by Teri Terry
I’m cold with fear inside, but here, in his world, Gecko is warm next to me.
‘What’s happening?’ he asks.
‘I think they’re preparing me for some sort of surgery. I’ve got to get out of there. I’m going to have to unplug.’
‘Wait. Link grids with me.’
‘Won’t it tip them off if we use our Implant grids?’
‘No. Not that way. Link silver grids.’
Only if you really trust somebody, Marina said. He reaches a hand to mine, holds it. I’ve fought, inside, for so long, against trusting anyone, let alone Gecko. A deluded kidnapper, or a friend? Trust your intuition, Luna.
A friend.
I’m scared, but I nod. ‘Yes. Do it.’
Our eyes stay open and on each other in the VeeDub, not closed like with Marina. My silver grid is there, then his. They come close together, and lock. He smiles, and I both see him smile and feel his lips smiling. He slips his arms around me, and I feel his body and am his body, curving against mine – a sensory overload that threatens to drown every other thought.
This is nice, he thinks, his words an understatement, his feelings echoing mine.
Stop distracting me. Can you see out of my real eyes?
Let’s try.
I close my virtual eyes, and open the others a slit.
Back with my body one of the techs is looking at a screen. ‘Monitor her until the next shift. All the surgical staff are exhausted; I don’t want to risk any mistakes with this one. She’s rather interesting,’ Rafferty says. He and the other tech leave. The remaining tech leans over some equipment, facing the other way. I open my eyes wider, risk a little head movement and look around.
Get out of there, Luna. Get out of there, now. Panic runs all through Gecko: fear for me, and old fear, remembered fear? But as soon as I recognise it, it withdraws. Pain: Gecko’s.
No time for that now, he thinks. Get out of there now while there’ s only one of them.
I’m going to have to unplug. We’ll lose connection.
Gecko gives me the closest, most intimate hug imaginable. Every bit of me returns it.
He laughs low, inside. I can imagine closer and more intimate. Go.
I unplug from the PIP, keeping movement to a minimum. Something beeps on a monitor, the tech rushes to it. While his back is turned I reach to undo the straps holding me on the trolley, but someone is still here, inside me.
Gecko? You’re still with me!
Yes. Relief – his and mine – caresses my mind.
What is even stranger is that you’re still here. He holds my other hand warm against his heart in the VeeDub. Th-thump, th-thump. It beats under my fingers.
I’m still there? Confusion washes over me.
Figure it out later.
Right. I tense muscles, ready to jump off this thing and run for the door.
No. He’ll raise the alarm too quickly. Let me.
I see what he wants me to do. Somehow I let myself relax enough that Gecko can take control of my body. We spring off the trolley. The tech turns around, surprise on his face that soon disappears when we punch him, just so. He collapses, unconscious.
I wince, holding one hand with the other. Good one. Maybe let me take over now?
Take his security pass. Might come in handy.
Gecko’s control eases, and I kneel, slip the pass out of the plastic case, turn it around so it isn’t obvious it’s missing.
Nice touch. Now push him out of sight of the door.
He’s heavy, but somehow I manage to drag him around behind a bank of monitors.
Good. Now go, go!
I rip the door open, and run. Where is there to go? This whole place is PareCo. Instinct says to go up to the above ground levels and try to get out, but is that what they’d expect me to do once they realise I’m missing?
I pause, try another door. It’s locked, but a swipe of the stolen security pass and it opens. It leads to a dimly lit hall, with many doors; maybe there will be a quiet place to hide and think about what to do next. I start down the hall, and Gecko’s emotions jolt.
Wait. I know this place. Pain.
Is your body here? If I can unplug you, maybe we can get out of here together.
I…I don’t know.
If you can’t tell me, can you take me there?
I’ll try.
It’s deathly quiet. Gecko is back in control; we walk, jerkily. Every step is pain. Not in my body, but in his hidden places. I cradle him, inside.
He stops, and starts. I stay silent, somehow knowing this is the right thing to do. Back in the VeeDub he’s shaking and my arms are around him tighter.
Doors. There are numbers on the doors.
429.
428.
427.
We stop.
Gecko shudders inside, lets go of control of my body. I reach a hand to the door, but it’s locked. I try a swipe of the security pass; it doesn’t work. Whatever is in here, that tech wasn’t cleared to get in.
We assess the door: gleaming solid metal, with an electronic locking system. It’s a dead end. We’ll never break that down, Gecko thinks.
I stare at the door. There must be a way. If we can’t unlock it or break it down, we have to gain access to PareCo systems and hack it open, but how? And then it hits me.
Wait. I think there is a way!
Tell me.
I show him the channel I found before, between my Implant and PareCo. Part of my beta implant, there to monitor and track. I disabled those functions but the channel is still there. And it runs two ways.
This is something new.
They’ve been doing experiments on me – with drug feeds. I show him what I’d found. They’ve been using it to monitor their experiments.
He’s angry.
Can we use it in reverse, to gain access to PareCo and hack the door open?
He pauses; assesses the channel and links. I think so. But then they’ll know where you are. There are alarms. I don’t want anything to happen to you, Luna.
