by R E McLean
“Can I take a look?”
Mike handed her the binoculars. Alex stepped away from the window to eliminate glare then raised them to her eyes. They were like no binoculars she’d ever used. Instead of making the view seem bigger, they made it sharp and immediate, as if she was watching Claire on a TV screen. She hesitated. What if Sean was somewhere else in this building, doing the same thing as them? A shiver ran down her back.
“I feel like a peeping Tom,” she said.
Mike shrugged. “Comes with the territory. What’s she doing?”
“Making a coffee. Drinking it. There’s a dog next to her, maybe that’s why she was crouching.” She pulled the binoculars away and looked at him. “We’re never going to get anywhere like this. She doesn’t do anything, does she? She’s a hermit.”
“So what do you suggest?”
Alex thought of the earpiece in her pocket. If she went into the Hive, could she use it to make contact with Claire? Was there a virtual space corresponding to this physical one, in which she could travel down in the elevator, cross the street, and head up to Claire’s apartment? In the virtual world, would Claire’s door be even better secured than her San Francisco one? Or would she just be able to fly over there and knock on the window, like a cross between Superman and a particularly nosey window cleaner?
She sniffed.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she said. “I assume there’s one here?”
Mike nodded. “Off the hallway. Don’t take too long.”
She nodded. Would time in the Hive flow at the same speed as time outside? Would she have time to find Claire and maybe Sean, and then look her own parents up, before they had to get home?
There was only one way to find out.
38
Dolores
Silicon City
28 March, 12:05pm
The bathroom had orange-tiled walls up to waist height, then wood paneling above which looked like imitation teak. The bathroom suite was a shade of avocado. Alex was relieved that the plumbing in this world looked as if it functioned the same way as in hers.
She closed the door behind her and gathered her thoughts. She didn’t have much time; what were her priorities?
After the roasting Monique had given her this morning, the first priority had to be the case. Claire first. Then Sean. Family last.
The toilet flushed almost silently and the lid eased itself closed with a sigh that belied its retro appearance.
Then she sat down on the lid and fished the earpiece from her pocket.
She turned it over in her hand a few times. It was an odd-looking thing, like a hearing aid had mated with an earbud and grown itself a tail. The tail was thin and looked to be made of organic material. She shuddered; could this thing make direct contact with her brain?
She took a few deep breaths, fighting nausea. Everyone in this world did this. She couldn’t chicken out now.
She lifted it to her ear and closed her eyes. Slowly, she fed the tail into her ear. She felt it move inside her, as if it was seeking something out. It tickled. Then she pushed it in deeper and the sensation turned to pain, like having your ears syringed when you hadn’t bothered to soften the wax first. She hesitated. Should she pull it out? Was she supposed to feel pain, or was it a warning? She’d never seen anyone in this city insert an earpiece; they’d always just activated one that was already in place. Maybe they were designed to be inserted once and then never removed. If that was the case, would she ever be able to extract this thing? And what would happen when she jumped back home? This was certainly man-made, and she had no idea how it would react to the Spinner.
Breathe, she told herself. She squeezed her eyes shut and held the earpiece still, letting it send its tendrils deep into her ear. She swallowed. There was a dull metallic taste at the back of her throat. Don’t be sick, don’t be sick, she thought.
Finally the earpiece settled down and became still. She patted her ear; it seemed to be firmly inserted, the visible part snug inside her ear. She took a few breaths.
She tried to picture the people she had seen operating these things. What was it they did?
She heard Mike’s voice outside.
“Are you going to be long in there?”
“Sorry. The jump has caught up with me. Delayed reaction.”
If he thought she was bringing up her banana and porridge breakfast, he wouldn’t venture in here.
“Eww. Be as quick as you can.”
“OK.”
It was now or never. She closed her eyes and put her finger on the earpiece. She let her body slacken, waiting for the Hive to envelop her, to plunge her into a virtual world.
Nothing. She heard the flush finish. Outside, Mike was moving around.
She tried to loosen her eyelids, removing the tension in her face. It wasn’t easy. She took one deep breath, then another, pursing her lips and focusing on the air passing through them. Maybe she should’ve gone on the Mindfulness course back at Berkeley.
She twisted her finger on the earpiece. Maybe there was a special move. And then, all of a sudden, the world turned purple.
She resisted the temptation to open her eyes. Was she in the Hive, or had Mike just turned on some lights? She held her breath, waiting. Nothing happened for a few moments, and then a trail of pink bubbles floated upwards in front of her closed eyes. They were followed by more: pinks, yellows, reds. It was beautiful.
Should she open her eyes?
Let’s try it, she thought. She eased them open, waiting for the bathroom to reappear.
It wasn’t there. She stood in a long thin room with a window at one end. She looked up and down the space. Where was she?
She walked to the window. The carpet beneath her feet turned to grass as she passed over it. Long, yellowing grass interspersed with poppies. She reached down and brushed them with her fingertips. Then she looked back and saw that the floor behind her had turned back into a pale pink carpet. It was thick and luxurious, but it wasn’t a poppy field.
