by Linda Marr
I felt terrible lying to Kavan about not wanting to disturb my family. But I knew I had to, they’d want to wake up when I told them what was really happening, and then Jeff could find them. Kavan would understand why I did it, once he saw them agree.
But could I persuade them? It struck me that they wouldn’t be able to see me.
When I went to Kavan’s room that night, I asked him about that.
“As long as you’re with me, they will,” Kavan said. “So we have to be really careful. You have to stay out of sight.”
Actually, my intention was just the opposite.
I needed them to be rescued. And then when they got to the farmhouse, I’d be here. It wouldn’t be as hard for them as it was for me.
“So how do we do this together?” I asked Kavan, as he stretched out a comforter on the floor of his room.
“We go to sleep,” he said, lying down, and holding out his hand to me.
I took it, and eased myself next to him. My head rested against his. I could feel the warmth of his body against mine. The window shade was open and I could see the darkening sky outside. The haze of pollution had cleared, revealing a dreamy, cloudy moon. Its fragile light spilled across the floor and onto our faces.
Kavan’s eyes were already shut, but I couldn’t bring myself to close mine. What if I couldn’t go to sleep? All day I was agitated, and I wasn’t sure I could ever relax. Kavan looked like he was going to doze off any minute. What if he fell asleep and left me behind? He shifted next to me. For a moment I let myself just feel him, strong and warm beside me. It always felt so good holding his hand.
“Remember, you can’t let go…” Kavan’s voice was drowsy. “You have to hold on to me. At least until you can imagine where you want to dream walk by yourself. If you let go, your dreams might take you someplace else.” Then almost as if he was reading my mind “Trust yourself… you’re a dream walker…staying with me…it’s easy…”
I closed my eyes and immediately felt a soft fog roll over me. His breath was slow and steady and I automatically fell into his rhythm. In and out…in and out… The room was quiet except for the soft sounds of night birds outside in the farmhouse eaves. I felt strangely safe.
Everything was going to be all right. I was a dream walker and I was going to see my family. I was going to save them.
On that thought, Kavan’s quiet room began to dissolve around me. For a moment all I was aware of was blackness. Then suddenly, I was flying. I couldn’t see Kavan, but I could feel his hand holding mine. I gripped it tighter. I couldn’t even see myself, yet I was unconcerned. Elated even.
Then without warning, I was jerked through the blackness as hard as if someone had caught me with a huge hook, and heaved with all their might.
Abruptly, I could see again. Kavan and I were standing in the park behind my old house. I looked at him, amazed. He was dressed in a plain tee shirt and pressed jeans, his tangled blue hair was gone, here his hair was short, neat, and blonde. Once again, I was struck by how good looking he was. I wondered how much better I looked as well.
He grinned. “Welcome home, so to speak.”
I looked around, it surprised me, but it didn’t feel like home anymore.
We must have arrived near dinner-time because the park was empty and the sun had almost set. The dark was closing in with just the palest trace of a sunset. I wondered how my family would react when they saw how bright a real sunset looked.
It took all my willpower not to hurry Kavan as we walked down the street toward my house. Under the darkening sky, his grin was gone, his face was tense. I knew he was unsure that he was doing the right thing. But I knew that I was.
I felt increasingly confident as Kavan and I walked through the park, as familiar to me as my own face. My hand swept over the rough bark of each tree trunk I passed. I looked up at Kavan, his features chiseled in the moonlight. I remembered the excitement I felt when I’d see him suddenly appear in my donor life. And here we were. Any other time, it would be romantic. I glanced from Kavan, to the lake and the trees. Who would have known this was all a dream?
But my parents would know soon enough. I’d have to tell them before my brother, so they could be the ones to break the news to Troy as gently as possible.
I was still thinking about what I was going to do when Kavan and I reached my backyard and I saw my family. My heart beat a mile a minute. This was home. The sliding glass door to the patio was glowing with a square of golden light from the kitchen. I could see the silhouettes of my mom and dad preparing dinner inside. I eagerly pulled us closer, but Kavan yanked me back.
“What?” I could almost taste my family now.
“You can’t just go walking up. We’re connected! Remember? They’ll see you.”
Which was exactly what I wanted. But I needed to get closer, before I told Kavan my plan.
“Kavan, I can hardly see them from here. Just let me get closer.”
Kavan sighed. “Alright. Fine.”
Together we slipped across the dark yard until we reached the broad branches of an apple tree at the edge of the patio. I could see them much better now.
My mom, beautiful as ever, was behind the counter chopping vegetables. There was a lump in my throat. My stepdad, tall and handsome, moved towards us as he set the table. I felt like I was watching a scene from my own life, only I was missing. But not for much longer.
Again I started moving towards them, but once more Kavan held me back.
“You’re getting too close. What are you doing?”
He was amazingly strong. I took a breath. I had to tell him the truth.
“I’m going to let them know what’s really happening-”
“What?” Kavan’s eyes were wide. “You know you can’t.”
“They’ll want to wake up, Kavan, I’m sure of it.”
“No.”
