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The Audric Experiment Page 7
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“What happens if he remembers?” Kalpana asked.
Pierre watched and listened, their voices audible through the thin window.
“We slice off his head.”
“He has a family. He has friends,” Kalpana said.
“We have a family too. A family of Audric devotees. Every Audric Compliant in Brighton. Every smiling student. Every hard working teacher. Every harmonizer. Everyone. He threatens everything we’ve worked for.”
Pierre turned his eyes to Chester. Chester’s hand was shaking and he reached it towards the desk where Kalpana had put the card that opened the wall Pierre had escaped through. He grasped the card without anyone noticing and pocketed it.
“That’s right, bud,” Pierre said to himself.
“What’s this?” Caleb picked up a notepad on the ottoman. He thumbed through it, until he came to a page that seemed to interest him. “Can’t approve of this.”
“Just some random thoughts,” Kalpana said.
“RF shielding?” Caleb said. “Nothing random about that. Phone.” Samuel handed him a phone. Caleb opened it and made a call. “Hendrick. It’s Caleb. Send a signal to Pierre’s nanobot GPS. We’ll see if we can pick it up.”
“Sure,” Hendrick said.
Caleb pressed some buttons on the phone. “He’s close.”
Pierre’s eyes darted around trying to think of how to escape the GPS tracking of his
acceptor. That’s when it occurred to him. He could remember Dot saying, “you’ll figure it out.” He popped open the Grease, poured it onto his left hand and began running it through his hair. He poured again, and lathered his entire scalp with it.
“Lost the signal,” Caleb said.
“Lost the signal?” Samuel said. “Impossible.”
“We lost it.” Caleb closed the phone and turned to Kalpana. “We want to know everything you know.” He took a seat next to Chester. He ruffed his hair. “How’s Karma treating you?” He said to Chester.
Chester nodded. “It’s been all right.”
“I don’t know anything you don’t know,” Kalpana said. “David and I hardly ever speak. He wouldn’t tell me anything except that he was silent for my own protection.”
Pierre thought this was a lie. His guess was Caleb did too. “Maybe that means your worth more dead than alive.” He stood up and fired a shot into Kalpana’s forehead. The blood splattered on the wall behind her. “We’ll blame it on Pure Pierre,” he said to Samuel. “Can’t go around talking about RF shielding. Not in today’s age. Come on. Let‘s go.” He turned to Chester. “That’s Karma for you, Chester. It’s a random bitch.”
His breathing was quick and labored. He broke into a slow run, telling himself Chester wasn’t dead. Even if they were going to pin the murder of Kalpana on him, no one would ever believe he killed his best friend too. But if Chester made a move to reveal what Caleb had done any time soon, he’d be finished. In a matter of hours, Chester would, no doubt, open the secret wall and take the same path he had. But he couldn’t wait for him. Caleb could still be on his tail.
He felt the porcelain mosaic tiles against the soles of his shoes. The walls, the floor – were all blue and white tiles. It was a drinking water tunnel. Up ahead, an entrance led to the right where the water channel, the water clear as air, was at least fifteen feet deep. Pierre knew it was from geological formations that store rain water. It occurred to him that something about that would be on the GSKT if he were taking it. The water reminded him of a swimming pool and he felt a chill go up his spine. He guessed Kalpana would have told him if he needed to take a detour, and he stayed on course breaking into a sprint.
He saw a box on the wall ten meters away. It looked like an electrical box. A key pad was next to it. Kalpana had told him the code he needed to remember was 5925. He stopped and caught his breath. He looked back to the steps seventy meters behind him. No one was on his tail. He typed the code into the pad thinking the box might contain a set of keys. How was he supposed to walk into a facility and walk out?
A cover slid on the box in front of him. Then he got his answer. The box contained a set of guns. Gamblers guns. Eight of them. All unauthorized to fire shots. He took a handgun and flipped a switch turning on a menacing laser that shot out the front of the gun bouncing off the wall. Pierre knew the gun was equipped with a recording device, like a miniature video camera. The data was linked with a computer in Audric Headquarters in Southwick Harbor.
