She left the lab, pumping her arms and legs in a good rhythm, heading across one of the footbridges she’d never before crossed, toward the structure’s childcare and education facilities.
Weeks ago, part of her might still have wondered what could be over there they might want to involve her in, but after so long in Thrall she didn’t wonder much of anything anymore. She did as they willed, always. The pleasure was always there, too, though she had grown accustomed to it. She had been forced to accept the fact that she was little more than an observer of her own life, that every aspect of her existence was subject to the rats’ control. The human race consisted almost exclusively of spectators, now, and Chelsea, the Preconditioning Czar and de facto most powerful human on Earth, was merely a mechanical component, functioning only to maintain the other mindlessly obedient mechanical components.
Her chemically induced claustrophobia was gone. That was the first adjustment she had made once the teams had converted the synthesizers to accept her authority. Now she worked daily on change orders the synthesizers had recommended but not initiated, pending approval of the Medical Doctor. As Preconditioning Czar, she exercised the same authority to approve or reject such actions as a computer in a Medical Doctor’s office would have had. It was a heady experience, even considering her situation. That was what she’d been doing when the rats had suddenly sent her marching out into the passageway on some new mission.
Months ago she would have found herself impressed that the rats, the undisputed rulers of the world, had approved of her taking such a huge and important position. Now she realized that pride, like any other emotion, had no use. It was pointless to think in such terms, judging herself better or worse for her ability to please the rats. There was no reason to feel one way or another about the rats’ approval of her. If she lost their approval, she would cease to exist. There was no responsibility to manage or plan; she had only to do what she was made to do.
This was the area of the structure that had been designed for children, though none had actually boarded before it had sealed. There were broad rooms designed as areas for study on computers that mimicked EIs, though even EIs were already old technology, now. The new wave manip interfaces were free and available to everyone, so even children who hadn’t proven their corporate worth could have functioned in the same way as those already known to be on the executive track.
The areas to which the upper grades would have been assigned consisted of nothing but empty seats and bare walls. Upper-grade education was all done electronically. She passed a few rooms like that and then stopped at one in the middle grades area, which contained a few more physical materials.
She approached a tall cabinet within the room, which was full of scientific learning aids. As she opened it, her eyes were drawn to the second shelf. She moved aside some racks of glassware and a track with little balls that were meant to demonstrate some physics principles. From the rear of the cabinet she pulled a half-sized model of a woman’s body that was comprised of removable plastic organs. Chelsea was surprised to find her hands pulling the various parts away, finally removing and holding up a little uterus and fetus that had been inside.
“Why am I here?” She tried to speak the question aloud, but found the animal controlling her hadn’t allowed her enough mobility in her mouth and jaw. Instead she only thought it, which was really the same thing.
What am I supposed to do with this?
Suddenly she was back at the door, running out with the plastic fetus still in her hand, through passages and back across the walkway, where she encountered a young woman who had been steered into Chelsea’s path by her own rat. As they came together, the woman was made to lie on the floor and spread her legs, and Chelsea’s hand placed the little plastic fetus between them.
Babies! You want me to change the birth control settings for this woman!
Waves of warmth and pleasure flooded through her.
19
Aboard the Amelix beetle
Gregor Kessler stared straight ahead. The collective rat mind had now figured out the various human roles aboard the structure and had ratcheted down tighter control. Now his eyes moved where the Rat Gods directed them, just like every other part of him did. He was still able to blink.
One time he had chosen to keep his eyes closed, just to feel the power of being able to do so. They’d let him get away with it for about fifteen seconds, and then stopped his breathing for twice that amount of time.
He’d tried it once more after that, counting, and they’d only let him get to ten seconds. That time they’d stopped his breathing until he passed out. It was clear he wouldn’t survive testing them again.
By design, the Amelix structure’s interior environment never varied. Levels of light and temperature were kept constant at all times, so there was no night or day. The wave manipulations that substituted for sleep were disorienting, as was the constant flow of pleasure the Rat Gods provided. Time had become meaningless.
He found himself looking down at a table which stood at the end of a long row of empty desks. Rats climbed aboard a tray, waiting for him to shuttle them somewhere. His hands grasped the tray and his head turned toward the corridor. Passing over one of the interior bridges, he remembered traveling this way to meet the wave manip guy back in the days when his legs moved on his own command. What had his name been? Tafiq, maybe. Something like that. It didn’t matter anymore.
Nothing mattered anymore.
Kessler changed bridges and angled off in a different direction. The walkway sloped downward and switched back twice before leveling off. Finally, he took a sharp turn onto a wide, steep ramp and proceeded toward the closed double doors at the bottom.
Pitiful moans escaped through the doors, loud enough for him to hear them before he was even halfway down the ramp. He passed through the entrance into a large room full of evenly spaced rectangular tables. The entire area smelled like sex. His captors marched him onward through the dim, humid room. On each of more than twenty tables spread about the room were two couples, naked and in coitus.
The Rat Gods did nothing but that which served their own purposes. Human pleasure was worthless to them. If they allowed human sex, it had to be serving a rat purpose.
