The Facilitator (7 page)

She struggled with images that shifted and faded as she tried to stare at them. “No. I tried… I wanted to know about his disease, but he wasn’t in the medical section. I finally found him…”

“Where?”

“Where you told me to look. 12-19 B. A door. There was a huge door and it had something on it. A symbol. It slammed in my face.” She leaned back on a sigh.

“Do you remember the symbol?”

“Yes.” She half-closed her eyes as light brightened over the horizon. “Dawn’s coming.”
How do I know that
?

“Tell me about the symbol, Martine.”

John sounded serious so she tried to describe it. “Round…no…a long oval. With a sort of dash in the middle…it could have been ancient. Greek perhaps?”

“Did it look like this?” John picked up a twig, leaned forward and drew some markings in the sandy path beneath their feet.

She stared. Then nodded. “That’s it. That’s what I saw on the barrier.”

“
Theta
.”

John barely breathed the word, but as soon as it passed his lips, Martine’s dream began to crumble and she awoke chilled and startled, as if somebody had moved in her bedroom.

She even sat up and activated the low light. Her room was, of course, empty. And the silence in her apartment was a normal kind of silence that told her she was alone. Leaving the light as it was, she lay back and tugged the covers around her neck.

What was this
theta
symbol? What did it represent? And how did she know what dawn looked like or even that it was coming?

She’d never seen the
real
sun rise. For generations, nobody had. The atmosphere had become discolored by too many decades of careless pollution. Although it was improving, it was still nowhere near the point where the sun’s rays could be discerned through the murk. Occasionally there was a brief sighting of a glowing disk. That was it.

The planet had evolved and adapted to what mankind had done to it. But those precious moments just before dawn were now only memories. Or video reproductions. What she’d seen…well, it felt like the real thing.

Martine found herself trying to grasp an alien concept, one that involved reality. And exactly what reality she was living in.

But her brain couldn’t work around that idea, and although she didn’t realize it, she once again fell asleep.

This time, she didn’t dream at all.

In his lofty apartment on top of the Eternal Tranquility facility, Williams Jr. stared out of the functioning windows into the murk of the predawn hours. He knew people envied him the specially reinforced glass holes in his wall.

He wasn’t sure they were on the right track, since all they showed was a world gone to hell and back. Mostly the atmosphere was dark, a result of the permanent discoloration and deformation within the thermosphere levels. He didn’t understand the science, but—like everyone else—had learned to live with the result.

They were now little more than cave dwellers on the surface of their own planet, and would be for some time to come. Some tech eggheads estimated a four-generation recovery time, and Williams had sighed when he’d read that. Yes, he was rich enough to take advantage of the existence-elongation experiments and anticipated another fifty or seventy-five years on top of the eighty he’d already seen. He was active, possessed of the latest in heart replicants and monitored constantly for any changes in either of those conditions.

And yet, even with all those extra years of living and all the technological advances humankind had made, up to and including the ability to cater one’s own death…there would soon be no one alive who’d seen the sun shine in a blue sky.

Many lights twinkled in the murk, of course, catching his eye as he stood and stared out. There were people all over the place, not as cluttered as in past generations, and probably better off. There would always be a war going on somewhere. And always people who took the easy way to what they wanted. Crime hadn’t disappeared. But the poverty levels had diminished, most people had a job of one sort or another, and he liked to think the human race was improving as time passed.

He certainly felt that Eternal Tranquility was doing its part. He was looking forward to spending some of those additional years he’d bought for himself in a rather nice little enclave in the Caribbean, one area where there was rumored to be an occasional sighting of the sun, and the waters were a lot less polluted than anywhere else. Yes, Eternal Tranquility was turning out to be his private golden goose and he was happily anticipating devouring the omelet made from its golden egg.

A discreet chirp drew his wandering thoughts away from esoteric considerations of life and back to the job at hand. He walked to his desk and touched the intercom screen. “Yes?”

