by Guy Salvidge
“You're expecting me?”
“Could I see some form of identification?”
“What? I don’t have any.”
The receptionist indicated that Kai Sen was to put his hand in the scanner on the desk. “Just your index finger, please.”
Kai Sen did as instructed, but the scanner flashed red.
The receptionist frowned and tapped away at his console. For a moment his face betrayed some authentic emotion, but then it was replaced by one of professional concern. “I cannot seem to read your implants,” he said.
“No, you don’t understand. I don’t have any implants. Haven’t you been briefed about my arrival?”
“Not sufficiently, it seems. One moment, please.”
Kai Sen waited. The receptionist did not move, but he was elsewhere. The man’s eyes glazed over. After a few seconds, his attention returned to Kai Sen:
“The matter has been resolved,” he said. “This way, please.”
“Thank you. Just one question: does the hotel have a doctor?”
The receptionist stopped and turned toward Kai Sen. It was as though he was seeing Kai Sen for the first time. “A doctor? No.”
“Can you recommend one?”
A pause. “I will forward the information to your suite.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
The halls and corridors of the Aurica were immaculately clean and brightly lit, and yet were oddly vacant. It was as though Kai Sen was walking through a planner’s dream of such a space, rather than the thing itself.
Kai Sen’s room was no different. It was completely devoid of the accoutrements one might expect to find in a hotel room, such as artworks on the walls, a balcony or even a window. It was a dull space with a bed, and in a separate room, a shower, toilet and sink. Kai Sen made some comment about the room’s austerity to the receptionist, who stood in the doorway waiting to be dismissed.
“But you haven’t ported in yet,” the receptionist replied.
“Ported in?”
Looking genuinely bemused now, the receptionist pointed to the smooth metal compartment next to the bed. “I must return to the desk,” he said.
Kai Sen did not want to think about ‘porting in’ just yet. His first task was to get clean. He was surprised to discover that the ‘shower’ was in fact much more: it was like the automated car washes of his own century. The shower dispensed all manner of soaps, gels, deodorants and perfumes, which could be selected by way of a console on the shower wall. These lotions were applied by a plethora of automated brushes. Kai Sen emerged from this experience gloriously clean, sweet smelling and a little disturbed.
On the bed he found a plain blue tunic, neatly pressed, which proved to be a good fit. His dirty clothes had been removed. Dressed in this utilitarian garb, Kai Sen felt that he was starting to lose his identity. It did not take him long to realise that there was absolutely nothing to do here, except sleep or open the silver compartment. He avoided it for as long as possible, exploring every nook of his new space. But there was nothing of interest here. Curiosity soon compelled him to consider the compartment, which opened with a click.
Inside there was a silver mask hanging from a hook. He picked it up, turning it around in his hands. The mask was almost weightless, and Kai Sen could not guess what it was made of. Could Kai Sen resist the temptation to put it on? Not for long. He slid it over his head, felt it mould itself to the shape of his face.
Then it was as though there were unforeseen consequences scuttling around in the corner of the room. It took a few moments for Kai Sen to adjust to his new environment, but when he did, be began to see things quite differently. How to explain how completely things had changed? Where Kai Sen’s room had been barren before, now it was luxurious. The bed itself was carved from a rich, golden brown wood. The sheets were cool, the mattress soft and yielding. It would not be difficult to fall asleep on such a bed...but now his attention was drawn to the window, through which the city could be seen in all its grandeur. It was a wondrous sight—the city sprawling away into the distance, filled with riotous colour and hive-like activity. Kai Sen soaked it in. All the tension in his muscles ebbed away.
There was a nagging thought in the back of his mind, that none of this was real. But what did it matter? Kai Sen would enjoy himself tonight, then turn his attention to the real world tomorrow. He went to the cabinet and put on a black dinner jacket. It was a perfect fit. Admiring his profile in the mirror, Kai Sen wondered whether his luck had turned for the better. He looked healthy, more alive than he had done in years. Padding barefoot across the plush carpet, he found some black dress shoes near the door. There was a bottle of cologne on the table. He splashed some across his cheeks, savouring the rich scent. Then he left his room in search of the bar.
