The Tower (21 page)

“Our mutual friend knows too much.”

Another voice, harsh and commanding was heard; Avenger's. “I've been checking up on him. What could he know?” Had they been talking about me? If not, who then?

BG's deep voice cut in, “He isn't smart enough to figure it out.”

“Don't sell Bill short, he might be.” That came from Deanna.

“He only thinks he is,” the Guardsman's voice came back. “He's too clued out.”

Thanks a lot, BG, guess he was still pissed off about the uniform remark. Yeah, they'd been talking about me, alright. “…contacted Nora Nixon at the paper about three weeks ago,” he was saying.

They'd been spying on me, too? What for
?

PowerGuy: “She doesn't remember anything. What could she tell him? What could
anyone
say?”

“I still say he should be mind-blocked.” That came from Miracle Mistress again. “He'll compromise everything that we've been working for.”

“No, he won't,” Avenger answered. “Besides, Mr. Wonderful already tried it, it didn't take, not entirely. I'm still trying to find out why.”

That sent a shiver down my spine, slowly replaced by anger. I didn't even know they could do something like that! Hold on a sec—advanced technology, space travel, inter-dimensional portals—sure they could. Seemed no technological miracle was beyond them, but why?

“What are we going to do with him?” BG wanted to know.

Avenger: “For the moment, nothing. Business will continue as usual. His condition won't allow him to do too much if it worsens. And there's no one he can tell; who's going to listen?”

“Will he die?” That came from Deanna, and I sensed real concern in her voice, although wasn't she the one who said mind-block me? Avenger's answer was that my signatures were still wavering, and he'd keep checking. A sound came like they were preparing to leave, so I made a hasty exit and took the lift up to the fourth level.

Getting out of the elevator, I suddenly felt sick, leaned against the wall for support. Not feverish, but sick at heart and what in the hell was going on? They'd betrayed me, betrayed my trust in them.

Then,
oh my God
…no! I finally realized the scope of their plans and actually put my hands to my head as if trying to somehow pull those thoughts out. I'd known about the hypnosis before, I'd figured it out after meeting Nora Nixon and they'd done something to my mind to make me forget. They
must
have done something, but now it came warping back into my head at light-speed. They hadn't just tried to mind-wipe me…they'd succeeded in mind-wiping the whole planet! This was the greatest mind-screw ever, and I should have realized it much earlier but I'd been too stupid, young, enthralled, or all three to realize what they were doing. No wonder no one on Earth asked any questions or knew about what was going on. How could they remember if their slates were always being wiped clean?

All this time I'd been working with these people I called heroes, learning from them, talking and being friendly with them, and they'd been
using
me and everyone else on Earth as some kind of lab-rats. Yeah, that was it, we were the experiment.

Once more the question of why came back to taunt me. Was it just for the fun of it? If they really were what I thought they were, then why the pseudo-friendly approach? Why not just take over and rule with the iron fist, show their absolute power? I hadn't been aware of the big picture before; now, it was live and in Technicolor.

“Hey, you!” I whirled around. Oriana was standing there, a smile on her face. She then looked around quickly and kissed me hard. I returned it, but my mind was still whirling at the betrayal I'd experienced and Oriana was a part of it. Wasn't she? Could I trust her? I loved her, but could I put my faith in her after what'd been done to me?

She sensed my discomfiture and said, “You're not feeling well, are you?”

“Uh, no, I'm not.”

“Let's go back to your room.”

Inside, she told me to lie down. “Rest now, I'm going out soon on patrol. We'll talk when I get back, 'kay?” A hug, another kiss and I was alone.

Inside my room, I tried to relax but my mind kept coming back to their ultimate plan. They were dictators, fascists. They had to be and yet they hadn't put anyone in jail except criminals, politics was the usual mess, and life on the planet seemed to be normal, except for the memory blocks. I didn't know what to make of all this, except that I felt more like a convict than ever. My cabin in the sky had become a celestial prison.

