Dreams in the Tower Part 3

by Vrana, Andrew

  “What are you…?” Mike reached into the pockets of the pants he had been wearing all day and felt his folded-up tab on the left and a small cylinder on the right. He closed his fingers around the object and brought it close to his face so his unfocused eyes could see: it was the bottle of Sobril pills Leutz had given him. Between Carl’s suspicious invitation and the argument with Meredith, Mike had completely forgotten about the experimental sober-up drug in his pocket. He looked up at Diane, mouth agape, and said, “You knew about these. How?”

  Ignoring him, Diane shrugged off her robe, revealing beneath it a T-shirt and skintight shorts that just reached the tops of her knees. She backed onto a bench along the wall and quickly donned a pair of slip-on sneakers. “Follow,” she said, standing up. “And pop one of those things, will you?” Mike took one out of the bottle but didn’t take it yet.

  As Diane walked off toward the living room, Mike turned to look at Carl—but the other man was holding his arm out to indicate Mike should go first. So reluctantly Mike followed Diane. As he stepped from the kitchen into the living room, he noticed that there actually was a slight difference between Diane’s apartment and his own: this one’s windows were in alcoves a few feet deep. This didn’t affect the dimensions of such a large room much, but somehow Mike noticed the slightly smaller size. And he soon found out the reason for this difference. Diane went over to a small hanging tapestry by the nearest window and pulled it back, revealing a metal door painted the same beige color as the walls. She opened the door by sliding it upward, revealing a dark cavity in the wall; somewhere inside, a faint light turned on and Mike saw a ladder on the far wall that disappeared above the doorway. The ladder started about a foot higher than the floor they were standing on and below was nothing but blackness.

  “If you fall,” Diane said, “don’t scream. You may catch yourself on the way down, if you’re lucky. The shaft goes all the way to the fiftieth, we think.”

  Nodding slowly, Mike popped the Sobril in his mouth and chewed, grimacing at the pill’s bitter taste. He watched as Diane pulled herself into the shaft and began her climb, and he waited for the Sobril to take full effect before he dared follow. He had the thought, as his head cleared, that this was insane, that there was no way he was going to go with two now-confirmed enemies of Silte Corp up this secret shaft to wherever it ended up. But Carl was nudging him from behind, and now that his cover was gone (or had never existed, if he understood their brief explanation correctly) he wasn’t exactly safe anymore regardless of whether he went with them or not. He eased himself to the edge, stooping beneath the low door frame, and reached across the void for the ladder.

  After the first few rungs, Mike felt his inebriation giving way to a sensible state of mind. He suddenly felt very apprehensive of this whole thing and pondered going back down and running from the apartment. They wouldn’t do anything to him here; Leutz had been pretty sure of that. But all thought of escape quickly died when Carl began climbing below. Mike looked up but all he could see was Diane’s slim buttocks flexing as she climbed. He looked away awkwardly and kept his eyes on the cold metal rungs his hands grasped, one after another. As they went further away from the glow from Diane’s apartment, dim lights began to turn on one by one over Diane’s head. Mike wasn’t sure how many lights flashed on up above him as he climbed on and on; he didn’t have to count them to know it was a lot.

  “How far does this thing go?” he wondered aloud, beginning to feel a little weakness in his forearms. When nobody answered, he said, “Are we going to the roof?”

  “Be quiet,” Diane hissed from above. “The walls are thin.”

  It wasn’t long, though, before Mike’s question was answered. Diane stopped abruptly and reached a hand over her head, where Mike could now see there was a ceiling. She pulled on a latch and then swung open a door; through it were the stars in a cloudless night sky. After Diane disappeared through the open hatch, Mike scrambled up the last few rungs, pulled himself over the top and found himself standing in a lonely corner of the uppermost roof of the Plaza—behind the helipad, in fact. Wind riffled his hair and fluttered his partially unbuttoned shirt as it moaned languidly around the top of the tower, parting the silence of the air far above the city with a whisper of a howl. He went over to stand beside Diane and, following her dreamy gaze, looked down at the vast array of neon colors that brilliantly shone through the gloom saturating the streets of Dallas. Was this why they brought him here? For the view? The climb had left him too tired to be afraid and now he was starting to get impatient.

