Stasis (Part 2): Iterate

by E. W. Osborne

  “This was your plan!”

  “And I’m woman enough to admit it kinda sucked,” she shrugged, throwing another log onto the fire. A splash of sparks floated into the night sky, blinking and burning out. “I was thinking on my feet.”

  “Fine. We have the luxury of time, so let’s think this one through. We go to the police, they tell whoever the fuck is after us, and we disappear. We tell the news, they interview us, everyone knows who we are, we still get disappeared. Anything we do puts us, and your little friend across the pond, at risk.” She glowered into the fire, refusing to admit he was right. Apparently she wasn’t woman enough for that, but he bit his tongue. “No bed is worth any of that.”

  A heavy silence blanketed the group. On some level, they all felt too young to be dealing with it. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but he couldn’t risk her exposing them on a whim. Just when he thought he had her against the ropes, she came back swinging.

  “There was a Dreamscape leak. Dozens, if not hundreds of private Dreamscapes are on the internet. It’s all over the news,” she told the group, like some kind of prophet.

  Questions fired off into the darkness in short bursts.

  “Like who?”

  “How do you know? When?”

  “Are everyone’s online?”

  Neil gritted his teeth as he watched Maggie soak up the attention. “Okay, okay. Now, I don’t know everything. I didn’t want to waste the charge on my tablet, but it happened a couple days ago. Loads of famous people, a few normal but most all of them are pretty fucked up. Apparently there’s one of the English Prime Minister literally pissing on various monuments around Washington D.C.”

  “You have got to be joking,” Ian snickered in awe.

  “All this proves is how glad I am we’re here, off the grid, away from it all,” Neil said.

  “I’ll forego the creature comforts. I’m just freakin’ glad that thing is out of my head,” Wills added.

  “Me too,” Rachel replied, meekly.

  Neil and Maggie stared at one another through the flames, their battle of wills put on hold for the moment.

  Later that night, the fire doused, the tent zipped up. The nights’ conversation ran through his mind over and over. Judging by the breathing around him, Neil knew he wasn’t the only one staring at the roof of the tent.

  “It feels strange, right? It isn’t just me?” he whispered into the darkness.

  “I thought you’d love it, you technophobe,” Maggie muttered form the opposite side of the tent.

  Neil bit back a nasty comment about her illegal Dreamscapes while Ian whispered something to her he couldn’t quite hear.

  “I think you get used to it,” Ian replied from the other side of the tent.

  “What were your favorite Dreamscapes?” Rachel asked the group softly.

  “I’m not telling you shit,” Wills laughed.

  “Oh come on. I’ll tell you mine,” she replied.

  Neil saw Wills’ silhouette shift against the wall of the tent. He let out a heavy sigh. “You promise not to laugh?”

  Maggie snorted. “No.”

  Accepting his fate, Wills continued anyway. “I’ve always wanted to be a dancer but I move like a hippo in heels. So my favorite Dreamscapes were just me dancing.”

  There was a pregnant silence, as if they were all waiting for Maggie’s inevitable sarcastic quip. Instead, she surprised them. “What kind of dancing?”

  “All kinds, really,” he replied with a touch of relief. “Ballet, jazz, tap…”

  “I like to fly,” Rachel said, the smile plain her voice. “Well, liked,” she corrected.

  The horror of the suicides, of the world they were ignoring, washed away as they shared their most frequent Dreamscapes. The topic was usually so personal and private, as deeply protected as any fantasy. Neil thought it was refreshing to be so open about it, until he remembered the real reason why.

  None of us have a Seed anymore. It makes no sense to be coy about it.

  Eventually, the intimate conversation died off and one by one, they finally drifted to sleep.

  Hours later, a scream froze Neil’s heart. The high pitched shout was filled with a blood chilling terror he’d never heard before. He shot straight up and was on his knees before he realized it. Wills loosed another yell, this one ending in a whimper. Maggie was at his side in an instant.

  “It’s just a dream. It’s only a dream,” she hushed, rubbing his head like a child.

  “No, no, it was—I couldn’t move. It was like I was…” He pulled his knees to his chest and sobbed, giving into the fear.

  “I know, but it was just a dream.”

  Neil rocked to his toes, adrenaline still begging him to run, flee, fight. In the dim light, he noticed Ian glance over. He cocked his head toward the tent door. Neil nodded. The girls tended to Wills while they stepped out into the damp air. As Ian finished zipping up the tent, a man with a flashlight jogged over from a distance.

  “Everything okay?” the guy called out, light bobbing with each footfall.

  “Yeah, yeah. Sorry about that,” Ian replied with a friendly wave. He kept his hand raised to shield the light.

  “Heard a shout,” the stranger said, coming closer.

  Neil took a step back when he realized he didn’t know who this person was approaching. Sure, it could’ve been another camper, but under the circumstances, could they afford to risk it?

  “A mouse got into the tent. Scared one of our friends,” Neil blurted, squinting into the light. “Sorry to bother you, but we’re fine.”

  The man dropped his light and they could see for the first time he was easily in his sixties. He had the wiry frame of a man who’d spent his life outdoors, a man who knew how to survive in the elements.

