He dropped to his knees and looked at the Sun Pods speeding by. Just a few steps forward, and his pain would be quelled. He stood there, bent over, wondering if he was going to lose more of the lunch he didn’t have. He brought his head up, and thought he heard a choir of angels in his mind. Bathed in light, a Church was across the street. Above the doors was written the word: Bookmaker.
There were two ways to become a Gambler. One was defecting when one’s bracelet was removed in a facility. The other way was a legend only some knew about. Most thought it was nonsense. The legend was that one could walk into a Church and defect. Pierre knew that because he didn’t have a bracelet anymore that was his only option. He jogged to the overpass, crossed the street, and walked towards the double doors of the Church.
Bookmaker was a church with a circular design. Outside no crosses were visible. Nor was there any blue, which would have signified Audric Compliance. It looked bathed in light because it was. There were yellow lights on the ground on either side projecting onto the church. Pierre tried to open the door but it was locked. He knocked. Tears were in his eyes and he wiped them, took a deep breath.
He heard a voice inside, a man’s voice. “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in with him and eat with him, and he with me.” The doors opened. The voice he heard wasn’t from inside. It was a recording coming from a speaker above the double doors.
Inside, there was a congregation of almost thirty people, and a pastor on the stage in front of an enormous crucifix with Jesus on it. To Pierre’s right was an open door which revealed a butcher block table where Gamblers had their sacred meal before being baptized. To his left, three women stood dressed in white with halo’s around their heads like the woman at Gamblers and Guns had.
The pastor was speaking. “Today, I want to talk to you about Dot Hawkings. Whom it has been a tough stretch for. I’ve watched Dot grow up, actually, since her father killed himself. I’m sort of a second father. She is a beauty as most of the teenage Gamblers know. I put out a message asking Gamblers to treat her well. But at Gamblers and Guns a couple weeks ago we all know a guy blew his arm off. Many of our brothers and sisters have been blaming Dot for this. And this, I fear, is the reason that Dot has finally decided to leave the Gamblers and become a freelance seducer. So I will personally give a deluxe bonus to whomever can persuade her otherwise. That’s right, boys. Comb your hair, put on your best suit, verily you will have your reward.”
Pierre barely realized he was walking towards the stage. The Pastor stopped and looked at Pierre.
“I’m Pierre Morena,” Pierre said.
“And I’m Jerry Gray,” the Pastor said, irritated. “Take a seat.”
One of the women with a halo was behind him. She put a hand on his shoulder and led him. He followed her, looking around fearfully. He went to sit in a pew in back, but she grabbed his arm. “You can’t be in here if you haven’t been baptized. Come with me.” Then Pierre noticed how similar she looked to the woman at Gamblers and Guns. They were, no doubt, related.
“I know your sister?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “This way.” She led him into the room where the sacred
meal would be given. “My name is Josephine.” She took her halo off and put it on the table. “You can’t be baptized until you’ve had a meal with a dose of MDMA.” Pierre would have asked what MDMA was, but he felt he didn’t deserve anything in that moment including an explanation. So he walked into the room and took a seat. Five people entered after him.
He sat and the five others took their own places at the table. They were not in the mood for conversation. They avoided eye contact and held no shame for their stoic faces. One of them hit a sensor on the corner of the table and place settings arose in front of them. Then Josephine emerged from an adjacent room and gave Pierre a plate of food. The Gamblers stared at the plate expressionless. Pierre could only guess it meant he was to eat up.
His face feeling slack, and barely possessing the will power to question or argue, he began eating his brown rice, kale, and a hard boiled egg. Josephine took a seat at the table and Pierre realized he could still hear Jerry Gray, the Pastor, speaking. “The pursuit of happiness is a fundamental human right. It is this we need to realize: the pursuit and attainment of our desires should bring us happiness. When life is at its most fulfilling ‘should’ and ‘want’ become interchangeable. That’s something the Audric Compliant will never understand.”