I was too upset to stay in my room. Went out and up to the Bridge, saw Mr. W issuing orders as always. Wondered what he was really thinking. He saw me, gave me a small smile and a wave. I waved back, but it took a lot of effort. I then made my way to the Recreation Room and saw everyone playing cards and talking. They didn't know they'd been mind-wiped. They were happy this way—could I tell them, should I?

I couldn't. They wouldn't believe me as the mind-wipe process wouldn't allow them to know the truth. And what
was
the truth? Perhaps these guys were all the super villains masquerading as them? With all the technology around it wasn't impossible that they could somehow switch costumes and pretend, right? It had to be that.

Or maybe…maybe this was what the Association was really like. I'd read stories where shadow cabinets or powerful individuals in the government were the
real
government and controlled everyone. Maybe this was how this universe operated: The Association called the shots and who could stop them? No country on Earth and certainly no other group of super heroes, the planet was theirs for the taking and no government would dare say “boo” to them. There were plenty of questions but still no answers.

Then, a thought occurred to me: If these people were fascists, why would they bother helping? Why not just take over, enslave everyone? Perhaps, perhaps this really
was
their way, a more peaceful method of controlling the world's populace. No need for violence, just thought-waves of hypnosis. “Believe in us, let us take care of you; do as we say and all will be well,” they'd implant in everyone's brains. That had to be their plan. They wanted a planet of peaceful sheeple.

I wanted to tell everyone, shout it out at the top of my lungs that they were being used, but I couldn't. I'd be branded a traitor, a nutcase and then I'd be locked up and put away indefinitely. I'd die a lonely, semi-psychotic death, all on this all-so-familiar-yet-alien world. All my efforts would be in vain. I had no proof, the journal was the only shred of evidence I had and now it had probably been torched or fed to Waste Disposal.

After all that time of thinking and questioning and trying to figure it all out, perhaps an hour or so had passed. I felt tired again, went back to my room. On the little night table was a box with a piece of paper inscribed. “A little something from Earth. Love, Ori.” Opening it, I saw that it was a wind-chime and I hung it on my closet door. The breeze from the air-conditioner made the bell sing out, a pleasant sound. While it should have relaxed me, I still remained too tense to take pleasure in anything.

Worst of all, I could confide in no one, tell no one, write to no one. Now, I felt what Knower had felt—totally isolated from humanity, scared and fearful for my future and my sanity.

* * *

Two days later. I'd stayed in my room, eaten very little, tried to sleep as much as possible and couldn't, spoken to no one. The only thing I did regularly was drink a lot of water in between bouts of self-pity.

Damn right I felt sorry for myself. Things had been going perfectly and now…this. However, while there wasn't much I could do about the sickness part, eventually I reasoned that just sitting here was an invitation for the illness to overcome me,
so get off your ass, Bill, and do something useful!
The only way to be useful if to no one else but myself was to work and decided that if they could keep up the façade, so could I. Screw early retirement.

Walked into the Commissary at five in the a.m., grabbed a spare chef's cap and smock and started cooking, talked to my co-workers as if nothing had happened.

“Bill, you okay?” John asked. “If you're up to working, we're here for you.”

“It's all good, John. Thanks for covering for me.”

It had been more than a week since I'd been there. Everyone kept sneaking looks at me, I returned the favor. Maybe they were expecting me to keel over or something—I was determined to prove them wrong.

There they were as they'd always been: Eating, talking about the day's work to be done and the fun to be had at night, just another workaday day. Wanted to say something but what could I say?

Deanna walked in, almost did a double-take when she saw me. “Bill, shouldn't you be lying down?” she asked me discreetly.

“I'll be fine,” and she told me she was worried, as was everyone else. And, as always, she complimented me on my cooking.
Thanks a lot for your concern, mind-wipe me after you've finished stuffing your face
?

Oriana came in a few minutes later, loaded up her trays as usual, and dazzled me with her smile. The other day had been forgotten. “You okay?” she asked me. Smile or no, the worry was obvious in her voice.

“I'll be fine,” I tried to assure her.

