by Dan Marshall
Adam, Aria, and Dej agreed to work on cracking LaMont’s encrypted data, and Aria made a note to double check the measurements before beginning work on printing a Lightcap replica. They decided it would be best to wait until the next post-shift meeting in three weeks’ time, in case Aria didn’t come to her senses quickly enough to drop the device while lowering it to the table. This gave them extra time to make contingency plans.
Adam felt excited as he made his way home with Dej’s new point-to-point messaging code and terabytes of LaMont’s encrypted data loaded on his dome. He walked quickly from Aria’s neighborhood and caught the subway, the trip back to his flat full of worry and exhilaration, glad to finally feel the promise of answers, even if those answers meant throwing away everything he had worked to achieve. Adam had spent years at Adaptech working toward making a name for himself, but if LaMont and his fellow administrators could get rid of Damen, what would stop them from doing the same to him or anyone else on his team?
Adam got home well past dark and stumbled through his door, shaking his frost-bitten limbs to move his blood. He changed out of his work clothes into warm wool pants and a long sleeve cotton shirt, then brushed his teeth. He had just finished when there was a quiet knock at the door. Hana looked up at him and smiled when he opened the door, her expression one of apology. After their conflicts, she would usually be upset for a day or two, then request or grant forgiveness, depending on the situation.
She leaned in, kissed Adam on the cheek, and half whispered, “Hi. I thought I heard you come home. I just wanted to see you and apologize for getting upset a couple of days ago. It’s not my place to push or to pry, and I definitely don’t want to get you in trouble.” Adam invited her in, and she sat down on his sofa. “Speaking of which,” she continued, “you’re home awfully late. Long day at the office?” This time her question seemed to hold nothing more than casual interest, as if making conversation.
Adam was caught by surprise. He had expected Hana to tell him she had forgiven him, not to apologize for her actions. He said, “It’s no big deal. I’m not angry or anything. I just have to be mindful of staying within the bounds of my work agreements. I didn’t have a long day at the office, I just went out after work.” He sat down beside her on the couch.
“Were you with someone? Where’d you go?” she asked. This disturbed him.
“I went out for a drink with Dej,” he said, doing his best to sound unconcerned, knowing a lie was better than the truth. He could not tell her what they had talked about, but she had shown signs of jealousy in the past, so Adam thought it best to leave out any mention of Aria. Dej was also one of the few people whose name she knew. Everyone knew Dej.
Adam was surprised she didn’t push it further. Instead she asked, “Oh, and were you home earlier today? I thought I heard you, but when I came over no one was here.”
“Nope, wasn’t me,” Adam replied. He momentarily wondered if someone had actually been in his apartment earlier, but he dismissed the possibility. She seemed to believe him. They laid down together and Hana drifted off to a quiet sleep. Adam lay awake, his nose still tickled by the musky scent in his apartment, wondering what he had got himself into.
Groggy, sleep-filled eyes opened. Was Hana here last night? Adam wondered. He had lost track of time. He reached over and felt nothing but cold sheets. He struggled to recall the sequence of events making up the past several weeks, but each cycle of night and day blurred into the next, like cream stirred into coffee. Speaking of coffee, Adam thought as he got out of bed, rubbing his face and eyes.
Another morning trek began with an elevator ride down to the ground floor, Adam’s feet pushed forward step by step with motivation which seemed to come from nowhere and lasted just long enough to bring him to the subway car. The slow back and forth rocking of the car threatened to lull him back to sleep. Just as Adam’s eyes were about to succumb to gravity, the subway car screeched to a long, slow halt. His stop and another day at work lay ahead of him.
The conspiratorial agreement he had made with Aria and Dej caused him tremendous anxiety, though they hadn’t yet done anything. Adam’s notetab was still running at home, as it had been for the past several days, cycling through millions of different combinations of words, letters, and phrases in an attempt to crack the password needed to decrypt LaMont’s data, but the code remained unbroken.