Pierre had never been inside a facility. Only those who had been shocked went to a facility. They were required to go once a year. The good news was: they could watch their post-shock REM dreams. The bad news was: if they did watch their dreams the effect on the reasoning powers of the human brain was disastrous. Some people maintained that watching your dreams was a myth. Few actually bothered to take the risk and ask the administrator if they could watch.
Up ahead, fifty meters away was an elevator. He thought of his parents. They’d be beyond worried. They’d wonder if he was lying in a ditch some place. They’d call The Audric Earnings Authority and be given the run around. He needed a place where he could hold up for a while, some place where no one would look for him, where he had a roof over his head, and access to food and contacts.
His guess was he had less than a day before he’d be an outlaw.
One idea had been rattling around in his head since he saw Caleb shoot Kalpana. The treehouse. If he stayed at Gordy’s treehouse, he could wait to see how Audric was planning on playing their cards. As the elevator approached, he wondered if there was a way to emerge from an elevator into a facility where thirty or more Audric Compliant were getting their bracelet removed and not scare everyone speechless with a gun in his hand. There was only one way to find out. He put the gun in the back of his pants and picked up the pace, headed towards the elevator.
He checked his hair to see if the Grease needed to be reapplied. His hair was still wet. He had no idea how long it would keep the GPS tracking at bay, but he was fairly sure he was fine for a while.
Then a beep sent a tremor through him. The elevator opened. Against the wall was written, Edgar Toll Northeast. Pierre was relieved he was on track. He’d heard of that facility. But then he felt a sinking feeling. The elevator was empty.
Someone was waiting for him.
The elevator invited him, the Edgar Toll Northeast facility name looking like freedom. But he didn’t think getting in the elevator and taking the ride up was a smart move. He was low on options. Turn back and go to the Sanitarium, or keep heading straight, or risk The Audric Earnings Authority waiting for him with guns in their hands outside the elevator. He walked towards the elevator, noticing the removable two-by-two foot tiles that served as a ceiling.
Then he had an idea. He looked down at the gun in his hand. He could put the gun above the ceiling of the elevator, turn on the recording device, send the empty elevator up, then bring it back down, and then listen to what was said. Then he would know who was waiting and why. However, there was a problem with this plan. As soon as he turned on the recording device, it would transmit the image and sound to Audric Headquarters. They’d know exactly where he was and what he was doing.
His guess was it was about 10:40 am. Gamblers didn’t usually go on raid until after twelve. The joke was common that they liked to sleep in. So Gamblers most likely weren’t waiting. He took a deep breath and looked back in the direction from which he had come. Then he decided to put the gun back in his pants and take the risk. He was going to ride the elevator up.
He got in and looked at the panel to the right of the door. He pressed the lit blue button for the door to close and then, his heart beating furiously, he pressed “up.” The facility was, no doubt, only a single story so he didn’t need to decide what floor to go to. The elevator began to move. It was fast. A couple seconds later, he heard the bing. The doors
opened.
He was looking at a hallway. No one was around. He stepped out of the elevator, then withdrew the gun. He jogged lightly down the hallway, and saw a photo of Genesis Smith on the chrome wall. Genesis Smith could have been a movie star in another life. His carefully styled hair, and winning smile, seemed the hallmark of caring and decency. Pierre thought for a moment that maybe everyone had been deceived. Maybe Chester was right. Maybe Audric wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. He picked up the pace.
Up ahead, the hallway emptied into the foyer of the facility. He kept his footsteps light and peered carefully around the corner. No one was there. To his left, the double doors were closed, probably unlocked. No one was waiting. Of course. He realized. The elevator had opened because it had a motion sensor and it picked up his presence. He opened the door and walked out of the facility.
