Walking Ghost Phase (42 page)

Through her blurry vision, Emily watched the screen change again. Now the picture showed a simple door in the Greaver hallways. Two MPs pushed it open. Inside the room, Matt was lying on his bed and reading one of the military tomes.
“Come with us,” an MP said.

Matt seemed hesitant, but he stood and followed the MPs. Moments later they stopped at a blank section of wall. Ripples, like waves in the ocean, flowed through the wood, and a new door appeared out of nothingness.
“Step inside.” After Matt did, the door slammed shut.

The room, pure white and no larger than Emily
's bedroom, was empty—no furniture, no pictures, no clocks. A wobbling sound, as if the room rode on an unbalanced tire, filled the air. The far wall rippled with more waves, and Matt planted his back against the door. The face of a gray-haired man materialized from the paint. “Matthew Holcomb?”

Matt nodded.

The image grew larger, and now the man came into full view. Behind him, white-coats scrambled around the background of rusted beams and broken windows. “It's good to finally meet you.”

“
Who are you?”

“
I'm Dr. Paul Stevens, an Army psychologist. Do you know where you are? Do you know where I am?”

“
I assume you're with our bodies. Did you stop Logner?”

“
You don't remember the incident?”

“
No. I lost consciousness when—” Matt looked around the room. “—this thing started.”

“
But you recall everything up to that moment?”

“
Yes.”

“
We suspected as much.” Stevens held up a brown folder and opened it. “If Logner had access to this file, I doubt we'd be talking right now. You had your tonsils removed when you were six years old and remembered the entire operation. A traumatic event for any child, I'm sure.” Stevens turned the page. “Separated your shoulder in a bicycle wreck at age eleven. Once again, you gave details of the surgical procedure only a conscious person could have known. We call this phenomenon Anesthesia—”

“
Awareness,” Matt interrupted. “I know what it is, Doc, so get to the point. My memories have returned. Why am I still here?”

“
The sequence used by the device has a delay between the time your memories are altered and the moment of entry into the simulation. We hypothesize that you regained your memories within that window. Do you know why?”

“
I heard Logner talking about his objective after he thought I was under.” Matt rubbed his temples. “Knowing the inevitable kind of defeats the purpose, I guess.”

Stevens lowered his head and slowly nodded.
“So you understand what's going to happen?”

“
I do, and I've accepted it.”

“
This is a hell of a mess, son. I'm sorry it happened to you and your friends. But we're here now. We're going to end this. We'll have you out in a few minutes.”

“
What about them? Emily, Sarah, Raven?”

“
The program has to run to its conclusion. That's the only way we can retrieve them with their memories intact. They'll come out eventually.”

Behind Stevens came a piercing scream.
“You liar.” The same woman who had stepped off the helicopter shoved her finger in Stevens' face. “He deserves to know.” Two soldiers grabbed the woman and pulled her out of view. “Tell him,” she continued to scream.

“
Mrs. Heath?” Matt shouted. “Mrs. Heath?”

Stevens disappeared from the screen, and Mrs. Heath
's frantic screams stopped. When he returned, he glanced left. “Halt the extraction procedure.”

“
What are you not telling me?” Matt asked. “What are you hiding?”

“
Matthew, the computer runs an algorithm whereby it analyzes multiple potential outcomes. Once it discovers the most probable outcome toward achieving the objective, the computer engages that scenario.”

“
English, Doc.”

“
The system is going to look for the best way to make their lives a living hell until they concede that death is preferable to prolonged misery. Raven McDonald and Sarah Winston have a 99.9 percent chance of achieving the objective under the current scenario. Once they do, the computer will release their memories and expel them from the system. They're going to make it out. As we speak, Raven McDonald is already nearing her completion. Sarah Winston will follow her a week or so later.”

“
What about Emily?”

Stevens rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“The computer ran a million scenarios against her personality. The highest percent of probable success it could achieve came in around eight percent. The computer accepted that scenario. She is stubborn.”

“
You have no idea,” Matt said under his breath. “What happens to her if she doesn't…” Matt swallowed. “…accept her death.”

“
The program will continue to run until she dies out here or falls below a certain outcome probability in there. If the latter situation occurs, or if we pull her out manually, she will do so without her memories.”

“
What does that mean? And don't lie to me, Doc.”

“
She won't recognize her parents. She'll still think her father is dead. Her childhood—gone. Beyond what she has learned in the program, she won't remember anything about you, Sarah Winston or Raven McDonald. For the remainder of her short life, she'll be a fragment of who she once was.”

Not hesitating
, Matt answered. “Don't extract me.”

“
Your parents are out here, Matthew. They want to see you before you...pass.”

“
Tell them I love them, but I'm not coming back without Emily. They'll understand.”

“
You can't help her. You can't come out and tell her the world is imaginary. It's all she knows. Her mind is convinced.”

“
I'll make her see the truth.”

“
If you interfere, her scenario probability might fall to an unacceptable level.”

“
Eight percent,” Matt shouted. “Eight percent. You know as well as I do that eight percent is pretty much a guaranteed failure. The way I see it, I get to spend my time with her in good health, not in a hospital bed while we watch each other die. Even if I fail—” Matt shook his head. “—I won't fail.”

