Chapter

 11

Smiling at his reverie, he once again flashed back on Quill, standing with a glass of orange juice in each hand, selling him on Virtual Reality as a way of life.  “It’s so simple, Urian.  For the VR applications, the Nanobots in this glass will take up positions beside every nerve fiber coming from your senses.  Taste, touch, smell, see and hearing abilities will still be in your biological control, except when they’re not, per your will.  When we desire to enter a chosen environment, our little army of servants will suppress the signals from our real senses, and in their place, provide virtual ones.  From there, well, where do you want to go?  Our virtual body will move, speak and otherwise interface with the virtual environment.  Our real bodies will remain dormant.  Our virtual bodies will go and do anything we wish.  Beats hell out of video games, eh?  It’s groovy, don’t you think, Urian?”  It was the “groovy” that rubbed him the wrong way.  Quill was still a hippie at heart.  

Urian looked at the temperature reading on his rearview mirror.  One hundred five degrees.  No wonder he was uncomfortable.  He turned up the air conditioning and took a long drink from his water bottle.  Once again, he peered out across the desert and shook his head.  Do you believe how fast all this is happening?

Urian had been top of his class at MIT and spent the subsequent postgraduate years under Dr. Quill’s tutelage.  Within two years of working in Quill’s “by invitation” only experimentation lab in Nanotechnology, Urian had made his talents invaluable.  Upon the patenting of Quill’s application of Nano machines for cloning human memory, the scientist extraordinaire wasted no time in recruiting him into a top-level Nano engineering position.  A business relationship that had started simple enough, quickly graduated into a partnership. 

Now, just a few years later, one of the richest scientists the world had ever known, succeeded in making Urian very wealthy, as well.  Working as Quill’s alter ego, he was expected to challenge the impossible.  Up until recently, he felt he was fulfilling his obligation.  Today, however, having been briefed on Quill’s expectations with the accelerated dream intrusions, he wasn’t sure how he felt. 

Urian lit a cigarette.  What if Quill was right?  What if all our neuroses could be cured?  Weren’t insecurity, anxiety, depression and irrational fears part of the very fibre of being human? 

                                                      ---

Richard stood back from the easel and turned his head, side to side.  The artist turned on his stool and asked, “Close?”

“Not even,” said Richard.

“Hey, I told you, I only do portraits.  I told you…”

Richard stepped up to the easel.  “I know what you told me, but…”  He picked up a piece of charcoal and lightly drew lines around the old Iranian woman wearing the long black chador and head cover.  “Bigger.  She was bigger.  And the eyes… God, eyes like a raging bull.  Haven’t you ever seen bull’s eyes when they’re pissed?”

“No, man.  I’m just a fuckin’ Central Park artist, tryin’ to make a livin’.”

“And didn’t that hundred-dollar bill help you make a living today?  And in Godard air temperature comfort?”

“Yeah, thanks mister, but…”

“No buts.  Make her bigger and start putting the colors in there.  Want a coke?”

“No, man.  How about some scotch?”

Richard went to his liquor cabinet.  “Gotta have this ready by tonight.  You want water with that?”

“What kind?”

“Water.  Water’s water,” said Richard.

“No, the scotch.”

“Johnny Walker.”

“Red or Black?”

“Black, for God’s sake.”

“No water.”

“Jesus, for a starving artist, you’re kind of picky, wouldn’t you say?”

“I starve some of the time, but it ain’t gonna be that way forever.  Gotta keep plannin’ and educatin’ right?  So… this better?” he asked, pushing his stool back.  “Got the hag’s body big, like you said.”

“I never said she was a hag.  Here,” said Richard handing his artist-for-the-day a hi-ball glass of Johnny Black.   The woman in his dream was standing there, her eyes wide at the extrication of the “thing” as Richard had described the imaginings of pain in his dream.  “Now, you gotta get that orange and red fire goin’ between her spread legs, you know?”

The artist took a big swallow of scotch and said, “Some dream, pal.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’ tonight.”

