It wasn’t until he was a hundred meters down the passageway, headed in the general direction of the Factory, that he was able to stop.
He had to—the noise and imagery inside his head had grown worse with every step. It was the Factory he was seeing, several structures he recognized but had never explored in any serious way. They kept leaping out at him, turning upside down and sideways, like children trying to get his attention—
Feeling that he might faint, he leaned against the wall just as a voice called, “Wait!”
Someone was following him. Who, why? Harley had just expelled him from the habitat, so this could hardly be friendly. Dale turned, prepared to fight.
Sanjay Bhat was jogging toward him. “You are making my new life difficult,” he said, bending to catch his breath.
The images relaxed and settled. Dale felt a calming warmth—a certainty. “Are you doing that?” he asked Sanjay.
“I’m just the enabler.”
“What does it mean?”
“That is still, unfortunately, quite unclear. All I know is, I have been compelled to find you and . . . share this with you.”
“A specific location in the Factory.”
“Apparently.”
“You have no idea why?”
“I hope it will be obvious when you reach it. And you need to reach it soon.” Yes, Dale felt that, too.
“What about you?”
Sanjay glanced far down the tunnel the way he had come. “I am headed back to Earth.”
“Of your own choice—?”
Sanjay laughed. “Since when have we done anything by our own choice?”
“Do you know why, at least?”
Sanjay waggled a finger at him as he turned to go. “Yes, I do.”
Dale couldn’t believe the man was leaving. “Tell me! I need to know!”
But Sanjay disappeared into the darkness. Dale took several steps after him but was stricken by a headache so violent that he vomited.
He wiped his mouth and considered his next move. As Sanjay said, there was no choice. In his many failed or partially successful communions with Keanu’s systems, Dale had learned that the NEO itself had weapons. It was the biggest, nastiest platform around, too, like an aircraft carrier—
For him it was back to the Factory immediately.
What is it like living under the Aggregates?
Most Americans would probably never know the difference. For example, they still vote for their fellow citizens for city council or mayor or Congress or the Senate. And the president. The Aggregates have “representatives” in Washington and most state capitals that parallel bodies of government, but you never see them. (And there is no Aggregate shadow “president,” but rather an entire formation that is in and out of the White House every day.)
Major corporations, and some not so major, also have Aggregate shadows. Again, you don’t see them. (Of course, the fact that the Aggregates shadow every media organization means complete censorship of those images.)
Crime and punishment are a whole different deal, because the Aggregate shadows are particularly active in the penal system, scooping up habitual offenders for work camps and disappearing those who don’t or won’t perform.
What we got: Relatively better national security. Access to new developments in technology. Fewer criminals on the street or in prisons (depending on how loosely you define criminal).
What we gave up: Control of our own destiny as a nation. Free speech and press. Due process.
The horrible truth is . . . a lot of Americans accept the Aggregates. For them, life is sweet and trouble-free.
They just don’t realize that (a) it isn’t theirs any longer, and (b) the Aggregates have a history of using up planets and moving elsewhere, and what’s left behind is usually destroyed.
Personal note: I had a good friend who grew up in the Soviet Union when it was still Communist, so a lot like that.
GERALD MCDOW, INTRODUCTION TO STASIS:
THE HUMAN RACE’S LOST LEGACY POST-2020,
CONTRACTED TO YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS, UNPUBLISHED
YAHVI
“Mom?”
No answer.
“Dad?”
No.
“Zeds? Xavier?”
Nothing.
If Yahvi Stewart-Radhakrishnan disliked Earth based on her experiences at Yelahanka, her arrival at Edwards made certain she would never think of her parents’ home world with anything but loathing. Ever since being hauled up the stairs and shoved into this room by a pair of smiling humans in stupid black suits, she had tried whatever she could: shouting and pounding to start.
Then she had searched for some way to break out of the room. However, with no tools and nothing but a door and a barred window to work on, she had little hope of success. She thought about trying to dig a hole in a wall, but the surface was too hard. Then there were odd little slitted plates at various places—electrical outlets, she realized. (They didn’t have such things in the human habitat on Keanu.) But she had nothing to jam into an outlet but a finger, and she knew that wasn’t going to do her any good . . . and possibly a great deal of harm.
Forced to leave her Beta unit and bag, Yahvi had been taken off the plane with no immediate violence but still found herself separated from her parents to be held by unfriendly humans in stupid black suits. There were also soldiers with guns, and several other people who all acted very concerned, important, and unhappy.
When Edgar Chang was carried out, followed by Colin Edgely, things had just gotten crazy, with shouting and shoving. The Australian had gotten into a shouting match with one of the officials, a dark-haired man in a suit who had identified himself as Mr. de la Vega, and Edgely had been knocked to the ground.
Rachel and Pav had emerged then, adding to the chaos, which ramped up to a whole new level once everyone got sight of Zeds.
The problem was, the “welcoming committee” seemed divided about its behavior. One group was eager to hit and kick Chang and Edgely, while others kept trying to restrain them.
Neither group seemed to know what to do with Zeds . . . the giant Sentry was goaded to an open area and forced to stand at gunpoint, like a trapped animal.
Soldiers had also carried Xavier Toutant out of the plane, and one of them had shouted something about a possible bomb on board—
That was when everything got worse. Shots were fired and Yahvi was pulled toward the nearest building with such force that she had bruises.
Her last sight of Rachel was her mother reaching for her, shouting for her to “be careful!”
Whatever that meant. She had been careful this whole trip, and look where it had gotten her.
Oh, she was pretty sure they had shot Edgar Chang.
As she was hauled inside the building, she saw something she had had nightmares about . . . an entire wall covered with tiny Reivers, the black units oozing and wriggling like bugs and obviously working with another thing Yahvi never wanted to see:
A whole formation of Reiver anteater types. They were buzzing around like mechanical children, each group of three intent on some action, all of them making Yahvi want to grab a soldier’s gun and start shooting.
Now it was night. She had been locked up in a small room with a cot and no furniture or fixtures other than a sink for several hours. She had no idea where her parents were, or Zeds, or Xavier. She was cold and hungry.
And afraid. She had been so afraid for so long she forgot what it was like to be unafraid.
Her room was on the second floor of the building and looked to the east. (With no experience of landscapes and directions, it took Yahvi a few seconds to make the calculation.)
There, in the dark sky, though still lit by the sun setting in the distant west, was a giant cloud rising from the ground. It looked like a fire.