets, but as he did so, he felt something, deep in the hollow. His comm!

  Will pulled out his comm, halting, a grin spreading across his face. If he could get his comm to work—

  Paul stared at Will, stopping beside him. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm seeing if I have a comm signal here." Will jammed the earpiece in his ear. "I don't know how it would work, but maybe if I manipulate my comm in virtual reality, I can get it to work in real life. I could call for help, or even hack my way out of this. Surely this Reality Ring has some sort of a coding system I could break into."