The Aurica was a hub of activity. The corridors buzzed with giddy couples heading out for the evening. The hotel had a restaurant—The Minotaur—on the ground floor. It was almost dinner time. Good—Kai Sen was starving and he needed a drink. Descending the marble steps toward the reception, he marvelled at the sheer extravagance of the glittering chandeliers.
“Good evening, sir,” a hotel valet said. “Are you dining tonight?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Excellent,” the valet said. “This way, please.”
The Minotaur was packed with diners, but the valet led him straight to a small table in the far corner of the restaurant. The table was set out for two. “Your guest will be along shortly,” the valet explained.
“My guest?”
“She advises that she is running a little late. Would sir like to try the wine while he waits?”
Yes, Kai Sen would, and he did. He chose an elegant pinot noir with an aroma of crushed blackcurrants. Sipping his wine, he looked at his watch. 7.45. The reservation had been made for 7.30, and yet Mei Lin had not yet arrived. Ah, but here she was, wearing a pearled white dress. His beautiful flower! Mei Lin smiled in recognition and sat down across from him. Kai Sen could smell her sweet perfume. She touched his arm with her perfectly manicured hand.
“You look sublime,” he said.
“Do you really think so?”
“I do.”
They ate a sumptuous meal of filleted pork loins, stuffed potatoes with sun-dried tomatoes and jasmine rice. They drank the pinot noir together as they spoke the words of whimsical triviality. Kai Sen had a wonderful evening, one of the best he could recall. When they left the restaurant, arm in arm, they kissed passionately at the fountain near the marble staircase. Kai Sen led Mei Lin up to his room, his hand hugging the curve of her bottom. There he made love to her before they collapsed together in rapturous bliss.
When Kai Sen woke in the night, Mei Lin was gone. His throat was dry, so he went to the bathroom and poured himself a glass of water. Looking around his darkened room, he could find no sign that she had been here. No message, no forgotten item of clothing. Had he dreamed the whole thing? Scratching his head, he rummaged around for the folded tunic. The room was stuffy, so he went outside into the dimly-lit corridor. No one stirred at this hour. He stumbled around, searching for the staircase. He needed to clear his head. There was a dull ache at the back of his skull. Some fresh air would do him good.
There was no one at the reception, not even a night guard. If only he could find his way out onto the street. Passing the lift, he headed off in a different direction. More halls, corridors and locked doors. How was he supposed to get out?
Then he saw it—the hotel foyer. He could see the muted colours of the street through glass windows. Kai Sen walked up to the revolving door but nothing happened. Perhaps he needed to trigger a sensor somehow. There was no obvious way through. What kind of a hotel was it that did not allow its guests to come and go as they pleased? Kai Sen was beginning to get annoyed when he noticed a console embedded in the wall. It had a scanner similar to the one used at the reception desk, and a small flashing screen. He put his index finger in the scanner and felt a brief, sharp p
ain. A string of numbers flashed up on the screen, then the words: KAI SEN. But the door did not open, and no further information was displayed.
Frustrated, Kai Sen turned away from the scanner, the tips of his fingers tingling. Holding his hand up to the foyer light, he studied his index finger. There was some discolouration beneath the surface, as though the finger was bruised. Pressing down on the soft flesh with his opposite thumb, he felt pain. There was a lump beneath the skin. It occurred to him that he had been implanted. And yet the door would not open for him. The street lay out of reach.
He made his way back up to his room, looking for signs of life. There were none. He thought of the evening before, of Mei Lin. It made no sense, like a dream that makes no sense upon retelling. It had been a fantasy, a virtual reality. He had experienced the evening he had wanted to experience, but in his mind only. Kai Sen tried to remember how it all began. With the mask. He must have looked strange wearing a dinner jacket with that mask on. But there were more questions, other problems: there had been no dinner jacket and no wardrobe when he first entered the room; he remembered looking out the window over the city, where now there was just an empty wall; he had seen no marble staircases or chandeliers on his way up; and worst of all, he could find no trace of The Minotaur. Had he eaten at all? His stomach said yes. But what had he eaten, and with whom?
