“Don’t know anything about it. Let me guess. He’s from Stylic.”
Pierre nodded. “Yeah.”
“What do you know about Stylic?”
“Nothing. I know it was Audric’s sister site. In Cuba.”
Dot maneuvered herself, so she was sitting on the bed. Her voice was low. “They didn’t have Gamblers. Everyone was Audric Compliant. But something went wrong. People started having visions involving self-torture. A lot of people in Audric know about it. That’s why Barnaby Brown promised everyone Heaven. Elijah Harbinger says the same thing is going to happen to Audric. Audric isn’t all it’s thought to be. When Genesis Smith gives his speech the Gamblers are going to look good. You’re the proof no one needs an acceptor or a bracelet. You’re Pure Pierre. You’re important to everyone. Everyone is going to want to hear what you have to say.”
Pierre nodded. “So no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself, huh?”
“Devin is a genius. And he doesn’t want me to have anything to do with you. You’re not an angel, Pierre. Angels own themselves. You don’t.”
“You have to help me find a way out. I’m lost without you.” Pierre was leaning forward, his eyes beseeching. “Tell me about the picture.”
“I was in Stylic. The world thought Stylic was going to be the answer.”
“The answer.”
“There’s an organization called Mindblown. They have people all over creating as much depression as they possibly can. After quantum physics concluded at the end of the twenty first century no one believed in God. People knew they couldn’t do anything about Mindblown. Stylic made people feel safe. If depression and mood was regulated Mindblown’s power was nullified.” She reeled herself in. “My father was a drug runner. Even in Stylic people squirreled away GPS-less money. Cloud was his best client.”
Pierre nodded. “Ecstacy.”
Dot nodded. “I spent the first three years of my life in Stylic -- in a drug den. If it wasn’t for Cloud I would have become an addict. She made sure I didn’t do anything stupid. She told me she was going to have a son and was moving to Brighton to be part of Audric. She petitioned the Earnings Authority in Santa Clara, and they let me go with her. I promised her I’d look after you if anything bad happened to you. Something did. That’s why. That’s why we keep running into each other.”
“Do my parents know I don’t have an acceptor?”
Dot lifted her shoulders. “I didn’t know until I saw the ad for Grease.”
“I gotta get in contact with them. Do you think Caleb will try to kill them?”
Dot nodded.
“You want to come with me? It concerns you too.”
“First thing tomorrow.”
“Where’s your father now?”
“Dead. When my father found out my mother was going to college, he raided a facility where she worked. In Stylic, they had facilities too. But that’s where they removed the bracelet before incarcerating someone. My father brought a real gun to the facility and started trying to get people to come with him. Then he shot my mother in the head and turned the gun on himself. Some people think that was where Genesis Smith got the idea for Gamblers.”
“So Smith is trying to remake history.”
“Everyone is scared that the same thing that happened to Stylic is going to happen to Audric.”
Pierre went and sat on the bed. “So … is that the only reason why we keep running into each other?”
Dot smiled and stood up. She sat on the chair. “I don’t have any place to sleep.”
“I thought you were a freelance seducer,” Pierre said.
Dot looked startled. “How do you know that?”
Pierre thought about it. “Jerry told me.”
She shook her head to herself. “I don’t have any money. I don’t want to do it with any of the Johns I meet.”
“You’re refusing customers?”
“Sometimes. Can I sleep here?”
Pierre shrugged. “Sure.”
There was a knock on the door. “I had a cot sent up,” Dot said. Pierre dropped his
shoulders. Dot smiled and pulled the cot into the room. Pierre searched the closet for some pajamas and got changed. The two of them went to sleep, Dot saying they should wake up at seven thirty and check the morning TV shows for information on Pierre’s circumstances. Dot said the advertisement for Grease was running on network and all of Brighton would want to know why Pierre didn’t have an acceptor.