  He chuckled. “What is it with women and rodents, eh? Good to know. She gave me half a heart attack.”

  “Sorry ‘bout that, but appreciate you coming over to check on us.” Ian offered his hand for a neighborly handshake. They said goodbye and watched the light disappear off into the distance as the man returned to his own tent.

  In the faint light of the dawn, Neil watched Ian’s expression morph. “This whole thing… I don’t know who to trust, what to do, where to go next. I thought that guy—”

  “Yeah, me too,” Neil said, the words blending together in one big whoosh.

  Ian dropped his voice and strolled away from the tent. “Are we even safe out here? How do we know we weren’t followed?”

  “We don’t, I guess. I didn’t know they’d be able to track us to begin with. Who knows what else they have we don’t know about. We have electronics, things with GPS. Hell, a tiny drone could be floating above us right now and we’d never know.”

  It felt good to get the fear off his chest. He felt so responsible, he’d been carrying these worries and doubts on his shoulders since they first fled RIT. Of all the people in the group, Ian was his least favorite but he had to admit, he was probably the most capable. He seemed to have a good head in times of crisis, at least.

  Ian scuffed his toe in the dirt, kicking over a rock. “And that’s not even wondering who they are.”

  “I just assumed it was the government,” Neil frowned, glancing back at the tent.

  “What if it isn’t?”

  The statement echoed Hypnos’ belief, sending a shiver down Neil’s spine. The government watching them was easier to accept than some faceless group with unchecked powers.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Alfreton, NY

  June 29th

  “I CAN’T HELP but wonder… what if all these events are related?”

  Alex replayed the clip several times. He wasn’t familiar with the vlogger, but knew she was onto something. After stumbling across her latest clip, he’d spent the last few hours crawling through all the information he could find on her, including every video she’d posted in the last year.

  There’d been a decided shift in tone a month before. The cutesy, bubbly mess
ages teasing about her next big story disappeared. There was a tightness around her eyes, a smirk at the corner of her lip. It felt like she was telling you a secret, something she’d dredged up just for you.

  But he circled back to this simple question. Were they connected?

  He interlaced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in the squeaky chair. He’d come to the same conclusion before the mass suicides and done nothing about it. In the end, he’d decided sticking his neck out with little information to go on was too much of a risk. At night he told himself there wasn’t anything he could’ve done. If he had the chance to do it over, he’d make the same decision. But really, deep down, he thought if he’d been able to save even a few of those people by sharing what he knew, it would’ve been worth it.

  Now, with this Kristine McCay drawing the same connections, especially after the Dreamscape leaks… it was impossible to deny. No one wanted to openly blame the Seeds and in fact, were happy to accept the idea it was some elaborate hoax. But through all his trawling, he didn’t find anything that hinted to the final piece of the puzzle. The countdown. The website. Why?

  He stared at the monitor to his right, the countdown now a permanent fixture on the screen. Even when he slept, he would roll over and watch the numbers tick. Tick. Tick down.

  Kristine didn’t know about the website. She didn’t know that after the mass suicide, the version had changed yet again. As soon as the news hit about the Dreamscape leaks, he’d checked to see if there’d been any change. Each version corresponded to a major event, a shift in direction. There was no way of knowing what, but at least they’d know when.

  Alex watched the video again and again, trying to get a feel for her through the screen. Was she trustworthy? Would she do the right thing with the information? How much would he have to reveal before she believed him?

  The fear was paralyzing.

  For over a day he sat in his dark room, summer rain pelting the windows beyond, battling with what he should do next. A small part of him wanted to rise up and be the hero. He was confident he’d cracked the mystery. Not only that, he was able to help solve it. With Kristine’s reach, he’d be able to broadcast either the instructions or the actual sequence needed to disable the Seeds. He could single-handedly save millions of people from these horrible fates.

  But it didn’t take many steps down that path before the panic began to constrict his throat. Creating illegal Dreamscapes was one thing. Proving he was capable of essentially hacking their entire system was a different beast altogether. If that didn’t draw the attention of the Steele Industries empire, nothing would. Now they were deeper down the rabbit hole, he was certain the people who’d taken Mouse’s friend weren’t national security spooks but hired help tasked to keep this issue out of sight.

  This internal battle was tearing him apart, breaking down every layer he’d built up until his core was exposed and vulnerable. Was he the hero or would he cower?

  It didn’t help his mum only came home to shower and change. A few of her friends had killed themselves in the last wave and she’d found refuge in wine and some guy called Dave. Not that she would’ve been any help to talk to, but her absence served as a reminder to how much the world had changed.

  Alex tapped away from Kristine’s video to send her a quick message before he lost his nerve.

  You don’t know me, but I saw your last video and you’re onto something. I’d rather not reveal too much about myself, but I wanted to encourage you to keep digging. The Seeds are rotting.

  He was surprised when a message popped up straight away. Thinking it was an autoreply, he nearly deleted it before giving it a second look. It wasn’t from the journalist. It was another message from The Gardener.

  Interesting times, wouldn’t you say?

  As my nan would say, may you live in uninteresting times.

  Nothing we can do about that now, is there? Have you given my proposition some thought?