She pulled in a deep breath. The air was clean and fresh. She looked up to see a blue sky above her head. Was she outside?
Ahead of her, where the carpet became pink, the walls were definitely there. They were purple, with orange and yellow bubbles passing up them.
She high-fived the empty air. She didn’t expect this. No wonder people in Silicon City spent their whole lives in here.
At the far end of the corridor was that window. She hurried towards it, hoping it would tell her where she was. She leaned against it and looked out.
She was in the same building, across the street from Claire’s. Opposite her, formless shapes moved in the windows. She couldn’t remember which apartment was Claire’s. She searched her mind for a memory of where she’d looked before, through those binoculars. Sixth floor, on the front corner, but the windows reflected the sun and she couldn’t see inside. She blinked a few times. Suddenly the reflections cleared and her gaze focused in on them, like the binoculars but clearer. Claire was sitting on her bed, sipping coffee. Alex watched as she put her mug on the bedside table and walked to the window. She pulled the drapes closed.
Alex squinted. Would this technology allow her to look inside?
A voice sounded inside her head. Warning. Privacy law violation risk.
She laughed. Even in this virtual world, there were rules. Of course there would be. And the system prevented transgressions. Now she knew why she’d seen no evidence of a police force.
So she knew where Claire was. Tick one. Now for Sean.
She tried to cast her mind around the building she was in, exploring behind doors and into unoccupied rooms. She could gain access to most of the apartments on the floor she was on. But they were all empty. She tried to travel through a third door, but came up against that warning again. So she couldn’t go into a room if it had someone inside. Or at least not someone who hadn’t invited her in. She was a virtual vampire.
If Sean was here, he would be behind one of those doors. How was she
to find him?
Then it occurred to her. She retreated along the corridor and stood in front of the elevator. There was no sign of a panel. She reached into her mind; was there a way to summon it mentally?
No sooner had she asked herself the question, than the doors swish-thunked their way open. The sound was even more pleasing than in the real version of Silicon City. She laughed again and gave the wall a gentle punch as she stepped into the elevator.
Warning. Potential property damage violation.
Oops. “Sorry.”
This system was like having the world’s most boring teacher looking over your shoulder all the time.
She willed the elevator to hurry and it did, speeding downstairs at a pace that made her worry about the impact at the bottom. When it reached the first floor it slowed and came to a gentle rest. She looked at the doors and they opened.
The receptionist was nowhere to be seen. The lobby area had metamorphosed from a featureless, blank space to something resembling the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, Captain Picard version.
“Make it so,” she muttered to herself. She ran to one of the displays, running her fingers over it. But it was just decorative.
She needed to get on with her job. She pushed through the doors and out into the street. It was deserted. She felt something brush her hair and looked up. Above her, its trunk skimming her head, a purple elephant floated past. Two more followed it.
She darted across the street and entered the building opposite. Again, the foyer was empty. She paused, expecting another replica of the Starship Enterprise. But this was the Tardis, Matt Smith version.
“I love this place!” she shouted, her voice echoing off of the central console.
The elevator doors were, of course, blue. She looked at them a moment and then raised her hand. She clicked her fingers. They opened.
Inside the elevator, she thought about the sixth floor.
Sixth floor. Coming right up. Was that the voice of Amy Pond?
The elevator doors swished open. If she was lucky, the apartment corresponding to Mike’s would be empty. She ran along the corridor, feeling the space around her turn into a mountain range as she moved. She put her hand on the final door and it opened. Yes.
The apartment was devoid of furniture; nothing to attack her eyes, trip her over or make her doubt the anatomy of her own body. She rushed to the window and leaned against it.
She quieted, her gaze traveling over the building opposite. A purple elephant, larger than the one she’d seen before, passed in front of her, blocking her vision. She scowled and it metamorphosed into a replica of Schrödinger which would be one hundred per cent accurate if it weren’t ten feet long. And flying.
“Not you again.”
He turned to her, waved a paw languorously then blinked out of existence.
She could see into the windows of the building opposite now. There he was. Mike, standing in the window, peering out through binoculars. He looked as if he was in a gray bubble, a little pouch of the real world surrounded by virtual lunacy.
She let her gaze travel along the windows of his floor, searching.
Then she stopped.
Standing in the window four along from Mike, staring straight at her, was Sean Wolf.
She threw her arms out, almost losing her balance in the shock of his intense stare. She pulled back. Had he seen her? Of course he had; he was in the Hive too. Did he know who she was, why she had come here? Did he remember her from the day before?
This window had sheer drapes on either side. They seemed to be made of a fine yellow gossamer that reminded her of butterfly wings. She pulled them closed, hoping this would hide her. He was still there. Four windows along from Mike. He held a pair of binoculars that looked like a bright blue version of the ones Mike held, with pink tassels hanging from them.