Pierre dreamt of Dot lying next to him. He awoke twice thinking it was reality. The second time he looked at her sound asleep on the cot. Then he closed his eyes telling himself that if he dreamt of her again he’d stay asleep. He did dream of her again but she was covered in bullet holes, an expression of terror on her face. He heard his father’s voice, Edmond, saying “take the shot.” Pierre awoke with a start and wondered what it meant. After his nerves settled he decided it was just a stupid dream.
The tablet had been listening to Pierre and Dot speak before they’d gone to sleep and the alarm was ringing. It was seven-thirty.
Dot slid a wall covering aside and revealed a different six foot tablet. She turned on A Fine Audric Morning and hopped onto the bed with Pierre. They sat, leaning against the headboard, as Pierre sidled over to her and put his arm around her -- she let him. On the tablet the reporters were talking about a procession of deer that halted a slew of Sun Pods in South Brighton the night previous.
The reporter explained that the Sun Pods could halt themselves readily unless a person didn’t give one enough room to stop. He explained that Generation Gold was trying to find a solution to this problem and make suicide by jumping in front of a Sun Pod impossible.
“I almost did that when I found out I didn’t have an acceptor,” Pierre said.
“I could never kill myself,” Dot said, resting her head on his shoulder. “No matter what happened.”
“Can’t get much worse than what you’ve survived,” Pierre said. “I’ve had it easy.”
Pierre had seen A Fine Audric Morning before. The main anchor Chad Santo, was well-known in Brighton and Pierre felt his nerves take flight when he thought about Chad speaking about him. Chad did.
“Curiosity in Brighton is growing surrounding the disappearance and alleged criminal activity surrounding Pierre Morena, a seventeen year old Audric Compliant,” Chad said. “In a series of advertisements blanketing network TV and paid for by Gamblers, Pierre Morena has been revealed as being a joke, an Audric Compliant with no acceptor. Pierre Morena was born in a hospital in Roudeville. A search of records yielded few answers about the circumstances of Pierre’s birth, but we have learned who delivered Pierre. A doctor named Zachary Wilcox.”
Apparently, they had gotten an interview with Wilcox.
Chad Santo asked, “Was Pierre Morena given an acceptor?”
“No,” Doctor Wilcox said. “We had the order not to inject one.”
“Order from whom?”
“Genesis Smith himself. The other doctors were hesitant, as was I, and we asked if Mr. Smith wanted us to inject anything. The response was to inject a nanobot GPS. Mr. Smith said Pierre was a special case, chosen because of his mother’s use of ecstasy, and that Pierre didn’t need an acceptor.”
Apparently, they hadn’t dug any deeper. It was only a short spot after all, Pierre thought.
“The Earnings Authority has reported that they can’t pinpoint Pierre’s nanobot GPS,” Chad was saying. “They are urging people not to use the Grease hair gel advertised by Gamblers saying the product is toxic and could even be life threatening. Pierre Morena’s parents have been speaking out saying at first they were told Pierre was dead. But now that they know he’s alive had a message for their son.
Edmond said, “Pierre, don’t go to the authorities. We’re going to get you out safely, but you have to lay low until you’re cleared of
wrong doing. Don’t try to contact me or Cloud either.”
“They say they are sure Pierre Morena,” Chad said, “who has been accused of murdering his therapist and trying to commit suicide is innocent. Pierre Morena is thought to still be at
large in the city of Brighton.”
Pierre turned off the tablet and rested his head against Dot’s. They sat there in silence, the future and past seemingly becoming clearer as his mind churned and the seconds passed by. His parents were still on his side, still in need of his help, and still as innocent as they had ever been. He turned to his left, thinking he had an angel by his side. He put his fingers under her chin and nuzzled her cheek. Then he put his lips lightly against hers but she didn’t kiss him.
“Sweet,” she said quietly. “You know, Devin will kill us.”
“You’re an ex-gambler. You know how to take a risk.”
“I bet if you had it to do over again, you would shy away from all of this. Never become a Gambler like me.”
“I’d jump thirteen floors and have thirteen reasons to be with you.”
“Why?”
“You’re a lifesaver. Can’t say that about anyone else.”
