The Outsiders

by L. J. LaBarthe

  They weren't normal people. Pei Ling's codename was China, his codename was Australia. They were meeting codenames Russia, New Zealand, Japan, France, Germany, Scotland, United States, Canada, India, and Ecuador. Pei Ling joined him, linked her arm through his and they continued to walk. "It's such a pretty day," she said. He grunted his agreement. She laughed and added in a softer voice, "A good day to plan a revolution."—

  —They were half naked, lying on a huge bed in a palatial suite in an expensive hotel in Berlin. The curtains were drawn and the light was dim. Matty couldn't remember feeling more content in his life. He hummed softly as Arkady trailed gentle kisses down the line of his jaw.

  "I can't believe you're still okay with this."

  "What, a bisexual man cannot love an asexual man?" Arkady sounded more amused than anything.

  "Well no, just that… I'm not really likely to want to have a million rounds of hot, sweaty sex, you know."

  "I know. That's not important." Arkady looked at him, his eyes dark. "This—" He laid a palm over Matty's heart and then moved it to his own. "This is what is important. Connection. Affection. Understanding. Intimacy of the soul and the heart and mind. What happens with the flesh is good, yes, but it means little to me without the rest."

  "You love me?"

  "I said I do."

  Matty reached up to ruffle Arkady's dark blond hair, making it even more mussed than usual. "You big softie. I love you, too."

  "No one must know."

  "That we love each other?"

  "That I'm a softie."

  Matty burst out laughing. Arkady grinned then kissed him.—

  —"Sometimes, you have to sidestep your government and do what's right for the people of your country. Sometimes, you have to do something that will make your government brand you a traitor, the media will scream you've committed treason. You know better and know it's the government that are the traitors and have committed treason. That's why we have to do this."

  "I want it on the record that it was Paul, of the United States of America, who came up with this plan, not me," Arkady said. "Let it be known that Mother Russia did not devise it."

  "Do you disagree?" Paul flared. His face was red as a beet and his dark eyes were wild.

  "Of course not. I just find the irony in this delicious."

  "Whatever. What about the rest of you?" Paul looked around their little group. He was wearing combat fatigues and armed to the teeth. By contrast, Arkady in his flak jacket and his 9mm on the table looked positively underdressed. Matty thought the rest of the group in their civilian clothes looked even more so. Never mind that they were all armed as well, their weapons carefully concealed beneath their clothing.

  "Count us in," said Lucy. "Like Arkady over there, I find the irony amusing. Though I do have a question—where's England and Wales?"

  "My dear Scotland, England, and Wales couldn't make it. Something about an unbreakable engagement."

  "Bloody great. The biggest counter intelligence op against the governments of the world, no less, and some of us aren't here." Lucy threw up her hands. "All right, what's the plan?"—

  —Matty ducked and rolled, his rifle in his hands. He was not going to die like this, stuck on board a tiny fishing boat at the edge of Australian waters. He was going to finish his mission, get back to Hobart, board a plane for New York, and celebrate with his friends and colleagues. Beside him, Arkady was swearing in Russian and Pei Ling was shooting her own weapon without stopping.

  The enemy kept coming and there were more of them than first thought. "We need to abort," Matty shouted. "Get the gear, go overboard, dive!"

  "I'll cover you," Pei Ling said. Her voice was strained.

  "What?"

  Pei Ling faced him, pausing in her firing. Blood seeped through her clothes and it was obvious she was dying. "Get the hell out of here, Australia. Russia, make him leave."

  "Pei Ling…"

  "It was wonderful while we had it. Remember me well."

  Matty was dragged overboard by Arkady, cursing as he went, as the sound of gunfire became a muffled staccato. He flailed as Arkady pushed the diving apparatus into place on his face, shot him dark glares as Arkady gripped his hand and pulled him down, deep into the ocean.—

  —"Did it make any difference?"

  "Who the fuck knows?"

  "Paul?"

  Static.

  "Paul, you dickhead, where are you?"

  "I'm coming. I'm about to land the Blackhawk. Keep your pants on. How's Matty doing?"