The artist leaned in and started applying the colors.  “What’s the big deal tonight?”

“Long story, but my bet is one of the females at that meeting is gonna look at this and have a coronary.  This is not my dream.  I’ve never played a woman in any dream, except that one time…”

“Christ, man.  Don’t tell me.  I’m a homophobic from way back.  You know?  Can’t take that shit.”

Richard walked to the refrigerator and took out a tray of ice.  “He better be prepared to answer some questions.”

“Pardon?” said the artist.

“Urian.  Just thinkin’ out loud.”  He poured himself some iced coffee and leaned on the counter.  Why so sudden?  Why did Urian decide to meet the four of us all in person?  Has to be important, but what kind of importance? 

                                                      ---

  Hector walked from one small plant to another with his water can.  “I’m expecting most will turn up, given it’s the middle of the week.  I set the video up to record for the absentees.”

“Good,” said Urian as he rounded the pool table, setting the balls up for the shot.

Hector glanced over his shoulder.  “Still trying to make that shot, aren’t you?”

“You know me, Hector.”

He nodded with a grin and continued watering.  “One visit of yours before all these tenants arrived and a couple of telvid calls isn’t much.”

“But enough, right?”

Hector nodded, hesitantly.

“Hector, you remember being the first one Quill was willing to accept into the program, don’t you?”

“Not easy to forget.  Gave me what I wanted, and… I guess he’s getting what he wanted.”

“He was very impressed with your varied back ground and smarts.  Like me, he especially likes strong people.”

“You never accept a weakness, do you?” asked Hector.

Urian placed the six ball carefully on the lip of the side pocket.  “Not true.  Just don’t like it in myself.”

Hector picked some dead leaves out of one of the plants, then gave it a good drink.  “Just part of being human, Urian?”

“You know my answer to that.”

“Quill has sent you on this trip for a special reason, hasn’t he?”

“You know he’d never have me do something in person if he thought he could get away with it on screen.”  Urian chalked his cue.  “Think the six is too close?  I mean, am I cheating with it that much on the edge.”

Hector glanced again, this time moving in close to the table.  He leaned down, squinted one eye and said, “You had it that close on your first visit and missed.  You need all the cheating you can get away with.”  He chuckled.  “I’d worry about the three ball, if I were you.”

Urian peered across the table at the three-ball sitting about a quarter inch off the rail.  “Too close?”

“Too far away.”

“C’mon.  Any closer it’s kissing.”

“Another nudge, just so it’s not touching,” cautioned Hector.

“You are one perfectionist freak, aren’t you?”

‘“Perfectionist’ freak.  Now, that’s a new one.”

Urian looked up.  Hector was now spraying the leaves of his Philodendron with a misting hose.  “How the hell you keep the plants so green?  Barely any light down here.”

“The purples do the job.”  He pointed up at the group of purple spotlights that pointed at the plants that filled the corner of the room.

Urian nodded and went back to the final setup of the eight ball.  “You’re really happy doing this, aren’t you?”

“Urian, just doing what I love.  I can thank you and Quill for that.”

“But, I mean, you never complain.  You stand eight hours a day outside.  Clean up the public rooms. I don’t know, what for?  Three, four nights a week of broom pushing.”  He pointed the pool stick across the room.  “Living like this.  Not exactly the Ritz.”

“You and Quill gave me what I wanted.”

“And you gave Quill what he wanted.  You still okay with that?”

“He must have seen something in me that I didn’t see.  I’ve never been singled out as having anything of worth, Urian.  That one phone call he made… he kept telling me I was different, but he explained why he wouldn’t use the word ‘special’.  I don’t know what he saw or what he had that optometrist put in my head, but I think it was probably more than an implant FDA approved.”  He looked up at Urian, who ducked and continued lining up the shot.   Hector put his water bottle and misting hose back on the shelf and sat down on his Capone stool.  “Am I okay with it?  Should I not be?”