Dej’s hidden messaging system had provided novel pleasure at first, but this soon wore off as the threesome quickly found their conversation topics exhausted. None of them cared to emulate the news nodes by reporting nothing at all. The knowledge the system existed was still a comfort, though, and gave Adam the solace of knowing he was not alone.
As Adam entered room 4C, he was greeted by the gazes of his entire team. His eyes immediately went to Aria and Dej. They gave him no special greeting, no secret winks or knowing nods. They barely acknowledged him. Aria’s eyes lifted from her notetab screen, quick enough to miss had he not been paying attention. Dej gave a brief smile, and then was back to his animated conversation with Jared Tinge about sports, including insults traded on the nature of the sexual tendencies of the other team’s players, complete with insinuated relations of a maternal nature.
Adam did not remember having seen such joviality in room 4C. He had never excelled at social interactions, so it was possible he hadn’t noticed or had been too distracted by his own thoughts. Regardless, the happy noises of conversation immediately stopped when the door swung open to reveal Sera Velim, with Roman LaMont a half step behind her as they walked into the room. LaMont’s face carried a huge grin. Adam could not recall ever seeing him look that happy. Velim looked tired, her expression difficult to read. They both took a seat, she at the head of the table, he off to the side. LaMont’s eyes lost focus as Velim addressed the room.
“Good morning, team. Today we will be doing some physical and neurological assessments while you’re under Lightcap. We wanted to let you know ahead of time, since you may experience some slight aches and discomfort after your shift this evening. We didn’t want you to worry. Are there any questions?”
Several heads shook. An uneasy silence stagnated the room. Adam raised his hand. Velim’s eyebrows raised in response, as if she was surprised anyone would ask a question, particularly him. He decided not to wait for her acknowledgement and asked, “What kind of tests? I can’t speak for anyone else in the group, but I get a physical twice a year, so why is this necessary?”
Velim was quick with her reply, as if she had rehearsed the canned response this exact question. “Well, of course we expect you’re all taking good care of yourselves. Wouldn’t want to bring undue hardship on the company by increasing our health care costs, would you? If you take a look at the employment agreement, you’ll find a major aspect of the Lightcap testing is making sure it doesn’t cause any issues with brain chemistry or physiology, or have deleterious effects on other systems in the body. We’ve performed psychological tests before, as you know. Today’s test will include a physical component, so we wanted to be proactive about dealing with any questions you may have about the process.” Her expression was blank as she said this, indicating no emotion. When Velim finished, she looked at LaMont.
LaMont stood up and barked, “All right, let’s get started. We’ve taken the liberty of providing comfortable athletic shoes for each of you, so your performance won’t be inhibited by dress shoes. Retrieve them from under your seat and put them on.” After the group complied, LaMont continued. “Great. Put on your Lightcaps.”
The last memory Adam had of the day was the sight of his arms lifting the Lightcap past his head. Then there was nothing but darkness.
Adam was sure his head had been split in two. He brought his hand to his forehead in response to the white-hot pulse of pain shooting from the top of his head to the bottom of his neck with each beat of his heart. He could feel that he wasn’t wearing his dome or Lightcap. Adam’s eyes worked to focus against the dim light and numbing pain in the
center of his head. He realized he was at home, in his own bed. He also heard sounds of water against metal in his kitchen. He swung his legs off his side of the bed and sat up, only to gasp in pain as his head protested against the sudden motion. He gave serious thought to laying back down.
Several deep breaths helped Adam to gain his sense of balance, strength, and purpose, and he pushed off the bed. His body almost immediately crumbled back into the soft comfort of the edge of his mattress. Adam, caught off guard by the vertigo, regained his balance and stood up, bracing his arm against his dresser for support. Eventually he made it into the kitchen, and found Hana cutting vegetables as a pot of water boiled on the stove. She smiled at him and said, “Hi, honey. Feeling better? You were a ball of sunshine earlier.” She playfully slapped him on the arm when she said this, and the pain that traveled upward from where his neck met his shoulder caused Adam to wince. Hana turned back to the vegetables, the knife in her hands tapping as it connected with the cutting board, green onions and carrots falling into sliced rows.