Normally, Pierre would have scoffed, but the words made him feel drunk on sorrow. He followed the gaze of the Gamblers to his wrist where some of them seemed to notice he wasn’t wearing a bracelet.
“They took it off at the Sanitarium … a week ago.” He looked around at the Gamblers
stoic faces wondering if someone had died. “What’s it like being a Gambler?”
The Gamblers didn’t respond. Josephine looked at Pierre, a little smile on her lips. “Perhaps you would have liked to say, ‘Grace?’” She asked.
Pierre removed the fork from his mouth. “Grace?”
The Gamblers began laughing. They all seemed to come to life having realized that he
failed the test. “Gratitude,” Josephine said. “Is the hallmark of being a Gambler. Gratitude to God. We don’t feel gratitude to the false prophets.”
Pierre felt his face go light red. “I don’t know how … what to say.”
They all turned hearing the sound of a woman screaming. The other Gamblers hopped
up, but Pierre sat still and Josephine glared at him. Then she raised her eyebrows. Pierre took the hint and followed the Gamblers towards the sound of the screaming. When he got into the worship room he saw a woman lying on the ground and fifteen people surrounding her. Jerry Gray was hovering over her, saying, “Give her some space. Give her some space.”
Pierre turned to Josephine and said, “What’s happening?”
“She’s going into labor,” Josephine said.
“I’ve got to prop her up,” Jerry said. “Someone give me your shirt.”
No one moved. But Pierre didn’t waste any time. He took off his black t-shirt and
handed it to Jerry Gray. Jerry put the shirt underneath her head and said, “Rest on that.” Jerry adjusted her head.
The woman on the floor moved her head frowning and Jerry said, “I need something else.”
When no one moved, Pierre unbuckled his pants, and slid them off one leg then another. He handed his pants to Jerry Gray. Jerry looked at Pierre, for a moment seeming confused, and then he put the pants underneath her head.
“Better?” Jerry Gray said.
The woman nodded.
Then Jerry stood up, his eyes on Pierre, and began applauding. The woman stood up, no longer panicking, no longer in labor. Jerry extended his hand to Pierre. “Took off your own pants. Not bad. Not bad at all.”
The woman threw Pierre’s pants back at him. Pierre caught them then shook Jerry’s hand.
“Call Devin,” Jerry said. “Pierre’s in.”
Devin Snitch lived in a Gamblers hotel. Gamblers lived in hotels of varying quality based on how much Gambler’s money one had and how highly ranked they were. Pierre and Jerry were taking the monorail which was a floating train powered by magnets. The Gamblers didn’t use Sun Pods, but the monorail was a pleasant ride, a purring engine, drapes on the windows, food and beverage, and a quiet cabin. Pierre thought he should feel wary of Jerry, but he felt filled with unexplainable happiness.
When they were seated, Jerry turned to Pierre. “My guess is you know all of Brighton is caught up with your situation. You were right to walk up to me and introduce yourself. But I had to know if you were a stand up guy.”
Pierre nodded and forced a smile down.
“I have to wonder where your parents are in all of this.”
“Probably think I’m a murderer,” Pierre said. “Declining comment. Blocking my calls.”
“They’ve been your parents for seventeen years. I think you’ve gotta bridge the gap.”
“They know I don’t have an acceptor I think. I don’t know how long they’ve known. I just want to be on my own for a while.”
Jerry nodded. “So you’re coming to the Gamblers side of things. I think you’ll learn a lot of us are happy to have you. It looks good for the Gamblers. We’re becoming a well-respected way of life.”
“What’s the point of any of it?”
“Audric is an experiment. Hosted by the powers that be. I don’t know how it ends. But my guess is you want to be there when it does. So what do you think the future holds?”
“Well, first, what do the Gamblers want?”
“Genesis Smith wants to give a speech to the world in a couple weeks. Gamblers are
stepping up. Influencing the outcomes in their favor. That’s the reason for the Grease, for the ad on TV, and The London Times article.”
“There’s someone else named Pierre Morena. Do you know about him?”
