by Farley Dunn
A prison was a prison was a prison, no matter how they styled it up to look like a place someone might want to live.
She had her passkey out, Garik noticed. It was required from the outside as well as the inside. He couldn’t get out, but by the same measure, no one could get in, not unless they had the magic stick.
What did that mean? What would they want to keep out of his room that might want to get in?
He was no longer thinking who might want to get in. He had seen too much. DNA. Timber wolf. Marina in her fish clothing. Jantzen Hefferly’s effervescent wrist, evaporating into smoke at the touch of Garik’s hand.
It was no longer who might want to get in his room but what. Garik’s thoughts had shifted as easily from one concept to the other as a man might slip down a greased pole from one level of a firehouse to another, disappearing into the dark hole in the floor to face whatever awaits him, good or bad.
“Where have you been allowed to visit so far?” Marina paused, wrapped her passkey in her hand and, after a moment, turned toward Garik.
Her eyes, a slight shifting of her lips, the anticipation of his answer. Garik remembered that night on the roof with Marisa. They each had wrapped up in blankets against the cold dark, and the sound of the Dactyls had filtered through the night air. Marisa was focused on her MicroArt tablet, furiously scribbling away on her latest graphic storyboard, and she had handed it to him to see—
“The electrified sword. I haven’t seen that.” He said it with an assurance he didn’t know he possessed. It was thinking of Marisa. She had been captivated by the idea of the sword, even giving him a drawing of her wearing two of them when she knew Arik was coming down on him. Well, was about to come down on him, but it was the same. She had offered him protection from what she knew was coming, even if it was only ink on paper. He wanted to reach out to her and protect her now, and he couldn’t.
Still, the sword was a connection to her. If he could see it, know where it was, even—though he couldn’t imagine this would happen—touch it, hold it, wield it to fight his way out of this place—
“I was told you were a bit of a dreamer.” Marina touched his arm. Garik jerked back to the corridor, startled to see the ordinary lights overhead, his door, B2-17, beside him, and Marina looking at him with a smile that reminded him of her sister.
“Dreamer. What do you mean?” His heart wasn’t yet settled from his conquest of his dungeon prison, and he realized he could identify Marina’s fragrance. “You are seaweed and the beach, did you know that?”
“What?” She laughed, pretty in the moment, and clear and guileless in her surprise. “Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know.” Garik shrugged. “You just are. It smells good, you know, the shore. Marisa and I used to walk to The Docks—”
“Don’t tell me I smell like The Docks.” Marina chuckled, her left hand at her mouth to quiet the sound. “I’ve lived in Bay City all my life, and that place is diesel and death. Yuck.”
“No, wait.” Garik would be irritated at himself for his clumsiness, but Marina seemed not to mind. He grinned. “Not The Docks. We would walk down Shorefront to Cassel Dunes and watch the surf come in. The wind would come in from the water, always cold, and the smell was like the world was brand new, and we were the only people in it.”
“Seaweed, though?”
“Seaweed’s not a bad thing.” Garik shrugged again, though not as big as before. “It’s just part of it. I like seaweed.”
“Okay, then. I just never thought I smelled like seaweed.” She lifted the inside of her wrist to her nose and drew in a dramatically deep breath before moving her arm away.
“And the beach,” Garik reminded her.
“And the beach, so that makes seaweed okay. I can live with that.” She glanced down the corridor both ways, as if deciding what she might be permitted to show him. Her eyes settled on the large room Garik had seen earlier from through his door. “Follow me. I don’t think I can give you the sword, but I can show you a few other things. You must promise to behave.”
“I promise.” He lifted his arm to pledge his cooperation, saw the bandages, and changed arms. “I don’t guess my bandages are much reassurance.”
“Your promise is enough. Just be good.” She waggled a finger at him before turning to lead him through the opening into the vast space beyond. “I’ll need to pick up a tablet. I can get one in the clinic.”
MUCH OF Basement Level 2 was off limits to Garik, he quickly found. Marina showed him the small clinic first, where she put in a code and withdrew a tablet and a stylus from a cabinet and signed in.
