by John Akers
Pax looked around the room. It was the same as before, with the shading for the dome turned on again. He realized he did feel grimy, so he walked around the bed to the wall on the other side. To his surprise, an opening appeared. He stepped closer and ran his fingers over the edge. It felt as if it had always been there, as smooth and solid as marble. Pax shook his head. He undressed, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor, and stepped inside.
There was a faint blue luminescence that came from the ceiling, but much fainter than the light in the earlier capsules. Pax could barely see his arm when he raised it up in front of his face. From what he could tell this capsule was considerably narrower, only about five feet wide.
“Please raise your arms over your head and close your eyes,” intoned a soft male voice. Pax did as instructed. Then the voice said, “Please hold for spray rinse.”
Pax felt a light mist covering him, seemingly from every direction. He looked but couldn’t see where it was coming from. There weren’t any nozzles he could see.
Then the spray stopped, and the voice said, “Please hold for particulate consolidation.” The capsule suddenly became warmer, except on the floor. Pax felt a strange sensation, as though his skin was somehow becoming tighter all over. He cracked open his eyes to peek out, but the walls seemed the same color as before. As with the water, there was nothing he could see that suggested the source of the heat.
The heat stopped, and the voice said, “Please hold for particulate separation.” Air began swirling around him rapidly, faster and faster, much like one of the old cyclone simulators in gaming halls. The tight feeling in his skin soon disappeared and left him feeling smooth and clean all over. The entire process had taken less than 90 seconds. The door to the capsule opened again and the voice said, “Cleaning complete.”
Pax stepped back into the room. The clothes he’d left on the floor were gone. He walked over to the bed, unfolded the pants and held them up. They were lighter than he had expected, but otherwise, nothing about them seemed out of the ordinary. He put them on, then the tunic and foot coverings. The latter were little more than thin slippers, although they reached halfway up his calf.
Pax began walking around the room, and to his astonishment, he felt the clothes cinch tighter to his body. Not so that it was uncomfortable, but enough to where the folds didn’t encumber the swinging motion of his arms against his body, or his legs against each other. He stopped walking, and they immediately relaxed again. He repeated it once more just to verify he hadn’t been imagining it, but he clearly felt the constriction and then release. He looked down at the tunic once more and felt all over the front of it with his hands, searching for evidence of its operation. He couldn’t find anything, no wires or controllers of any sort. Whatever it was must be microscopically small, perhaps even embedded into the molecular structure of the fabric itself.
He suddenly felt disoriented, stunned at the situation in which he found himself and at the technology he had seen. He sat down on the edge of the bed. Unsurprisingly, it felt incredibly soft and inviting. Immediately he felt very tired, and before he could think about it, he found himself lying down on his back. He knew he should think about what he’d seen and brainstorm ways to escape, but he felt fatigue seeping into every pore of his body. Soft, ethereal music began playing in the background, and Pax felt his eyes closing. A moment later he was fast asleep.
Chapter 27
Angelo took the capsule down below deck level. It opened into another circular bedroom similar to the one in which he had just left Pax. The only difference was this room also had two chairs near the foot of the bed. Elena was sitting quietly in one, watching the video feeds of Pax’s room on her Univiz. Angelo sat down in the other chair.
“Seems like your tour guide skills put him to sleep,” she joked.
Angelo chuckled. “I think the xenon gas you pumped into his room while he was showering had more to do with that.”
“He needs it. He’s hardly slept at all the past week.”
“Yep. Hopefully, he’ll get a lot of sleep on this trip and have his wits about him when we get to the island.” Angelo stretched his arms up above him. “I could stand to catch 40 winks myself.”
“Hmm. I have a better idea,” she said.
“What?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he glanced over at her. The mischievous smile on her face made him start shaking his head.
“No, Elena. Not now. We’ve got to make sure we get him there safely. We have to stay focused and alert.”
“Oh, come on!” she scoffed. She stood up and in two steps was standing in front of his chair. She leaned over and traced the fingernails of one hand lightly down his chest. She whispered in his ear, “I know what you really want.”
Angelo grabbed at her waist as if to push her away, but before he could, she sat down firmly on his lap and wrapped her legs around the chair’s spine. She leaned forward and kissed him deeply, then moved her mouth near his ear and whispered, “I know you want me.”
“No!”
“Oh, really?” With a lascivious grin, she began slowly gyrating her hips on top of him. In just a few seconds she felt him respond.
“I think you’re a big, fat—liar,” she teased, playfully tapping a finger on his nose.
Angelo put his hands on the ends of the armrests and tried to stand up, but her leg lock thwarted his efforts. As he rose up her thighs bumped into the underside of the chair arms. “Ouch!” she said, smiling. Angelo tried to shift his weight forward so he could stand up, but both Elena and the chair were stuck to him like flypaper.
“Come on, Elena, stop it! You know we can’t do this now!” he said. “We have to make sure nothing happens to him.” He grunted in frustration as he once again tried and failed to extricate himself from her femoral grip.
She groaned and threw her head back. Like twin boa constrictors her legs wrapped tighter around him and the chair, driving her further down onto him.