  "Broken leg, nothing serious. Pei Ling's gone, Paul." Arkady's voice was filled with tears. Matty looked at him, wondering why he hadn't cried yet.

  "Fuck!"—

  —"Now what do we do?" Matty shifted his leg gingerly. The break had been healed and he was out of the cast, thank God—at least now he could scratch it, the itchiness left by the cast had been infuriating. "Here we are, in New York City, down to a few of us. The shit is hitting the fan as we speak."

  "I still say we did the right thing," Paul said.

  "I didn't say we didn't. Just, what do we do now? Any suggestions?"

  Lucy took a deep breath. "I've got one, you're not going to like it."—

  —"Well, this is it. Goodbye for now, until we all wake up." Paul gave Matty a quick, rough hug. "See you on the flipside, bro."

  Matty hugged him back. "We did what we could. See you when I see you."

  The goodbyes were brief but heartfelt. Arkady, Paul, Matty, Lucy codename Scotland, Gina codename Ecuador, Louis codename France, Nisha codename India, and Britte codename Germany all climbed into the cryo tubes.

  "We all ready?" Paul asked. As everyone nodded, he turned to look at the cryogenic technician. "Let's do this thing."

  "Yes, sir."

  The tubes closed up and Matty felt a moment of panic. He hated closed spaces, but he knew that soon he'd be asleep and unaware. The claustrophobia would quickly pass. Above him, in a voice that sounded tinny coming as it did through a speaker in the top of the cryo tube, the announcement of impending somnolescence gas was made. There was a puff of air, the scent of lavender. That was the last thing Matty remembered.—

  Matty sat bolt upright. He ran his hands through his hair, realizing that he was shaking, almost violently. He remembered. He knew. He was part of an elite group of spies that had gotten together to save the planet from extremism in both the political and social arenas. The plan had been sound. The work they'd done had been excellent. It had still failed, by the time he and his companions had gone into cryo, they still weren't sure why it had failed. They just knew they had to hide. Lucy's cousin had worked in a top-secret facility that engineered cryogenic suspension, something offered to the very, very rich. Together with Paul, Lucy had convinced him to set up the tubes for the survivors of their group.

  Now Matty was awake and aware. He shivered uncontrollably as he wrapped his arms around himself. He understood the pamphlet he'd found and why Arkady's name was on it. They'd been trying to find out why their plan had gone wrong. They'd all infiltrated different groups in search of information, even as they plied their contacts and assets for any sliver of explanation. In the end, the cryo tubes had been their last option for survival and escape from their enemies.

  "Shit," Matty whispered to himself. He wondered if his friends were awake. He wondered if they knew anything more than they had when they'd entered the tubes ninety-nine years ago. He had to get out of this clinic and into the general population of the underworld that was now New York City, and he had to do it as soon as possible.

  *~*~*

  After a night of fitful sleep, Matty woke feeling as if he had sand in his eyes. He couldn't stop yawning, and his back ached.

  He barely managed a greeting for Bill when he arrived to take him to breakfast, and didn't eat most of what was given him. His mind was too full of thoughts—memories, now—things that had come to him since that first unlocking. Matty had never felt so alone in his life before. Always, there'd bee
n someone, his government, his handler, his colleagues or his friends and family there for him. Now the world as he remembered it was gone, lost to an Event at which he could only guess. He wished he could get back in the cryo tube and just stay there, forget everything and be forgotten, languish forever.

  He couldn't do that, he knew, and now he had to deal with what he had learned and figure out how to survive in his new reality. It was going to be difficult and it was going to be frustrating. Perhaps ignorance really was bliss; he hadn't felt this upset and unnerved when he had few to no memories.

  "You've got an appointment with Dr. Johnson when you finish eating your breakfast." Bill's voice broke into Matty's thoughts. "Eat up so we can get going. We don't want to keep him waiting."

  "I'm not really all that hungry," Matty said.

  "You should eat it anyway. You need to keep yourself going and nourishment from good food is the best way to do that. Besides, waste is not something you want to get into the habit of."