This was a breeding program.
He made stops around the room with his tray, lowering the rats to various tables where they took up positions supervising and controlling the process. New rats climbed onto the tray as the others got off.
At the third stop, his attention was drawn to the girl who was pinned down at the edge of the table. She lay motionless while a standing man pounded robotically into her. He could just glimpse her face in his peripheral vision—it was Keiko.
Emotion, or maybe shock, empowered Kessler, and he managed to rip a bit of control away from the rats, turning his eyes by his own volition to meet Keiko’s. Her eyes seemed to have been left under her own control, and together they shared one brief and exquisite moment of connection. The rats clamped down, shutting off his breathing, but he still maintained eye contact with her.
Pulling himself partially free of the rats’ control like this was an unforgiveable sin. They would never let him breathe again. His vision began to fade. He kept his eyes on Keiko’s until it went completely black.
Aboard the Agnes, just outside the old Williams Gypsum mine
Dok finished the last bite of his giant portion of synth steak and rice. As last meals went, it wasn’t bad. Neither he nor Lawrence was an authorized synthesizer user inside this structure, but Andro-Heathcliffe staff had managed to find enough to feed them both. Now, stuffed so full they could hardly bend at the middle, they were being fitted into hazardous materials suits as Peety ran in excited circles at their feet.
It wasn’t actually Dok’s last meal, though it was certainly the last he could expect to consume with utensils from a plate. They were sending him with a backpack full of nutrient tubes, which the suit sterilized and punctured, passing empty tubes out through a s
pecial apparatus. There was another apparatus at the other end, which they’d also taught him to use, for passing out his own waste. He could stay alive out there for quite a while.
Lawrence was already suited up, in a white suit instead of the typical orange, since only White equipment came as large as Lawrence’s Unnamed body. He stood waiting with his hands on his hips and the hood still hanging open down his back. The plan was for Lawrence to go through the five-minute process of being ejected from the structure first, and for Dok to go after that.
There were already four other volunteers waiting out there. As far as Dok could tell, the primary role of this yet to be identified team was to watch, and to implicitly threaten, Lawrence and himself.
“Sir,” Li’l Ed said to his boss, NJt994, a Gold whose only distinguishing characteristic was a slightly disapproving scowl. “I think we should consider what these men have suggested about beginning a worldwide network of cooperation. Sett is sole heir to the Williams Gypsum Corporation, and you have autonomy in your direction of this ship, sir. I agree with Sett when he says it’s a good idea to demonstrate that our two entities are capable of a long-term arrangement. It would help other companies see it as a trend they want to be part of as well, sir.”
“I can see you believe that, 547,” NJt994 said. “Sometimes I forget how young and inexperienced you are. Eventually you’ll understand how foolish it is that you’ve let yourself be convinced of this, but for now I’ll just say no.”
“I…Of course I would never question your judgment, sir. But it’s difficult for me to understand. It doesn’t seem we can fight off Amelix alone.”
“We’re not fighting alone. Every corporation not under rat control is fighting with all it has. All corporations exist to concentrate resources into themselves, and each human-controlled corporation will fight like hell to continue doing so in this new environment. However, that same mandate makes cooperation between institutions nearly impossible. Why would any organization trust any other?”
“A merger, then, sir,” 547 said. “Then we’d all be concentrating resources.”
“We don’t have the resources to come out on top in any merger. I’m responsible for every life aboard the Agnes and I’ll be damned if I’m going to surrender that to some other company. It’s disconcerting, 547 to see you suggest this, and especially when you recommend using a shell corporation owned by a former friend.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.” Li’l Ed bowed his head, defeated.
Li’l Ed turned to Lawrence. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Lawrence said.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Li’l Ed said. “Here.” Li’l Ed gave something to Lawrence. “I took this from your table during the raid at Chalk Bar. It’s fascinating stuff. I’ve read it cover-to-cover maybe a hundred times, and now I’m teaching others about it from a digital copy. The wisdom inside this book helps us all to understand our struggle and our place in this new world.”
“Heh,” Lawrence said, holding it up. “Dok, look at this. It’s Eadie’s notebook.” He tossed it to Dok, who found himself surprised at how comforted he was to touch it again, to hold the book that had meant so much to Eadie, even if it had also been used by the Prophet to manipulate her. He didn’t know what to say, so he just held it in his hand, staring at it.
“Since you’re going out there for all of us, I thought you should have it back,” Li’l Ed said.
“You kept it all this time, Dok,” Lawrence said. “You keep it now.”
Dok nodded, watching his hand as it buttoned the tattered notebook into a shirt pocket. His eyes connected briefly with Lawrence’s. “I guess I’ll see you out there,” he said.
“Yeah.” Lawrence took a deep breath and then pulled the hood over his face. Li’l Ed walked him over to the packaging area, where they sealed Lawrence and his white suit inside a pressurized bioplastic ball. He had to walk, in a slightly crouched position, rolling inside the ball, to enter the first of a series of soft tubes that would slowly move him out of the structure. Dok, Li’l Ed, and even NJt994 all stood frozen for a moment, as pressure, vacuum, and biomechanical forces moved him out of sight.