She backed away and sat down. So Sean was here. And those binoculars could only mean one thing; he was watching Claire.
She had to get back to Mike, tell him what she’d seen. How she’d do that without revealing that she’d gone inside the Hive, she had no idea. She’d expected an entire virtual world, something completely removed from reality. What she was experiencing was more like augmented reality, a rendering of the world with an added sheen of gloss and whimsy. Now she knew how all those Hivers avoided crashing into each other.
But she had one more objective. Did she have time for a quick poke around in virtual space, before going back and warning Mike?
“Hive,” she said, feeling silly.
“Call me Malcolm,” it replied in a British accent.
“Seriously? Malcolm?”
“Or you can use one of the twenty-three alternative names available, if you prefer.”
“What have you got?”
It started listing names, in the tones of a well-spoken man from the English home counties. Was that Benedict Cumberbatch’s voice?
She found a name she liked.
“Doris, please set an alarm.”
“Doris? What kinda name is that?” the AI asked her in a Southern drawl.
“It’s one of the options you gave me.”
“Urrgh. It’s ghastly. Call me Dolores, if you must.”
“Dolores. Please set an alarm.”
“Why certainly. For when would you like me to set the alarm?” it said in a voice that sounded a lot like Blanche from Golden Girls.
What was it about AIs?
“Five minutes.”
“Five minutes what?”
“Er, five minutes from now?”
“The word you’re looking for, honeybunch, is please.”
“Five minutes, please.”
“Certainly, sweet pea. Would you like me to bring you back to this room at that time?”
“Yes. Please.” She hesitated. “No, hang on a moment.”
“And what exactly would you like me to hang on to?”
She rolled her eyes. “Can you send me back to the room I was in when I entered the Hive? The bathroom?”
“I sure can.”
“Thank you. Dolores.”
“That’s my pleasure, sweetie.”
Alex took a deep breath and prepared to dive deep into the Hive.
39
Morse
Silicon City
28 March, 12:51pm
Mike wasn’t in the mood for surveillance. It would be so easy to just leave a camera in here and let that do the grunt work.
But Monique liked the human touch. And besides, any video evidence he did manage to bring back would be destroyed in the jump.
None of this was made any easier by having a partner who went running off to the bathroom every five minutes.
He took a last look over at the building opposite then went to the bathroom door. He gave a gentle knock.
There was no reply.
“Alex?” he called.
No answer.
“We need to get moving soon.”
Again, no response.
They didn’t have long. She’d have to save her upchucking for the journey back. He was sure there’d be more of it then.
He knocked again, more forcefully this time.
“C’mon Alex, I need you out here. We have a job to do.”
Nothing.
This was getting out of hand. First they’d given him a partner who looked like an extra in an episode of Outlander. Then she turned out to have a stomach that was about as resilient as a kitten in a tornado.
“I’m coming in.”
He leaned into the door.
“Last warning. Make sure you’re presentable.”
He waited. How long would that take her?
He counted to sixty. That should do it.
“OK. Open the door now, Alex, or I’m coming in.”
He pulled back and then slammed into the door with all his weight. It didn’t budge. He tried again, feeling it shift a little this time. On the second attempt it fell open.
“Alex?”
She
was slumped on the toilet, her eyes closed. In her ear was an earpiece. Hive technology.
“No!” he cried.
He considered trying to rouse her. But that might cause permanent brain damage.
He grabbed the mobile phone Madonna had given him. Old tech, but it still worked in some places.
He dialed the only number in its memory.
“Mike? What’s up?”
“Sarita?” That was unexpected.
“Yes. Be quick. Tell me the problem.”
“It’s Alex. You asked me to tell you if she did anything odd.”
“Can’t this wait until she’s back here?”
“No. She’s gone in.”
“Gone in where?”
“In the Hive.”
“She’s what? How did she get an earpiece? Where is she?”
“She’s in the bathroom. She pretended she was sick. She’s slumped on the pan, out of it.”
“Don’t disturb her.”
“You sure? I shouldn’t pull her out?”
“We have no idea how that would affect her. Just leave her be. She isn’t to know that you saw her. Or that you’ve spoken to me.”
“I disagree. She needs to be pulled out. And I’m not lying to her.”
“Mike.” Sarita’s voice was harsh. “Do as I say. It’s important. And watch her. Find out why she did it.”
40
Hive
The Hive
28 March, 12:51pm
Alex waited, looking at the drapes. They’d started shimmering now, bright swathes of color drifting across their surface. These would look great in her bedroom.
Then it happened. She blinked, and all of a sudden she was outside, miles away. Two-point-two miles away, to be precise.
In front of her was the Hall of Justice. Not the low, mercury-like building in Silicon City, but the real one, the one in San Francisco. Had the Hive sent her home?
No. It was just picking images from her head.
She headed toward the revolving doors. People were coming out, talking amongst themselves. None of them wore earpieces. A man crashed into her.