“What’s that for?”
“I have to let them know you’re with me. Have they told you about the heat sensors?”
“Yeah. They supposedly don’t spy on me, but they do. What about them?”
“Don’t be too harsh with them. They might save your life. It’s not my place to say too much, and I’m not an expert on what will happen to you in the next few months, but you will change. Anyway, this way they will know why you aren’t in your room.”
No one was inside the clinic, so they only glanced around. Marina left the lights off, as they had found them. “The clinic is only for emergencies,” she said, and Garik pictured his bandaged arm, wondering what constituted an emergency.
He did notice that Marina signed out a small container of lotion, and as they continued, she opened it and began working it into the skin on her right arm. She didn’t explain, and pretty soon, Garik’s mind had turned to other things.
The climbing wall was only one part of a much larger recreation area, with running tracks, boxing rings, and gymnastic equipment. One wall of glass fronted a water-filled room.
“That’s recreation?” Garik walked to the wall, looking into the blue-tiled cavern, seeing resting places and tables underwater. It didn’t look like the pool in the upper floors of the Tower that he had visited with Marisa and Kevin Lee. “Who uses that?”
“Me.”
Garik turned, mortified at his continued clumsiness. “Oh. I didn’t think. I’m sorry. I forget—” He cut off his words before he said something else he would regret.
“Don’t apologize. I’m glad you see me and not what I’ve become. Let’s move on.”
They were walking past a long set of interior windows, plain glass backed with blinds, when Garik asked, “Why did you call me a dreamer?”
“That?” She laughed lightly. “I’m sorry. I should have watched my words. It’s nothing.”
“Marisa calls me a dreamer.” He felt his eyes tighten with memories and shook them off. “So, why am I a dreamer, and who’s been telling you that?”
“It’s the way you pause, lost in your own world, and you have to be reminded that someone’s talking to you—”
A loud, unexpected voice interrupted her. “There you are! Marina, wait!”
“Caught out.” Marina wrapped her hand around Garik’s good wrist and whispered as she laughed. “This is likely the end of our tour. It’s Jantzen.”
“Hefferly?” Garik knew who she meant. He just didn’t know if they would meet the man from the video screens in the food court, the man who had seemed compassionate in the hospital room, or the one who had jerked away in pain when Garik had grabbed his wrist. He felt his body tense in anticipation.
“You promised.” Marina gave his wrist another squeeze before releasing it.
“Be good. Right.” Garik tried to relax, but the memory of the needles wasn’t a good one, and to him, even though the man had seemed to have kind eyes, he also hadn’t hung around to stand up for him when Dr. Jimenez had instructed Nurse Ratchett to shove the needle back in his arm to send him off to sleepy land.
“Thank you.” She turned, lifted her left hand to her hair, pushed it through, and let it fall back in exactly the same place as before. “Jantzen, hello. What can I do for you? I’m taking Garik on a walkabout—”
“I know. Thank you.” Jantzen stopped at their side
with a smile. He straightened his dark-gray shirt with its long sleeves and shook one leg to line up a crease to center on a gleaming leather oxford. As he brushed the front of his pants flat, the black face of his watch peeked from inside his sleeve before disappearing once more. He looked almost ordinary, but his dark hair and tight beard did nothing to disguise the glint of purple from his dark eyes. “I would like to borrow Mr. Shayk for a time.”
“Garik.” The word was out before Garik took time to think.
“I remember. My apologies, Garik. I wasn’t sure if Marina . . .” He looked at her and back to Garik. “You are familiar with one another?”
“Yes,” Marina replied, leaving it at that.
“Then, Garik, you will understand that Marina needs to hydrate. I was surprised to see her leading your tour. Marina?” He smiled at her, nodded his head, and clearly dismissed her.
“Of course. Enjoy the rest of your tour, Garik.” She smiled and stepped back. As she walked away, she pulled out her tablet and marked on it, holding it very much as Marisa had held her MicroArt tablet that night on the roof.