“No.  Quill said he wanted you to have the implant, and so, he’s watching you watch me right now and waiting for your answer, I’m sure... aren’t you Quill?”

“I’m fine.  In fact, there’s a certain sense of peace and contentment I get from knowing my every move is being watched.  I lost a lot of that kind of consciousness back in the Himalayas.  Up that high, a lot of us Sherpas began to believe we were super human.  Some of us even reached that point where we believed there was something higher than the God most everyone believes created everything.  Giving up the traditional beliefs has its drawback, you know.  You always walk around not sure.”  Hector turned toward one of the corner surveillance cameras.  “Here’s a double thank you, Mr. Quill.  My eye, your camera, just a together moment.  Okay?  You may not be God, or that something higher up, but you keep me honest with myself.  Not easy to do.”   He turned back to Urian.  “You going to take that shot, or wait until after the meeting?”

Urian held his fix on Hector a moment longer.  “That was a mouthful, you know.” 

“Mere thinking out loud.  The shot?”

“I think I’m about ready.”

“Are you sure?”

“You mean am I ready to put some faith, determination and trust into the shot?”

Hector nodded and leaned on one elbow, tilting his head for the shot. The Zen belief is ‘Wherever you are, be there totally’.”

“Richard hasn’t made it yet, has he?” quipped Urian.

Hector shook his head.

“So… did you think he would make it?  I mean he practices a lot.”

Hector shook his head again.  “You practiced a lot also back at your lab, but…”

“You don’t think I’ll make it, do you?”

Hector shrugged.

Urian looked at his watch, then hesitantly at the table.  “Our four are probably arriving about now, don’t you think?  Maybe...”

“Yes, they probably are.  But it only takes on average two point seven seconds to complete the shot.”

“Yeah.”  Urian leaned down and took aim. “Faith, determination and trust.”

                                                      ---

Sami, Richard, Liz, Gloria and Hector sat attentively before Urian.  On the table were bottles of water, a large urn of coffee, plus a fruit and cheese platter.  Some picked at the spread, while others sat exchanging niceties as Urian turned to Hector and whispered, “You did tell Tito 10:00 didn’t you?”

Hector nodded.

Urian unbuttoned his coat and turned to the others.  “Well, let’s get started, shall we.  You all know each other, I presume, so let me more formally introduce myself.  Somehow, the screen renders everything impersonal, and we are going to get personal tonight.  You know me as Urian, and that will suffice for the moment.  My background is in Nanotechnology and my present job with Keyhole project is to manage the monitoring of your implants.”

Richard leaned forward.  “That’s what I thought it was all about, but there’s more than monitoring going on with some of us, isn’t there?”

“I’m getting to that, Richard,” said Urian.   “As I was saying, my job is to manage the monitoring and to make recommendations based on the data received.  To that end, I have asked you to gather with me as there are some details you need to be made aware of.  Richard, let’s address you for the moment, as you’ve had some rather disturbing dreams, off and on, correct?”

“Mostly on.  And disturbing hardly states the facts.”

“Well, let me say, after having viewed the recordings of your dreams, I agree.”

Sami tilted her head.  “Urian, what’s this all about?  We know Richard and Liz had some lulus, but…”

“Obviously, you’ve seen mine as well, right?” said Gloria.

“Yes, Gloria.  We’ve seen yours.”  He turned to Sami.  “As far as you are concerned, we’ve not seen the same kind of activity, but you’re here in this room right now because we believe you will, just as Hector’s stats suggest he will.  What’s happening, we didn’t expect.  While you’re sleeping, what you’re seeing in your dreams are as clear as what your seeing during your waking hours.  We don’t understand why, but we’re working on it.  As far as your anxieties are concerned…” he looked to Richard again, “…and especially yours, Richard, I want to assure you there is nothing, to my knowledge, happening in your dreams that is due to you being a part of the Keyhole project.”

“Meaning?” asked Richard, as he wiped some perspiration from his forehead. 

