Infinity

by Stan C. Smith

  Poppy led Infinity to an exam table and asked her to lie down.

  “I’ll sit up, if you don’t mind. I’m not hurt.”

  Poppy wiped Infinity’s face with a towel and held it up for her to see. The towel was covered in blood. “You’re not hurt?”

  Infinity had forgotten that she’d been kicked in the face while struggling in the submerged cage. She felt her nose. “It hurts, but it’s not broken.”

  Poppy continued wiping away the blood. “I take it you’ve broken your nose before.”

  “A few times,” Infinity said, pulling back from Poppy’s towel and turning to the pack of doctors surrounding Tequila. “I’d like to go over there and be with my partner. You know… make sure he’s going to be okay.”

  “You’d just be in the way, hon. I told you he’s in good hands. Besides, I need to dress these wounds and get you to the briefing room for the post-excursion interview.”

  Infinity frowned at her. “Right now?”

  Poppy made a strained face. “SafeTrek policy. We have to do the interview as soon as possible, while your memory of the excursion is still fresh. I still need to examine you a bit more, but you appear to be mostly unhurt. Therefore—lucky you—you get to do the interview.”

  Twenty minutes later, Infinity had been probed, stuck, swabbed, and x-rayed, and Poppy led her to a small room that felt like a prison cell. Infinity was still naked, but she had hardly been aware of it until entering the briefing room. A plexiglass window took up most of one of the room’s walls, and on the other side of the window sat Armando Doyle, Grip, Tempest, and three other men Infinity had never seen before.

  Infinity frowned and turned to Poppy. “Do you think I could have a shirt or something?”

  Poppy made another strained face. “I’m sorry, hon. We avoid unnecessary contaminants and confinements to your skin during your three days of cleansing.”

  Doyle’s voice came over the comm system. “We’ll make an exception this time, Poppy. Perhaps you can give her a sterile gown.”

  Poppy’s eyes widened in surprise, but then she smiled at Infinity and said, “I’ll be right back with that.”

  “Have a seat, Infinity,” said Doyle.

  She sat in a chair behind a short wall that had obviously been designed to provide men with a bit of privacy from the waist down.

  Doyle leaned forward in his chair and placed his hands on his knees. “We’re deeply sorry to learn of Striker’s death. We’re also saddened to hear of Tequila’s debilitating injuries.”

  Infinity frowned and nodded.

  Doyle continued. “Perhaps you haven’t heard yet, but the med techs have told me that Tequila is responsive and seems to have recovered full cognitive function. Apparently he nearly drowned. If the bridging process hadn’t removed the water from his lungs at such a crucial moment, this probably would have been a very different conversation.”

  “And his leg?” Infinity asked.

  “Good news there as well. Our med techs tell me there’s a high probability they won’t have to amputate his knee. He will eventually be fitted with a highly functional prosthetic, perhaps a running blade. He’ll be as mobile as ever.”

  “But he’s done as a bridger, isn’t he?”

  Grip and Tempest exchanged a solemn look.

  Doyle frowned. “Well, the prosthetic—”

  “I know,” Infinity interjected. “The fake leg won’t bridge.” She rubbed her forehead and let out a long sigh. Her exhaustion was really catching up to her. She nodded toward the three men she hadn’t seen before. “Who are these guys?”

  “They’re from BU,” said Doyle. “Boston University. They’re colleagues of Dr. Munns and Dr. Knighton. They’ll likely have some questions for you during this debriefing.”

  The door to Infinity’s room popped open and Poppy came in, followed by Horton.

  Poppy stood to the side and let Horton pass by. “Dr. Munns is relatively unharmed,” she said. “We’ve released him for the post-excursion interview. Unfortunately, Dr. Knighton will have to be interviewed at a later time due to an injury to his arm.” She shot an inquisitive glance at Infinity. “Apparently an attack by a large bear?”

  Horton, still naked, took a seat beside Infinity. Poppy reached over him to offer Infinity a folded paper gown.

