“No, I certainly do not. I’ve seen it done once, when I was in the introductory Defensive Medical program. Lucky for me, I didn’t have the stomach for it so they assigned me to Biomedical Connectivity Repair. Much less screaming and fewer broken bones involved.” The doctor moved around as he spoke and began picking up a few small items, placing them on a hover tray that followed close behind him.
“What is Biomumical Connductor Repair?” 62 followed the doctor with his eyes and paid close attention to each tool on the tray.
“Biomedical Connectivity Repair,” 71 corrected. “When you are animated, a sensor is deposited into the lining of your stomach. Then, a tiny microchip is implanted under the skin in your neck to record and transmit your vital biological data to the sensors in your cube. Whenever there is a break in that communication, either because of damage or malfunction, the affected are brought here to have the break repaired.”
The doctor added in, “Although admittedly, I don’t see many patients. The ingestible event markers and radio frequency identification chips are practically indestructible. It leaves me with a lot of time on my hands.”
71 chuckled, as the doctor winked at him. His tray full, the doctor pulled a hover chair over to the bed and sat down. The tray, now holding several small devices, came to a rest at the head of the bed.
“So, who are you?” 62 asked while he leered at the items on the tray. There was a small box that looked like a scanner, a small shiny tool with a very sharp tip, a band of twisted wire with two small panes of glass inserted into it, and a container with dozens of tiny black Machines that almost resembled the Tapinoma Sessile from 62’s dreams.
“Oh, silly me. Always missing introductions. I am 2442, and I bid thee welcome to my lab.” The doctor lowered his chin to his chest and extended his right arm out toward 62.
“The doctor with a flair for the dramatic.” 71 rolled his eyes.
“True, true.” 42 agreed and then winked. “But I’m also the doctor with the cure for what ails you.”
42 picked up the wire with glass and put the contraption on his face. The ends of the wire wrapped around his ears and the two glass panes rested perfectly in front of 42’s eyes. When the doctor noticed 62’s curious stare he said, “Optical magnification glasses. They help me to see things that are very small.”
The Man peered over the lenses to look at the tray, then picked up the scanner and turned it on. It beeped and chirped in response. The doctor put the scanner against 62’s neck. He waved it slowly back and forth over the back of the neck, hovering just above the skin. The box chirped again.
“Ah, there you are.” 42 grinned. He reached toward the tray and picked up the thin steel instrument. “This will hurt a bit, but try not to flinch.”
A sharp pain pricked the back of 62’s neck as the doctor cut into his flesh. He couldn’t help but to pull away from the sharp knife. “Ow! That hurts! What are you doing?”
“Stay still please,” 42 commanded. “I am removing the chip under your skin. This will only take a moment.” The doctor pressed the knife in again, moved it slightly and then pulled it away from 62’s neck. “Got it. Now, for your replacement.”
42 picked up one of the tiny black devices from the tray and put it into a tube attached to a long needle. “This will also sting a bit.”
62 couldn’t see the needle press into the flesh of his neck, but he certainly could feel the tip break through. “Ouch!”
“There, all done.” 42 placed his tools back on the tray and put something wet over the cut and puncture point on the back of 62's neck. “This is some antiseptic to keep your injuries from being infected. It will also seal that cut up for you. With any luck it will heal and stay unnoticed by the Nurses.”
“So he will now be undetected?” 71 leaned behind the bed to get a better look at 62’s new injuries.
“Yes. The subdermal implant will now be transmitting benign data from one of the most average and uneventful Men to ever have walked the halls of Adaline. No matter how excited or upset our little friend gets, his vitals will always report as normal. There will never again be any report received by the Community of an elevated heart rate or imbalance of hormones.”
71 lifted his eyebrows with curiosity. “Whose data will they be reading, exactly?”
42 chuckled, “Why the good doctor on Level 2, of course.”
CHAPTER 29
62 ENTERED THE POD, escorted by a single Transportation Aid. His reemergence into C.A.T. was much less dramatic than his exit had been. All of the other Boys were already tucked away and asleep in their cubes. Their unified breathing and the rare rustle of blankets on steel was all that could be heard in the pod.
The door to 62’s cube slid open and the Transportation Aid waited for him to get in and pull out his blanket before it locked the door behind him. 62 was so tired that he didn’t bother to check his chute for dinner. The moment he was comfortable, sleep came to him and consumed him in the darkness.
“Welcome back,” 71’s voice echoed from somewhere inside 62’s mind. “It’s good to see you again.”
A tiny light shone in the distance, and 62 floated toward it. His dream was dark aside from the pinhole light but he wasn’t afraid. His limbs all drifted easily through the dark and he enjoyed the relaxing sensation of flying.
“Where are you?” 62 tried to reach the light, but it seemed to never get any closer. “What is this place?”
“I’m in my own dream. What do you see in yours?” 71’s voice was whispery and small as if he were speaking through a crack in a wall.
“Just darkness with a little light. I think it’s moving.” 62 stopped trying to reach the tiny glow. Once he stopped moving, it seemed to float back toward him.
“The light is the connection between us. I’ve spent some time the last few cycles working on ways to teach you to block your consciousness from outside viewing.”