Adam tried to mask his confusion and responded, “I don’t remember any of that. How long have I been here? Did someone bring me home?” Even as he asked, his vision dimmed. Then there was a bright flash and he was between two men, their arms secured under his own, his weight carried by their strength. Adam’s feet scraped against the frayed carpet in the hallway outside his apartment, unable to move under their own power. Just as quickly, he was back in his kitchen hearing Hana’s voice echoing off his brick walls.
“ . . . Came home, said you were tired, then lay down. You seemed really upset, so I thought I’d make your favorite meal while you napped.” Adam noticed the smell of baking chicken. Hana had never apologized by cooking for him. Even as the scent of dinner filled him with hunger, Adam caught another odor in the air, pungent and familiar. He could almost taste it. Hana distracted him from trying to place it by saying, “Dinner will be done soon. Normally I’d ask you to make some drinks or set the table, but you’re in rough shape. Why don’t you sit down?”
Adam’s legs still wobbled, his head still throbbed in agony. He didn’t require much convincing. Adam sat at his dining room table, his head down, and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he experienced another flash. This time he was in the hallway outside his apartment, being dragged across the threshold by the same muscled men. Hana was there, watching as they brought him in. She followed behind them quietly as they took him into his bedroom and dropped him against the mattress with a loud thunk. The sound in his mind brought him back to reality.
“You’re sure no one was with me when I got here? Did I talk about anything other than being tired?” He asked while rubbing his forehead.
With his head down, Adam thought his voice might have been too muffled for Hana to hear. He wanted an answer, even though he was sure she planned to stick with her story regardless of the truth. He turned to his right to ask again, so she’d have a better chance of hearing him, just in time to see her grim face and a glint of light from the knife in her hand. Hana seemed lost in thought for a moment, then lunged at him. He shoved against the table on instinct, turning away from her, which pushed his chair against her and broke her momentum. Adam’s aching body screamed at him, but he was able to knock her off balance and deflect the blade with the chair, save for a cut down the back of his right arm. He immediately stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her protesting arms and torso. Hana raged and flailed against Adam, trying to kick him and hit his face with the back of her head at the same time.
“What are you doing?” Adam cried, his mind caught between shock and pain.
“You remember,” Hana gasped, her small frame struggling to break free from his bear hug. She still held the knife in her right hand, but Adam evaded her attempts to dig its point into his hip. “You’re not supposed to remember. Just give up—they’re already on their way.”
Blues! Adam thought. It had to be Blues, just as with Damen. He was fairly certain the outcome would be similar, or undesirable in any case. He had to figure out a way to deal with Hana then get the hell out of there. As Adam struggled to come up with a plan, Hana dropped, having lifted her legs abruptly while his arms weren’t prepared. She hit the floor and rolled, but came to a rest sprawled out on her chest, unmoving. Adam kneeled down to turn her over, aghast. When he did so, she grabbed his sleeve. The knife’s handle stuck out of her lower ribcage, its blade angled upward into her. Blood poured from the wound onto her clothes and his dining room floor. She hadn’t accounted for the weapon clasped in her dominant hand. Why? Adam wondered, horror-struck.
Hana blinked her eyes rapidly as her mouth opened and closed, but little sound escaped beyond a gurgled sigh, low and weakening. Adam had planned to incapacitate her or knock her out; he hadn’t wanted to kill her. Her hand on his sleeve was losing its grip. He watched as the light behind her eyes faded and her blinking stopped. It was then he noticed writing, etched into the plastic bubble resting beneath her ear, reading “PROTOTYPE” in small letters. Hana was wearing not a dome but a Lightcap! He pulled it off and shoved it in his pocket.