  Infinity eyed the gown for a moment and then shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ve changed my mind.” If Horton could do this interview naked, she sure as hell could too.

  Poppy gave Infinity an approving smile through her bio-suit faceplate before turning to leave the room.

  “We understand that you’ve both had a traumatic experience,” Doyle said. “I apologize for subjecting you to this interview so soon after your return, but it’s crucial that we understand what happened. As you know, this isn’t our first excursion to end in tragedy, and we wish to learn anything that might help us minimize future risks. I hope you both understand.”

  “Can I say something?” asked Horton.

  Doyle nodded. “Of course.”

  “Jarvis and I would not be alive if it weren’t for the heroic efforts of our bridgers. Striker, Tequila, and Infinity are the bravest people I’ve ever met. They somehow inspired me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. I’m pretty sure Jarvis would say the same.”

  Infinity turned to Horton. “Did you and Jarvis get any information you can use for your research?”

  Horton furrowed his brows, considering this. “Actually, yes. The absence of human civilization was unexpected but very intriguing. From the perspective of our research, this excursion was even more revealing than we had expected.”

  She looked at the men behind the plexiglass window. “So this excursion was a success.”

  Doyle gazed at her for a moment. “Unfortunately it was—”

  “Yeah, it was tragic,” Infinity said. “But both clients bridged back alive, having made the observations they set out to make. Striker gave up his life to protect them, and Tequila gave up his foot. But that’s what good bridgers are prepared to do. Striker taught me that. He certainly did not fail, and he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to say this excursion was a failure. So I don’t want to hear it either.”

  The faces on the other side of the window were like stone, unflinching and unreadable. But then Tempest cracked a slight smile and gave Infinity an almost imperceptible nod.

  Doyle cleared his throat softly and said, “We should move on to the details of your excursion.”

  “That can wait,” Infinity said. “You hired me to be a bridger—to be an expert at keeping our clients safe. Well, I’m telling you that you need to make some changes.”

  Doyle narrowed his eyes slightly. “Go on.”

  “To start, bridger training should include extensive lessons on the wildlife in this part of North America. Not just what lives here today, but also what was here in the past, so we can have at least some idea of what we might encounter. We need to know which animals are predators, which ones have good eyesight or a good sense of smell, and which can swim or run or climb.”

  “She makes a damn good point,” said Tempest.

  Infinity went on. “And we need better training to focus on ways to avoid predators. My team built a cage around ourselves, and it saved our lives. But making a cage wasn’t even mentioned in our training.”

  “Thank you for that, Infinity,” Doyle said.

  “I’m not finished yet. We need to provide some basic training for our clients before their excursions. The bridger’s creed says clients should never have to fight, but shit happens.”

  “I agree with that,” said Horton. “I could have benefited from a bit of instruction on using primitive weapons.”

  Infinity noticed that her heart was pounding, and she realized she was exhilarated. Unloading all these thoughts had actually felt good. Not because it had challenged Doyle’s authority, but because she knew she was right.

  “That's all I've got for now,” she said. And then she shut up.

  21


  Bridger

  Three Days Later

  Infinity shook Tequila’s shoulder. “Hey, partner. Wake up.”

  He opened his eyes. “Not asleep, just bored.” He then blinked at her. “Look at you. You’re wearing clothes.”

  She turned in a full circle, pretending to show off the sterile, paper top and pants. “What do you think?”

  He whistled. “Damn! You look so cute I wanna barf up a rainbow.”

  She grabbed the identical set of clothes folded up on the wheelchair she’d brought to his bed. She handed him the clothes and said, “Quarantine is officially over. Put these on. We’re going to the cafeteria, and we’re going to eat with people who aren’t wearing bio-suits.”

  He groaned softly and sat up, carefully shifting his bandaged ankle stump off the bed. He looked down at the clothes in his lap and said, “Listen, I gotta talk to you about something. I guess I’m leaving on Thursday. As soon as the docs give me the final okay.”

  “What? Why so soon?”