“President Chan calling from Shanxi Corporation, Director. He would like to know if he may speak with you?” His monitoring program made him smile. He’d programmed her to his own specifications, knowing he’d be more likely to work well with the gentle tones of a well-educated woman.

“Please tell him it would be my honor. And then put him on.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Wendy, make sure all security protocols are in place? This is an A-4 level priority call.”

“Very good, Director. Please hold for President Chan.” The program’s soft voice faded away.

Within seconds the perfectly groomed image of the president appeared on the screen, the logo of his corporation prominently displayed behind him, watermarking his image. “Greetings, Director Williams. I apologize for the lateness of this call.”

“Good evening, President Chan. There is no need for apologies. I am always happy to speak with you.”

There was a moment’s pause, an unusual occurrence, realized Williams. The President of Shanxi seldom hesitated about anything.

“You have acquired a new facilitator, we understand.”

“That is correct.” Williams nodded. “He’s extremely talented, plenty of experience on his resume and comes directly from a federal facility where his skills weren’t fully explored. We’re proud of being able to recruit him. Quite a coup for Eternal Tranquility.”

“He is…of concern to our security division.”

Williams frowned. “I believe you have received all his paperwork for review, as usual? We weren’t informed of any issues that might prevent us acquiring him.”

“Yes.” The president paused again. “We are investigating all possibilities. There will be an alert placed next to his name, and he will be watched closely at all times. His federal background is not something to be taken lightly at this stage of our operation.”

Williams grunted. “Oh come now, President Chan. I don’t believe it’s likely that he could be anything other than what he appears. Our vetting procedures are much too thorough to let just anyone slip under our net and into our facility.”

“And others have procedures just as thorough, Director.” Chan’s eyebrows moved together, indicating the gravity of the situation. “Never underestimate anyone, especially federal organizations. These days, we cannot be too careful. And now? More than ever we must be vigilant.”

“I understand.” Williams gave a little bow. Nothing to lose by humoring the man, even though he was probably just enjoying a few moments playing with his overdeveloped corporate hobby—paranoia.

“He is already engaging in sexual intercourse with Martine TwoSeven, and that may prove problematical.”

“He is?” Williams managed to keep his jaw from dropping. “That was quick. How did you…?”

“We remain ever vigilant, Director, as I stated before. I suggest you do the same.”

On that slightly reprimanding note, the communication ceased abruptly, leaving the director of Eternal Tranquility wondering if he’d made a huge mistake acquiring Johann Eleven, and also astounded that the man had managed to get Martine TwoSeven into bed within hours of meeting her.

He shook his head as he reached for the comm screen to alert security. Damn. Any man who could get into a woman’s pants that fast deserved to be watched. He obviously possessed a secret a lot of men would kill to learn.

With a chuckle to himself, Williams activated the system and realized his day was off to a busy start. He never spared a thought for the fact that yet again nobody on Earth would see the sun rise.

Chapter Six

The days and weeks fell into a pattern for Martine—and to some extent, Johann.

Most days they would see each other, some nights they would spend together, and they became clearly identified as a couple by the Eternal Tranquility staff. There were the usual jealous rumblings by one disappointed person or another, but overall the romantic development was welcomed, since anything new or different was always an interesting topic for discussion in the rec room.

Finally it became just another part of everyone’s day, and that was exactly how Martine wanted it. Nothing out of the ordinary anymore. Nobody paying close attention or watching them.

Of course, whether somebody was watching them…well, she didn’t know. But trusting her instincts, she remained true to her private nature. While she might touch Johann’s hand now and again, spend time with him, smile at him a lot and make it clear they were an item, she was not—and never had been—an overtly demonstrative person. There were no passionate, lingering kisses in doorways, or brief groping moments when they were alone during the day. Instead they would simply talk, as lovers do, often discussing the book he’d given her and her impressions of the strangely appealing story.