Jerry shook his head. “Afraid I don’t. I know Caleb has gone rogue. One man killing machine, trying to change the speech in his favor. I don’t know why you don’t have an acceptor. Or what the plan is for you. But I’d say you’re pretty damn important.”
“I heard Genesis Smith wants to call a tribunal.”
“Yeah. There’s a lot of confusion out there. A lot of mixed feelings. Double agents who are Audric Compliant. It’s a mess.”
A uniformed man approached them and stopped in front of Jerry. He removed a package
from his bag and handed it to Pierre. “Pierre Morena? This just arrived for you.”
It was the size of a book, wrapped in gold paper. A note was on top. Pierre read the note. It was from Dot.
I wanted to give this to you at the Sanitarium but we were interrupted. They’re gonna call it ‘The Library Delusion.’ Unless we can stop them.
Hurriedly, Pierre tore off the paper. The book was called Thirteen Reason’s Why by Jay Asher and Pierre recognized it as the same book Dot was reading at the Sanitarium. He turned it over and began reading the description but stopped when he realized how irrelevant it was.
“Why on earth would she send me this?”
“Look inside.”
Pierre opened the book and realized the interior had been replaced by some sort of
manual. There were diagrams of some device which looked like a videogame console. It had wires connecting to what looked like contacts. It was an inadequate technology without a doubt manufactured by a person rather than a factory. Pierre flipped to the title page:
The GSKT 2300
A Knowledge Implanting Device
He flipped several pages and read: “One side-effect it seems of implementing the GSKT
2300 is called The Library Delusion – the idea that one acquired the information by visiting a library.”
Pierre felt filled with joy. Finally, he’d come upon the answer to why he’d woken up in a hospital bed with no memory of why. Someone had administered the GSKT 2300 on him. Or he had done it to himself.
“This explains it,” he said, thumbing through the book. “I knew I wasn’t at the library.” He read out loud: “The GSKT 2300 works by downloading information to the human brain via contacts that are positioned on a person’s eyes during REM sleep. The device contains a comprehensive encyclopedia of information which utilizes the majority of the human brain in its insertion process. Subjects who use the GSKT 2300 have been tested and confirmed to be able to answer any questions that come even remotely close to the information implanted. It is important to note: the GSKT 2300 must be utilized in one sitting or memory problems may arise.”
Pierre leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, a big smile on his face. Jerry was looking at the book reading along. She’d chosen the book Thirteen Reason’s Why. It was most likely a reference to the thirteenth floor of the library. Those thirteen floors of information were the Thirteen Reasons Why. He looked out the window, a blur as the train was moving almost three hundred miles an hour, and Jerry took the book from him.
Jerry was looking at the back page of the book. There was a photograph of a man in a plaid suit and a woman wearing a bandana. At the bottom of the photograph was written: Cloud Morena. Jerry handed the book back to Pierre and said, “Does this mean anything to you?”
Pierre took the book and stared, eyebrows furrowed. “That’s my Mom.” She must have been no older than seventeen. He thumbed through the book quickly to see if there were other pictures. He came back to the photo of his mother and the man in a plaid suit. He said to Jerry, “You know that guy?”
Jerry shook his head. The train came to a stop in front of Helter, one of the top of the line hotels Devin lived in. There was no reason, Pierre knew, not to think Devin was waiting with a loaded gun. It was clear to Pierre that Devin wasn’t fond of him. But he felt so euphoric over the news about the GSKT 2300 that he was barely worried. Maybe he’d see Dot there. Maybe he could get a shower and a shave.
The door to Helter opened, and Dot came walking out. She wore blue jeans and a black halter top with a G embroidered on her upper hip. Pierre guessed it stood for Gamblers. He stood up, and Jerry led him out of the train. He walked up to Dot, and Jerry left him with a pat on the back.
Dot said, “You don’t have an acceptor.”
“Yeah. How ‘bout that. I got the book. It left me with some questions.”
“We’ll have time to talk. We have a room waiting for you. Jerry told us you took off your pants.”