There was another problem, one that was even more distressing. He had definitely put the mask on, but he could not remember taking it off. Now, looking at the mirror in the bathroom, he could see that he wasn't wearing it. It should be hanging up in the compartment again. Kai Sen went over to the compartment and opened it. Then he exhaled. The mask was on its hook. So he must have taken it off when he came back to the room. That would explain why the hotel seemed empty and sterile again. That was what the receptionist had meant by porting in: entering a slick virtual reality where your fantasies and desires were fulfilled.
As he drifted off toward sleep, Kai Sen had another unsettling thought: what if he was still in the virtual reality? What if he was being tricked into thinking that he was out of it? The mask was hanging up, but how did he know it wasn't an illusion, like everything else had been? He put his hands up to his face, searching for the feel of where a hidden mask might meet his skin. He tugged at the flesh over his cheekbone, wondering whether it was truly his. But he found no evidence, no anomaly. That way lies madness, he said to himself. Why would they want to trick him anyway? He had nothing to hide.
Nothing to hide, his mind repeated. I've got nothing.
Chapter Ten
In the morning, Shu Wen came to collect him. In person, Shu Wen was stiff and formal, perhaps not used to being separated from her video screen. She shook his hand gravely and asked if he had slept well.
“The bed was comfortable,” he replied, “but some strange things happened in the night.”
“Strange things?” she said, raising her eyebrows.
“Yes,” he said, suddenly losing the urge to elaborate. “It's not important.”
“I see,” Shu Wen said. “Did you work out how to port in?”
“The hotel staff showed me.”
“I trust everything was to your satisfaction?”
“Certainly.” He would mention the implant business to her a little later. Kai Sen could see that she was impatient to leave.
“Make sure you leave nothing of value behind,” Shu Wen said. “It may be necessary for you to stay at ISA headquarters for some time.”
“I've got nothing of value,” he said softly, closing the door behind him.
Shu Wen's car was identical to the one he had travelled in yesterday, except that its predominant colour was molten red.
“Where did you say we were going?” he asked as the car began to move.
“The headquarters of the Inner Shield Authority. It isn't far.”
They were entering the cylindrical conveyor. Kai Sen had imagined that Baitang's ruler would be found on the topmost level, looking down on his subjects, so it came as a slight surprise when the tear-drop car began to spiral downward instead of up. He said something to this effect to Shu Wen.
“Silex is a wise administrator. He well knows the importance of the common people. That's why the nerve centre of the ISA is on the fifth level, not the ninth. He also knows the importance of new blood. That's why he makes it his business to meet each recovered sleeper personally. Not usually as quickly as this, of course.”
“Why the hurry to meet me?”
“Administrator Silex was very pleased to hear of your case. It seems that one of his forebears worked for a medical board such as the one you described. I must say, however, that I have found no evidence of the existence of such an organisation.”
“Maybe there aren't any records of it.”
“Unlikely, but it's true that some of the records are patchy. I look forward to working with you more closely on this matter. But we have arrived.”
Where the Aurica had been extravagant in design, the ISA building was drab and utilitarian. It was a cubic mass, coloured white and grey.
“Do you work here?” Kai Sen asked.
“I work for the Authority, yes.”
The car came to a standstill in what appeared to be a loading zone. For a moment, Kai Sen wondered if they were getting out, but then the car began to sink into the ground. The loading zone was in fact a platform. The gaudy lights of the street disappeared. Kai Sen felt a surging panic—it was like the cold cryonic coffin again. Breathe. Concentrate on breathing. And then Shu Wen's voice:
“This is a security measure,” she said, her voice too loud for the enclosed space. “No one knows where Silex's offices are, or even whether they are in the ISA building at all.”