  By the time Carl had joined them, Mike decided he’d had enough. “Why did you bring me here?” he demanded. “What do you want from me?”

  “We could kill you, you know,” Carl said, in a perfectly level voice, catching Mike completely off guard. “Make it look like an accident. No one would have any trouble believing poor, drunken Mr. Torres finally had enough of the world and leapt off the roof.” He looked at Mike’s horrified face and laughed.

  “The elevators,” Mike said, backing himself up until his legs hit the raised platform of the helipad. “They have cameras. And guards. People would know I got up here some other way.”

  “Calm down,” Diane said. “And get away from the helipad. It’s a minute till 10:04 and Garrett’s never late.”

  Mike stepped away from the platform but maintained a good amount of distance from the other two, whose eyes were turned upward to the sky. Terrified now, Mike said, in a half-whimper, “Are you going to kill me?” They said nothing, continuing to look up. Mike followed their gaze and saw blinking red and white lights approaching, growing larger and larger as they slowly descended towards the Plaza roof. In another minute, a large helicopter—one of those that had ferried them to and from work before the skyways were finished—touched down on the platform, and the door opened. Standing there, silhouetted from the light inside and waving, was the pilot named Garrett Thurman. Mike suddenly recalled a mysterious message the man had sent him just after he was promoted, congratulating him on the new job before he had even told his wife about it. If all he had heard tonight was true, then things were starting to make more sense.

  “Let’s go,” Diane shouted over the tremendous racket of the blades.

  “We don’t have to force you,” Carl yelled slowly, “but we can. If we need to.”

  What other option did he have but to go with them? He could make a break for the trapdoor, which was still open, and probably start climbing down before they could catch him. But what if in his haste he slipped? He would fall a long way, probably hitting his head several times in the narrow space: certain death, or at least permanent severe injury. He still wasn’t sure Carl and Diane weren’t going to kill him, but he didn’t think they would. He seemed to recall, through the fogginess of alcohol, they had said they wanted him as a friend. In fact, he remembered the pilot, Garrett, telling him something of the same nature on the day all this had started. He would probably be safe if he went—at least for now, for tonight. Somehow he knew, though, that stepping into the helicopter would change his life forever. God damn he needed a drink. Why had he taken that stupid pill?

  Screaming now out of both impatience and necessity, Diane said, “What’s it going to be, Mike?”

  Rather than acknowledge her, Mike set off boldly for the helicopter. He mounted the steps up onto the platform and jogged over to the grinning pilot, who helped him inside and turned to help the other two. Once they were all in, Garrett closed the door. “Didn’t expect y’all so soon,” the pilot said, his gaze lingering on Mike. “Settle in. I’ll get us moving.” He hurried off to the cockpit.

  Carl and Diane chose seats on opposite sides, so Mike was forced to sit next to one or the other. He took a seat next to Carl, who was on the wider side, so Mike could put more space between them. As the helicopter began its wobbly ascent, Garrett came back out and went to sit by Diane. “Scooch over there missy,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “Are we on our way?” Dia
ne asked, smiling at the friendly pilot.

  “We are,” Garrett said. “About twenty minutes with the low-profile route. You know,” he looked at Mike, “we have to make it look like we’re doin’ what we’re supposed to do and give our friends time to cover up what we’re actually up to.”

  “Where are you taking me?” Mike blurted, unable to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

  They all stared at him silently for a while and then Diane said, “To see the product of Silvan’s grand vision. Peering down at bloodstains and bombed-out cars is one thing, but you need to develop a deeper understanding of your complacency—and all of its implications.”

  “You’re sheltered, Mike,” Carl said, his face wooden. “You have no idea how bad things are out there. Silte hired the best of the best to keep order, but all that did was give the violent ones an opposing army. It’s war out there, no matter how the media tries to hide it.”