“Let’s visit the break area. Meals are always taken on the floor above, but we don’t want you to starve.” Jantzen was ebullient, as if wishing to put his best foot forward. “This way. Very well stocked, even if I prefer regular meals over snacking.”
“If my door’s always locked—”
“I know.” Jantzen grimaced. “But, you understand, this is a research facility, and for now, you’re an unknown. But you have T’Wana and Van assigned to you—”
“Assigned to me?”
“Of course.” The corridor opened up on one side to a large space with tables, chairs, and lounging spaces, a large screen on the wall, and a kitchen area and refrigerator hunkering in one corner.
“To only me?” As what, monitors, overseers, or even guards?
“Yes.” Jantzen’s answer was blunt, and he let his word hang without elaborating. He pulled two canned drinks from the fridge and motioned to a table. He handed one drink to Garik before pulling the tab on his. Once Garik was seated, Jantzen pulled out a chair and seated himself casually.
“Okay?” Garik could wait. Answers were what he wanted.
Jantzen let out a sigh, licked his lips, and took a sip of his drink. He leaned forward and placed both arms on the table, as if about to reveal something important. “This can’t be easy for you—”
“Yah!” The word burst from Garik. “You figured that out? It took you this long? Sheesh! Stupidity fills every corridor in this place.”
“Okay. I deserved that. We deserved that.” Jantzen leaned back, took in a deep breath, and grinned sheepishly. He tapped the table for a moment with his fingers before saying, “I am sorry—”
“Just not enough to let me go.” Garik’s words came out like a fist into a punching bag.
“Some things I can’t control. Some things I can. I can take you on a more exhaustive tour than Marina could. Does that interest you?”
“Maybe. Tell me this, first. You know Marina. Upstairs, Ms. Sunchaser acted like she never heard of her. Is everything here lies?”
“They’re wrong about you.” Jantzen studied Garik out of his purple eyes.
“How?”
“You’re not a failure. I can already see you are becoming exactly what you are meant to be.”
“I’m meant to be seventeen. I’m meant to be a senior at Bay City High next year. I’m meant to be me, Garik, not some monster you lock in a cage.” By then, Garik was furious, and he pictured the cages on Basement Level 5, but he couldn’t say that. It might make it true, and that was too much to stomach right then.
“How about that tour?” Jantzen stood, leaving his unfinished drink on the table. “Maybe some time to cool down will be good for us.”
“Hmph.” Garik refused to reply.
Jantzen looked at him, and as he stepped back to push in his chair, he murmured, “Maybe more than they intend him to be.”
“I heard that,” Garik said, trying to decide if he should like this man or not.
Jantzen paused a moment, as though to soak in something he hadn’t expected. Finally, he grinned. “As I said, my young friend, no way are you a failure. You might be the best one yet. Follow me. I’ve got some things to show you.”
Garik joined the slim, well-tailored man with his tight beard and dark looks, and they stepped out of the break area. The man had clearly whispered his remark, but not quietly enough. Had he intended for Garik to hear? Whatever, he had heard him fine. There, Mr. Hefferly. My secret’s out. I heard every word you said, whether you wanted me to or not.
It didn’t make Garik feel much better, but it was better than nothing, so he guessed it would have to do.
― 6 ―
JANTZEN HEFFERLY’S first stop was at a door flanked by long walls of plate glass. The door boasted the tag, B2-Facilities Mgt. He leaned into the doorknob, faced Garik, and shrugged. “Even I have to report in.” He winked and grinned before opening the door and pushing partially through. “Rachel, I’ve got the new kid with me. Code him in so we don’t get any alarms.”
Garik flicked his eyes down the identical windows with the same identical blinds—all closed—filling the corridor. He couldn’t see who Jantzen was talking with, but he could hear her fine.
“I’ve got it already in the works. Marina had tentatively shifted him to you at the, um, yes, it’s right here, at the break area. He’s been with you since?” Rachel sounded very bright and efficient.