“Why the need for secrecy?”
“There has been the threat of saboteurs in recent times,” she said. “You need not concern yourself; we are quite safe.”
It was a strange sensation. They were moving in complete darkness. Kai Sen tried to work out whether they were travelling horizontally or vertically, but he could not even be sure of that.
Now the platform was rising into a brightly lit space with gleaming metal walls. The platform clunked into place and the car began to rotate. Now the car was moving, but not under its own power. They were being shunted along on a carriage through a tunnel. Neither of them spoke. They finally came to rest in a small chamber.
Shu Wen led him through a series of corridors, passageways and antechambers, until finally they came to a carpeted room dominated by a large wooden table. The walls were filled with pictures of important personages. Plaques pronounced their great deeds.
“Please sit,” Shu Wen said. “Silex will be here shortly.”
“You're not staying?”
“No—I have matters to attend to.” Shu Wen left.
He was not kept waiting long.
Kai Sen expected Baitang's overlord to be an old man, perhaps stooped over a cane, but the man who entered the room and introduced himself as Silex was scarcely older than Kai Sen himself. Silex was tall but not extremely so, and he carried himself with a certain air of dignity. He had piercing green eyes and black hair that hung down well past his ears. Silex wore a plain grey garment, hardly the dress of kings. He shook Kai Sen's hand warmly and sat down across the desk from him.
“So you are Kai Sen,” Silex said. “I have been expecting you—it is an honour to meet one of the First. There are so few of them left alive today.”
“The honour is mine,” Kai Sen said. Should he call him Administrator Silex? Emperor Silex? He wasn't sure.
“Can I offer you a drink?” Silex asked.
Kai Sen nodded, and Silex poured them both a glass of a blue liquid from a globular decanter. The drink was sweet and refreshing, like iced tea.
“Thank you,” Kai Sen said.
Silex sipped his own drink, momentarily distant, but then his attention returned. “I have been looking for a chamber of First sleepers for some time. It is thought that
there are several such facilities in Shulao, but my operatives have not succeeded in locating them. Thus your arrival is unexpected. You are a lucky man, Kai Sen. Three hundred years is a long time to be asleep.”
“It's hard to comprehend,” Kai Sen said.
“Well, what do you think of Baitang? Things must have changed since your time, yes?”
“I have seen some incredible things already.”
“And you will see more,” Silex said. “Much more. But tell me about yourself. I am eager to discover whether you knew my ancestors. Shu Wen tells me you worked for this...United Medical Board.”
“That's correct.” He had to proceed carefully here. “A decision was made that some of the directors would be put into hibernation during the period of...unrest. But we never thought that we would sleep for so long. And then to find Shulao in ruins....”
“Yes, the 'unrest' lasted a great deal longer than your medical board might have expected. It's not so easy to get rid of billions of people, you know! Many of our own were killed in the fighting.”
“Maybe you can explain this to me,” Kai Sen said.
“Where do I start?” Silex laughed. “I'm no historian, although I can put you in contact with one. Suffice to say that there were wars, famines, floods and plagues. Much of this has passed into folklore now. The details are basically unimportant, but the deed was done.”
“The deed?”
“Forgive me. I assume too much, considering that you have been asleep since 2070. The deed, the act—call it whatever you like.”
“Yes?”
Silex frowned. “The great deed. Depop, my father called it. Depopulation.”
Depop. “Shu Wen said that there are less than a million people in Four Rivers now,” Kai Sen said. “And that includes the...peasants.”
“Shocking, isn't it? They weren't all murdered, of course. It's hard to get rid of so many people without nuking the lot of them, and no one wanted that. There were plasma bombs and so forth, but many more died from disease than bombs. It was often more a case of calculated neglect than deliberate killing. And the climate was changing of course, quite violently. Baitang would be a jungle now if it were not for the shield. The wretched creatures outside had no chance. In that respect, our forebears—well, my forebears and your descendants—were lucky. Much of the dirty work was done for them by nature itself. A curious happenstance.”