Getting back

by William Dietrich

  Daniel sat without expression. He'd heard this a thousand times.

  "And why this success? Because United Corporations has allowed market forces to achieve their potential. Yes, there are a lot of rules, but in a planet still gaining a hundred million new inhabitants every year, those rules allow all of us to live in enlightened harmony under the Singapore Model. You can't argue with that kind of contentment."

  "It's so perfect it's boring."

  "That's what you don't understand, Mr. Dyson. That's why you feel unchallenged. It's not perfect! Perfection is an ever-receding goal! Our lives can never be boring because we're always in pursuit of unobtainable perfection! Sustained challenge! Under United Corporations, things are always getting better, all the time- but always can get better still."

  "Do you really believe that, sir?"

  "Believe in belief, Dyson. That's the key." His look softened. "I'm not deaf to your pleas for a challenge, you know. I want to channel your ambition. I want my employees to be where they belong. So I want you to think seriously about your future. I want you to be alert to new opportunities. There may be a way to tap your energies, who knows? But first you have to prove you can meet the expectations of our work environment here."

  "And if I can't?"

  "United Corporations has the right job, in the right place, for everyone." The threat was clear. "It's time to grow up."

  The reprimand gnawed at Daniel the rest of the day. It confirmed what he already knew, that his career was going nowhere. Grow up? He felt sometimes that he was the only grown-up in a pyramid of obedient children. Yet he'd trapped himself in a pointless strategy of mild rebellion that accomplished nothing except to keep him from rising above Level 31. There was a very real chance Cox could choose to send him down for insubordination and poor performance, at which time he'd become a pariah to whatever level had to take him in. The Mona Pietris of this world would regard him as toxic waste.

  Worse than this gloomy review of his prospects was his suspicion of betrayal by Raven. Had she tattled on his hacking boast? If not, the timing of his section leader's lecture was remarkably coincidental. If so, why? Because he hadn't jumped at the chance to vacation in a continent once ravaged by plague? Ridiculous. Yet doubt built on doubt. Was it mere coincidence that he'd met a lone, pretty woman out running in the dimness of predawn, so incongruous and enigmatic? Everything about her seemed so different from other women he had known: challenging, independent, mysterious, like a… rebel. A priestess. A spy.

  To spy on what? Daniel Dyson, low-level key clicker in one of a million ant nests of capitalism? The man on a path to nowhere? It was absurd. Spies are supposed to seduce their victims, not dismiss them in an underground tunnel. Computer files had been erased to the electronic waste bin with more ceremony than he'd been dumped by Raven. She'd probably already forgotten his existence.

  He'd not forgotten her, however. She was a misfit and argumentative, but then so was he. Accordingly, he was intrigued by her. No other woman he'd met questioned so much. He'd believed for a moment that they felt the same things, shared the same longings. The fact she'd seemed to conclude otherwise had left him all the more determined to prove it to her.

  He'd once thought he had all the time and all the women in the world. Not that he was particularly successful at romantic conquest, but rather that romantic possibility seemed theoretically inexhaustible. There were six billion women! He looked for flaws because he was naive enough to expect perfection. And so when he fell in love with a woman named Katrina who'd subsequently proven challenging in her eccentricities, he'd let her go. He'd been too proud to risk failure by trying to win her over. Too arrogant to accept her faults.

  She'd haunted him for the next three years.

  Now he had that same sense of puzzled excitement again. As if he knew Raven. One sojourn in a glorified sewer pipe and she'd brought back that same rush of unstable desire. An echo of pained longing. And now the reprimand had linked them again, right?

  You idiot, he kept repeating to himself. Leave her alone.

  The admonition did no good. He walked after work to clear his head of her and yet the city seemed vacuous. The incessant pop songs of the cafes and arcades seemed annoyingly repetitious. The iridescent avenues, ablaze from shows and pleasure palaces, seemed like a deliberate distraction from whatever he was truly straining to see. He couldn't decide what to eat from the food court choices, where ever more inventive spicing had so exhausted his palate that he could taste nothing at all. He finally retreated to his apartment and scanned eight minutes of entertainment listings, finding nothing that engaged either his mind or his emotions. He had nowhere to go, nothing to do, no one he wanted to see. Except her. Had she betrayed him?

