The Dream Cloud, page 16
part #2 of Akropolis Series
Bear stepped up to her immediately, all trace of joviality disappearing.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“The East Tunnel,” she panted, chest heaving with exertion. “A train is coming.”
Revelation
He was standing in the gardens, admiring the new strain of azaleas that had been planted. He always noticed when a new hybrid was put out. It was one of the few pleasures he indulged in, and these were especially fascinating. Rather than just the singular color to the flower, the petals now held striations of various hues, ranging from pink to yellow to purple. It was as if a rainbow had been imbued into the flowers.
“They’re pretty, aren’t they?”
Trey looked down at the boy by his side, a straw-haired lean-faced kid that was still a few years from puberty. He stood with his hands in his pockets and a strange expression on his face. Trey would have labeled it wistful or even sad, but what did a boy in Akropolis know of sadness?
“Yes, they are pretty,” he agreed.
“They were my mother’s favorite.”
“Oh?”
Trey caught the past tense usage and realized that he’d been mistaken. Perhaps the boy did know something of loss.
“Where is your parent?” Trey asked, looking around the gardens at the various people milling about or going to and fro.
“He’s talking to the councilman,” the kid replied, never tearing his gaze away from the azaleas.
A bee was hovering over the flowers as if it couldn’t decide which one to perch upon.
Trey spotted the councilman and the boy’s parent conversing, but he couldn’t make out the man since his back was turned to them.
“He must be pretty important to have a conversation without an appointment.”
“I guess so,” the boy said gloomily, still staring at the flowers.
Trey felt a twinge of something, a flash, a feeling that morphed into a memory. And then it came to him. He recalled the night he missed Hannah’s first dance recital. It had been called “A Present for the Princess”, and while he was supposed to be on leave for that week, duty had intervened. A few nights later, when he’d arrived home and was tucking her into bed, he had explained to her how sorry he was and how much he had wanted to be there. Her reply of “I know, Daddy” had been delivered in almost the same exact tone the boy had just used.
“Did you know that the azalea used to be a symbol of femininity?”
The boy broke his gaze and looked up at Trey quizzically.
“It’s true; they are flowers you would give to someone that you love. But here’s the kicker…its leaves and nectar are also extremely toxic.”
“Really?”
Trey nodded.
“In ancient times, a people called the Turks used to
purposely feed bees the flowers so that they produced a very lethal honey. They called it ‘mad honey’.”
The boy was hooked.
“Why would they do that?”
“There were a couple of reasons, but the most significant one was when a Greek army was invading their territory. Do you know about the ancient Greeks?”
“Yes, I’ve read about them in the Five Great Dialogues.”
Trey smiled, more than a little impressed. Philosophical texts were pretty dry reading for him, let alone for kids.
“Well, the Turks knew the Greeks were fond of honey, so they left behind their beehives in advance of the army. When the Greeks found the hives, they couldn’t believe their luck. They camped nearby for the night and had a bit of a feast, seasoning their fish with the honey, making sweets, and just eating it by the handfuls.”
With wide eyes the boy asked, “What happened?”
“They grew terribly ill, so ill in fact that many of them died, and those that didn’t were slaughtered when the Turks came into their camp in the middle of the night. Thus ended the fate of a single army…over honey.”
“That’s pretty neat,” the boy said, cracking a hint of a smile.
Trey gave him one in return.
The boy turned and pointed to the flowers.
“Does the nectar hurt the bees?”
“Not these flowers,” Trey explained. “The toxins in these flowers have been genetically removed. Now, they are just pretty to look at. But the bees still love them.”
“That’s good,” the boy said sincerely. “I wouldn’t want the bees to get hurt.”
“Me neither.”
They stood in silence for a moment before the boy turned to him.
“You’re the one they call the Major, aren’t you?”
Trey tilted his head.
“What makes you say that?”
The boy pointed to the badge on his shoulder.
“I’ve seen that…in a book. It’s from the Corps…or it used to be.”
“You’re a pretty smart kid, you know that?”
He shrugged, slightly sheepish, but there was a grin on his face.
“Do you always carry a weapon?” the boy asked, hesitantly pointing to the sidearm Trey kept in his holster.
“This?” Trey said, looking down. “Yes…I guess I do. It’s about the only thing I’ve kept form the Old World.”
“Have you…have you ever used it?”
Trey smirked.
“Not inside Akropolis.”
“Did you use it when the fallen sanctuary came to destroy us?”
“Where did you hear about that?” Trey asked, frowning.
The boy glanced quickly in the direction of his father and back again, but didn’t answer. It was obvious though.
Trey thought of that last battle, of the thousands that had somehow made it across the wasteland, dying of rad poising, buoyed by iodine infused drugs and mad with hunger and thirst. They had come in their old war machines and had fought like wild animals to the last man and woman. It had been a dark day, killing people that no longer had the sense to know they would have been welcomed in peace.
