The Doorkeeper's Mind

by E. L. Morrow

  April asks, “Is it safe to move now?”

  “Yes.”

  Doing an imitation of a 2-year-old having a temper-tantrum by stamping her feet, moving her arms up and down while whining, Marie alias April says, “I want my SOG.”

  The man makes his way out of the underbrush toward the path saying, “If you’re related to me—you can do something weird. What is it?”

  Marie responds, “I can see colors others do not see. Also, I can interpret other people’s thoughts.”

  “What am I thinking?”

  “You hope we are not related, because you would like to have sex with me.”

  “Okay, … you just put it right out there, don’t you? I like that.”

  She says, “Your turn. What do you do that’s out of the ordinary?”

  “Well, I can understand animals and their thoughts. Also, I do something called ‘distance seeing.’ Did you come here in a car? Or maybe two?”

  “Yes.”

  “We better go. The crazies are trying to break into your cars.”

  Nate catches up to them and starts down the path leading to the parking area. His rifle is holstered over his back, and he holds a “snake stick” four feet long with a curved metal hook on the end. With it, he picks up or pushes aside the snakes as they walk. He says, “They come up to the path to sun themselves. Even in August the nights can be cold, particularly in the rocks, so they need the heat.”

  Nearing the parking area, they observe six people wearing ragged clothing, some without shoes, some without shirts, all attacking the cars. The vehicles keep issuing warnings about serious injury. Two of the attackers throw themselves against the cars, being repelled by shocks, laughing or growling, then coming back for more. Others are throwing objects: rocks, weeds, or limbs. An old tire is being thrown at the trunk of first one then the other conveyance.

  Nathaniel shouts, “Hey!” The group scatters.

  Allison asks, “Who are these people?”

  “You remember back in ‘52 when they had all those nuclear power plants fail? Well, the government made the companies ‘care for’ those who were affected by the radiation sickness. They had this big center in Texas. Well, all the ones who were not making significant progress were moved to an out of the way site eight miles from here.

  “Well in ’61 when the corporations all imploded, the responsibility for continuing care was transferred to the state mental health agency. Like everything else in Non-Plan states, the agency is underfunded. The 600 or so people were given the opportunity to leave, stay, or move about as they please.

  “About 50 in the area show up asking for handouts. Some accost people for money. They have limited verbal skills, all kinds of health issues. The local clinic treats some of them, an abandoned farm a couple of miles from here attracts most of this group.

  “Some of the local churches and clubs raise money to feed and clothe them in the winter. I bring down some blankets and sleeping bags in the fall. We do what we can. Their minds are blown. Most of them don’t live much past 30.”

  Marie asks, “Why isn’t this in our news?”

  Danzella says, “Same reason we don’t learn much of anything about Unstructured States. Our news isolates us from the horrors of the world. And Unstructured State leaders want to ignore the problems.”

  “Well, that must change.”

  “Agreed, but how?”

  “One way is to join the structured economy,” says Nate.

  “Changing the subject. These vehicles need to be moved. They will come back and bring reinforcements.”

  Nathaniel rides with Allison and Marie, and Danzella follows. They leave the parking area, returning to the main road. After some twists and turns, Nate directs them to turn on what appears to be a walking path. In reality, it is an entrance to his secured property. After driving straight at a tree, which flattens into the ground, they are on a macadam paved drive, which leads to a parking garage under his house.

  After some preliminaries, Nate shows them around. He breeds Dalmatians, Irish Setters, German Shepherds, and Corgis. All are bred and evaluated for service/therapy or rescue animals.

  In the process of showing the animals areas, a door opens and three Corgis dash out, the mother and two 11-month-old male offspring. Springtime, the mother, is introduced. One of the unnamed males makes a beeline for Marie, jumping in her lap and licking her face. “Her first litter was three: two males and a female. A child therapist who works with abused kids took the female. But these guys turned down two placements. They were waiting for you.”

  The second male, less rambunctious, nevertheless walks directly to Allison and sits at her feet.

  Marie says, “You’re adorable, but I can’t care for a pet. I travel too much.” At those words the dog in her lap flopped down with a sigh, doing a reasonable imitation of letting the air out of a balloon.

  “Did he understand me?”

  “Perhaps,” says Nate, “but he understands me, and I heard what you said. For what it’s worth, this breed loves to travel. Besides, he will eat anyone who tries to hurt you.”

  Marie laughed, “He looks like a lover, not a fighter.”

  “Let me try this.” Nate stands and says, “I’m going to hit her.”

  The dog on Marie’s lap spins around, bares his teeth and growls at Nate.

  He says, “I wouldn’t hurt her.”

  The dog settles down and begins making a chuckling sound.

  “Is he laughing?”

  “Yes. I made a joke. They will play jokes on you as well. The bond is complete. He’s yours.”

  “Alright. I’ll think about it … very hard.”

  Allison says, “Remember a couple of months back, you were talking about getting a pet.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of a goldfish.”

  “You remember how much you loved Margaret, our cat.”