“Baby, I can’t wait anymore!” she said, her voice husky, insistent. “We’ve been preparing for this trip for weeks with no time for us. Well, we’ve got him now. He’s safe, he’s sleeping, he’s not going anywhere. And that means it’s time to play.”
Angelo groaned and continued to struggle, but she whispered “Shhhhh.” Leaning forward again, she began to kiss and suck on one of his earlobes. Soon he stopped struggling. She leaned back to look at him; his longing was rampant now, and his eyes were locked onto hers.
“You need this as much as I do,” she said. “More even. You’ve been wound tight as a bowstring for weeks. I admit I kind of like it, seeing you in such a military mood. But now it’s time for some R&R, soldier. So stop arguing and take me to bed.” She reached behind her with one hand and traced her fingers up the inside of his upper thigh. Angelo moaned.
Elena leaned forward and whispered, “I’ll even let you wear this,” she caressed the edges of his Univiz, “for that naughty little archive of yours.”
Angelo emitted a guttural cry and grabbed at the front of the chair arms and pulled on them violently. His arms flexed like the knotted roots of an oak tree, and a moment later the plastic coverings on top of the metal armrests shattered as the arms were pulled inexorably upward. With the arms no longer blocking him he held her waist with one arm and stood up. As he did, Elena released her leg grip on the chair and it clattered to the ground.
“Dim lights,” said Angelo, his voice thick with desire. He took one step toward the bed and tossed her unceremoniously onto it on her back. His tunic seemed to sense his mood and all but fell off him as he dropped down roughly on top of her. He began kissing her neck, then moved down her front, causing her to moan and arch her back upward toward him.
“My goodness, baby,” Elena purred, with a delighted smile. “This is going to be wonderful.”
Chapter 28
Saturday, 6:38 PM PT
When Pax woke, the sky was already darkening. He rubbed his eyes and raised his head. When he remembered wher
e he was, his heart sank. He felt good, however, more rested than he had in a long time. “What time is it?” he asked.
“The time is 6:38 p.m., Mr. Pax,” a nondescript male voice said, the sound seeming to come from all around him. “Dinner will be served in 20 minutes.”
Pax rolled out of bed and sat up. He raised his arms and stretched. He was surprised again at how mentally alert he felt. The feeling was so pronounced it made him wonder if they’d been pumping a recuperative drug into the air in his room. Anything was possible, as they were in complete control of the environment.
He ran his hands over the sheets. They felt smooth like satin, but not quite as slippery. Pax stood up and took a couple steps toward the part of the wall where the opening had appeared. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. He turned and walked over to the window on the other side of the bed. The sun was just touching the horizon line, and the ship was still heading almost directly toward it. As he gazed out over the endless expanse of azure, he took stock of his situation.
The good news was, he didn’t appear to be in any imminent physical danger. The bad news was he didn’t seem to have any options for escaping. Without his Univiz, on a ship without a physical control panel, there was no way for him to communicate with the outside world. And on his brief tour of the ship, he hadn’t seen any evidence of a lifeboat. But even if there were one, casting himself adrift on a small boat in the middle of the Pacific seemed far more dangerous than his current situation.
He thought of what he’d seen on the boat since waking up the first time. There was no doubt the technology was extraordinary. He was all but certain it was legitimate and not just artful smoke and mirrors. The truth was, if it hadn’t been for the atrocious timing, he would have been terribly interested in learning more about this quantum computer of theirs. But if there were ever a week I needed not to be abducted by a mysterious society of techno-wizards, this is it.
Pax wondered where and how long they’d been tracking him. Had they bugged his office? His house? The lab? The latter thought sent a chill through him. Had they heard him talking about Project Simon with Jean three days earlier? Did they know he’d had the BCI surgery done on himself? Had they followed him to Cevis’ house and overheard them talking about Project Aegis? His face flushed at the memory of how angry he’d been at Cevis for making him silence his UV. As usual, Cevis had been right.
Suddenly, he remembered the picture of the single-cell organism he’d found in his office. It must have been them. But what message were they trying to send? And why? What did a picture of a prehistoric cell have to do with anything?
He considered how he might try to incapacitate Angelo so he could then force Elena to redirect the ship to the nearest port. But the idea of physically subduing Angelo without a weapon of any sort was laughable. He outweighed Pax by at least 75 pounds and was in far superior physical condition. Plus, the thought of the repercussions he might suffer if he tried and failed was not appealing.
Suddenly, the room voice said “Elena is outside your door, Mr. Pax. Would you like to let her in?”
“Do I have a choice?” he replied. A few seconds passed, then the door opened and Elena entered.
She took one step in, then casually leaned back against the wall just after the opening had closed back up. She still wasn’t wearing her Univiz.
“Hello, Mr. Pax. How are you feeling?”
“I haven’t suffered another neuromuscular meltdown if that’s what you mean.”
Elena gave a thin smile. “According to the Infinet, complete abstention from a Univiz for 72 hours clears up most cognitive disorders caused by Univiz overexposure.”
“What do you mean, ‘cognitive disorders caused by Univiz overexposure?’” Pax said.
“Surely you’re aware there are several medical disorders which have had their neurological underpinnings traced to wearing a Univiz for more than eight hours a day?”