  He sat on his terrace and watched the artificial suns of advertisers rise into the dark sky once more as he chewed on a Ready-Meal. Life was easy if you simply went along, he conceded. Work was usually an undemanding set of rote motions, his pay was adequate for all but the silliest luxuries, and entertainment could be as all-consuming as one wished. Other people lived for baseball or theater or console games and seemed content. Why couldn't he? Why did he do?

  Damn her. It was necessary to find her for his own peace of mind. He'd put it to her plainly: did you rat on me? She'd deny it. He'd ask for a meeting to clear the air. If she showed, it would be excuse enough to…

  He didn't even know her last name. Yeah, you know what you were thinking with.

  He went to his terminal and sat for a moment, drumming his fingers in frustration. What was the name of her vacation company? Outback Adventure? He ran computer searches for it and found nothing, which was strange. Had it all been a lie?

  He ran searches under her name. Raven. He turned up ornithology texts and Native American legends, but no address or link. Good grief. And he was contemplating mucking about with truth cookies? He was a humbled hacker, his electronic trail at Microcore embarrassingly plain. An amateur in an age when privacy consultants made millions.

  So it was decision time. How serious was he? Did he really care?

  Of course he did. It was a challenge now. It wasn't boring, like Microcore. He called Fitzroy. The one-time cop had the pals, the codes, and an e-vault full of passwords. But it would cost Daniel a thousand dollars, a day's wages, to get a lead on a woman who had rejected him. Foolish, he knew.

  Dammit though, he wanted to confront her. He wanted to know.

  "Yeah?" Fitzroy's grizzled head, swollen to giant dimension on Daniel's vid-wall, popped into view. Christ, the man was ugly at that resolution. Bagged, rheumy eyes, sallow skin, veined nose. Nobody had to be homely anymore: why didn't the guy get a laser-lift? Because he lived in his machine, not the world: a cyber hermit. It was the one place he had power, his own personal heaven.

  "I need something."

  "Hold on." The screen fuzzed, came back. Fitzroy had switched on his scrambler. "Yeah?"

  "A woman."

  "What a surprise. Geez, I've never heard that one before."

  "I've got a first name and some tourist outfit she says she might sign on with, but that's all. I need their numbers. Can you get it?"

  The private detective snorted. "That's it?"

  "If it's easy, maybe you can give me a discount."

  "Fuck that. Give me what you got."

  "Her name's Raven."

  "Raven? What the hell kind of astral handle is that? She a fucking Indian or something?"

  "No. Maybe. I don't know, what does it matter?"

  "You couldn't get her last name?"

  "It didn't come up."

  "Gotcha. Well, what's her company? Where does she live?"

  "I don't know. I first ran into her in Calabria and met her later at Pitney Tube."

  "Geez. Either the shortest relationship in history or you move quicker, with less talk, than anybody I've heard of. You don't know anything about her?"

  "If I knew anything I wouldn't need you. Look, I may be getting jacked around here- I'm suspicious
of her- so's there's a company I want you to check out. Called GeneChem. Heard of it?"

  "Spell it. There's only about fifty million fucking gene-soft-micro-tech bullshit companies out there by now, all of them farting vaporware and DNA that doesn't work. I wish they'd go back to vanity names you can remember. Like Chrysler. Or Kellogg. What was wrong with that? Mine is Fitzroy Investigations. Simple. Honest. None of this net-web-splice-tel crap, you know?"

  "Right." Daniel spelled it. "Now, this Raven says she's going on a trip with a company whose name you'll like. Simple. Honest. Outback Adventure."

  "Outdoor Adventure? This is, what, swing sets? Pickle ball?"

  "Outback, not outdoor. Adventure travel."