  He started unfolding the paper shirt. “I don’t know. Doyle said I could stay longer, but what’s the point? I gotta get on with stuff. Like life.”

  Infinity stared at him for a moment and then sat down in the wheelchair. “So, what’s that life going to look like, Tequila?”

  “You don’t have to call me that anymore. My name’s Scottie.”

  “Screw that. I’ll call you Tequila if I want to. You’re a better bridger than I am, and you’ve earned the name.”

  He smiled slightly. “Suit yourself. As for life, I’ve still got my apartment by the canal. I’m thinking Fons will let me work as a trainer at the Scrapyard. But I could really do pretty much whatever I want. SafeTrek’s giving me my full bonus for our excursion, plus they’re kicking in another fifty grand to help me get started back home. On top of that, they’ll be paying for my prosthetic foot when I’m ready for it. That Doyle’s a damn good guy.”

  Tequila pulled his shirt on over his head. “I figure if I’m careful with my money, I can open my own gym. Maybe find a low-rent place.”

  “That would be great. Be sure to say hello to Fons and the guys for me. And you’d better steer clear of that idiot Sal and his buddies. They’re bad news, and they’re going to be pissed.”

  Tequila chuckled. “Sal’s big friend is probably so ugly now that he’d scare the crap out of a toilet.”

  She shook her head. “That the best you got? You’re losing your touch, old man.”

  “Okay then, I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for him.”

  She snorted and stood up. “Get your ass in this wheelchair. I’m hungry.”

  An hour later, Infinity was staring down SafeTrek’s administrative hallway, acutely aware that she had never set foot in this part of the building before. Armando Doyle had stopped by the bridgers’ table in the cafeteria at lunch and asked her to come see him in his office once she finished eating. Now, walking down this unfamiliar hallway, she felt a knot forming in her stomach. Was Doyle going to fire her? Would she have to return to Phoenix with Tequila?

  She stopped to look at a tall, flat case mounted on the wall. Near the top it said Bridgers Who Sacrificed All To Protect Our Clients. Beneath the title were three names, each one embossed on its own rectangular brass plate:

  Tomcat—Lars Rookes

  Ram—Alfonzo Riutort

  Striker—Reed Crossland

  Infinity stared at the names. SafeTrek had only been operating a few months. Only ten teams had bridged so far. But there were already three names on this display. Her eyes drifted down to the empty space below the names—plenty of room for more.

  She found the door to Doyle’s office, which was open, and tapped on it.

  He waved her in. “No need to knock, Infinity.”

  She entered and looked around the office. To her surprise, there was no imposing, polished-wood desk or expensive-looking art on the walls. Instead, the room looked like a small tech lab. Three computer stations were situated around the office, each with four massive screens arranged in a semicircle on a glass-topped desk. The room was sparkling and uncluttered—no piles of papers, no shelves filled with thick books.

  Doyle was sitting in a black rolling chair at one of the computer stations. Instead of getting up, he kicked his feet and glided several yards to another station. He grabbed the identical rolling chair that was there and pushed it toward Infinity. His eyes lingered on her paper med lab clothes. “Those are god-awful,” he said.

  She sat down in the chair. “After three days of not getting to wear anything at all while cleansing, I’m not complaining.”

  He winced as if to show that he felt her pain. “I’ve heard the patho-cleansing and chemo-cleansing can be rather unpleasant.”

  She shrugged. “I bridged back alive, so again….”

  “And thank God for that.” He studied her for a moment, like he was wondering what she was actually thinking. Then he got up and walked over to a column of horizontal panels on the wall. He pushed a button next to one of the panels, and a drawer slid out quietly. He peered into the drawer. “There’s something I’d like to give you, kiddo.”

  Infinity gritted her teeth. Kiddo?

  He plucked something from the drawer, pushed the drawer back into the wall, and returned to his chair. He held the object up for her to see. It looked like a weathered old folding knife.