  What proposition is that?

  Working together. I find your work fascinating.

  Haven’t you heard, mate? Dreamscapes are out. Now that people are watching, no one wants to use em

  I’m talking about your other work :)

  The smiley face at the end felt sinister. Although this Gardener had piqued his curiosity, it wasn’t enough to make him stick his neck out. Not wanting to encourage the conversation any further, he blocked the user again. Except I’m fairly certain I already did that, he thought to himself. Not a moment later, another message popped up.

  Okay, cool. Just know the next time I write will be your last chance. ;)

  If the smiley face had felt sinister, the wink was downright evil. Alex was left with a horrible sensation crawling across his skin. Almost as a reflex, he switched off all his monitors and wheeled away from his desk. The room was black for the first time in months. Even the dedicated monitor on which he watched the countdown was dark.

  He chastised himself. The whirring of the computers all around him almost sounded like laughter.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  South Lake Tahoe, CA

  PENELOPE’S STOMACH had been in knots for days. The tension wasn’t easing as she flew in a car back to the cabin. It’s almost impossible to feel like you’re working for the greater good when every step along the way feels wrong. She’d managed to convince Wesley to take Cameron in for the time being, but the old man had a few conditions first. After she’d finally gotten him to let Cameron up off the floor, the hermit pulled a pillowcase over his head and put a pair of noise-canceling headphones on him.

  “If we’re doing this, you need to help me move him. We can’t stay here. Until I’m absolutely sure he hasn’t been compromised, he can’t see, hear, or smell anything that might lead back here,” Wesley had described, staring back at the cabin. “I also need the last few things on that list. If you fail to bring those back, I won’t be held responsible for what happens to him.”

  Penelope had whispered the demands in Cameron’s ear. “We have to move you somewhere new, but you can’t know where you are. If they’re watching, then they’d be able to track us,” she explained.

  “Pen, you know I don’t have a Seed. I never have.” He’d argued the point but Wesley didn’t budge. “Fine, whatever helps.”

  She had to give him credit. He rolled with the situation far better than she ever could’ve. She helped Wesley lead Cameron through the forest and back to her house, through a roundabout path. Each step came with a tiny prayer. Please, don’t let anyone see us. Please let us get to the house. She tried not to imagine the fallout if a random hiker spotted them leading a blindfolded man through the forest. They were a little old to pass it off as a prank.

  The last she’d seen him, he was perched on the edge of the bed, all senses blocked or dulled in the interest of security.

  And that was days ago.

  Her stomach clenched the closer she got to the cabin. There’d been no contact between her and Wesley, obviously no contact with Cameron. Her mind ran on a constant loop of worrying about Cameron, worrying about world events, desperately feeling like they were running behind in race they’d never be able to win.

  All the lies, all the theft and manipulation was wearing on her. Joey wasn’t happy, but their first trip had earned her enough goodwill their bickering didn’t mature into a full-fledged fight. And it was with another deception that she was able to sneak back out to Lake Tahoe with the complete list in tow. As long as she made it back in time, he might not even know she’d left.

  Penelope thought she might actually throw up as the car pulled up to the cabin. She stepped outside and breathed deeply, the thick summer air choking rather than refreshing. A part of her expected to find them both dead inside, so it was a pleasant surprise to find the pair sitting peacefully at the dining room table.

  Wesley glanced up as she opened the door. He looked well-rested and clean. She didn’t bother with any superfluous greetings this time. Instead, she lifted the duffel bag like
a prize catch from a fishing trip.

  “How’s he doing?” she asked as she carefully set the bag on the floor.

  “Fine. Alive,” Wesley replied, already picking through his delivery. “At least he doesn’t complain.”

  Although he couldn’t see or hear, Cameron turned his head in her direction. She reasoned he’d felt the fresh air come in as well as Wesley’s movements.

  “Is she back?”

  Penelope’s throat tightened with pity. She wanted to hold him, to take care of him. All of this was so horrible, first he was kidnapped and then she brought him here for safe-keeping and he was imprisoned again.

  “Can I talk to him?”

  Wesley shook his head. “I’ve done what I can but haven’t been able to figure out if his Seed has been hacked.”

  “I told you a hundred times. He doesn’t have one,” she said, shaking her head.

  Wesley touched her hand almost tenderly. “If he doesn’t have a Seed, why does he have an implant scar?”

  Penelope moved without realizing, wanting to see the proof for herself. The old man stopped her before she could reach him.

  Cameron’s head twisted in the other direction, maybe smelling her perfume. “Pen? If that’s you, I hope you brought back a fresh pair of underwear for me. Joey’s are a bit tight.”

  She snorted despite herself, tears forming in her eyes. How he managed to keep his sense of humor in even the darkest moments, she’d never know.

  “You said there was a word, a trigger that made the other catatonic patients respond.” He spoke so slowly it verged on patronizing.

  “Yes, but you told me not to tell you,” she replied with the same speed.

  “It’ll take me a day to get this device up and running. Considering the speed with which things are progressing on the outside, I don’t think we can wait that long. Do you agree?”

  Penelope nodded, her gaze still pinned on Cameron. “Then what do you suggest?”