They saved all the physical interactions for Martine’s apartment at night, where the kisses alternated between fierce and sensual, hungry and sated. Where the groping was mutual, the eager coupling a shared and overwhelming need, and the comfort of a loving embrace was the perfect conclusion to their day.

Martine knew him better now, this man with two names. She knew Johann, her coworker, quiet and charming, friends with so many at Eternal Tranquility now that he’d found his feet in his new environment. And she knew John, intense and passionate lover, man with secrets he shared and, she suspected, many more he didn’t.

They met in the occasional dream, but it seemed that the more they loved physically, the less they drifted together in an alternate reality. Martine didn’t mind much. She had him, in her bed, in her arms…no matter what his name was, she knew she was committing herself to him on a level she’d never attained before.

Their work continued, facilitations were completed, and nothing untoward occurred to upset the delicate balance, or remind Martine of the Taber incident. Johann had not spoken at all of it—their guts told them both that unguarded conversation was unwise. And dream-John seemed not to want to discuss the business.

So Martine let it go, content to love and be loved, to explore new sexual adventures with a special man, to experience the pleasure of a fulfilling affair.

She learned that he was as talented as she was in the matter of facilitation. Just how talented was made clear on the day he met her outside her patient’s room with a suggestion.

“Mrs. Alder loves her great-granddaughter. She wants to see her in Venice.” He watched Martine’s face.

“Hmm.” She blinked at him. “Okay. I can go with that. Why are you telling me this?”

“Because the little girl hasn’t turned three yet. She wants to see her grown up with her own life before she dies. She wants to see her with her own husband.”

“Very traditional.”

“Mrs. Alder is a hundred and nineteen. I think she’s entitled.”

Martine smiled. “Can’t argue with that.”

“So here’s my suggestion. Let’s facilitate her together.”

“Really?
Together
? Double-team her?” Martine knew her eyes were probably popping out of her head at the unusual suggestion. “Is that even
possible
?”

“Theoretically, I think so. Yes.” His gaze was steady, his face expressionless. “I spent some time with R&D last week, talking over this very scenario. They’ve adapted some of the equipment for a dual interface. There’s no logical reason why it won’t work.”

Martine considered the idea. “Interesting.”

“We’d be charting new territory, Martine. But I reckon it would let us open up a crowd scenario. Right now, you know we can’t really handle more than a couple of people in the neural interface. It’s just too complex for one brain to manage. But here’s a chance to see if we can expand our horizons a bit. And R&D are drooling at the thought of all the data they’ll have to play with.”

“Mrs. Alder’s family’s on board?”

He nodded and passed her the small tablet with all the relevant information on it. She scanned it quickly, noting the approval checks scattered all over the electronic data. “Okay then. I’m good with trying this.”

“Excellent.” He touched her shoulder briefly. “I’ll let the nurses’ station know, drop this off at the facilitation desk and meet you back here in ten minutes or so?”

“Yessir.” She gave him a mock salute and a cocky grin. “Just enough time for a quick energy bar.”

He winked and moved away as she turned for the rec room and the vending machines. An energy bar wasn’t a bad idea before a facilitation, if it was going to be straightforward.

This was a new experience, but she didn’t expect it to be an unpleasant one. Johann was right. Most of her facilitations involved just her and the patient. The setting wasn’t difficult—extracted from various memory cells where images were stored in precise detail. Things like temperature, scents, colors—all nicely compartmentalized in the human brain, just waiting for the right knock on the door to come out and play.

Her own image within the facilitation was also dictated by the patient, more or less. She was always female, of course. But her hair color, body type and so on…these were all at the whim of the customer.

Where it got tricky was if somebody, like Mrs. Alder, wanted to spend their last moments in the middle of a crowd. Usually, they were persuaded to find another cherished memory and use that instead. It was just too much of a challenge for the facilitator’s brain and the facilitation equipment to generate a large number of people as well as create a unique setting.