The glowing light was almost within 62’s reach now, and he extended his hand to try and grasp it. When his fingers touched the warm smoldering connection it zipped backward out of his reach and hung in the air over him.
“Why can’t I see anything?” 62 spoke toward the light.
“Most of the structure of the dreams we've shared has been constructed by my consciousness. Even when you were dreaming on your own, our connection fed your dreams. Now that I’m blocking my consciousness from yours, it will be up to you to reconstruct your landscapes using your own creativity.”
The glowing light started to burn intensely and changed color from white to blue. A small red flame emerged from the blue light and it sparked and crackled against the dark backdrop. The ball of fire grew until it was the size of a tablet, then the size of a hover table and finally the size of a Man. A hand emerged from the center of the flame.
62 drifted back in the darkness, startled by the wriggling hand grasping at the air in his dream. A long cable dropped down from somewhere high above the flame and the hand grabbed hold. It tugged the line, causing it to go rigid. A second hand appeared and grasped the cable above the first. 62 watched as the pair of hands struggled on the cable. A moment later an entire body emerged from the flames and the light burnt out, leaving 62 completely immersed in the dark.
“I really hate going through all this. It’s so much easier to share dreams with someone whose consciousness is open.” 71 spoke as if he was directly in front of 62. “Oh, my. It really is dark in here, isn’t it?”
“There was a light, but it just burnt out.” 62 reached his hands out ahead of him and felt the edge of 71’s tunic.
“Well whose fault is that?” The teacher’s hand grasped 62’s. “I can’t share my dream ability with you now; it’s all up to you. Go ahead, put something out there, will you?”
62 closed his eyes and tried to imagine what it would look like if they were standing in the wide open spaces of previous dreams. He opened his eyes and found that he and 71 were standing on a small patch of terra a couple of meters wide. Out in the
distance groups of blue, green and brown were splattered across the landscape. Enough light shone out from the blue patches to illuminate the Boy and his Teacher. 62 looked up at 71 and shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, decent enough for now. I won’t be here long so it will do.” 71 sat down on the brown patch and crossed his legs beneath him. He looked up into 62’s face and smiled.
62 copied his teacher and the two sat in silence for a moment. All of the patches in color shifted, growing and shrinking in turn as 62 tried to keep their images stable in his dream while thinking back on the events of the past few cycles. Flashes of the doctor’s laboratories, long passageways and elevator doors passed over a few of the patches nearby.
“It is a lot to take in.” 71 said quietly. He wrapped his arm over 62’s shoulders. “You’ve done very well with all of the challenges that have come your way. I am very proud of all that you have accomplished.”
62 shrugged and the images vanished from the pools of blue light. “So what now? If you closed my dreams off, does that mean I can’t see yours any more?”
“For the moment, yes. In time you will be stronger, and we will be able to reopen the connection between us. But first I need to teach you how to protect your consciousness from viewing. It’s going to take some practice but I know you are strong enough to do it.”
62 nodded although he didn’t quite understand. “So no one can see my dreams now either?”
“No one. Not even me, unless you allow me to. If someone tries, there will be a small light just like the one that I came through. When you see a light, if you don’t recognize the voice speaking to you all you have to do is wake yourself up and they won’t be able to come through.”
“What if I can’t wake up?”
“If you ever feel like you can’t wake up, then there is a real problem. Hold your breath until you can feel your lungs burning. Eventually, the oxygen deprivation will cause your brain to force your body awake so that you can breathe again. It’s a natural response to prevent suffocation during sleep.”
62 held his breath until his lungs began to burn and all of the images around them began to fade. Before they faded completely, he exhaled and resumed his breathing and the images became bright and vivid again. He looked up at 71. “How do you know all of this stuff?”
71 grinned, “When I was a Boy, I paid very close attention to my studies.”
CHAPTER 30
ALL EYES WERE ON 62 as he entered the classroom and sat down at his desk. He tried not to notice but his skin burned and his heart pounded from the attention. He forced his gaze up from the floor and focused on 99. 62 lifted his lips in an attempt at a smile and shrugged his shoulders.
“Where were you the last few cycles?” One of the Boys seated near the door shouted over the din of whispers that filled the class.
62 looked in the direction of the questioning voice but didn’t look at any one Boy in particular. Instead he looked at the wall above their heads, too uncomfortable to look his brothers in the face.
“I had to go someplace.” 62 wasn’t sure how to answer the question. Even he wasn’t quite sure where he’d been, or how he’d explain what had happened to him. There was certainly no good way to describe the elevator or the other floors in Adaline.
“I heard you got the fog,” someone seated to 62’s right piped in.
62 looked down at the empty floor in the middle of the classroom and shook his head. “Nope, no fog.”
“Were you bad?” 99’s question was the first that was filled with audible concern.
“I don’t think so. No, I wasn’t bad. I didn’t get in trouble or anything. I just had to go away for a while.”
“Are you unwell?” When a Boy to his left asked the question, everyone instinctively scooted a few inches away from 62.
“No. Well, I don’t think so.” 62 looked up at the sound of the door.