The boy was waiting for a response. Instead of giving him one, Trey opted to skirt the subject. He patted behind the pistol, to a rectangular shaped object about four inches long with a handle.
“Do you know what this is?”
The boy shook his head, eyes fastened on it as if he’d never asked his previous question.
Trey pulled out the short barreled object.
“This is a neural dampener. It’s what we use these days. It fires little nodes that attach and create a pulse that incapacitates a human with no harm whatsoever. It’s almost like putting someone to sleep instantly.”
“Wow,” the kid said. “What about synthetics? Will it work on them?”
“No,” Trey replied. “For those instances we have this.”
He reached over to his opposite hip and withdrew the EMP baton.
“This is the EMP baton. It basically disrupts the quantum signature to the areas of the brain but doesn’t harm the processor in its housing case.”
“How do you use it?”
Trey flicked the button and a light blue glow emanated from the tip.
“You just tap them with this when it’s on. The lightest touch will do the trick.”
The boy glanced up at him.
“Can I?”
Trey passed it over, handle first.
“Have at it. It’s harmless to you.”
The kid took the baton, a boyish grin on his face, and reached up with a finger.
Two things happened at that moment. From off to the side Trey heard someone yell out a name he didn’t recognize, and the other, the kid touched the tip of the baton with his finger…and immediately collapsed to the ground unconscious.
“The matrix is unstable. I’m uncertain if it will hold. There is every possibility of collapse.”
“He looks fine,” Trey said stubbornly, nodding towards a corner of the room where the boy was lying on the floor and doodling on a large piece of paper, headphones in his ears, head bobbing slightly to an unheard rhythm.
The doctor lowered his voice so that it was barely perceptible.
“Looks can be deceiving. This is a process, and while I have high hopes that the problem has been solved, I am prepared for the opposite.”
“So am I,” Trey said resolutely.
“No…you’re not.”
Trey turned his cold gaze upon the doctor.
“You don’t understand my resolve in this situation.”
“I understand desperation,” the doc replied vehemently. “I understand obsession. I understand how quickly hope can turn into horror and then just as quickly into guilt. You may think you are prepared for either outcome, but you are blinded by your own desire.”
Trey reached out and grabbed the doc by the cuff of his lab coat, wadding up the collars in both of his hands. When he pulled the man close he could see that there was a deep sadness, or what might be considered pity stamped across his face. It made Trey furious.
“You listen to me, you sniveling shit,” he growled, wanting nothing more than to smash the doctor’s expression into submission. “You’re going to do what I ask or I’m going to expose you. How long do you think they’ll let you keep your pet project going when everyone in Akropolis knows?”
The doctor’s expression didn’t change. If anything, the pitying look deepened.
“This is not who you are.”
“I know who the hell I am,” Trey replied through gritted teeth. “I’m a father.”
“If you expose my project, we both lose,” the doctor pleaded. “And that’s exactly what you’ll be doing if you make me go through with this. I can’t risk it, not until I’m certain.”
Trey released the man’s lab coat and glanced at the boy in the corner who was oblivious to the exchange taking place. It could have been Hannah there, dark curly locks obscuring most of her face. Her tongue would be protruding from the corner of her mouth, as it always did when she was concentrating or focused.
A cold feeling washed over Trey as he realized his only course of action. When he turned back to the doctor, there was something in his face that made the man step back.
“I could kill you,” Trey said evenly. “Right here and right now.”
Eyes wide with disbelief, the doc backpedaled, but he couldn’t go far. The wall was at his back in two steps. Trey advanced on him.
“I could kill you in front of your boy. After that, I’m not sure what would happen.”
It was somewhat true. He wasn’t sure if he could do what he threatened, but neither did he believe he couldn’t.
“Y-you’re insane,” came the words with a gasp.
“Maybe,” Trey admitted. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I just have nothing left to lose.”
He took a step closer.
“Think quickly, Doc.”
Another step.
Hannah
The doctor’s eyes glanced to the boy and back several times. He licked his lips, cheek twitching.
“Okay,” he said, hands up, placating. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
Trey stepped back, giving the man some breathing room. He should have felt satisfied, or perhaps even hopeful; at the least relieved. Instead, the cold feeling had not left his belly. All he could think of was wrapping his hands around the man’s face and snapping his head to the side in a quick and sharp motion.
Hannah
He closed his eyes, breathed deep, and tried to picture her standing there. There was a brief flash, a yellow summer dress with a white sash tied around the waist, but her back was to him. He willed the image to turn and face him, but instead she began to skip away, dwindling into the distance, a fading giggle the only solace given.
Trey opened his eyes, the urge for violence gone.
“I have one condition,” the doctor said, realizing that the threat had dissipated. “And it is non-negotiable.”
“What is it?” Trey asked, suddenly very tired.
