Cathedral of Dreams (7 page)

“It's what one of my friends said. I don't know. He thinks the system could be creating the image. But you saw him. Physically. And at the same time that he showed up in the system.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Either you actually saw him or you're so connected to the system that you registered the illusion.”

“Why would the system create an illusion like that?”

“We don't know. We may never know. But you don't have to know everything about a situation in order to make the decision that it's not for you.”

She was right. He made decisions every day, even thought they were small ones: what to eat, what to wear, what to watch. Sometimes, like ending his association with the movie group, he just knew it wasn't for him. He didn't have to know why.

He liked Nellie. Her strange behavior and emotional swings brought variety into his life that he didn't understand, but enjoyed all the same. He couldn't explain how he felt about her or about what she'd told him, but he knew one thing he could do.

“I'll help,” he said.

She pulled him from the sofa and held him. “Thank you. I don't know where this will lead, but thank you.” She stepped back and held his shoulders, gripped them firmly. “But you can't go outside. It's not for you. They'll take advantage of you because you're, you're…”

“Asleep?”

“We've waited a long time for you. You're chipped, but you have a slightly broader frequency of emotion than anyone else in your office. Plus, your chip doesn't kick in at the same amplitude. We think you may be an anomaly. But you're still chipped. You're still part of Newcity. We need you to stay that way.”

Keith nodded.

She hugged him again.

He rubbed her back. Even though she appeared to be happy about his helping her, a sadness came over him. He understood that he couldn't feel the same emotions that she could. He sensed that there was a missing part to his life, to his body chemistry. No passion, he thought. What would sex be like if performed with passion? How different was passion from excitement?

When Nellie separated from him, he thought that she was going to leave, but instead she pulled a map out of her pack. He had never seen a printed map before.

She unfolded it onto one of the side tables. “Here's the complex.”

“The Newcity system, you mean,” he said.

“Yes. It's really just a huge building, a complex of multiple building types according to my friends,” she said.

“You never mention their names. Why?”

“The least you know, the better.”

“You're taking a great risk.”

She smiled at him. Then she smoothed the map and pointed. “Many of the exits only go to another part of the complex. Like little escape routes from one section to another. Each can be closed off if something goes wrong.”

“What could go wrong?”

“A fire. A collapse. Like what happened to your…” She stopped.

“Nellie? What happened?” Keith felt his face flush. “What are you saying?”

“Don't get upset. Please. We don't need things to end here. Forget it. Trust me.” She turned back to the map.

“You've got to tell me,” he said.

“Next time I'm here. I promise.” She looked sincere.

He knew what she was going to say anyway. So, he'd wait until she had more time, when she could get into the details. Besides, by now he knew that he couldn't force her to speak to him. She was strong willed. He didn't even want to try to force her to talk. He leaned over the map. “What else do you want to show me?”

“There are several exits that lead outside, but we've never been able to break through the security at those points. The only way we can get in and out is through service doors and they are heavily guarded.” She pointed to where the boy had been curled up. “Here is where you saw the boy.” She traced the map to the edge, pressed the corner and the image changed. She followed that page and pressed the button again. She glanced up. “You can see where I'm going.” She pressed the corner repeatedly then stopped at the bottom floors. “There are several outside exits on the opposite side of the building from where I work. There are many others that are used as service entrances, as you can see. There are parts deliveries, meat and eggs, produce, everything you can imagine that isn't manufactured inside. Most things are manufactured inside.”

“So what do you need?”

“I need to know which of these doors the boy is coming through. That door will be the least secure,” she said.

“If he can get in, you can get out.”

“Exactly.”

“What about me? Will you take me with you?” he said.

“I told you…”

“But you can protect me. Maybe you can remove my chip.”

She folded the map. “I can't. If the system found you gone and followed you, which they can do through your chip, we'd all be doomed.”

Keith didn't like the sounds of that. “And if they found us together? Now?”

She stuffed the map inside her pack. “Please,” she said with an air of urgency in her voice, “help us break free of this place.”

He touched the scar on her forearm. “Will you tell me what it's like? What the difference is? Will you tell me why your chip was removed?”

She closed her eyes. “It was an accident. Several years ago, in a restaurant there was an outbreak. Someone got angry enough to override the chip. You know what I mean. You've seen the news.”

“Like this morning.”

She shook her head. “This morning? What happened to you this morning?”

“I bumped into a man and he screamed at me. It was horrible.”

“I don't like this. Too many events are happening to you.” She turned her head and whispered. “It's got to be a system test of some kind.”

“What do you mean?” he said.

“There's a lot of activity around you. Maybe too much. What if the system knows that we contacted you and is trying to trap us?”

“I'm not sure I understand.”

She looked into his eyes. “I'm not surprised. Perhaps you're not able to understand.”

“Your arm,” he said. “Let's get back to the story.”