“Okay,” she closed her eyes and kissed him gently.
He kissed her back, noticing how seductively feminine and intoxicating her perfume was. They heard a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Dot said.
Pierre smiled at her and punched her shoulder lightly as if to say, “why’d you do that?”
A bellman peeked his head into the room. “Pierre Morena. Your presence is requested in the lobby.”
“By who?” He asked.
“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say. Shall I tell him you’re on your way down?”
Pierre looked at Dot. She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be right there,” Pierre said.
“I bet it’s Elijah Harbinger,” Dot said, thinking Harbinger was told about Pierre by Devin. “You want me to come with you?”
“What do you think he wants?”
Dot pushed her hair back behind her ears. “He’s a nice guy.”
“You know him?”
“I’ve seen him speak. And I shook his hand years ago.”
They exited the room and walked to the elevator. “You go meet him,” Dot said. “I’ll show up in five minutes. Give you some time to talk privately.”
Pierre pressed the elevator button and said to Dot, “Don’t take too long.”
She gave him an affectionate smile. “You’ll be fine. Good luck.”
The doors closed and Pierre descended, thinking of Harbinger on TV, casually dressed, blank eyes that conveyed intelligence, and the strength of spirit that was conveyed merely by his strong stance. More importantly, many Gamblers, Pierre had heard, thought he was psychic. Pierre wondered if Elijah would be able to read his thoughts.
He stepped into the lobby and looked around his heart thumping. Elijah was standing by the entrance to the hotel, an interior home design magazine in his left hand, and leaning against the door jam, a small smile on his lips. He was wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt. “Hey Pierre. Elijah Harbinger.”
“I know who you are Mr. Harbinger.” Pierre almost extended his hand but remembered
that Gamblers didn’t shake hands. “I’d shake your hand but …”
“Learning the ropes all right it seems. Let’s go take a seat.” He walked towards the dining hall which was apparently deserted, most likely out of respect for Elijah. “You’re the only Audric Compliant with no shocks. Quite an achievement.” He turned to Pierre still smiling.
“Not exactly,” Pierre said.
“Ah come now. Don’t be modest. You’ve never needed a boost and never been deserving of a shock. You’d say not that anyone knows of. I’d say there’s never been a dispute or a scandal. Incredible.”
Pierre swallowed. “I guess.”
“Devin told me about the Josephine Test. It seems you may be deserving of the name Pure Pierre after all. You stick with us. The Gamblers are under orders from me not to harm you.”
“So what can I do for you, Mr. Harbinger?”
“Call me Elijah. Everyone else does. Elijah means ‘Jehovah is God.’ I like it that way. Because not unlike me, Jehovah is a false God. One needs a beacon in the dark in these turbulent times. You know that better than anyone.”
“I always felt like if there weren’t any Gamblers I wouldn’t be nearly as dedicated to Audric.”
Elijah sat at the same table Devin sat at and Pierre sat across from him. Elijah noticed the bullet hole in the wall opposite him and frowned. “Hmmm.” Then he turned back to Pierre. “Gamblers are like Stonehenge. Immovable, mysterious, and arising from seeming impossibility. Their faith gives us all faith. Even you. But you seem reluctant to believe.”
“Believe that you’re psychic.”
Elijah put his finger in his ear and removed at earwig the size of a speck of lint. “Simple radio receiver. My staff sends me the signal. I can pick out anyone I want in the crowd, and I’m supplied with a paragraph of information.”
“Why bother?”
“Hope. Why else? Hope is the most precious of all commodities. Even the Gamblers need a beacon in the dark. I deal in hope. I believe in an intelligent design. A world created by a brilliance almost unfathomable. I want to know what you believe in.”
“Why?”
“In two weeks, Genesis Smith is giving a speech to the world. I want to know where you stand if you’re going to be a part of it. The Audric Compliant tend to believe in nothingness. But there’s a lot of disinformation. Keeping people Compliant requires a system of beliefs that are conducive to low dopamine levels.”
“I thought we knew pretty much all there was to know.”