  “You don’t think I know that?” Mike said defensively.

  “Maybe,” Garrett said, all trace of his jovial attitude gone. “But knowing’s a lot different from understanding.”

  Mike couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so he stayed quiet. Nobody spoke for a long time; in the silence, Mike’s fear of whatever waited at their mystery destination grew into borderline panic. He thought desperately of diving for the door as soon as they were within jumping distance of the ground but realized how pointless this would be if they were landing somewhere where they had friends. No, they had him: the pathetic animal that had followed its captors into the cage. By the time a gentle lurch initiated their descent, his legs had begun twitching anxiously, trying to anticipate the unknown.

  But he didn’t do anything stupid. He sat there as Garrett went to the cockpit and the helicopter eventually touched down and Carl and Diane stood and moved toward the door. Based on the short decent, Mike guessed they had landed on the roof of another building, and now his thought of fleeing seemed even more foolish. The pilot came back out into the cabin and stood by the door, pausing with one hand resting on the handle and the other absently scratching the stubble on his chin.

  “I’ll stay here,” Garrett said. “We may need a quick escape. But remember…” He paused and gave Diane a grave look that was almost comical in its sincerity. “If you get into trouble and we do have to get outa here quick, then we ain’t goin’ back to the Plaza. It’ll be fugitives’ lives from now on.”

  Diane nodded, unshaken.

  “I’m staying too,” Carl said. “Too risky if there’s three of us.”

  “Right.” Diane nodded again. “Well Mike, after you.”

  With a heave from the pilot, the door slid open and Mike’s ears were flooded with the roar of the blades whirling overhead. He stepped carefully down onto one giant leg of the big red ‘H’ painted across a helipad and looked around to gather some clue as to where he was. The building they had landed on was only about two thirds the height of most of the skyscrapers around them. The roof stretched out a long way to the left and right and there were a few similar but somewhat smaller buildings clustered around the one they were on. A university? Or…

  “Hospital,” Diane shouted, inches from his ear. “Come on.”

  She took his arm and led him at a brisk pace to a large set of doors leading into the building. She jammed a hand in her pocket and pulled out a white ID card—something Mike hadn’t used or even seen for years. He was vaguely surprised when there turned out to be a slot on the security panel where Diane swiped the card; he was even more surprised when the doors swung inward to reveal a short hallway, at the end of which were wide white elevator doors. Mike followed her into the hallway, and the doors closed behind them, sealing out the night and the noise of the helicopter. The overhead lights in the hall were pale and dirty. On the left side, a small booth with windows all the way around jutted out from the wall: a security station. But there was no guard. Diane went to the booth and leaned over a screen built into the counter of the security station where people in the hallway could access it.

  “The guard’s out,” Diane said over her shoulder, tap-tapping away on the screen out of Mike’s sight. “He’s one of ours. A lot of people here are. I tell myself it’s because people who work in a hospital really care about the safety and welfare of humanity, but really it’s because a lot of these people remember when a Silte-owned medical holdings company bought a controlling interest in this place and turned their happy hierarchy into a finely-tuned corporate bureaucracy. Old doctors don’t like it when their tenure no longer gets them the biggest, juiciest grant checks.”

  “This is safe, isn’t it?” Mike glanced nervously at a camera mounted above the elevator. “I mean, flying around the city in a helicopter and landing on a hospital roof in the middle of the night isn’t exactly subtle. And what the pilot said—what Garrett said…”

  Finished with whatever she was doing on the screen, Diane turned to face him and said, “Believe me, Mike, it’s all been taken care of. Anyone who checks the log,” she jabbed a thumb back towards the security booth, “will see that we came in on official hospital business—or two people who look exactly like us did. As far as Silte and Guardian are concerned, the real you and I are still in my apartment having that nice meeting about you joining our club of traitors. Really, this is safe. We just like to prepare for any possible outcome, and to have a getaway planned in case we need it.”