  Matty wanted to tell Bill that there had been so much waste before, of land, water, resources, food, everything, that he'd be horrified and disbelieving. Instead he kept silent and ate the meal he'd been given without really tasting it. To him, it was an automatic process of shoveling food into his mouth, chewing and swallowing. Flavor didn't really matter today.

  When he finished, Bill took his plates and cutlery away and Matty stretched out his legs, leaning back in the hard plastic seat in which he sat. How could he get out of this clinic and into the city? Who did he need to see to get that ball rolling? How could he find Arkady? He mulled it over as Bill returned and gestured for him to follow.

  As they walked down more whitewashed corridors with closed doors, Matty wondered how large the clinic was. It seemed that it was enormous, given that it took a while to get to Dr. Andrews office from the mess hall and several minutes to get from his own room to the mess hall. What was all this space used for? It couldn't just be for the cryo units, surely. So it was that he was surprised when they turned a corner and Bill opened a pair of double doors.

  "After you," Bill said.

  "Thanks." Matty entered the office of Dr. Johnson and looked around. This space was large, opulent, and had once had doorways, like the library. Also like the library, those doorways were bricked closed. They were covered too with filmy curtains and flanked by thick, heavy drapes, more to provide some sort of color than out of any real need. The floor was carpeted in pale gray plush wool; the furniture was plain and simple. A large desk stood at the far end of the room; behind it sat Dr. Johnson.

  "Have a seat," Dr. Johnson said.

  Matty did so, and Bill pulled another chair up to the table to join him.

  "The rest of the doctors who work in cryo, Arnold the physio, Dr. Andrews, and I met last night. We discussed your progress and we all agreed that it's time for you to move into the general population of our underground city. We've arranged a mentor for you, who has found you a place to live and will help you get clothing and food for the first month. He'll also assist you with finding work so you'll be able to be self-sufficient. It is our hope that you'll become a valued member of our community."

  Matty gaped at him, not quite sure that he believed his ears. Only ten minutes ago, he had been wondering how to get out of the clinic and here he was, sitting with the offer of doing exactly that presented to him on a silver platter. He closed his mouth and shook his head.

  "I'm stunned," he said. "I was hoping that this would happen soon, I didn't really think—"

  "You've been under our care long enough. Psychologically, you're ready. Dr. Andrews has no concerns about your mental health and believes you'll adjust quickly and that your memories will return faster when you are able to contribute in a meaningful way to the world. Physically, Arnold is pleased with your progress and believes that being among people and living a regular life will be good for you. The rest of us agree."

  "Wow," Matty said. "When… where… how does this work?"

  "Your mentor is named Paul," Dr. Johnson said. Matty felt his heart jump at the name. "He's a good man, a respected member of society here. He works in the agriculture unit, helping with the solar panel system that provides enough sunlight and power for our hydroponics gardens from where we harvest our food. I've spoken to him about helping you and he's told me there's a few jobs going in that sector, if you're interested in something else, there's also a teaching position available at the high school, and a position available at the newspaper, if you're interested in either of those. Either way, he'll guide you through the processes and he's got an apartment ready for you. It's small, he tells me, but it's secure and contains all the necessary utilities."

  "That's just amazing. I can't… wow. Thank you, Doctor. I can't believe this. This is incredible."

  Dr. Johnson smiled. "I'm always pleased when one of our cryo patients is able to go into the city and live a normal life. The rest of the clinic is available to our citizens, that's separate from here. That's why you haven't seen any of them. This area is specifically for cryo patients, and continues to be their first call for medical care. Should you get sick or injured—although that hopefully doesn't occur—you'll be brought here for treatment, rather than the regular facility. We're still not completely sure what, if any, long term effects there are for people who have come out of cryo, we need to maintain your good health, both mental and physical."

  "Sure. I understand that." Matty nodded vigorously.

  "As you've expressed interest in the library, you'll still have access to that building. You won't need to be escorted any longer, you're coming along nicely and there's no sign that you'll fall or injure yourself and be unable to get help now. Paul has maps for you, and will help you get around if you get lost. Everything is very well set out, I think you'll find it a vast improvement to being in here with nothing to do." This was said with a smile.