Like beyond the current mess I’m in? There’s no other way. Let’s do it.
With our silver grids linked, hacking into the PareCo security system through their channel is relatively easy. Red herrings first, Gecko says, and hacks alarms in dozens of places around the entire Centre so they all go off at once. That should keep them busy.
Then we focus on door 427. The lock springs open, and Gecko flinches.
Gecko? Are you all right?
Gecko shakes his head no in the VeeDub. ‘Do it, anyway,’ he murmurs into my hair. Here he is motionless and frozen, a pain-filled presence hiding in my mind. I push the door open.
It’s a lab. White. Sterile. There’s a gentle hum of equipment. I walk in. Gecko? He’s silent.
There’s a huge bench in the middle with all sorts of wires and tubes and stuff going every which way. They lead from a central point to the four corners of the room, to more equipment. All of it is like nothing I’ve ever seen before.
What is it?
No answer.
I examine the equipment, both through my eyes and our linked grid. The central station is almost like a modified PIP life support. It feeds nutrients and chemicals, drugs, lots of it stuff I’m not familiar with, and all of it way, way more complicated than a PIP. To four tanks.
Biological support tanks?
Inside – no.
I recoil, stomach rising inside.
No.
Is it what I thought? Gecko is back in my mind, strangely calm.
He pulls me to the one in the back left corner. There’s a viewing screen; my fingers move with his volition, tap at it. And together we see it – a grey mass, bathed in fluids, linked and fed by t
he central support. Linked into PareCo systems.
Is it…is it…
Yep. That’s me, Luna. Or what’s left of me. A brain in a Think Tank. Aren’t I gorgeous? I think unplugging me isn’t going to be quite like you thought.
45
Our link is suddenly broken. Is it the shock? Gecko is gone, and not only that, without the link I’m completely here now – not in the VeeDub any more. Frantic, I search for him inside, but nothing.
Tears are running down my face. I sit on the cold hard floor, arms wrapped around myself. Is this what happens to all the interns? Do they train us up in world manipulation, separate us from our bodies, and trap us in a game world to run…forever?
Has this happened to Hex, too? Is he in a tank in another one of these rooms, along with all the other interns in his group? I try to remember them, and can only get some of their faces and names linked together.
And my group: Marina, Sparky, all the others. Are we next?
I have to get word of what they’re doing here out. I have to. This has to be stopped.
Tempo will know what to do. I need to find a PIP, and do it now. They’ll still be busily checking all those alarms we set off, but sooner or later, they’ll make it to this one.
Pull yourself together, Luna.
I wipe my face on my sleeves. Stand up. I push the door open a crack, and peer through. The hall is, as before, dimly lit, silent. I guess the occupants of these rooms don’t need a lot of lighting.
I move as quick as silence allows to the end of the hall, where a door leads to a junction. There are stairs ahead, and doors to the left and right. Which way now? The left door is the one I came through to get here. I try the right one. It’s locked, but a swipe of the staff ID, and it opens.
It leads to a large open room, with some sort of hulking technical equipment lined up in rows, and a massive lift on the opposite wall. I start to walk along a row, then hear voices in the far corner. I duck down behind one of the pieces of equipment. That’s when I focus on it closer, and almost stop breathing.
No. It couldn’t be. Could it? It’s a tank? I glance around me. There is row after row of gleaming tanks, just like this one – and they’re all biological support tanks. Not like Gecko’s Think Tank. They’re bigger, much bigger.
I should get out of here before someone sees me, but suspicion and dread are trickling through my gut. I have to know what is inside these tanks.
Footsteps echo across the floor. I scrunch down further, and risk a look down a row. There are two techs; their backs are towards me as they walk towards the lift. They reach it just as the lift doors open. They pull some of the tanks into it, and get in with them. The doors shut. The numbers start changing; it is going up.
Am I alone in here now? I stay very still, and listen. One minute, two – the only sound is my heart beating.
I move towards one of the tanks. I swallow; my head is light. I tap the view screen, and struggle to make myself focus. Recoil when I see what is inside.
A body.
My feet want to run, but I rotate the view, and the face, the eyes, are all still there – the room spins when I recognise him. It’s Zippy, from Hex’s group. The back of his skull is missing; brain removed. He’s all carefully hooked up, heart still beating, lungs still breathing. Kept alive without a brain. His eyes blink and I almost scream.
I stagger backwards into another tank, and jump forwards into yet another. Tanks, surrounded by tanks. All with…bodies? Without brains? Are they alive, or are they dead? Panic is rising inside. There are more of them than just Hex’s group, many more. Were they all interns? Is this some sort of transplant bank; do they wait here until they’re needed, then disappear into that lift?
There is a whirring sound. The lift – it’s coming back down. The doors will open. I dash blindly across the room, out a door on the other side.
I’m not trying to be quiet any more. I’m running. It registers that this isn’t part of the hospital. The hall looks like the one our rooms are in, but more lived in – pictures on walls, shoes in front of doors. I slow, stop. Try to control my breathing, and think.
