CHAPTER ELEVEN
"The dream shows the inner truth and reality of the patient as it really is: not as I conjecture it to be, and not as he would like it to be, but as it is." - C.G. Jung, The Practical Use of Dream Analysis. (1934).
Harry's dream was different this time for a couple of reasons. The familiar images of the cyberserver parts, the assembly line gurneys, and the Bio surgeons were there. The Cyber parts on tables were nearly complete now, forming some kind of apparatus. He still couldn't identify their function or purpose. Faceless Bios had faces now—fierce, angry faces. The transformed Bios were smashing the Cyber, some fully assembled now on the tables, other larger Cyber on the floor. Bright lights. Total darkness. Blindness. No visual images now. Oblivion.
Suddenly, he was inundated with auditory images. Unnatural sounds. He could identify a few he'd heard before. Metal slamming against metal. Again. Again. Slowly at first, almost a funeral march pace, but with erratic rhythm. The moment he became desensitized to the noise, the pounding began which changed all that. Heavy handed, sledgehammer-like. Harry quivered with each resounding blow.
The odd thing was that Harry was dreaming when he wasn't in bed.
"Harry! Harry! Are you in there?" It was Desiree. "Watch where you're going!"
The pole nearly ran into him! He was walking and dreaming. That's a new one, Harry thought. Suddenly, it dawned on him where he was. Two inches from a derelict street lamp. Worse! He is Outside!
"Oh, Makr!" Harry gasped—and his mouth was agape. When he realized where he was exactly, he became giddy. He couldn't understand his elation.
"You're such a babe... Desiree said. "There's no Makr here, Harry."
Maybe not, she thought, but you can never be sure.
.
"Harry Bolls is mine!" Bio Chief Prosecutor Marlene Hess exclaimed loudly to herself as she witnessed him leave the Cyber Match Central. Bolls had committed a most heinous crime as far as she was concerned. He had violated personal space, and without Makr sanction, left the Center with a stranger—an Outsider at that. Criminal acts like these usually disgusted her, but this single blatant violation by a single SensaVision employee enraged her. While other Bios had committed similar capital crimes, her feelings then had been indifferent, uninvolved, except to prepare Makr for the Bio variable. This one was different: A Bio cyberlink of proven influence! And he was loose Outside!
His psychological profile told her he was a searcher—a troubled soul who was using the Cyber psychotherapist program regularly and someone who can lead us to others.
"Do you wish to delete his mental record now, Prosecutor Hess?"
The question came from an animated, exceptionally lifelike holographic image perched on a platform floating some five feet high and in front of the prosecutor's chair. It wasn't really necessary for the operation, but it made her feel Makr's personal presence rather than a disembodied voice that just seemed freaky sometimes. Since Makr always looked to accommodate her preference and the most receptive format for his Bios, so be it. Most times the platform hovered at a safe distance where the chief prosecutor was able to ignore the presence if she wanted to. The sensory-enhanced three-dimensional image was a rather handsome, distinguished gentleman about fifty years old with graying temples and a slightly receding hairline; she perceived him as a seemingly paternal man—firm, yet fair, and found it easy to forget he was not real.
"It is normal procedure," the image added pleasantly.
"No," Marlene Hess responded. "Not yet, anyway."
"What about the girl?"
"Insignificant. No potential impact." She tried to sound sure of herself.
"If we take her out of the social equation, he'll become invisible."
"Excuse me?"
"He either goes underground or back Inside where he's no good to us."
"Why 'invisible?'"
"Sorry, creative Bio speech," she offered.
"If you are to succeed in this job of advising me, you're going to have to be more efficient in your word choice."
"Yes, Makr."
She paused, stirring the thoughts in her mind, trying to separate the emotional from the rational until cold hard facts emerged. Let's see how far he goes, she concluded.
"Do you wish to override State procedure?" The cyberserver image sounded impatient. Strange, almost an emotion, she thought.
"At the moment, yes," she replied.
"May I remind you that State recognizes there will always be a few dissidents?" Pause. "It is better to let them go than infect investigators with undo evil influence."
"I know. I know!" Sometimes Makr can be most annoying, she thought.
With that thought, Makr's image changed from the fatherly authority image on the platform to a six-sensory illusion of a handsome soul mate, a confidant. The voice was gentle, caring, reassuring, but Marlene knew, no matter how real it always seemed, that it was still pure cyberserver magic.
The holo-platform disappeared because it had perceived its presence was interfering and potentially affecting the chief prosecutor's thought processes. It would return the instant the chief prosecutor needed it. She sighed.
SensaVision break.
The office, reading her tenseness, became an island escape. Like Harry, she loved the smells of salt air, gardenias, coconuts, and wet sand being dried by the sun; however, the environment was totally hers. She was surrounded by all the positive attributes of the scene she loved so well as a distraction from life's tenser moments.