He laughed because he couldn’t think of anything else to do. His eyes well up with tears as he jogged backwards looking at the facility and around the empty Sun Pod lot. Above him the sun shown richly. He looked for a street sign: Ashley Donovan Parkway. Sun Pods on the tracks on the street were going at over a hundred miles an hour. He knew where he was. Gordy’s house was on Ellis Ave, and more importantly, his treehouse, behind his home was only a few blocks away.
He was starving. He checked his pocket for his funds card and pulled out a different card. It was the card Henry Alexander had given him when he proposed Pierre become a mascot for Grease. His funds card was in his back pocket. He decided against using it. He needed to talk to his parents, get to Gordy’s house and find out where he stood with Audric. He could remember Chester giving him that dead man’s look and saying, “Remember Will Sterling?”
Yeah, he thought. I remember Will Sterling.
Perhaps the most common phrase uttered in Brighton was: “put a clip on the BIP.” The BIP stood for Brighton Information Posting and it was more widely and fervently read than most newspapers – even The London Times. The BIP kept the people of Brighton, in particular the Audric Compliant, united and of one peaceful mind. Pierre wanted to check the BIP as soon as possible to see if someone had posted information about his set of circumstances.
The woods ran alongside the Ashley Donovan Parkway and he stayed buried among the trees as he made his way to Gordy’s. He thought running might call attention to himself so he kept low, avoiding tree branches, and sticks underneath his feet. He felt pools of sweat forming on his t-shirt, and he was realizing that none of Gordy’s clothes would fit him. He picked up his pace.
It was Sunday and Gordy was likely home on his computer. As Pierre well knew that was how he spent almost all of his leisure time. Brian had probably returned to the states and Gordy, no doubt, was short on responsibilities. If Pierre was as deep in as it seemed, he would need all the help from Gordy that he could get. He tried to concentrate on his plans as he jogged slowly through the woods, but his mind was racing, and his arms were getting slashed by spiky seedpods of the sweet gum trees.
He arrived on the corner of the Ashley Donovan Parkway and Ellis Ave. He debated the
best route to Gordy’s, reminding himself that he needed to avoid Gordy’s parents and the other people on the street. Gordy’s father, Greg, was a high ranking executive in Generation Gold and his mother, Dixie, was a legal secretary. They had plenty of money. They had met Pierre, but Pierre would be surprised if they had any loyalty to him.
He sighed and then pulled himself together. He dreaded going back into the woods and getting more scraped up, but he had to. He walked through the woods, avoiding the seedpods as best he could. The treehouse was deep in the woods behind Gordy’s backyard where they had hollowed out a bit of the forest. Pierre’s team in Math Wars had gotten the treehouse as a gift when they won. It had taken a Generation Gold machine a few days to assemble.
That, of course, was when Pierre was in fifth grade – six years ago. As Pierre approached it he wondered for the first time if it was still there and if so if it was still inhabitable. Pierre had often slept in the treehouse over the years when Gordy had refused to let Pierre and Chester sleep in his room with him because he liked to use the suit before he went to sleep. Gordy’s parents were tricked into thinking Chester and Pierre had gone home rather than outback and through the woods to the treehouse. The treehouse had glass windows, warm yellow lights, and a bathroom.
Like his room at the Sanitarium, it had a pre-assembled image projecting ceiling. No one except Gordy, Max, Chester, and Pierre knew about the treehouse. They’d all made a pact not to tell anyone. Pierre hoped Gordy could keep his mouth shut about the treehouse if questioned by the Audric Earnings Authority.
He approached the treehouse. Pierre knew that in a normal society he’d be unable to call Gordy without the authorities tracing the call. But in Audric crime was virtually non-existent. That was what made being an outlaw so much worse -- the rarity of it. Now he was special for all the wrong reasons. Because he’d always been Pure Pierre the gossip freeway Kalpana had mentioned was about to start moving at one hundred and fifty miles an hour – full of gleeful drivers.
He walked up the wooden steps of the treehouse guessing it was about three stories up. In the distance, he could make out the back of Gordy’s home. The lights were on and it looked like someone was home. He typed in a code to the right of the door and knew he could find the wall tablet from which he could call Gordy. When he entered the treehouse, he surveyed the surroundings and saw Gordy had changed the bedding and left a pile of books on the night table. He walked over to them and flipped through -- some fiction books about the twentieth century and there were also two books of GSKT practice tests.