“The Universe. Is it infinite or limited?”
“It’s expanding.”
“That’s been the push for centuries. You’re GSKT 2300 wise. When I ask you ‘how we
know the Universe is expanding’ what do you come up with?”
“Simple. Measurements indicate things farther away from the earth are moving away
faster.”
“Sure they do. But what’s outside the Universe? What is the Universe expanding to?”
“Never really thought about it, I guess.”
“The mass of some of the stars in the observable Universe are so much greater than the size of the Earth that when viewed to scale the earth is not even visible. Pangea, the most recent supercontinent, is a scientific certitude, indisputable, that proves that existence of a beginning. All the elements of the natural world exist in perfect harmony, from the birds and the bees to the perfect size of the earth and its distance from the sun. The physical laws are constant all over the universe. And you can’t look at a flower with its perfect mathematics and not believe in an intelligent design.”
“Yeah,” Pierre said only half sincere.
“It is difficult to hear. But take a few days. Think it over.”
Pierre felt his heart thumping powerfully. Dot walked into the dining hall. “I couldn’t help but overhear. You’re giving him The Gamblers Argument. Hi, Elijah. I met you a few years ago at a Gamblers rally. You gave me your autograph. My name’s Dot.”
“Dot. A familiar face. Join us.” He stood up and moved a chair to their table, then sat back down. “I need something from you. That’s why I’m here.”
“We’ll do whatever we can, barring suicide,” Pierre said.
“I want you to be human for Smith’s speech. For people to empathize with you. We need to show that getting shocked is natural, that even Pure Pierre Morena makes mistakes. Most of the Audric Compliant are guilty of squirreling away Gamblers money. They use it for purchasing at an independent retailer. Your father does this. I want you to be as culpable as they are.”
A woman entered the room and placed a briefcase on the table, then walked out. “
It’s six hundred pounds that you’ve saved over the course of several years. You go back home, put the money in your bedroom and your parents can find it. You do that for me, I’ll be willing to vouch for you when the Audric Earnings Authority comes knocking.”
Pierre looked at Dot, a smile lifting his face. “Sure. No problem.”
Pierre opened the briefcase and saw the stacks of cash. He closed it, thoughts of Chester coming into his mind. What had happened to Chester? He’d escaped from the Sanitarium. Was he still alive?
“My friend is in trouble,” Pierre said. “His name is Chester Higgs. He’s been framed for squirreling away Gamblers money. Some guy named Paul put the money in his closet. But he escaped from the Sanitarium.”
Harbinger furrowed his brows. “It’s a lot more severe than that. Chester escaped from the Sanitarium with five Karma subjects and Ethan Chadwick. He’s currently on Ethan’s Uncle’s houseboat. Ethan’s a rebel without a cause as I’m sure you already know. And Chester is thinking of throwing what little is left of his life away.”
“How do you know?” Dot asked.
“Ethan is a Gambler. He’s wearing a listening device.”
Elijah pushed his hand against the wall and a tablet revealed itself underneath. Elijah said, “This is Elijah Harbinger. Pull up my account.”
The tablet announced, “Thank you Mr. Harbinger. What can I do for you today?”
“Pinpoint Ethan Chadwick’s listening device and give us the audio please.”
“Immediately,” the tablet said. The screen displayed a voice print, and they could hear a bevy of voices. Pierre recognized Ethan’s and Chester’s.
“My friend Max is at Southwick Harbor,” Chester said. “He can get us in.”
“Isn’t there a lot of security?” Pierre asked Elijah.
“Why would there be? There’s barely been a criminal act in Audric in ten years,” Elijah said. “If someone knew the codes they could realistically hack into the central computer. But the only person who can tell anyone the codes is Genesis Smith. Max Thurgood surely doesn’t know them. They have tours that they bring through like it’s the White House.” He flicked his earlobe. “Earwig remember? I’m fed information all day.”
“I don’t think Chester would do that,” Pierre said.
“Chester is living a life without any boosts and he’s already as depressed as he can be.”