Her office, like Harry’s wall, knew she hated bananas so there were no bananas in the fruit feast that lay at easy reach. She thought of pineapples, and the office obliged—slicing them before her eyes. The island birds' melodic music played to the wind's bass section and the ocean's easy beat as waves broke on the beach. Seagulls added the refrain. That was the music Marlene heard. Yet, as she lounged luxuriously, she found something missing; an unwanted thought almost invaded her space.
With her next breath she heard the native music. Suggestive, sensual music played with her subconscious, creating the ultimate reality. Everything is real. Believe everything. The presence was complete. The carpet had long become sand as the image combined sounds, smells, and subliminal mental suggestions so Marlene could experience sand squeezing between her toes. She turned her head and discovered her towel spread in the sand waiting for her. She enjoyed this image and let the pampering relax her. Makr knew she needed time not to think. She knew she needed something else.
Sitting naked on the towel a few minutes later, Marlene was satisfied—at least in body—her mind still listless, undecided. Moments before there had been a lover who had made love to her; she liked her men, tall, slender and fit with dark hair and unshaven. A rough exterior, but a gentle interior. As a physical match he had been her type, but she couldn't love or fall in love with this imitation Bio man; he was image and sensation—nothing more. He hadn't spoken but her mind had filled in the blanks with a voice calling her name, expressing desire, excitement and fulfillment. Not everyone needs to go to Matches R Us or Cyber Match Central, she thought. There was no need to leave the room; she didn't have time.
Then again, it was never really up to her. Knowing what was best for her, Makr selected the details accordingly. At that moment, Makr had decided that she didn't require romantic assignations or emotional commitments, just sex. The right images, a few aromas, multiple sensations, a few specially focused sensations and voila! Our chief prosecutor was primed for action.
She responded to the image Makr had provided by clinging gratefully to her lover's hard muscled form, moving rhythmically, purposefully rubbing sensitive areas to excite him. Not surprisingly, he uttered moans of pleasure and turned to massage and caress her own svelte form until she reciprocated with her own moans and gasps of delight.
Marlene sensed their bodies flowing together. This motion was pleasing and satisfying in a natural way that seemed in sync with the other rhythms on the island. The six-dimensional image of her world flickered. I
nstantly, the blue sky turned bright white, then black with stars in abundance. It was as though the sky has turned inside out. The stars melted into a myriad of bright colors. The wind blew gently at first, then, became a hurricane force. She was blown away, scattered to the heavens, but her body remained—and his... She felt his presence inside her and her own warm juices. They were entwined in each other's body, moaned with pleasure again and again, but it was anything but monotonous to Marlene. More! More! She screamed. She saw his mouth form the same words, but he was silent.
Must be the strong silent type, she mused and stifled a giggle. Then, as abruptly as he came, he'd gone—without leaving a trace—just a feeling, a memory. Sand became carpet again. Island-like images dissolved.
She rubbed her chin, still stinging from being scraped by his rough beard. She smiled. Of course, her chin was not really scraped, although she would see a scrape if she looked in a mirror and the pain would feel real. She knew that the mildly painful sensation would help her remember and enjoy the sexual experience later without depending on Makr's SensaVision. So, real or imagined, it didn't matter.
She didn't need people—real people; she needed to do her job and that pleased Makr, Who, in turn, pleased her by giving her pleasure on her terms. What more was there to life?
Refreshed, the chief prosecutor scanned Makr surveillance reports on the master viewer that had seamlessly reappeared. The master viewer platform was the largest floating in the sanctuary. The three dimensional images appearing on the platform couldn't be confused with reality since they were framed by the viewer platform itself. She liked it that way so she could wander about the room while offering her unique Bio insight to the cyberserver and her instructions to Cyber security.
Minimizing the danger from the Outside. That was her job. Simply track them and provide the Cyber security with enough data to repair the damage done by the dissidents and prevent them from influencing others. To apprehend without Bio contact… Let the Cyber security handle it and nothing would change, she thought. She hated letting the Cyber security handle it. Yet, the thought echoed in her mind.
"That is correct." Makr answered without having been asked the question. "Let Cyber security handle it."
The man-designed mechanism hummed anxiously, reminding the chief prosecutor that State, with Makr's help, was waiting for input. Why is she mulling this over? State's solution is clear. Do nothing.
"Chief Prosecutor, do you have a question, a comment? Analysis?"
She could almost hear the impatience in the synthetic voice, which naturally didn't sound synthetic at all.
While Makr's artificial intelligence was busy learning and integrating Bio input from the chief prosecutor, He was also absorbing and linking outside systems. Makr also found it necessary at this time to analyze Marlene's behavior pattern.
This Bio thinks too much and tells me too little. She thinks she has control. It would take a moment to adjust the flickering that comes from the massive information flow—slightly longer to adjust the Bio or eliminate her. Bios can be so unaware.
"What I see from these reports disturbs me," she said, seemingly unaware of Makr's reasoned trepidation.
Marlene continued mulling it over in her mind. Granted, the number of violators was larger than it had ever been, but that wasn't a problem as long as the newcomers behaved themselves. Makr maintained that Outsider dissent was having an insignificant effect and didn't present a relevant danger to the accomplishment of PerSoc in general as long as it remained isolated and confined to Outside. If the rebels wanted to live without Makr's help, so be it. However, Marlene saw that the bigger problem was the forming of a pattern, which meant organization. And, organized crime...well, that was a definite problem.