  “But…”

  Ignoring him, she turned and made for the elevator, her dark ponytail bobbing against her neck as she walked, matching the rhythm of her impatient gait. Mike could do nothing, now, but follow her and hope that her confidence was well-founded.

  The elevator door opened immediately when Diane hit the call button. He followed her in, silent and morose. When she saw his face she said, “Lighten up, Mike. Remember, if we get caught here it’s only me who’s fucked. You can just tell them you’re spying for Leutz and no doubt she’ll confirm that.”

  “You’re forgetting that the people doing the catching these days are mercenaries.” Mike noticed she pushed the B2 button, the very lowest floor. “It will be hard to explain myself when my brains are on the wall.”

  At that, Diane laughed until the doors closed.

  When the doors slid open again they were in a short hallway almost exactly like the last one, except this one had no security booth and ended in a single light blue door. The door had no handle that Mike could see—only a plain black card-reader, like the kind cheap hotels still used on all their rooms. Diane produced her ID card again as they walked toward the door.

  “Obsolete,” Mike remarked. “And not very secure.”

  “This part of the hospital is old, and they intentionally haven’t renovated it in many years.” She slid her card through the black reader and the door began to slowly swing outward. “Don’t ask me why. All I know is, this is a safe place for our friends to work away from the all-seeing eyes of Silte.”

  Through the door the hallway ended abruptly at a three-way intersection. Diane stopped him just inside the closing door and said, “Before we go on, I need to explain some things.”

  “I’m not stopping you,” said Mike.

  “You’re not dumb, Mike, and you have more official information than me. You know by now this so called ‘mind virus’ is Silvan’s work. What you probably don’t know is its purpose.”

  “To neutralize known enemies,” he said, “and to keep potential enemies too scared to fight.” He hated himself for saying it so calmly and easily, but he had long since overcome the shock.

  “No,” Diane said, prompting him to raise his eyebrows in bemusement. “Though,” she said, “that is what they want you and me to believe. The true purpose is far worse. Sickening. Mike, what I’m about to show you isn’t easy to deal with. It…well, you’ll see. This way.”

  When they were moving again, she led on down the hallway to the right. It was large and white and dimly lit, the kind of dreary hospital corridor where they migh
t stick the patients who probably would never go home. But there did not seem to be any patients here. There were long windows—most of them either dark or shuttered by blinds—that looked into large rooms. The only lights outside the hallway came from a few rooms here and there with glass walls that Mike was pretty sure were labs; occasionally he glimpsed the back of a white lab coat as someone leaned over some piece of equipment or another. Mike couldn’t help but admire their drive, being in here well after 10 p.m., making those last few calculations before they relented and got some sleep. He tried to remember the last time he had been that eager to get his work done—probably not since his days at Silvan Ventures, back when he was still trying to display his value and get that next little promotion on his way to the top. But these people were different. They were in here working overtime trying to save humanity from the evil corporate empire, weren’t they? Looking for a cure to Silvan’s plague? Mike could guess that much without having to have Diane tell him. These people were different from him, and yet somehow the same.

  “It hasn’t been easy, reverse engineering OpenLife’s antiviral drug,” Diane said, confirming what Mike had guessed. “They’ve been at it for as long as I’ve been coming here.”

  “Antiviral? You mean like a cure?”

  “Yes.” She slowed her pace and let Mike move up beside her. The hospital—every hospital under Silte control—received a very limited batch for testing and training. If we could only figure out how to make the drug ourselves, we could preempt their next move.”

  “What’s the next move?”

  She looked over at him somberly but didn’t answer. Then she turned away and said, “These days, the idea of a monopoly is almost absurd. If one corporation controls a market, there will always be two or three other multinational conglomerates with the money and resources to move in and steal market shares. With that simple fact, monopolizing an entire economy is nothing more than a fool’s dream.” They finally reached the end of the hallway and took another right into a similar but much shorter, narrower one. “That is,” she said, “unless you can give up on controlling the market and instead control the buyer.”