  "Oh yeah, right. Bugs and dirt. Jesus, people are stupid. That's another five hundred."

  "Why can't I ever get a discount, Fitzroy?"

  "Because I have to eat." He clicked off.

  Daniel paced, straightening up. He was as neat at home as he was untidy at the office. The company shrink would have a field day with that one. After an hour there was a chime and the detective was back on his screen.

  "I don't see the transfer in my account yet."

  "I wanted to make sure you could get the stuff. That was a thousand?"

  "Fifteen hundred, Einstein."

  "Whatever." He clicked some commands. "It should be there."

  He saw Fitzroy glance away, then back. "Nobody wants to pay their fucking bills."

  "What you got?"

  "The only thing in our favor is the unusual first name. There's just a few of them so I could eliminate by age, location, occupation, no possible interest in outdoor adventure- that kind of thing."

  "And?"

  "And this is some broad you're stalking, if I got the right one. Fancy name, fancy address. She even looks good on her ident-screen. This the one?"

  Raven even took a good license picture. "That's her. The last name?"

  "DeCarlo. Lah-de-dah-dah. De-Carrrr-lo. My, my. I don't think you can afford this one, newbie."

  "She's actually a cheap date."

  "Cost you fifteen hundred this night, Romeo. Listen, I got her number. And her address. You want that?"

  "Of course."

  Fitzroy blanked out and the screen flickered with the information. Daniel printed it out and destroyed the file and transmission record. He was in enough hot water for privacy violations already. Paper you could burn, eat, shred. Bytes were forever.

  The detective came into view again. "And the adventure company?" Daniel asked him.

  "That one's odd. No open-door web address, no ad, no listed number. Pretty tough to buy from."

  "So I get a refund?"

  "You gotta be kidding. I found 'em- through an industrial link to export firms. They've got a keyworded web entry, encryption, a bunch of other bullshit."

  "Export firm? What does that mean?"

  "A kink in your romance?"

  "You can't kink what you don't have. But maybe this woman is being conned; she thinks it's a vacation outfit. You sure you got the right company?"

  Fitzroy laughed. "If you got the right name. Maybe they put airholes in their shipping containers!"

  "Can I get in?"

  The detective shook his head. "The site is invitation only. You need the password, the encrypted entry code, and it's all proprietary. Maybe this broad knows it." His grin was a leer. "For fifteen hundred bucks, she'd better know something."

  CHAPTER SIX

  "You found me."

  There was no surprise in Raven's voice, no delight, no disapproval. It was rather a flat statement over the vidphone, her face on the monitor displaying a cool perusal of his own. It was as if she'd expected to hear from him again.

  "I need to see you."

  "Are you sure that's wise?"

  "We need to talk."

  "Why?"

  He could accuse her of getting him into trouble at Microcore, but suspected she'd simply hang up. "It's about this company you said you might go with. Outback Adventure. There's something funny about it."

  Her look was wary. "What do you mean?"

  "It's not even a regular company, I think."

  "You've talked to them?"

  "No. But I asked about it and it's not listed in any regular- "

  "There's a reason for that."

  "What reason?"

  "You have to ask them."

  "I can't even figure out how to reach them."

  "You need a code."

  He was puzzled. "But that doesn't make sense for a company trying to attract customers."

  "That's not what they're trying to do."

  "They don't need customers?"

  "Their customers need them."

  What the hell did that mean? "Listen, Raven, what do you really know about this outfit?"

  "It changes lives, Daniel."

  "How?"

  She said nothing.

  "Please see me," he asked again. "I don't want you to get hurt by signing on with the wrong group."

  "I told you I could take care of myself."

  "Please. I need to talk with you."

  "About what?"

  "About…" us, he wanted to say. "About the Outback."

  She looked at him gravely, evaluating again. "If you're sure. I thought you didn't like the idea of Australia."

  "You told me I didn't know what I liked."

  "I tried to make you think. Now you've found me. It's happening as it's supposed to. So I'll talk to you again about it, if you insist. But it's your idea, not mine."