Nellie shook her head as though she understood something that he didn't. “Yes, the story,” she said. “Well, the man had a steak knife in his hand. When the waiters came to calm him down he threw the knife. I raised my arm to protect my face. Miraculously, the knife killed the chip. Million-in-one shot.” She shook her head. “You'll never understand what happened. The strange tingling. The rush of pain, of emotion. It was the most horrible thing to ever happen to me. And the most wonderful.”

Keith stroked her hair.

She leaned in and kissed him.

“Can you stay the night?”

“No. If I get caught here…”

“How do I contact you if I find the security breech?”

“I'll come by, or I'll see you in the hall. I'll find you,” she said.

“You can't let anyone see you entering the apartment. They stop unwanted visitors.”

“I'll take that chance.”

Chapter 5

DAY 3

T
he next day, Keith awakened with the sound of his alarm speaking softly to him. How pleasant to hear the familiar voice. A normal day could easily ensue from such a beginning. He only briefly remembered Nellie's unrequested visit the night before. He had promised to help her, them, with their escape route. Normally, he would feel nervous about such a thing, but this morning he felt only calm and peace. He decided to take the project on as he would any other work situation, as a request for information that he was very capable and highly qualified to provide.

And with that thought, his daily routine began. He rolled onto his side and swung his legs from the bed and onto the floor. The warm carpet welcomed his feet. As his weight shifted and he stood, the light in the sterile white room brightened. He stretched his arms over his head and bent at the waist. His back cracked as he stood straight again.

He felt the tug of curiosity as he made his way to the bathroom. His new project felt as though it was a game, a puzzle. Could he find the route that the boy with the bullet hole in his head used to get in and out of Newcity? Of course he could. He already knew the answer to that question.

The bigger mystery was whether he could find the route without being caught – by Carl or by the system. He ran through his morning routine preoccupied with trying to create a plan that would limit suspicion from Carl. He settled on reorganizing his day, by segmenting how he went through the reports. He'd upload only one type of report first, then all of another type. One set at a time. This way he could review all the security reports consecutively, which would allow him to concentrate on how they might be connected.

But he didn't have the map. He brushed his teeth thinking about how he'd remember the route if he couldn't recall the map; how would he follow the path through the maze of floors and sections? Especially if the boy came all the way from the far end of the building? The time it took him to traverse that distance alone would mean that the boy would have had to enter Newcity – Keith checked the time on his wrist terminal – from before his alarm had woken him that morning. Good for tracing the boy's steps, at least.

Keith had an egg and cheese sandwich for breakfast and flipped on the television. The news seldom interested him because nothing really went on unless you wanted to know what sales were happening or what groups had started up that you could join. He did want to see whether the missing man had been found. He had missed much of the story the day before. He turned up the volume as the announcer began to speak of the man.

“…and according to Newcity central, Ronald was not so lost after all.” Another announcer took over the conversation. “No, Jane, he was merely walking the halls a little dazed.” Back to Jane. “It appears as though his chip had malfunctioned and sent a memory inhibitor spike into his brain, causing him to temporarily forget where he resided. All is back to normal now, and Ronald has been reassigned for the duration of his stay.”

Keith turned the set off. Reassignments were fairly normal, but what did they mean by “the duration of his stay?” He would have to ask Nellie about that. Perhaps she knew.

He stopped for a moment and thought about Nellie. She acted so different than anyone else he knew. She was unpredictable, aggressive one moment and shy the next. Her emotions, he knew, must swing so much further in every direction than his.

He rubbed his thumb over the space where the chip was located. Only a slight bump could be discerned. Installed at a very young age, the chip did nothing more than monitor and adjust his emotions to eliminate violent outbursts. They could be over-ridden through extreme chemical shifts, better explained as imbalances, but were not meant to change any personality traits in doing so. Such was the official version drummed into everyone who wore the chip.

How could that be? He never examined the idea before, but how could a person's personality remain within the limits of what was acceptable by Newcity laws and still not be changed or altered? The two were mutually exclusive. Yet, he couldn't put his finger on why that was true. In a moment, he lost concentration and shifted his thoughts to a more pressing issue: getting to work.

He double-checked his clothes by straightening his collar and tucking his shirt into his pants. He dropped the remains of his breakfast into the waste receptacle and the cup from his morning coffee into the cleaning receptacle. Ready for work, he opened the door and entered the halls filled with residents either going to work or returning from work.

For the third day in a row, Keith saw police in the halls. On this day they wandered slowly, as though ready for something to happen. Looking around, he noticed the area fill with more people as they left their apartments to enter the fray. Many of the people were of a similar age, which made him wonder if there could have been a run of bad chips, all implanted during the same few days, and now they were failing one by one. But that wasn't the issue for him. His greatest concern was whether or not the system could control images in his brain. Could the boy be a system image?