He stepped close so he was right in my face. Kavan was angrier than I could have ever imagined him being. “Nobody’s ever done that. Don’t you understand? You could kill them.”
“How? They’ll be able to handle the shock.”
“Not all of their bodies can. But it’s not just that, the computer could also shut them down.”
I blinked. That couldn’t be true. “But it didn’t shut me down. I was always waking up.”
“But you didn’t know the truth.”
Kavan’s hand was a steel vise around mine, his fingers digging into my flesh.
They wouldn’t die of shock. And I wouldn’t let the computer kill them. If I could prepare them, and the rescue went quickly, I knew they could get through this. I had to take the chance.
I tried to pull away, but I couldn’t. “Let go. I just know it’ll be okay.”
Kavan’s mouth was pressed in a rigid line, but I could tell he was listening, so I went on. “I know them, they’d want to hear the truth, they’d want to fight to live. Really live.”
He was silent. I waited, afraid to even breathe.
“Kavan, please,” I pleaded softly.
Slowly he shook his head. “And how will you feel if you have to watch them die?”
That stopped me. The idea that I could cause my family’s death really scared me. But to know what I knew and let them keep living this lie - that seemed a bigger sin.
“I’ll know I tried to give them a chance at real life,” I told him. “They’re almost dead in that vat anyway, aren’t they?”
There was another long pause, and my mouth was dry as dust.
“Yeah,” he said finally, “it is like that.”
“Then please, let me try. I can’t abandon them. I’d never forgive myself.”
“But you can live with it, if they die?”
“I won’t let it happen.”
He looked at me for a long moment. “And you think you can stop it?”
I wanted to believe that I could.
Standing there, I realized this was the most important question anyone had ever asked me. And yet I didn’t really have
an answer.
“I don’t know. But I can’t let that matter.”
“Fine. Let’s go then.”
We stepped out from behind the tree. In the sky, the stars, unhampered by pollution, sparkled brightly. Like so much of this computer simulated world, they were perfect. But perfection wasn’t what was important. Really living, messy and confusing and even dangerous, that was what being a person was all about.
But as we walked carefully across the lawn, there was a part of me that was afraid. Afraid that Kavan was right and when their dream life was gone, they’d be gone with it. I pushed that terrible fear aside. I had to.
We stepped onto the patio, and now I could see my mom so close through the sliding glass door. I couldn’t wait to touch her. And then she moved from behind the kitchen counter and I stopped short. She was hugely pregnant.
I looked over at Kavan, “You didn’t tell me.”
Kavan quickly pulled me back across the lawn and behind the tree. “I didn’t know. I usually only see Troy.”
My eyes were riveted on my parents. Dad smiled at mom and they kissed tenderly, very unlike a couple grieving. How long had I been gone in their world? And now they were already having a baby? I couldn’t believe it. Was that their replacement for me? The computer’s replacement?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Now it wasn’t just my mother’s life in my hands, it was the life of her unborn baby, too. My parents looked so happy. The way I wanted them to feel. Except I wanted them to be happy and fully alive. I had to hold on to that idea. How much better would it be for them to give me a baby brother or sister who wasn’t a donor? Who never existed in a vat?
I turned to Kavan, “Imagine what it would be like to be born a real child in a real world. That baby can have that chance.”
Kavan frowned. “Elle. No. That baby doesn’t exist.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The computer simulation just makes your mom think she’s pregnant. They will use the same genetic components of your mom and dad to create a new little donor, but she’s not growing in your mom. She’s growing in a vat.”
I could hardly breathe. “So that was how I was born?”
“That’s how all donors are born.”
I tried to recover myself. “But when they’re safe, my mom and dad, they could have another child, right? And that one would be real.”
“Most adult donors can’t have kids. You and I have a chance, because we were rescued so young.”
I couldn’t get my mind around what he was saying. “I don’t understand.”
“The older you are, you know how it is with people who can’t walk. It’s the same with all the other parts of donor bodies.”
So if I told my parents the truth, and they survived hearing it, my mom would no longer have her child. Or any other child. I looked over again at my parents standing in the warmth of their cozy kitchen, my dad’s hand gently pressed against my mother’s belly. It was all an illusion, but they didn’t know that.
I had a decision to make, and I knew I had to make it quickly. I loved them; I wanted them to be happy. Would they be happier if I let them go on living this lie? Or if they survived the transition to a real life, without this child?
I turned to Kavan, but before I could say anything - everything was gone.
My mom and dad, my house, backyard, everything warm and beautiful and perfect vanished. Kavan and I were wrenched through blackness again, this time spinning at speeds that made me dizzy. What was happening?
I felt Kavan’s hand jerk away from me and then I was whirling on my own, terrified. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Then I slammed down on something hard.
I opened my eyes again. I was crumpled on the floor in Kavan’s room. Jeff was holding something foul smelling under my nose. Whatever it was must’ve called us back from our dream.
I was achy and sick; I looked around. Kavan was lying beside me, looking stunned. And leaning over us was Jeff, his face flushed with fury.
“Kavan, explain,” Jeff said in a tone that made it sound as if no explanation was possible.
Kavan didn’t meet Jeff’s gaze. “She’s a dream walker…” his voice trailed off.