“When it is done, and you have her back…you have to take an extended leave of absence. We need to monitor her for awhile to make certain her matrix is stable.”
“How long?”
“Seven years.”
“What?” Trey responded sharply.
“If she’s fine then we need to keep you both out of the public eye until the years catch up to her age,” the doc explained. “That way whatever story we come up with will at least match a timeline. We’ll have to alter her memories a bit but it will work if there’s no degeneration.”
“Why aren’t you out of the public eye?” Trey asked. “Why risk going to the Pantheon?”
The doctor shook his head.
“I had to speak to the councilman. I thought it was too important to wait. It was a mistake I won’t make again.”
Trey looked to the little boy in the corner. It was hard to believe that just a few moments before he had considered something unspeakable. Was this who he was, who he had always been? There had been things during the war, horrible things, but he had always felt on the righteous side of each conflict. He couldn’t say that anymore, could he?
“She’ll be…she’ll by my little girl, right?”
The doc stepped forward, hesitantly, and placed his hand on Trey’s shoulder. There was a connection between them, something unspoken yet still there, a desperate need to make their world right, no matter the consequences. Trey was wrong before. He and this man were not different. They were the same.
“A part of her, yes,” the doctor explained. “Whatever the Cloud was able to retain without corruption will be downloaded. The rest we’ll have to fill in, or rather, I will with your help. But…”
The doctor paused, searching for the right words.
“She won’t be exactly the same. There’ll be…differences that weren’t there before. Are you prepared for that?”
“Will she know who I am?” Trey whispered. “Will she remember me?”
The doc smiled bleakly, but it was a smile of assurance nonetheless.
“Of that, I am certain.”
“I had a chat with the doctor this morning,” Talbot said, gauging Trey’s reaction as they sat alone at the dinner table.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It was a good act, a flawless one, but unnecessary. Both men knew the truth, and so even that bit of deception was a waste of energy.
Talbot waved it off, a gesture that was becoming almost second nature to him. It gave him the presence of age, like the wise shepherd overseeing the needs of his flock.
“I know of his project. Does that surprise you?”
It did, but Trey offered no reply. He knew that Talbot was being considered for Councilman, but even if he weren’t, he had his ears to the ground long before that.
“Okay, Major, I’ll do all the talking then,” Talbot continued, pushing aside his tray of food as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I know the doctor’s…experiment, is not an approved project. If he were caught I’m certain there would be unpleasant repercussions, all of which would halt his very important work.”
Trey raised an eyebrow, showing interest in the conversation for the first time.
“But that’s not going to happen,” Talbot said.
This prompted a response after a moment of silence.
“And why is that?” Trey responded.
Talbot’s tone changed, became less flippant and more serious.
“I will be Councilman, Major.”
Trey could remember not so long ago when Talbot called him by his surname. How much things had changed over the last few years.
“It’s not my first choice, that’s for certain, but this sanctuary is the last bastion of our race…and it is fragile, so very fragile. It needs to be saved. These...”
He gestured around him.
“These politicians don’t understand the severity of our situation. All they see is a utopia, built to last the ages until the earth is a fertile ground once again, but I tell you that we are dying.”
Talbot was entrancing. It was his gift.
“There is a…condition that is afflicting the population. You might have heard the whispers. Believe me, they will soon become roars, and before long that will transition to violence.”
“The fertility problem,” Trey stated.
He had heard the rumors, secondhand of course and disturbing, but he had not heeded them as fact until now.
Talbot nodded.
“It’s true. All of it. There’s top people working on it now but they’re scratching their heads. It’s possible that this malady will be short-lived, but I’m concerned with the long-term effects. Can you imagine if instead of some sort of illness or virus, this is a genetic condition?”
Trey didn’t have to respond. It could mean the eventual extinction of their race. They would go the way of the dinosaurs.
“That is why we need people like the doctor. He is the top man in the quantum technology we use for the Cloud. With the strides he is making, it could be conceivable that the next phase of the whole human race will be fully synthetic. Work like that is of the highest importance and cannot be stopped.”
Trey saw where this was going.
“So you…approve of my request?”
Talbot reached across the table and grabbed Trey’s forearm.
“Councilman Bosch is old. He is dying. When I’m Councilman a lot will change…for the better. Until then, this needs to remain between the three of us.”
“The doctor’s one condition…do you know if it?” Trey asked.
“I do,” Talbot replied. “And I agree with it as well. Something like this…it gets out before we’re ready…could cause a lot of trouble, for all three of us. We just can’t take that chance.”
“I understand.”
And he did. It was against the law to revive a child. It had been tried when Akropolis was still a young sanctuary, with disastrous consequences. Trey remembered reading the reports, though he had not witnessed the incidents himself. He didn’t have to in order to imagine the horror the parents must have felt as they watched their children become mindless drones…simpletons.
Would that be Hannah’s fate? Was he choosing that for her despite his best intentions?