“Yes. If Weston asks, I need to acquaint myself with him, and—” his voice dropped in volume, but not too low for Garik to clearly understand, “—we had an incident earlier. I want to resolve this so Devon, well, it wasn’t Devon’s fault, and he doesn’t deserve the reprimand I suspect is coming.”
“Certainly.” Garik heard the rapid staccato of a keyboard’s rhythmic music. “There. That should give you as much time as you need.”
“Thank you, Rachel.” Jantzen pulled out of the doorway, and without any intervention, the door began to close, giving off the heavy metallic thump, thump of every door in the place when it closed and locked.
Garik had loved the sound when locking up his Street Strider. It was the sweet music of safety and security, of, “I’ll still be here in the morning,” but this was completely different. This metallic thump, thump now sang of abandonment and anger and the tedious existence of people who were no longer free.
“My apologies for excluding you, there.” Jantzen nodded his head down the corridor, and he started forward, slower at first to let Garik catch up. “A little private time to handle a little necessary business. Now we can take the time we need to explore. How is your hand doing?”
“Okay.” His conversation hadn’t been exactly private. Garik had heard every word, but Jantzen’s comment suggested he hadn’t been meant to. He wondered why Devon would be in trouble. Sheesh. Nothing made sense down here.
“If that arm starts to bother you, let me know. You should heal pretty quickly, but you’ve just stepped on the first rung of the ladder. I don’t know what changes are accelerating initially and which will take a while. It’s been a few days since I’ve scanned your file. Devon said you mentioned Amy, and Dr. Jamie said Justin came up in conversation this morning.”
“If you like.” Jantzen moved quickly, and Garik was working to keep up. “Can you slow down? I haven’t eaten lunch, and this is pretty quick.”
“I forgot. Your first real day up and about. I’m guessing that’s part of the reason for the disaster at the climbing wall.” Jantzen cocked his head sideways and cut his eyes Garik’s direction, his words a hot poker as though he wanted to see if any sparks flew.
“Maybe.” Garik shrugged as if it didn’t matter, and he attempted to thrust his hands in his pockets. One went in fine, and the other jammed on the bandages. Flustered, and embarrassed, he curled his bandaged hand at his chest and held the arm with his good one.
“Something else, then?
” They had slowed, but now they approached an elevator, and Jantzen stopped and withdrew his passkey.
“Is that taking us to food?” Garik asked a real question, and he hoped he got a real answer. He was hungry, and he didn’t know if he could find the break area, but he’d be glad to try. That required freedom, though, and Rachel had assigned Jantzen as his jailor.
“Certainly. The cafeteria up on One. You’ll be expected to eat there once we feel you can wander the facility without supervision.” Jantzen slipped in the passkey, the elevator came to life, and he withdrew the key. “After you,” he motioned, when the doors opened.
Without supervision. Garik almost laughed. If you mean when I won’t try to escape, that’ll be never. Still, he was hungry, and he moved into the sumptuously quiet elevator, with its freshly deodorized and purified air. The panel by the door illuminated when he entered. It was so close. He wanted to reach out and touch it, tell it to take him to the lobby, but this didn’t look like the one he had been in that fateful day when Marisa had taken them from the real world above into this warren of rooms and corridors that had trapped him in its spiderweb of lies. It was likely a basement-only elevator. They weren’t apt to let him near one that might lead up into the light of possible escape or recognition by anyone he had known before.
His mind leaped to his hair and to school. He glanced up for the mirror that had been on the ceiling of the elevator that day only to see recessed panels of wood. With the current length of his hair, Bay City High was likely back in session. He wondered if his friends missed him, or if they had made new friends and he would soon be forgotten.
A familiar voice brought him back to the moment.
“Thank you, Dr. Hefferly, for holding the door. Up or down?”
“The cafeteria, so up. You?” Jantzen sounded courteous and patient, as if he knew the man approaching, and he was happy to share his elevator.
Garik wasn’t so happy. He recognized the voice and involuntarily pressed his shoulder to the wall. It was Airman Vang, and he didn’t want to be in this elevator car with him, not now, not tomorrow, not ever.