At least we don’t have to make one now, Adam thought, but if she was telling the truth, the Blues are almost here. He rushed to the window and looked down to the street, but saw nothing more than the usual traffic. They must want to keep this quiet, Adam thought. Can’t have people asking too many questions. He ran into the hallway outside his apartment and turned into the main passageway. The stairwell door was just beyond the elevator. He was almost halfway there when the elevator dinged. Shit, he thought. He was right by Hana’s door, which he tried frantically. The door yielded, and Adam pushed it back against its frame quietly, holding his breath. His heartbeat rushed in his ear, its downbeats filled in by the clomp of heavy boots—two sets as far as he could tell—passing by Hana’s door.
As soon as the Blues passed, he inched the door open. When he saw them turn the corner toward his apartment, he threw open the door and sprinted past the elevator toward the staircase, doing his best not to make noise. As Adam reached the stairwell door, he heard men shouting. Giving up secrecy, Adam threw the door open, slamming it against the wall. He took the steps two, three at a time, his bare feet against the concrete floor, his hands gripping the cold steel of the railing. When he was halfway down each flight, he leapt over the railing to the next floor down, halving the number of stairs in each set. He heard rushed footsteps on the stairs several floors above which indicated he was not yet safe. Nameless Blues pursued him, intent on his capture or worse. He needed time to think.
Adam made it to the ground level, his frantic and desperate descent ended. His feet found purchase against the smooth tile in his building lobby. He flew through the front door out into the street, happier than ever before to live in a part of Metra City boasting an active night scene. He heard the stairwell door bang against its concrete walls and shouted voices echoing after him. Adam took a hard right, headed straight into a crowd of people, his shoulder down and pointed ahead, battering through the group, its cries of outrage failing against his deaf ears and panicked mind.
Crouching low to the ground, Adam made his way through the moving pedestrians in a zigzag path intended both to hide his location and avert collisions. His neck and arm continued to throb, but he decided his stiffness was preferable to a gunshot wound. The Blues caused a commotion behind him as they worked their way through the crowd. One block ahead lay the entrance to the subway. Adam kept as low to the ground as he could while still jogging toward the station. He made it down the steps and hopped the turnstile, knowing the cameras would capture his image as he cleared the horizontal bar, then jumped into the nearest subway car as the doors closed in what felt like one swift motion. Adam turned around to see one of the men chasing him, his partner no doubt still at street level. The man wore a long, dark jacket, and had his hand in his pocket, most likely wrapped around the grip of a gun. The man threw his head left and right, his eyes scanning every face within range.
As the subway car screeched away from the station, its wheels on rail, the Blue turned back toward the stairs, appearing to give up.
Adam finally felt safe. He also felt as if he had run for hours, but in reality he had been sitting at his dining room table just ten minutes before. His heart still raced, but it slowed as his adrenaline lost its hold. He became more aware of his surroundings as he observed the people in the car. They were all lost in hushed conversations, in contrast to the detached aloofness Adam usually observed. Electronic games and domes, the typical distractions of city life, sat in pockets unused in a uniformity Adam had not seen before. He strained to hear the muted words of the passengers, most of which were lost amid the noises of the subway as it barreled down its designated path.
Only snippets of conversation were audible. Words like “Blues”, “assassination”, and “affair” popped out against the background. Though the people around him were quiet, he could tell from their nervous energy and facial expressions he had missed important news. Hana’s Lightcap was in his left pocket. Adam considered putting it on so he could read news reports from the mesh, but he was afraid the signal might be traced. He also recognized the importance of maintaining control right now. Thinking of the Lightcap with disgust, Adam decided he never wanted that contraption on his head again, no matter the circumstance. He also reflected that his career at Adaptech had effectively ended.
Being an information junkie was terrible in times like these. Adam struggled to appear detached while he secretly tried to listen to the discussions going on around him. They all clashed together, making it impossible for Adam to follow any one track. Twenty different voices inundated him on the same subject, with words mangled against one another. Unable to contain his curiosity, he got off at the next stop, the soles of his feet slapping against wet concrete, discarded gum, and other trash, taking the stairs two at a time until he emerged at street level. Adam was glad to see an electronics store half a block away, its screens and notetabs behind the storefront window facing out, tuned to feeds from various mesh nodes.