  Matty chuckled at that. "Was my boredom getting obvious?"

  "A little." Dr. Johnson leaned forward, clasping his hands together on his desk. "I know you don't have much at the moment, tonight's your last night here, so pack what you have and at 9 a.m., Bill will take you out to meet Paul and you'll go from there."

  Matty nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

  Dr. Johnson stood up and extended a hand. Matty took it and they shook firmly.

  "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. MacDougall. I hope you enjoy your new life."

  Matty nodded again. "Likewise. I'm sure I will."

  Dr. Johnson looked over at Bill as he released Matty's hand. "That'll be all for today."

  "Yes, sir. Come on, Matty."

  Matty followed Bill out of the office, feeling euphoria bubbling up inside him. He couldn't believe his luck. Bill led the way back to the mess hall, Matty followed him, unable to stop smiling.

  "You want to ask any questions about the city outside?" Bill asked him as they returned to the mess hall.

  Matty nodded. "I do, I've got so many, I don't know where to start. How many people live here?"

  Bill pursed his lips. "Around ten thousand or so. We're sort of spread out around the agriculture unit. Where the food is."

  That was a tiny number compared to the billions that had once lived in New York City. Matty frowned a little. "So few?"

  "The Event was a terrible thing. It destroyed a lot of lives."

  "Okay, what exactly was this Event?"

  Bill shook his head. "I don't want to speak about it."

  Matty ground his teeth together in frustration. "Fine. Obviously there's a newspaper if there's a job going there, are there more than one? No one seems to read anymore, going by the state of the library, so what do the kids at the schools study?"

  "There's only one newspaper, which seems to be a surprise to you, judging by your expression. There's two schools, elementary school and high school. They study from set texts provided by the council who govern the city."

  "What about the government?"

  Bill's expression was blank. "
The what?"

  "Government. Isn't there a governing party, a President of the United States?"

  "Never heard of anything like that. Maybe only in old stories."

  Matty canted his head to one side. "You're telling me that there's no single government that governs the whole country?"

  "No, why would there be? That sounds like foolishness. How can one group of people govern or control an entire country? Ridiculous. Each underground settlement has its own council, that's how it works."

  "What about trade?"

  "There's a bit of that. Not much, because there's not a lot of tunnels to other cities and towns."

  "How do you communicate with each other? I mean, do you have telephones, the Internet, what?"

  Bill frowned at that. "Those are evils from the time of the Event. No one has those anymore. We have mail between people here in our city, I'm sure the others do as well. If our council needs to communicate with another council, they use Morse Code."

  "You don't have phones or the Internet, yet you use solar power. How do you figure that?"

  "We have procedures in place for that. There are robots that take care of the panels, I told you that a while ago. When they wear out, they return to the agriculture unit and are replaced. We have computers to take care of them, to monitor the biofuel and that's their sole function."

  Matty struggled with it. "Some technology's okay, most isn't?"

  "We make do." Bill's voice had taken on a defensive note.

  "I'm sorry. Of course, it's all good. I'm just trying to understand."

  That seemed to relax him and Bill shook his head. "You'll get used to it."

  "I hope so," Matty said.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  He was packed and ready, sitting on his bed and waiting for Bill before the clock had hit 7 a.m. To say that Matty was eager to leave was an understatement. He jiggled one leg as he sat staring at the door, only shifting to look at the passage of time on the clock's dial. The minutes seemed to tick past in long, agonizingly slow hours.

  Finally, at 8 a.m., a knock came on his door, and Bill entered. Matty grabbed up the backpack he'd found in the small cabinet in his room to put his meagre belongings in and shouldered it quickly. He'd been careful to hide the pamphlet he'd found inside the interior lining of the bag, so that if it was searched, the only things that would be found would be a few clothes—the ones the clinic had provided him and said he could have—along with a toothbrush, toothpaste, a towel, soap, and the books he'd borrowed from the library.