“Then I'll see you later.” She gave my hand a quick squeeze and that touch still made me flush a bright scarlet.

Ori didn't see my embarrassment. She smiled again and then crossed the line, as it were, and went to sit with the human tech-support staff. That caused a bit of a buzz among everyone; this was the first time anyone had ever done that in all the time I'd been here.

In fact, Deanna walked over to her and whispered something in her ear. Oriana replied, “I can sit where I damn well want to!” Deanna stalked out. That was also the first time I'd ever seen any kind of disagreement between the Ultras. While it was unusual, no one seemed to get all that bent, until Avenger strode in and ordered her outside. Reluctantly, she went. A few moments later, I heard her voice.

“No! I won't do it!” she said angrily.

“You're under orders, in case you've forgotten!”

“Haven't forgotten anything,” I heard her reply truculently. “Nothing in the law says I can't….”

“I say what's right to do and what isn't,” was his answer, and in another first-time-this-had-ever-happened-moment, this time he sounded really pissed. “On this ship you
will
do what I say or….”

He left the threat hanging. A few seconds later, Oriana walked back in, returned to the table and sat down as if nothing was wrong. “Sorry for the interruption,” she said briefly to the others. “Business,” and went back to eating. By this time, everyone in the room was staring at both her and Miracle Mistress. Deanna had re-entered the room and was on the Ultra side and she didn't look pleased at all. This wasn't a gossip topic anymore; it was more like a mutiny.

Once again, Deanna went over to her and Oriana gave her such a vicious look that MM stopped right in her tracks, and then backed off. Deanna looked around the Commissary; no one wanted to meet her gaze. She whipped her head around and fixed me with the dirtiest look as if I were the cause of it. What had I done? And didn't you like breakfast? She stomped out and bumped into BIG along the way. He just looked at me with a hurt puppy-like expression on his face, as if he were somehow at fault.

“I do somethin‘ wrong, Bill?” he asked. “Deanna's really mad, y'know?”

“It's cool, BIG,” I told him, and he just smiled and filled up his trays, went to sit with Repello and his wife. Sometimes I envied BIG's lack of awareness and in his case, it was better not to know. Oriana continued to talk to the other people at her table, occasionally giving me a glance and a friendly, if somewhat strained smile.

Knowing better than to talk to her now, I decided to wait until she cooled off. Later, later on was best, she'd be going planet-side and wouldn't be back until around eleven or so, so that gave me some time to think.

“What's going on, Bill?” asked Nick.

“I don't have a clue.” I was just as much in the dark as anyone. Oriana left a few minutes before my shift was up and after work was over and everything cleared away, I hurried back to my room. Opening the door, I started to turn on the light; a hand came out of the darkness onto my shoulder and stopped me.

“It's me, Ori,” she said, voice quavering slightly.

“What's going on?” I wondered how she got in without a disc. Oh, yeah, the Override command. It didn't matter, she was upset and it was time we had it out.

“Don't say anything, come with me,” she said, pulling me over to the bed. We sat down and in the dim light of the porthole I could see she'd been crying.

“I thought you were going out on a mission,” I started. “Isn't it your turn to…”

“Screw the mission!” she cut me off, searching for the words. “I've…I've been ordered not to see you…ever again,” she managed to get out.

Oh, hell
. “Avenger…?”

“Ordered me not to see you,” she continued.

“Was it because of this morning, you went to sit with the tech staff…?

“No, it's more than that,” she answered. Turning to look at me, I could see that her face was wet. I took a tissue, dried her tears and then kissed her. Then depression hit on top of my illness. I'd heard that bad luck happened in threes; what was the third shock going to be?

“What're we gonna do?” I asked. And what was I going to do? Betrayal or not, I still couldn't make myself believe that she'd been part of it.

She looked at me and took my hands in hers. “I still want to see you, each day and every day.” There was firm commitment in her voice. Putting her arms around me, she held me tightly, almost crushing me in her embrace. I held her as well, but it was sort of difficult when you couldn't breathe….