“I’ve heard there have been some studies, but nothing conclusive ever resulted from any of them.” It was partly a lie—Pax had personally reviewed most of the studies himself. But it was true that none had found a conclusive negative effect. Several had found significant correlations, but none had demonstrated a clear causal link.
With a half-smile, Elena said, “Our society has had the benefit of the Infinet’s being able to perform a meta-analysis of all relevant research, including VR headsets worn by gamers. Taken collectively, there’s greater than a 98 percent probability that wearing a UV more than eight hours a day leads to higher incidences of various conditions including ADHD, depression, substance abuse, and anxiety.”
Pax felt himself getting angry. “Are you suggesting the seizure I suffered earlier was my fault because I wear a Univiz most of the day? Nothing to do with the fact I was attacked in my home in the middle of the night, then awakened to find myself paralyzed and taken from my home by complete strangers?
“No,” Elena said. “I’m saying your cognition has become so dependent on your Univiz that lack of access to it, on top of being placed in a highly stressful situation, made you vulnerable to a neural activity surge that could turn into a seizure.”
“Oh, so you’re a doctor then?” he asked sarcastically.
“No. But the Infinet knows far more than all the doctors in the world combined.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “People aren’t born wearing a Univiz, Mr. Pax. We’re not designed to wear an electronic headset that hijacks our perceptual and cognitive systems for most of our waking hours. But more than half the people on the planet do exactly that.”
“Right. Because their lives are far better off because of it.” Pax said.
“It is an amazing device,” said Elena. “But the reason people wear it as much as they do is because the Univiz is the best dopamine delivery mechanism ever invented. The reinforcement UV users receive from being noticed and liked by others, from getting instant answers to questions, and so on, creates a physiological dependency. If you suddenly take all that away, people suffer physical withdrawal symptoms. Place someone in a highly stressful situation on top of that, and you’ve got a recipe for a neurological meltdown, as you called it. That’s a large part of the reason we’re making this trip by boat. To give you time to decompress and return to a normal cognitive state.”
Her casual tone infuriated Pax. He felt like hurling himself over the bed at her, but he was still cognizant of his situation. For all he knew, Angelo was waiting right outside in the hallway.
“Gee, thanks, Nurse Ratched,” he said. “Exactly how will you know when I’m cured of this horrible affliction?”
“When the microscopic biomonitors we put in you tell us.”
“What?!” shouted Pax. Without thinking he took two steps around the bed toward her. “I already have my own biomonitors!”
“But the only way to access their data is through your Univiz,” said Elena. She hadn’t moved a muscle in response to Pax’s approach. “And we can’t let you do that since it would automatically broadcast your current geolocation.”
Pax noted the way she said this implied they’d brought Gabe with them. The thought gave him hope.
“I guess I can look forward to continued violations of my privacy and my rights, whenever you or this Infinet thing feels like it?” he asked.
“All the biomonitors will flush out of your system in three days’ time.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “It’s interesting that you mention the issue of privacy though. I’ve often wondered what back-door access Omnitech’s executives might have into the data provided by its five billion customers. Do you have some ‘humanity dashboard’ that you and the other executives use to figure out new ways of extracting even more money from your users?”
“Omnitech’s privacy policy is publicly available,” Pax said icily. “If you have questions about what we do with the data we gather from our users, I suggest you start there.”
”As a matter of fact, I have read it, after the Infinet parsed out all the legal gobb
ledygook. It says, not in so many words, of course, that after Omnitech anonymizes the data, it can do whatever it wants with it. Including selling it to third parties.”
“I’m not about to discuss any of our business practices with you,” Pax said.
“Of course not. Guess we’ll just have to hope the handful of people at the top of the world’s biggest company choose to behave honorably.”
Pax felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand rigidly on end. “Who the hell are you to lecture me about ethical behavior?” he yelled. “You attacked me in my home! You drugged me and abducted me and now are dragging me to who the hell knows where! Just who the hell do you think you are?”
He started walking toward her, his back rigid and his arms flexed. Elena pushed lightly off the wall and faced him squarely, her arms at her sides. “Please calm down, Mr. Pax,” she said calmly.
“Fuck you!” he screamed at her, the full anxiety of the past several hours boiling over. “How dare you patronize me and imply I’m dishonest? I want this goddamn boat turned around, right now!”
He lunged toward her, arms outstretched. Suddenly her hands darted, impossibly fast, in between his and then outward, knocking his arms wide open. As her hands landed on his shoulders, he felt pressure on the backs of his knees. The next thing he knew he was staring at his feet, with the darkened glass of the ceiling above them. Elena was standing over him, holding one of his hands in hers. Her left thumb was pressing gently on the back of his right hand, turning his palm inward, and when he tried to twist away a sharp pain shot along the length of his arm and forced him to relax. In less than a second, she had completely immobilized him.
“I’m sorry I upset you, Mr. Pax,” Elena said in exactly the same voice she had used before. “But please calm down.”
At first, Pax was too shocked to reply. After a moment, he recovered enough to say, “Okay. I’m calm,” although he was unable to keep his voice from quavering.