71 strolled in; a smile on his face and a spring in his step. 62 again felt rescued by his teacher’s entrance. The uncomfortable squirming in his stomach lessened when most of the other Boys in the room turned their attention to the Man.
71 busied himself at his desk for a moment then casually looked around the classroom. When he saw 62 seated in his usual spot, the teacher gasped loudly.
“Well, well. Who do we have here?” The teacher waved his arms too much and his voice took on a strange pitch as he made a poor attempt at acting surprised. “Brother 62, back from his adventures! Welcome back, young student. We have missed you these few cycles and are so pleased to be blessed with your acquaintance once more.”
“Uh, glad to be back. I guess.” 62’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
“Our young brother here,” 71’s arms made a great arc in the air before finally pointing at 62, “was chosen for some special training over the past few cycles. Unfortunately, he is not at liberty to share many details with the class so please don’t pester him with too many questions.” 71’s strained voice cracked as he spoke and his feet fidgeted across the floor as he tried to appear... well, no one could figure out how 71 was trying to appear.
Suspicious eyebrows lifted across the room. All of the Boys began looking back and forth between the awkward teacher and the deflated student. While 71 was exuberantly putting on a show, 62 was doing his best to curl up into a tiny little ball and disappear.
Several hands rose throughout the group. 71 shuffled several awkward steps toward the center of the room, his hips swaying and knees locking in an odd march that looked completely unnatural. He bent suddenly at the waist and pointed at a Boy whose hand was raised. “Yes? Your question please.”
“Why are you talking like that?”
71 straightened until he was as straight and rigid as a steel wall. He pushed his shoulders out wide, placed his hands on his hips and thrust his pelvis forward. His head snapped to the left so that he gazed over his shoulder and in a booming voice he replied, “Talking like what, exactly?”
“Like that.” Confusion filled the Boy’s voice.
“Yeah. And why are you moving around like that?” Another Boy from across the room chimed in. “Are you unwell?”
71 dragged his feet in a circle as he turned around. His hands fanned out and his fingers wiggled wildly at his sides. “Whatever do you mean? This is how I always talk and move. It’s completely natural.”
62 slouched farther in his chair. Although now all eyes were on the teacher, for some reason he felt even more embarrassed than before. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the desk, hoping 71’s antics would end.
“Uh, actually,” 99 snickered, “you kind of look like a Nurse who’s had one too many turns at the charging station.”
The entire class broke out in giggles. 71’s eyes widened and he approached 62’s desk in a gait that exaggerated his already flamboyant body movements.
“Why, I do declare that I don’t know whatsoever you might mean.” 71 bent again and touched 62’s desk with the edge of his fingertips. “62 has just returned from parts unknown, and I am pleased to meet his acquaintance once again.”
Everyone looked at 62.
“You’re like this because of him?” 99 pointed at 62 with accusation. “Yup, I was right. He’s unwell. Must be a virus that can be shared, too. Look at what it did to the teacher.”
73 nodded. “We should do something about it. I don’t want to end up like that.”
“Let’s call a Nurse or something. Get these two virus holders out of here.” 85 got up from his desk and started toward the panel on the wall beside the door.
The teacher snapped out of his dramatic act. “You will do no such thing. Sit down! No one here has a virus. Holy dustblowers! What is wrong with you Boys?” He shook his head and moved back toward the front of the room in his normal gait with arms tucked naturally beneath his beard.
“So, you’re okay?”
As 12 posed the question each of the students in the front of the classroom pushed their desks away from the teacher's desk.
“And he's okay too?” 56 pointed at 62.
“Yes, yes. He’s average as well. Just back from doing whatever he was doing.” 71 waved his hand in 62’s general direction with annoyance. “Let’s forget about welcoming him back into the group and just move on with today’s lesson. This diagram shows the neural pathways that augment the scope of vision in Nurses and other Machines like them. As you can see, the visual input connections are located in quadrant A...”
62 shrunk down beneath his desk and stared at his feet while the rest of the Boys stared at the projected lesson in confusion. No one followed what was taught that day. Instead, the group of Boys just looked around in puzzlement until the tones rang.
CHAPTER 31
THE AWKWARDNESS OF 62’s return to class faded into the normal repetition of C.A.T. The only brother who still seemed to have any concern was 99, who arrived in the Dressing Hall every morning ready to see how 62 was doing, and to assault him with questions about where he had been.
“Hello. Sleep well?” 99 examined 62’s face with intense scrutiny.
“Fine, again. How are you?” 62 rolled his eyes and tried to flatten the knots in his hair from his rough night of sleep.
“Oh, you know. The usual.” 99 sniffed 62’s tunic and scrunched his nose at some imagined smell.
“Stop doing that!” 62 stepped as far ahead of 99 in the line as he could, doing his best to not bump into the Boy in front of him. 99 simply followed along.
“Doing what?” 99 bent down to look at 62’s hands.
62 pulled his hands up into the sleeves of his tunic and tucked them under his armpits. “Stop doing... whatever you’re doing. I’ve told you a thousand times. I’m fine. Nothing happened. Like the teacher said I just went to some training thing and now I’m back.”
The Adaline Series Bundle 1 Page 13