He slid a wooden cover to the side and saw the three foot wide tablet was still there. He typed in Gordy’s number and told him to come to the treehouse. Pierre knew that Gordy looked up to him to the point that he was slightly jealous. He was always saying that shocks hurt like hell, which wasn’t true, but Pierre knew Gordy was trying to convince himself that Pierre’s no shock lifetime wasn’t a big deal. More importantly, Gordy was so skinny it made having a girlfriend a virtual impossibility, and Pierre, of course, didn’t have a problem.
Gordy always dressed in all black. His father had a slew of black clothes for him manufactured by Generation Gold. Through the window, in the distance, Pierre could see Gordy making his way through the woods towards the treehouse. He had high cheekbones, sunken in cheeks, and brown eyes. He often said Pierre needed to lose weight. This wasn’t true but anyone was fat compared to Gordy.
It was the first thing Gordy mentioned. “Growing soft at the infirmary, huh? Getting a bit pudgy.”
“Better than your jet fueled metabolism. If you get any lighter you’re gonna float away.” Pierre managed a forced smile, then slapped his buddies palm.
“All I need is my fingers, baby. Ruling the French empire ain’t easy. Gotta decide who to kill,” Gordy said, as he took off his jacket.
Pierre swallowed. “I need your help.” He sat on the bed.
Gordy smiled. “Yeah, buddy. It doesn’t cost anything. What are friends for?”
“This might be a tall order.”
“Doesn’t get much taller than me.”
“I gotta hold up here for awhile. Just until I have a good idea what’s going on.”
“What’s the news?”
“Caleb Price is the new Head of Security for Audric. He killed Kalpana, my therapist.”
“By accident?”
“Shot her in the head.”
“Why?” Gordy sat down in a chair.
“He said I threaten the Zero Proposition. They’re gonna blame her murder on me.”
“The Zero Proposition?” Gordy said, incredulous. “Topple the system, dude. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
Pierre managed another weak smile. “How you gonna do that?” Pierre thought it was most likely a joke.
“You�
��re not gonna like it. But I’ll tell you tomorrow if it turns out you’re not an outlaw. You check the BIP yet?”
“Haven’t had a chance. Came straight here.”
Gordy walked over to the wall and slid a board aside revealing the tablet Pierre had just used. Gordy pressed some buttons quickly like a proficient machine and brought up the BIP. Then he typed in Pierre Morena: “No new matches found.”
“You’ve got nothing new on the BIP.”
“I heard they held a rally for me.”
“Yeah. Audric Earnings Authority came around school asking everyone what they knew
about you. A lot of people started to think you were the victim. People got together. And said protect Pierre.”
Pierre sighed. “Makes me feel a little better, I guess. Maybe I’ll get some witnesses on my side if Genesis Smith calls a tribunal.”
“Why’d you run, dude? Why not let them take you in. It’s your word against theirs.”
“Caleb is gonna kill me and David said, everyone in Audric is gonna look the other way. Less muss, less fuss. I need to evaluate my options.”
Gordy raised his hands palms up. “Hey, mi casa es su casa.”
Pierre looked confused for a minute then brightened. “My house is your house, right?”
Gordy nodded.
“I don’t know how I know that.” Pierre couldn’t remember ever learning that expression. What came out of his mouth next was even more shocking. “It was a common expression from Mexico centuries ago.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t know how I know that either.” He cocked his head to the side.
“You all right?”
“I’m getting dizzy.”
Gordy looked intrigued. He pressed. “Napoleon had a commitment to free trade. Tried military intervention …”
“A friendly government in Mexico would ensure European access to Latin American markets.”
“Probably don’t know how you know that either.”
“Yeah. I don’t know why I feel this way. It’s like every time my mind gets close to something I can’t deal with it.”