  “And my sadness when she died.”

  “You can assuage that grief by adopting this dog.”

  “What’s his name?”

  Nate says, “I don’t know. Neither of these guys liked any name I suggested, so you must name them.”

  Now it was Allison’s turn to protest. “No, I live in a lab with dangerous pathogens and sterile equipment. No animals are allowed for any of the staff. I couldn’t possibly ….”

  “Now Mother! What’s good for the goose and all that stuff. Besides, you’re in charge … claim a little personal privilege.”

  Nate adds, “They are brothers. They have never accepted anyone before, and for each of them to pick one of you is a clear sign.”

  Both women agree to consider how to include one of these four-legged friends into their individual lives.

  Nate nods his head; both dogs settle at the feet of their respective new owners. Even though the women are not ready to admit it yet, everyone knows when they leave the puppies will be going with them.

  Forty-Four

  Past and Present Make a Future

  Somewhere in Arkansas

  2095-08-09, Sunday, 7:30 pm

  After supper, they discuss who everyone is. Allison begins by describing the Human Maturation Project. Its goals are to develop intelligent, aware and compassionate individuals. After a brief outline of her and Jamison’s work with HMP, she says, “Marie is the third child of one of the mothers I nurtured and observed. We believe you may be the first child—therefore her half-brother. What can you tell us about your childhood?”

  “I thought I was somehow different but I did not understand how or why. My father took the lead in telling me about my connection to some secret project.

  “When I was two, a man came to see me. Father expected him. Mother was anxious about his coming. The man called himself Bob, but I never thought that was his real name. I don’t know why, but he never seemed like a Bob to me.

  “We walked to the park nearby where we lived. He asked what I liked to do and how I spent my
time. As I played he asked me about my folks—which one I liked best, and anything I had noticed about how they treated me. He asked about friends; if kids made fun of me or made me angry. Also, did I think I was smarter than them?

  “For several years, Bob came back around my birthday. For a few years, a woman came instead. Oh, I forgot, both of them played concentration games with me.”

  “What kind of games?”

  “The games would be different each year. They became more complicated as time passed. For example, once when I was two or three, Bob laid out 64 cards. Most cards had pictures of toys; some blank; different colors; different sizes; upside down, some broken—things like that. Then all the cards were turned over, and I was asked to do different things with the cards. Like find all the toy trucks, but not the firetrucks. Or they’d ask for five red pictures; or eleven that are upside down; or tell what toy is to the right of each blank card; or everything that doesn’t have a wheel. Things like that.

  “In later years they took away cards and replaced them with different cards. Or moved a whole row or column of cards to a different place.”

  “All without turning the cards over?”

  “Of course.”

  “How did you do?”

  “It was fun. I don’t remember missing any. I think I would remember if I did.”

  “Your folks moved a lot?”

  “After I was six, we moved, and even changed our names a couple of times. I was sure it had something to do with me. After we moved, I could never keep in touch with any of the kids from before. I didn’t have many friends. Mostly acquaintances.”

  Marie says, “The exact words I use to describe my school classmates.”

  Allison asks, “When was the last time you saw Bob or the woman, what was her name?”

  “I think she said Helen. Usually, she said, Bob couldn’t make it this year so she took his place. Bob came a few days after my mother’s death. I think he came to the house after the service. We walked around the block and talked. Primarily he wanted to hear how I was handling my grief. Bob was sick. I knew he would never be back. It depressed me—I was losing two people who cared for me, at the same time.

  “The last time I talked to my dad was similar. He told me I had to be careful because someone would find me and either try to kill me, force me to do awful things, or become my friend. He said the third kind would be somewhat like me.”

  “Your father understood your special skills?”

  “Some of them. He didn’t believe I can communicate with dogs.”

  After another hour everyone, including Nate, is convinced of his connection with the project called HMP. Marie concludes I’ve found my brother. Now I need to tell him what I know about Berry, our biological mother.

  The next two days, August 10th and 11th, are spent in frequent lengthy conversations. Nate believed he had no siblings, or if they existed no way to find them. When he excuses himself to provide care for his animals (dogs, chickens, and two goats), Marie and Allison do some of their work—all by PCD through secure satellite signals.

  Danzella is absent for most of the conversations, but continues to confirm the security for the area, and monitors all communicator contacts. Because Nathaniel Trenton is “off the grid,” any communication from his location creates a potential for tracing. Nate owns no communication equipment, not even an old-style phone, like a few of his neighbors. His home uses a solar collection cell to power his lights, heat, cooling, cooking, and refrigeration equipment. To protect his anonymity, his visitors keep their SOGs, computers, and PCDs in scan proof bags. Friend, Marie’s Automated Personal Assistant, uses satellites to monitor the area for stray signals and attempts to locate the group.

  After the evening meal on Monday, Nathanial returns to the subject of the two Corgis. Allison and Marie look at each other and in unison say, “I will if she will.” Everyone laughs, including the dogs.

  Nate says, “Now comes the task of finding names.”