Jeff arched an eyebrow and turned to me, “Why didn’t you tell us?”
I shrugged, trying not to panic, seeing the anger in his eyes. “We were just trying it out.” My head was pounding.
“And where were you trying it out?”
I considered lying. I knew in Jeff’s eyes what I’d done was wrong. But I wanted to save my family. And I had the ability to, because I could dream walk.
Unlike Kavan, I looked directly at Jeff. “I went to tell my mom and dad the truth.”
Jeff’s anger changed to shock, and for a fleeting moment – fear? In that instant, I felt afraid, too.
Then Jeff’s face was stone. “You’re too inexperienced to dream walk, let alone try anything dangerous like that.”
“I don’t understand. Why can’t they all be rescued?”
“You know that’s impossible,” Jeff said coldly.
“Why? No one would want to live a life that isn’t even real if they knew the truth!” I was shouting. “Just because they can’t figure it out on their own, doesn’t mean they wouldn’t want to be rescued.”
Jeff ignored me. “You knew this was wrong, Kavan.”
He nodded mutely, massaging his temples.
“You have a special talent and you abused it,” Jeff went on. “We had to call you back tonight. You put your life and Elle’s life in danger, as well as the donors.”
“I’m sorry,” Kavan said.
“You didn’t answer me,” I was still furious with Jeff. Just as furious as he was with me, I thought, but for a different reason.
But Jeff didn’t even look at me. He was still focused on Kavan. “And there were donors you were supposed to visit tonight. We trusted you, Kavan. You let us down.”
Kavan’s voice was so low I could barely hear it. “I said I’m sorry.”
“I would hope so. There’s nothing more to say tonight. Elle, go to your room and get to bed.”
“No,” I said. After all I’d been through I certainly wasn’t a child, to be sent to bed. “Why won’t you answer me? Why can’t they all be rescued. The computer couldn’t shut them all down.”
“Go. Both of you will be punished tomorrow.”
I didn’t care what punishment Jeff had in store for us. And I was angry that all Kavan could do was apologize.
I didn’t dare look at Kavan as I got to my feet.
***
I was seething as I climbed into bed. Didn’t I have a right to try to help my parents? The rescuers shouldn’t be waiting for signals from donor brain waves to go into action. There had to be a way around the computer. And the thing about the shock to the donors’ bodies – maybe they were all stronger than anyone realized. It made no sense to me.
But I was also afraid. Even though I’d dismissed Jeff’s threat of punishment, I wondered what it would be.
My birthday and Charles and Blair’s engagement seemed so far away. I’d felt so close to all of them then, just a few days ago. But, after seeing my parents, I couldn’t help thinking that the people at the farm house, no matter how well intentioned, were standing in the way of me trying to help my mom and dad and brother.
And then there was Kavan. I should’ve waited until I could do this on my own. He cared about me enough to go with me, and I took advantage of that. I cared for him, too. And I felt bad.
When I finally fell asleep my dreams were fragmented, moving in and out of different donor lives so quickly I didn’t know who I was with. But I would’ve known, I told myself, if I’d seen my own family.
When the dull grey light of morning came through my blinds, I woke up exhausted. The anger I felt was now only a sleep-deprived throb.
I tried to go down to breakfast, but I found my door was locked. Obviously at least part of my punishment was to remain in my
room. I wondered if Kavan was locked in his room, too.
My imprisonment only lasted a few hours. Then there was a curt knock, and when I went to the door, the knob turned. I was free, apparently still in time for breakfast.
But when I went downstairs, Charles, looking grim, was blocking the door to the dining room. It was hard to believe he was the same person I’d played soccer with, the same person I’d congratulated on his engagement by his cold, hard tone. “Not so fast, Elle. Jeff wants to see you first.”
He pointed to the locked door that I now knew led to the elevator.
“That’s off limits,” I said.
“Not this morning.”
With increasing dread, I opened the door, got in the elevator, and went down to the surveillance room.
I blinked at all the monitors. All those sleeping donors, none of them aware that they weren’t living real lives. Jeff had the knowledge to wake them all up. And he wouldn’t. Some of my anger returned.
Today I wasn’t alone in the room, there were several men from the farmhouse all studying the monitors. And Jeff was there, too. He stepped up next to me. “Elle. I need to give you an inoculation.”
He was holding a small tray with a syringe, and he was wearing plastic medical gloves. I knew exactly what it must be. The vaccination that kept people from talking about being donors. But I asked anyway.
“For what?”
“We usually only use this when a rescue is released into society. But because you can dream walk, and you’ve proven we can’t trust you, I need to make an exception.”
My stomach clenched.
He took my arm, and swabbed an alcohol drenched cotton ball over it.
“It’s for your own safety. And ours. It blocks a neural pathway in your brain. You’ll never be able to use the word donor, or expose the farmhouse.”
“You can’t control what I think,” my voice shook with fury.
“You can think whatever you want. The shot doesn’t change that. But you won’t be able to say anything out loud.”
“That’s impossible,” I said, but my dread was growing. Living a life in a vat of liquid seemed impossible, too.