“Meaning, just that.  You were all chosen because of your inordinate personalities, which in and of itself, might explain the intensity of the dreams.  We’re just not sure.”

“So, what about the first dream I remembered… that I spoke to Liz about and she revealed she’d had the same damn one?  How do you explain that?”

“I don’t.  We’re allowing the computers to break that dream down and see if it comes up with anything, but as of now, nothing.”

Liz stammered a bit as she asked, “There are things I dream I wouldn’t want anybody else to know about.  Do you understand how vulnerable I feel?”

“Yes, Liz.  It’s been several weeks now, and neither you or Richard have had a repeat of similar dreams, right?”

“Liz and I haven’t, but…”  Richard reached down and pulled up the drawing, laying it on the table.  “Look familiar to anyone?”

There was silence for a moment.  “No,” said Liz.

“Christ,” said Gloria.  “I’ve seen something like that in my…”

“Dreams?” said Richard excitedly.

Gloria shook her head.  “No.  I… no.  I’m mistaken.”

“You sure?” asked Richard.

“I’m sure,” said Gloria, turning toward Urian.  “You’d know if I’d had that dream, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe,” said Urian.

“Well, I had the nightmare, and labor pains aren’t my cup of tea.”

Liz let out a nervous laugh.  “Me neither.”

“Not funny, Liz.  Arabic, black robes, fire…”

Richard pulled the painting off the table.  “Enough.  So, you came all the way here, from… by the way, where do you come from?”

“Somewhere far, far away,” said Urian softly, trying to keep the atmosphere light.  He then addressed the group.  “Liz, Richard and Gloria… your dreams are vivid, I’ll admit.  The reason I called you all here tonight is because the read out of neuron activity in all of you during the sleep state is very similar.  We’ve just not seen images yet from Hector and Sami.  Should that happen, I want to assure you that the vivid nature of your dreams is not due to anything we’re doing.”

 “So, you brought us together to warn us that these dreams could get worse?” said Richard.

“How would I know that?  I just wanted you to know out of the sixty- five enrolled, you’re the only ones showing these peaks on the charts.  I wanted you to know that even though they’re being recorded, and you may feel they’re even more personal than the daytime monitoring, well, just rest assured they fall legally under the same binding clause as the rest of your contract.  We will divulge nothing to third parties.”

“And you’ll not ‘…venture the findings for any public access at any time in the future,’ I believe the contract states,” said Sami, whose gaze remained on the tabletop.

“Your legal job is teaching you much, I see,” said Urian.

“Enough,” said Sami.

Hector stood up.  “Well, if there’s nothing more, I would suggest we wrap this up, as your other appointment, Urian, is due is another five minutes.”

“Any other questions?” asked Urian.

Everyone stood up to leave. 

“I hope you’re enjoying your stay here at The Godard,” said Urian.

Liz, Richard, Gloria and Sami all nodded with sarcastic grins, as Hector gathered the food and drinks.  Sami remained sitting.  As the other three left, Sami turned to Urian, her face suddenly drawn.  “That picture of Richard’s.”

“Yes?” said Urian.

“You know I had that same dream.”

Urian held his gaze on her.

“The monitors didn’t pick anything up.  When?” asked Urian with total surprise.

“Don’t remember… last week, I think.”

“Why didn’t you say anything when Richard asked?” said Urian.

“You really didn’t pick it up, did you?”

“No.”

“Because in mine, I was the midwife.”  She cleared her throat.  “That was not a pretty birth.  So… is there more going on here than you’re telling us?  You tell me my neuron readout is the same as the others, but you pick up his full-blown nightmare, and mine doesn’t register?” 

Hector paused in his cleaning up.

Urian took a quiet deep breath and nodded.  “I need an answer too, okay?  And I’ll do my best to get one for you.  I promise.”

Sami nodded and dropped her head.

“Do you care to… tell me about what you saw born?”

Sami shook her head.  “Never,” she muttered.  “Never.”