  He gives the women a list of three hundred most frequently chosen dog names, all of which have been rejected by the dogs.

  Marie says, “Thinking that I might adopt this helper, I contacted my friend at the Records and Inquiries service in Wichita. I asked if she could get a list of dog names going back a few years. She got back to me—well my Automated Personal Assistant—with the list going back a hundred years.”

  Pulling up the list from the communicator then adding in Nate’s list and eliminating the obviously female names they soon had a catalog of more than 200 pet names. Both dogs act bored until the reading reached terms beginning with “P.” When the name Phoenix is spoken, Marie’s dog jumps in her lap and begins licking her face.

  “Your name is Phoenix? That’s a mythical bird that rises from the ashes. Allison’s Institute is named for a mythical creature who sees the future. That doesn’t make sense.”

  Nate says, “Perhaps you both need a reminder to be optimistic—against all reason—that the future will be bright.”

  The reading continued. It wasn’t long until Allison’s dog chose the name “Prince.”

  On the evening of August 11th, Allison returns to a question that had been skipped over in the excitement of finding Marie’s brother. She asks, “Nate, when we first arrived, you asked about our being sent by your uncle. We have neglected to ask about any others you identify as relatives.”

  “My father has one living brother. Both of his parents died when I was about 12 years old. My grandfather, Morris, bought a piece of pristine land in the Northwest Territories. It totals 240 acres in the foothills of Mackenzie Mountains. Grandfather was convinced they would create a national park in this area, and he would make a fortune. The land is unique. When the ice melts, many varieties of wildflowers spring up. Also, a species of deep burrowing ground mole may only be found there.

  “Well, my uncle wants to sell or lease the land to an outfit that will put hunting lodges on it. Some larger animals come down off the mountains in search of food.

  “My Grandfather, father, and I want it to stay as a natural preserve. Grandfather wisely made his will so my dad, and now I, have the 60 percent controlling interest. I’m not selling or leasing. My uncle needs the money. I can’t buy him out, but I won’t let him destroy this beautiful land.”

  Marie says, “I have an idea. Tell me more about the land, and how something could be constructed on it, without destroying the specific ecological balance.”

  Nate brings out diagrams. They identify three areas that can accept buildings without upsetting the local balance of nature. Marie agrees to check the required space for the facility to upgrade Automated Personal Assistants for Doorkeepers, Security, Financial, and Research sectors.

  Marie says, “We want a remote location. It appears to me that we can use this site without spoiling it. Put the three buildings on stilts connecting everything by suspended tubes. Nothing coming or going will be larger than a suitcase; no toxic materials will be used; very little water is needed. Only one supervisor needs to be present, and a parking area can be available for personnel, pick-up, and delivery. I think it’s perfect.”

  “How can you do the construction without damaging the environment?”

  “Everything can be built off-site and droned in. Robots hanging from the stilt-legs cut into the soil and rock to fix the foundation. We’ll lose twelve to sixteen four-inch squares of the surface area.”

  “Do such robots exits?”

  “If not, we’ll make them. I own a robot factory.”

  They talk about WEEL, and how Marie came to be the CEO of this operation. “Phillip, whose genius created all this, set it up to make me the owner of the robot production and repair facility. That’s to prevent some future leaders of the Doorkeepers Guidance Team from allowing any military use of his creations. Only the robots possess the instructions for making the super-hard material we call Liquid Lava. And they only have part of the process at any given time. So he placed t
he ability to make the robots in one person’s control. Someone who will never allow a military application of the material. I’m 20 years old now so I need to update my will and decide who might live longer than me to continue his restrictions.”

  Allison asks, “But you do have someone named, don’t you?”

  “Of course. I named you. But the time will come when you may not be able to accept the responsibility. Since I’m marked for death, I had to be sure all my new assets are covered.”

  Nate is surprised by Marie’s references to being targeted for assassinations. They spend a couple of hours talking about Marie’s brushes with death and security measures taken.

  Nate says, “It may sound selfish, but I don’t want to lose my sister, now that she’s found me. By the way, you waited until our final hours together to mention that you are a hunted woman. How can you do that?”

  “I’m on vacation. I live with a constant awareness of a need for caution. Like my eye color, it is always there. Of course, the same would happen to you, if The General or his flunkies find out about your heritage.”

  As they prepare to leave, Nate provides the new pet owners with carriers, leashes, vehicle harnesses, treats, vaccination records, favorite chew toys, food bowls, and ownership documents. The women also receive Nate’s schedule: when he’s in town calling his clients or returning to deliver animals to them. Allison and Marie provide him with contact numbers, and he agrees to call Marie each time he is available.

  2095-08-15, Monday 2:00 pm CDT

  Today is the anniversary of Marie’s first day as a Doorkeeper. On that day she handled several emergencies. One involved a Public-In-City transport. She dealt with an emergency regarding a Personal Pleasure Service Worker and her client who drugged her and himself. The result was dangerous, potentially lethal, dosage and violent behavior.