Cathedral of Dreams (14 page)

Keith kept his head down. He said, “I did know, but not until late. It's just…”

“Just what?”

“I thought that the illusion would have looked like each of you. It sounds ridiculous now that I think about it. How could the boy look like a girl? But when I realized he was me, it made no sense that he would appear that way to everyone.” He sighed again and let his shoulders rise so that he could look up at Stacy. Had Nellie known the boy was him?

Stacy sat down on the ground in front of him. “It's okay. We'll help you through this.”

“It's an omen,” one of the men behind her said. “It's coming for us. You didn't think you could escape that easily, did you?”

Stacy turned around and shushed him. “Ben, we can talk about this later. Right now, we've got to help Keith relax.”

Ben pushed through the others. His build matched Keith's in many ways, even his height. “The Newcity system reaches farther than any of us could know. Even through him,” Ben said.

Stacy gently raised Keith's arm. “Look, Ben, the chip has been removed. It's over. He's free.” She turned to Keith. “You don't see or hear from the boy — yourself — any more, do you?”

“I've only heard his voice recently,” Keith said.

Her shoulders dropped and she let go of his arm. “Still? After all this time?”

“Only once.” He tried to recover.

“I'm telling you,” Ben said.

Stacy turned to Ben. “There's got to be an explanation. Maybe the fact that it's his image the complex was using has him confused about whether it's the complex or him. He can't tell them apart yet.”

“It could be that he's chipped in more than one place. He could be filled with the things. Or his brain chemistry has been altered. There are so many possibilities that we could never guess at. What I do know is that I don't like it. We need to be very careful here.” Ben lowered onto his haunches near Stacy. “We've got to know more about him, and we have to be on the lookout for something to happen.” He placed a hand onto her shoulder. “We need to tell Bradley about this. Let him know that Keith isn't just one of us. That he may, in fact, be one of them.”

Stacy didn't look too sure about that idea.

Chapter 10

K
eith retired to his tent as much by his own admission as to the suggestion of Stacy and the others. They needed to convene among themselves, he knew, and he welcomed the time to be alone. He had to think things through, as much as they did. His first concern was the connection between the main group where Bradley and his mother lived, and the escapees. Why were their living areas separated? Why didn't the escapees mingle freely with the others, the outsiders? Why hadn't his mother visited him? And the biggest question for him was why he had to keep his experiences from everyone?

Inside Newcity all residents were expected to be honest, for the most part. Deception brought on violence and caused emotional distress.

Keith tried to decide on a reason for being asked to lie, but couldn't come up with anything except that Bradley might want information the others don't have as a hierarchical power. And that wasn't a good thing in any society, as Keith understood it.

He sat up and crossed his legs. The pack lay in the rear corner of the tent, so he reached across and grabbed it. Opening each compartment, one at a time, he took a quick inventory of food, including some fresh fruit and a box of crackers. There was a separate packet containing a shaving kit, toothbrush, and soaps of several kinds. Two towels occupied another compartment. And there was also a pen and notebook, which he seldom used in Newcity, but might be useful here. He remembered how to write, but the going was slow at first, even though he just wrote down a few things: meeting his mother and the others, the ride in the van, and his early breakfast. He tried to describe the sunrise, but could hardly grasp the words. “Amazing” and “beautiful” didn't capture his feelings.

After he put the notebook back into the pack, he left the tent with the bath supplies to get cleaned up. The other escapees watched him leave, but looked over at Stacy for directions. She held up her hand and they went back to whatever it was that they were doing.

Keith turned onto the side path with the orange guide ribbon and wandered downhill. The sound of the outdoors grabbed his attention right away. The rustling of leaves overhead from the breeze whispered, while the rustling of leaves under foot scratched and crackled. But it wasn't just those sounds—there was something about the quality that announced that they were outside in the open air. The sounds had depth.

The smells of morning refreshed him in ways he couldn't describe. Everything he neared had its own odor, some earthy, some sweet. A long vine climbed up a tree and hung down like a bushy flowering plant. its pink blossoms smelling like honey as he passed. He stopped for a moment to take it in. Then the dusty odor of rotting leaves kicked up while he walked. Even the air he breathed opened and closed with new odors as the surrounding vegetation closed in or opened to the morning sun. When he came to a level area where several makeshift showers and toilets had been erected, the odors suddenly turned sour or fresh, depending on what side he stood closer to.

Other people milled around the area. Keith felt watched, but went on as casually as possible under such circumstances. He entered one of the toilets first and when finished there stepped into one of the shower areas. It consisted of two very small chambers, the first with a seat and hook for his clothing and gear and the second contained the actual shower. He had no idea where the water came from but took a very pleasant shower, shaved using a mirror hung on the wall opposite the showerhead, and dried off using the small towel he had brought with him. When he stepped into the room where he had left his clothes, Sam was standing there. Keith pulled the towel in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

Sam smiled pleasantly. “Brought you a change of clothes.” He pointed to the hooks. “I'll take these and have them cleaned and delivered to your tent.” He continued to look at Keith.

“Is there something else?” A sense of awe came from Sam that Keith couldn't quite understand.

“You're different than the others,” he said.