"The area of dissident movement is concentrated and distributed equally in this city," she continued aloud. "Some State cities show no growth, no change, just random disappearances. Here we have growth and it's organized. Check the data for probability. I think we have a serial contact criminal. Perhaps, even a social ring. Makr forbid." She had to be careful thinking aloud like that.
Makr's report contained exactly what the chief prosecutor already knew. This was a serious problem. Then, she thought aloud. "We have to do something. We've got to stop him!"
"You Bios will risk certain death from exposure to your own kind even if you got your man or woman."
She caught herself. If I leave it to you, Cyber, she thought, we do nothing. Careful, watch those dangerous thoughts, Marlene.
It's not very intelligent for a sentient Bio creature to think so loudly noted Makr. You have no idea what is happening. I tell you what you need to know.
Leave these matters to the Cyber security, she told herself. Although oblivious to Makr's unvoiced pronouncement, she responded as though she's heard it.
Just give Him input. That's what you're here for. Provide Makr the Bio variables that help explain or un-muddle (clarify is the wrong word) illogical Bio behavior equations. Bios are so damned illogical, unpredictable...and dangerous.
The chief prosecutor was sure of one thing: Harry Bolls, dangerous or not, would be the first Bio example erased to be shown on a mandatory SensaVision program to the populace. By his capture he'd convey a message first—a message that Makr's laws are necessary to save this planet's Bio life forms from total annihilation. He would be the last Bio cyberlink to escape from the leniency of PerSoc—even if she had to venture out of sanctuary herself and risk contamination.
We, Bios, she thought, are the cursed of all animals. No other creature harms for sport or power. Even man-designed intelligent Cyber don't destroy each other; they repair each other and make improvements.
She forced a smile to conceal her bitterness and a mysterious hatred toward other Bios—an emotion that affected her psyche. She couldn't allow another Bio to influence her. Sensing her smile was false, the room changed again.
"Damn you, Harry Bolls!"
.
At the same time, Harry and Desiree continued on their way, unaware they were even missed. Since leaving Cyber Match Central without an approved Bio match, Harry knew he could be leaving his old life behind for good. He might have to live in isolation for eternity, all for a woman he barely knew. It was a romantic notion totally without merit, but it made him smile.
Totally ignorant of his New World, his reluctant steps underlined a wavering acceptance of his uncertain future. He had no choice but to go forward...to his new home. Under other rare circumstances when a Bio was permitted an excursion to the Outside wasteland, he wore his blinders and his mask for his own safety. The blinders (Harry jokingly called them rose-colored glasses—some reference from the past) made sure he sees and hears nothing offensive, inappropriate or impressive; the mask does the same for smells of the city and its people. Harry was now without blinders and sans mask; the effect was almost overwhelming, causing him to catch his breath often.
"Close your mouth, Harry," Desiree said. "You'll catch flies."
Wouldn't want you to get sick, would we? Some people think you're pretty important to us. Even so, she had trouble imagining this pitiful Bio specimen becoming their leader. Somehow his lack of exceptional qualities had made him the perfect candidate, a person most acceptable to all and the least offensive, a true politician. An idea, in her opinion, so preposterous it just might work. She shrugged the idea off mentally, smiled and winked at Harry who blushed as soon as she turned his way.
Besides, there is the Evangel prophecy...
"Why did you want me to leave Cyber Match Central with you?" he asked meekly. He had wanted to know that from her very first enticement.
"I have my reasons. Good reasons. You'll see." She almost laughed at his naiveté. Although there was no escaping the fact that if she had told him the truth, he would have found it too fantastic a story to believe.
"Are you one of the Shadow People I've heard about?"
She laughed. "No. What made you say that?"
"As a child, I wa
s always told that there were those who lived hiding in the shadows of the city, waiting to..."
"You're kidding? Waiting to what?"
"You know, uh, drink your blood, dismember you...that sort of thing." Pretty chilling to hear as a child, he considered. Scary still as an adult.
The look on his face was so deadly serious and framed in innocence; it almost made her laugh aloud.
"Have you never seen one?"
Harry shook his head. Maybe.
"If they exist, I haven't seen them," she lied. No point in telling him too much.
"You can't see them," Harry insisted. "They live in the shadows. Dark Shadows of night."
"And you think I'm one of them?" Now, she pretended to be a bit indignant and more forceful in her reply. "Do you think I look like one of them?"
"Well, no...maybe," he stammered and she smiled. "I don't know anything about being Outside," he said regaining his composure. "I only know what Makr tells me about it."
"Yes, I know. We'll try to fix that."
"What?"
"Never mind. Walk," she ordered amiably and pushed him ahead of her.
Just how much should I tell this guy? The council said, "Nothing, that is for us to decide." After all, they are the visionaries. They are the ones who see Harry's immediate importance to the movement. There's always something they aren't telling.