  "I've got your address, I could- "

  "No." She shook her head decisively. "I'll meet you… I'll meet you at Cordoba Mall. A coffee place, Anthony's. I want to explain the situation so you don't make a mistake. Okay?"

  It was something. "Tomorrow at eight?"

  "Tomorrow at eight. Bring a sense of adventure."

  He half expected her not to show up. Instead she came and was prettier than ever. Raven was wearing a dark dress with a floral print and gold jewelry set off against her black hair, and the dress caressed her in a way to confirm his speculation about her figure. The effect was a quiet elegance completely at odds with the jumpsuit she'd worn for underground exploring. She was like a woman who'd gone from camping to cocktails. She ordered black coffee, declining his invitation for a light dinner or dessert, and eyed him speculatively. She was subdued, as if undecided about something. Him, he supposed. Her smile was completely false.

  "Thanks for coming," he said politely.

  "You must have made an effort to find me," she observed as the waitress left. "I didn't leave you much to go on. I didn't think you'd want to see me again and I wanted to give you an excuse not to."

  "Why didn't you think I would want to see you again?"

  "I wasn't at my best in the tunnels. I get moody sometimes. I don't blame people if they're put off by it. It's just the way I am. A loner."

  "I wasn't put off. I thought you were interesting. I just wasn't sure you liked me."

  She was saved from having to answer immediately by the arrival of their coffee. She spooned some sugar into hers, stirring it thoughtfully, and then looked up at him. "I like you, Daniel," she finally allowed. "But it makes me uncomfortable, frankly, that I like you. I don't like everyone I meet."

  "Oh." He was uncertain how to respond to this. "But then I got in trouble at work," he finally continued. "About some of the things I told you about."

  She shrugged. If she'd betrayed his confidence she didn't want to admit it.

  "It got me thinking," he went on, watching her. "I'm not really happy at my job. They're not happy with me. Maybe I need a break. So I got curious about this Australian thing you mentioned, this Outback Adventure. I've never heard anything about treks like that. I wonder if it's even true. So I tried to find them and couldn't. They're not easy to find."

  "I know." She looked at him speculatively. "I mentioned it because I thought you might be interested, but then as we talked I changed my m
ind. I doubt it's for you."

  "But it is for you?"

  "Not necessarily. They probably wouldn't pick me, either."

  "Pick you?"

  She avoided his eyes again, playing with her coffee spoon. "I told you it's not like the usual adventure company. It's limited entry, a privilege. You have to find them, and apply, and then they don't take everyone. It's very exclusive."

  "But how do people find them?"

  She shrugged. "Through an acquaintance." She was careful not to say "friend," he noticed. "Sometimes people just stumble across it, the ones looking for something. Sometimes the company finds you. It pops up on your screen."

  "That's weird, isn't it?"

  She took a sip. "Is it? They seem to find the right people to go."

  "Outback Adventure is listed as an export company, not a tourism outfit."

  She shrugged.

  "How do you know they're even legitimate?"

  "I've talked with them."

  "And?"

  "It's exciting, Daniel. Life-changing. They just have to keep a lid on information about the situation in Australia. That secret part adds a thrill."

  "But not for me."

  She sighed. "That's for you to decide, isn't it? I'm just trying to… not waste your time." Raven glanced out at the mall for a moment, then returned her gaze to him.

  "Why wouldn't I fit?"

  "Because you're confused. Because you have to be absolutely certain you belong there. It's a very rugged experience. Maybe you're better at adjusting to the city than you think, even if you don't realize it right now. My advice is not to give up on Microcore. It's a good company. They know what they're doing."

  "But I'm not adjusted. It's always the sideways view, like we talked about."

  She glanced out the cafe again. Did she have some boyfriend waiting out there? Her distraction irritated him. "Then call them up if you want."

  "I can't. It's encrypted."

  "I know. There's a password. Or words."

  "Can I get them?"

  She shifted restlessly. "I'm only hesitating because I don't want to mislead you. It's dangerous, difficult."