  “This is an official BSA Cub Scout pocket knife. I won’t say exactly how long ago I bought it, but I was nine years old at the time.” He unfolded the knife. The blade was corroded and stained. “Please indulge me for a moment. This knife has no real value, but it has a story. You see, unlike you, I’ve lived a relatively mundane life. I’ve never been in a fight. Never done anything particularly dangerous. Except for once.”

  He closed the blade and handed the knife to her. “I was ten. I thought I’d go on an adventure in the woods near my family’s home. I packed a lunch, put my knife in my pocket, and snuck out of the house without telling my mother. Mom had always been a bit overprotective—would never have let her boy wander into the woods alone. I hadn’t been in the woods much before that. Didn’t really know what I was doing. The underbrush turned out to be much thicker than I had imagined it would be. Still, I was determined, and I tried pushing my way through some brambles. Turned out the brambles were greenbriar. Sometimes known as catbriar, or smilax. Nasty, thorny stuff. Soon I was hopelessly ensnared by the damn things. My clothing, my skin, even my hair.”

  Infinity had no idea why he was telling her this, but she had to admit he had a flair for telling stories. She was intrigued.

  Doyle went on. “I must be honest. I cried. For maybe ten minutes I cried. I shouted, but no one came to my rescue. My arms were bleeding. My shirt was torn and speckled with blood spots. Finally, I realized I was going to have to save myself. I managed to get my hand to my pocket and pull out my knife, and then I proceeded to cut the greenbriar stems. I finally cut enough of them that I could fight my way out of the patch of thorns. Then I carefully removed the severed stems still stuck to my skin and clothing, one by one. I had emerged war-torn but victorious.” He smiled and made that ridiculous gesture of wiggling his bowtie.

  Against her better judgment, Infinity said, “So, you were kind of a pussy as a kid?”

  Doyle laughed loudly without hesitation. “Yes, you could say that.” He huffed one more brief chuckle and then pointed to the knife in her hands. “I’ve always kept that as a reminder that I am capable of mighty achievements.” He made quote marks in the air with his fingers at the word ‘mighty.’

  Infinity frowned at the knife. “You’re firing me, aren’t you?”

  “What? No! You thought I brought you in here to fire you?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “On the contrary, I merely wanted to give you this little token of admiration,” he said, nodding toward the knife. “It’s not much, but for me it’s a symbol of the human spirit. And let’s face it, you’ve got more human spirit th
an I’ve ever had. You’ve proven that beyond any doubt.”

  He hesitated, like he wanted to say something but was unsure whether he should. “I had always planned to give that knife to my daughter, who is my only child. But, well, she doesn’t think much of me. Hasn’t talked to me in years. Rightly so, I suppose. Anyway, I’ve decided to give it to you instead.” He smiled warmly, although his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.

  Feeling awkward, Infinity forced a smile in return.

  “Oh, goodness gracious,” said Doyle. “I almost forgot. I also wanted to extend an invitation to you, to become part of our bridger training program.”

  She blinked at him. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you’d be collaborating with Grip and Tempest to develop a more thorough training sequence for our new bridger recruits. You’ve made it clear that you have terrific ideas for improving the program. So, I’d like you to help us with implementing those ideas.”

  “Does that mean I wouldn’t be bridging out with clients anymore?”

  He nodded his head. “I thought… well, after what you went through….”

  “No, please! I want to keep bridging. I need to.”

  He furrowed his brows. “Okay. Well, I suppose that would give you more credibility with the new recruits.”

  Infinity was grateful that he hadn't asked her to elaborate on her reasons for needing to go on more excursions.

  Doyle clapped his hands together. “It’s settled then. And to be honest, I’m glad you want to continue bridging. Dr. Munns and Dr. Knighton have told me they’ve decided to continue with their sequence of excursions as originally planned. And they made no secret of their desire to have you as one of their bridgers.”

  “I accept.”

  “Excellent,” Doyle said, slapping his knees. He then stood up and gestured toward the door.

  Apparently their meeting was over.

  Infinity started to step into the hallway but then turned and held up the pocket knife. “Thanks for this.”