“
What's your plan?”

“
The same thing I've always done. I'll gain her trust. When the time comes, she'll believe me.”

“
She might. However, you cannot inform her of the truth right now. We already ran that scenario. It does
not
result in success.”

Matt nodded.
“Doc, no matter what, don't pull me out until she's safe.”

“
I can't make any promises, but while you're inside, I'll do what I can to help you. Good luck, Matthew.”

The camera panned out. Near the far wall of the warehouse, four unconscious people were lying on gurneys. Sensors wrapped around their heads, IVs strung along their arms. A row of computers beside them flashed and beeped. Then the camera zoomed in on a particular face.

Emily's face.

The screen went blank.

Emily cupped her hands over her mouth, leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. “No.” Tears rolled down her fingers. “This is a dream. I'm going to wake up. It's the Sim. I'm still in the Sim.”

“
You are, just not the one you think.” The voice was too familiar.

Emily glanced up.

Across from her and sitting on the floor, Matt rubbed a loose strand of his frayed jeans through his fingers. He looked the same as the day he boarded the transport. “The purpose of this entire program was to train soldiers to accept their deaths, to make them fight until the end without hesitation or remorse, to remove the primal instinct of fight or flight. Logner needed participants for his experiment, and his bomb provided four people, four lifelong friends.”

“
Friends? You left me here.”

Behind Matt, the screen changed to an image of the white room. He was standing with his back against the wall as Stevens
' digital face stared down at him. “Matthew, we have a serious issue. Emily has fallen below her safety threshold.” Stevens sighed. “In my line of work I never thought I'd say this. You've made her too happy. The system is preparing to eject her.”

“
Tell me how to stop it.”

“
Her death scenario is playing out as we speak. She isn't the target, but her personality will put her directly in the conflict.”

“
I won't let her do it.” Matt stepped out of the room.

The screen changed again, this time to an image of Matt wearing a hospital gown and sitting on the edge of a gurney. A crying woman and man hugged him as Stevens watched another doctor check Matt
's heart. When the doctor shined a light in Matt's eyes, Emily saw the rage.

“
Excellent plan,” Stevens said. “Your death has boosted her outcome chances to nearly thirty percent.”

Matt jumped off the gurney, struggling to keep his balance.
“Not good enough. Send me back.”

“
Matthew, we don't know how.”

“
Figure it out.”

The screen went blank.

“They manipulated John?” Emily asked. “Did he get out?”

“
So you're starting to believe this isn't real?”

“
I didn't say that.”

“
Then why don't you ask him?” Matt nodded toward something behind Emily.

Emily turned,
and her face was a few inches from the green pants of someone. She looked up. John Simmons loomed over her, staring ahead, his expression blank. Emily fell back on her elbows and scrambled to Matt's side.

Matt didn
't move. “Identify,” he said.

“
My program designation is JS-229,” John said. “My personality is based on the extracted memories of John Franklin Simmons, age 22. I am outfitted with standard level infantry-combat subroutines.”

Emily rose to her feet and slowly approached John.
“He's not real?”

“
No,” Matt said. “Neither are they.”

Emily sensed the presence behind her. Damon, Stallings, Rizzo and Maggie were standing in perfect military posture, their faces blank like John
's.

“
Identify,” Matt said again.

The four soldiers began to recite the
ir names—a cacophony of voices pounding on Emily's eardrums, digging at her brain. She shoved her hands over her ears. “Make them stop.”

At once, the hall went silent, and Emily lowered her hands.

“Stallings, continue identify,” Matt said.

“
—my personality is based on Wade Victor Stallings, age 47, and Richard Albert Logner, age 55.”

“
After my funeral,” Matt said, “Logner's personality replaced the nice Captain.” He held her shoulders. “Em, we were fighting a computer program. You saw how predictable they acted in the Sim.”

Emily stared at the floor.
“You knew. It's how you won.”

The wall flashed alive again, showing the interior of Logner
's warehouse. A heart monitor beeped as the woman from the helicopter held Emily's hand. “I'm here, baby. Please, wake up. Please.”

“
She wants to see you,” Matt said. “Your dad, too. He's not dead. The program simply made you think he was. And Raven and Sarah…they're also out there…they miss you.” Matt pulled Emily against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “But we don't have much time.”

Her body trembled.
“This can't be happening. It's a dream.”

“
It's not. You know it's not. Em…we're going to die.”

For a moment she just cried as Matt rubbed the back of her head. But he wasn
't touching her shaved scalp. Blond hair now flowed along her cheeks. “They can alter this world, right? We can stay here. Make it like home?”

“
That's not how this works.”

“
They can try,” she screamed.

“
We planned on a life together. College. Marriage. A house someday. The dog.” He let out a short laugh. “Blizzard, the white husky. Those were our dreams. The way we wanted our lives.” He gently tipped up her chin and looked her in the eyes. “Things don't always work out the way we'd like. If you want to stay, I'm not going anywhere this time. But I'd rather see you complete again. I want you to remember our dreams of a life together. The dreams that made you happy. But we can't share those here in this false world. Out there, we can still die together. We can still have our final dream.”

“
I'd like that,” she said. Her voice was barely a whisper.