Is this staff housing? It’s very quiet. The surgical staff are all exhausted, Rafferty had said. Have they been busily separating Hex’s graduation class from their brains?
Taking more care to be quiet now, I creep down the hall. I continue past silent doors, then a dining hall, and – bingo. A recreation room.
And there they are, along the back wall: a row of PIPs. Some of them are occupied, with a red light over the door. Playing games while they sleep?
I find one that is green.
The door is locked, but I put the staff card in the slot – beep. It opens. Fingers crossed they haven’t found him yet, or noticed his card is missing. But best not chance it. I access my silver grid, use the channel to PareCo to find this PIP, and scramble the ID code. Maybe that’ll stop them from tracing it later. Just in case it doesn’t work, I put a pingback on the general security logs. Anything unusual, and it will ping an alert to me.
The ANDs I took before must have worn off by now. I plug in, and dive out of my hallway and into the void so fast that the nausea doesn’t have time to hit.
Tempo first. In case anything happens to me, I have to tell her what is going on here. I’m sorry, Gecko: I’ll be there soon.
I call the silver arrows, start to follow them, and then—
‘Luna?’ Hex’s voice. Via my Implant. But it’s still off…?
I can’t not answer. I can’t. ‘Hex?’ He appears in front of me.
Tears rise in my eyes. ‘Are you…have you…’ My voice trails away; I can’t make myself ask the question. Are you missing something, like, say, a body? Sounds harsh.
I force myself to keep walking, following the silver arrows to Tempo.
‘Luna, are you all right? I had to commit a mighty hack to get around your Implant disabling and bring it back online.’
I’m warmed that he sounds impossibly smug, like he usually does. Just the same. It helps me try again.
‘Hex, what are you?’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Let’s see: an impossibly gifted Hacker. Extraordinarily handsome.’
‘OK, given, and given. But where are you? The rest of you?’
His face is serious now. ‘Ah. So you’ve worked it out, have you? What Think Tanks really are?’
‘Has it…are you…’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, Hex.’
‘Don’t look so appalled. It’s the best thing ever. Think about it, Luna. It’s like you control your entire world, forever. If you’re trusted like I am you’re not trapped in one world; you can roam the Gateway and do what you like. Forever.’
‘Forever?’
‘Sure. You live forever; you control as many worlds as you can manage. What’s not to like?’
‘You mean you wanted this?’
‘Of course. Who wouldn’t? Luna, this is a way to move beyond physical limits, to become more.’
I shake my head, still walking, still following the arrows: I see Tempo in the distance. ‘I’ve got to go, Hex. Bye.’ I disconnect.
Tempo waves; Crystal is with her. I wipe my tears away. It is time to be tough.
They start to say hello; I interrupt. ‘Listen up. I’ve found out what happens at Inaccessible Island, what happens to the interns.’ I explain it all, holding nothing back. Wanting to reach out to Crystal when I tell them about Gecko, but as if she knows my hand wants to creep up and find hers, she shakes her head, moves away.
Tempo nods. Not surprised? Somehow, she knew. So why did she need me to come here as a spy – to confirm suspicions?
Crystal’s eyes are both bright and hard, like meltwater on ice.
‘Is it legal if they consent?’ I ask.
&nbs
p; ‘No. Completely prohibited under NUN law,’ Tempo says. ‘Though there are jurisdictional issues on Inac.’
‘Why would anyone consent?’ The horror on Crystal’s face echoes my own.
‘You can live forever. In virtual.’ Like Hex, I add silently.
Hex, who hacked my Implant to call. Hex, who said he is trusted by PareCo…? Did answering him make me traceable? The last time we spoke, I told him my suspicions about PareCo. Is that why Rafferty moved my surgery up?
How could I be so stupid! I curse inside, and look around us. While we’ve been talking, the flickering void lights have decreased without my noticing.
‘We’re in trouble,’ I say. And it’s not just the lights – the winds of the void are dying. This isn’t void – this is becoming less than void. True emptiness.
‘It’s a trap,’ Tempo says. ‘Quick, Luna, spin. Spin before the silver is completely gone.’
I’ve started before she’s finished the sentence: spinning, arms and hands outstretched over my head. There is so little silver left. I spin, and spin, and call it to me, bit by bit. The silver in my hands grows until it is bright.
‘Don’t collapse it,’ Tempo calls out to me, her voice feeling light and distant. ‘When you have enough, thrust it out.’
I spin faster, and want to take in more and more, not throw it away – but her voice is insistent.
Reluctantly, I let go. It spins out in a bright arc, and connects with something – I don’t know what. For a second it is bright, defined by the silver – a sphere all around us. It’s holding?
Crystal flings bolts of ice at the edges and the whole thing shatters.
We run, out into the void. Normal void.
‘Listen to me, Luna. Go to the MD Gateway. Spin and collapse the Gateway – it’s linked to all of the PareCo worlds. It will destroy them.’
‘What about the Council of Scientists? What did Media say to do?’
‘There’s no time to go to COS over this. You have to do it now.’
‘It will destroy the PareCo worlds? All of them?’
‘It’s the only way. The only way to stop them. Crystal? Go with her. Defend if necessary.’