“Yeah,” Pierre shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Dot lifted her shoulders and let them drop. “Can barely believe you’re still alive.”
“All of Brighton probably can’t believe it either. Not Audric Complaint anymore.” He held up his arm that no longer had a bracelet.
“Still have the Grease?”
“Yeah. Haven’t washed my hair in a few days.”
“It smells.”
“So I’ve heard. I also heard the Gamblers are stepping up.” He looked her in the eye. “I am too.” He stepped forward and tried to kiss her. But she pushed him away.
“Don’t. He’s watching.”
She looked up to the third floor of the hotel. Pierre followed her gaze. A man in
motorcycle garb was looking out the window, but Pierre couldn’t clearly make out his face.
“Tale of forbidden love, huh? Is that Devin?”
“You feeling all right?”
Pierre shrugged. “I just feel happy.”
“Are you high?”
“They gave me something called MDMA.”
“That’s ecstasy.”
“Oh.”
“Come on,” she said seriously. She led him towards the door of the hotel. “You can
sleep it off.”
Pierre took one last look at the man on the third floor, his arms crossed, and his beard obscuring most of his face. Pierre wondered if that was the same man in his post-shock REM dream he’d had in the infirmary. That man had worn motorcycle garb as well, but his face was difficult to see. Dot led him to the elevator.
“Was that Devin?” Pierre asked.
Dot nodded. “He’s in the fifth heaven. That means he is almost as high up as you can get among the Gamblers. He’s responsible for hundreds of defections and he goes on raids all the time.”
“Which heaven are you in?”
“The second. But I’m gonna be Audric Compliant soon.”
He was well aware of her future as a freelance seducer but decided not to say anything.
He remembered Jerry Gray saying that he’d give a deluxe bonus to whoever could persuade her otherwise. “Sorry,” he said. “About the kiss. I didn’t know what MDMA wa
s.”
Dot shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
The elevator opened, and Dot showed him to his room. “MDMA doesn’t have caffeine in it anymore. Dinners in three hours, you should be sober by then. But at dinner you’re gonna have to do more than stand there and look pretty.”
Pierre heard the door close behind him, and he fell on the bed face first, feeling euphoric. He fell asleep in a matter of minutes. A few hours later, he awoke and realized the high had ended. The drug had been tailored over the last half century. Gamblers thought it one of the perks of not having an acceptor. Pierre could see why, looking back on the high with fondness.
There was a knock on the door. When he opened it, Dot was standing there with a reddish purple mark on her cheek and a look of scorn for him. He felt his eyes widen and his heartbeat quicken. She didn’t say anything, just stared.
“What happened to your face?” He asked.
“The same thing that happened to yours.” She brought her fist back, swung, and hit him in the jaw. She turned and walked down the hallway.
He put his hand to his jaw, feeling his heart sink. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why.”
“There’s thirteen reasons why. The Audric Compliant never know any of them. I guess the word ‘respect’ means nothing to you.” She got in the elevator and the doors closed.
Pierre closed the door, his hand shaking, and wondering if Devin had hit her. He planned on finding out. Did she belong to him? She was going to be a freelance seducer so wasn’t Pierre just another guy? Or was the problem that Pierre wasn’t just another guy. It was then Pierre realized that he already hated Devin. No doubt, the feeling was mutual.
Devin was surely waiting for Pierre at dinner. Pierre checked the wardrobe and found some clothes there for him. He put on a polo shirt and some cargo pants. Then stepped out of his room, only to stop and think for a few seconds. He went back in his room and checked the wardrobe for something more relevant. He found a plaid button down shirt and some blue jeans. Then he went downstairs in search of where the Gamblers were dining, hoping he was dressed appropriately.
Devin was sitting in a chair waiting for him. “If it isn’t not-so-Pure-Pierre. Never did thank you properly. TV spot is working out great.”
Pierre knew sarcasm was no longer appropriate. Devin was holding the cards. He walked up to him and extended his hand awkwardly.