“How so?”

“I don't think I'm supposed to be talking with you until Bradley does.” Sam turned to leave.

“But,” Keith said reaching out to Sam, “I'm talking to you.” He waited for Sam's reaction, but got nothing. “And you wouldn't want to be rude.”

“No, I wouldn't,” Sam said at last.

In a quiet tone, Keith asked Sam, “What's different about me?”

“While inside Newcity, from my understanding, your lives are controlled: how and what you eat, your activities, exercise. That's what has you all looking so similar, at least to us. Anyway, when the others came out, they stopped seeing and hearing things that the complex created, but remained rather passive. They're adjusting slowly to being outside. With you, it's almost as though you've been outside a long time. There is something about your, your, energy or something, that's stronger. Different. Plus, you are still seeing and hearing things. It makes me wonder.”

“What? What's it make you wonder?”

“Well, it makes me wonder which world is prominent for you. And right now, I wonder how you're able to walk in both worlds.” Sam glanced at Keith's chip arm. “Even though you aren't chipped anymore.” Sam pivoted around to leave, then swung back. “I'm sure you know that I heard part of your conversation with Bradley. I don't know what to think about it all, but I do know that I'm not supposed to be talking with you about your experiences. Not until he has a chance to fully debrief you.” He said the last sentence as though talking to himself. “Bradley wouldn't like it.” He looked a little nervous.

“And I won't tell him,” Keith said. “I'm already lying to the escapees about what's happened.”

“That's another thing. Your focusing ability is way stronger than the others.” He reached to open the door and leave.

“Can we talk again sometime?” Keith said.

“Maybe. I'd better go.” And Sam left.

Keith held to the towel in front of him and thought about the conversation, but gained no more insight than a simple exchange between two people. Sam was trying to understand why Keith was different, and Keith was doing the same. The conversation only confirmed his feelings. It was as though he was searching for his true self among the pieces of this stranger who shared his name and body.

He dressed slowly, putting the clean clothes on and checking their fit. Then he rolled his shaving kit and soaps into the towel before he rose to open the door.

Bradley was standing outside. “Have a minute to talk?”

Keith's face became flush. He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks and hoped that Bradley didn't notice the sign of guilt Keith felt was pasted across his chest.

“Well?”

Keith shook his head. “Sure. Yes, this is a fine time.” He held up the bundled towel. “I'll have to bring this with me.”

“We'll drop it by your tent on the way.”

Keith followed Bradley and answered questions concerning his routine inside Newcity. He knew that Bradley was merely making small talk while there was the possibility of others being around. He also noticed a small notebook stuffed in the man's back pocket.

As they entered the area where the escapees were located, the others appeared to be wary of Bradley. They kept their distance and clustered around one another, touching, holding hands. It was strange. Keith threw his bundle into the front of the tent and rushed to follow Bradley farther into the woods. When he caught up to his uncle, he said, “Are they afraid of you for a reason?”

Bradley laughed. “The change is traumatic. They have to have time to adjust. Later, you'll meet a few who have been integrated. They're different than these guys.” He cocked his head toward Keith while they walked. “You may integrate early. You're not going through the same stages as the others. You've probably noticed that they're like a family of farm animals.” He laughed at his own analogy. “Well, maybe you wouldn't notice,” he said. “But here's what happens in a nutshell. At first they don't want to be touched, then they go through a short period of paranoia until they realize that no one is here to hurt them, then they crave comfort. That's where most of these guys are. There are a few who carry their paranoia through the touching, comfort stage, but their fear shifts to us. That's why we keep them a little separate at first. Give them time to adjust without the upheaval of dumping them into a totally new structure.”

“A new structure. So, they're just going from one structure to another one?”

Bradley slowed. “That's all there is. Even complete freedom has its structure: you wake up hungry and forage for food, you create a shelter of some sort, find more food, take a mate, food again. Your body forces one type of structure and your mind another. If you have a need to think, then you find a structure that allows that. The Newcity structure is similar to the schools during the twentieth century. They were created to produce an army of factory workers, people who could be controlled easily, and who could do the same work day in and day out without complaining. Sound familiar?”

“Then what's the difference between being in Newcity and living out here?” Keith asked.

“Free will.” Bradley stepped beyond a small grove of trees into an open space. The hill dropped off swiftly into a field of grass. Hills rolled on for a long time, and mountains stood in the distance. “On the far side those mountains is the ocean. It's beyond explanation. It's power.”

Keith's body filled with the space and the wonder of the landscape that lay before him. There were a few clouds in the sky, and he saw how they created shadows along the ground, adjusting the shades of green and brown. The air rippled in the distance, and when Keith questioned the cause of the illusion, Bradley explained how the heat being generated by the sun rose through the air and created movement as it caught dust and pollen. Shaking his head as though disbelief was stronger than belief, Keith breathed as deeply as he possibly could, until he became light-headed. He wanted to smell the distance, hold to the inspiration.

“Let's sit,” Bradley said. “You've been standing here a long time.”

“It's a lot to look at.”

“This view often frightens the newly freed. It's too grand. You appear as though you can't get enough.” Bradley sat on the ground and motioned for Keith to join him.