“Okay, Dok,” Li’l Ed said. “Let’s get you into your suit.” He gestured and Dok walked over to the fitting area. Li’l Ed held open the foot area of a suit and helped Dok carefully step in.
“Thanks—” Dok almost said ‘Li’l Ed’ but thought better of it. He lowered his voice, even though NJt994 was some distance away and staring into space as he apparently worked his EI. “So, who is waiting out there for us?”
“Actually, I don’t know. That part of the plan wasn’t disclosed to me until I was bringing you two up here. I was told the identities are need-to-know, and evidently I don’t.”
“Could they be Whites, like you?”
“Doubtful. We’re too valuable.”
They zipped up the suit and sealed its flaps, making it airtight around Dok’s body. Like Lawrence had done, he left the hood off as long as possible. No matter how long he survived out there, this would be the last time he would ever be alive with his head uncovered.
“Okay,” 547 said. “Now we’ll seal you inside a pressurized ball of bioplexi film. You’ll go out like unusable organic waste does. The Agnes is already lowered all the way to the ground so there won’t be a fall. Once outside, you will pull the threads inside the balls, which will open a seam for you to exit them and walk in your HAZMAT suits. Do not pull the threads until you are outside, because without the pressurized ball around you the extraction process would squeeze you so tightly that your lungs wouldn’t be able to expand and you’d suffocate. Let’s seal you up.”
Because he needed cameras and screens to do what others used an EI to do, Dok’s orange hood was significantly larger than Lawrence’s white one. It took two attendants to settle it onto his shoulders. Dok took a deep breath just before it was sealed. A transparent screen began displaying a few numbers at the edges of his vision.
“These screens were designed for scientific purposes, but we can use them to provide you with information as if you had an EI,” Li’l Ed said. “It can read the focal depth of your eyes. If you want to see anything in the screen, start by panning your eyes down and to the left.” Dok did, and a set of four screens came up across the lowest quarter of his vision. Dok pulled his eyes away to focus on Li’l Ed’s face again, and the screens vanished.
“We have lowered the Agnes down into this open pit section of the Williams mine, to get some partial protection from the sides while we wait for you to complete your mission,” Li’l Ed said.
“Sett will go inside the older section of the mine they used for storage and get a vehicle while you’re transitioning out. When you arrive outside you will join with our team, who will be waiting for you.”
“I wish you hadn’t done that. We don’t need a team, Li’l Ed,” Dok said. “It’s a waste of life, even if they’re volunteers. We’d prefer working without them, and they’d get to live.”
“I’m sorry, Dok,” Li’l Ed said. “It’s not just about your preferences. It was determined that the Agnes had an interest in—well, in protecting itself from you.”
“So you found volunteers who’d be willing to kill us if we look at your building sideways?”
“I don’t know who we found. My responsibility was to recruit and manage the two of you.”
He cleared his throat, gesturing toward the packaging area. As they walked, Li’l Ed strapped a black shoulder harness over Dok’s arms. He adjusted it so that the twin guns dug into Dok’s sides. “Has to be snug. Sorry. You’ll get used to it.” The heavy guns pressed against his ribs.
They situated him in position and suspended a truck-sized piece of machinery over him. “Squat down,” the technician said. A loud blast of air shoved the suit against Dok’s skin for a second, and he found himself sealed in a transparent spherical pellet.
Now Li’l Ed’s voice came over speakers as a different technician moved him to the tube and help
ed him navigate the ball into the opening. “Here’s the plan: We already sent out a ball of weapons and supplies, including chemical bombs.
“Dok, you’ll drive up to the Federal building, while Sett stays here with the rail gun to guard the Agnes. We hope your vehicle will be small enough to go unnoticed by the Amelix beetle, but as we discussed, instead of a truck you’ll be driving some heavy mining machinery that should be better able to hold its own, if it comes to that.
“Once you get inside the building, you’ll drop chemical bombs everywhere. They’ve been formulated to produce a fog that hangs in the air for about ninety minutes. That should buy you some time to explore. Hopefully you can kill any rats nearby and rescue our first team. They’re still being held in the underground room where they were captured. We’ve turned off their lights and cameras for now to save power, but biostats confirm that they’re all still alive, and it’s possible that the rats intend to use them as guards. If you can’t rescue them, you may have to shoot them. Either way, get inside and grab any first-generation heavy weaponry you can find, but remember whatever you get has to have a bracelet to make it work, just like the one squished around Sett’s rail gun grip. It’s highly unlikely you’ll find any, and even less so that you’ll find a bracelet, but we have to at least try.
“Sett, you will stay here, just outside the Agnes, in case Amelix attacks. The rail gun is charged up, but we don’t know much about its number of available projectiles because, as you know, you wouldn’t let go of it for us to figure it out.”
“It’s a bit late for that now, in any case,” Lawrence’s voice said over the speakers in Dok’s hood. “Coming out now. I see daylight. Whoo. Bright after so long.”
The Book of Wanda, Volume Two of the Seventeen Trilogy Page 39