The Lightcap (15 page)

Hana didn’t look completely satisfied, but she did look as if the prospect of dating an unemployed man did not appeal to her.  Doing his best to steer her thoughts down that path, Adam said, “The fact I’ve even told you it’s related to my job probably breaches some agreement.  I really should stop talking about it.  Please trust me, I’m fine.  I just had to check on something.”  He delivered these last lines with a flat voice and even eyes, in an effort to imply that he was genuinely scared.  She relented, then withdrew shortly after to her own apartment.  Adam sighed once she left, frustrated with himself for acting like a freak and with Hana for coming back from her trip early, that night of all nights.  He already felt like an idiot, and having to answer her questions did not alleviate that sentiment.

With a groan, Adam collapsed onto his bed.  He could still taste the scent of burnt bark from Damen’s furnace.  He briefly wondered why the scent stuck with him before falling asleep.

Part Two

Muse

“To feed your muse, then, you should always have been hungry about life since you were a child. If not, it is a little late to start.”

—Ray Bradbury

Adam closed his eyes and, one odd sensation later, his alarm went off.  Monday was waking him again.  Despite his odd dream and reaction to it, another weekend had departed, blurred and mixed with every other moment from the past year.  That morning’s subway commute contained no old man or flashes of false memories and culminated in the same rocket trip to the top floor of the Adaptech high-rise, the same solitary walk down the hallway to room 4C.  The conference table, the faces seated in the same places, made his life feel monotonous yet cyclical.  Adam felt he could just relax and let the flow of his routine carry him without any effort on his part.  It was just easier to let go.  What did he really need to do, if everything at work was unknown to him?

Adam was shocked out of his stupor by the face of Velim, who sat across the table from him when he removed his Lightcap at the end of the day.  No one else was in the room besides the two of them. 

She smiled and said, “Hello, Adam.”

“Hello,” Adam said.  “What am I doing here?  Where is everyone?”  He motioned to the empty chairs.

“Well, there are a few things we need to discuss,” Velim said, her hands clasped in front of her, all business.  “But first, I have a question for you: did you go somewhere early Saturday morning?”

Adam took a deep breath, then another.  He wasn’t sure how much Velim knew about his activities, but the fact she was asking meant she knew something.  He needed to tread carefully, because if he told her a provable lie things could become very complicated.  “No, I didn’t go anywhere, but I did leave the house.”  He hoped this half-truth would be enough for her, but her raised eyebrows and expectant eyes prompted Adam to continue.  “I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk.  I left some of my things at the house, and I got lost.”  He paused.  “I don’t mean any disrespect, but none of this is your business.  Why are you asking me these questions?”

Velim looked amused.  “Adam, you don’t understand. 
You
are our business.  Well, your mental health is, anyway.  We’re asking these questions because we have a vested interest in the function and utility of the Lightcap product, the security of the v6 code, and your ability to lead the project.  Is there anything you think we should know?  Have you noticed any odd thought patterns lately?  Hallucinations?  Have you
remembered
anything?”  She delivered her last question with an accusatory tone, or so it seemed to Adam. 
You’re just being paranoid
, he told himself.

“No to all,” he said with an exasperated sigh.  “I’m done answering these questions.  It bothers me that you would insinuate I am somehow causing issues with the project after giving me nothing but glowing reviews and feedback up to this point.  If what I was dealing with was any of your business, or involved your caps and domes, I’d tell you.  I’m leaving now, unless you have any more questions.”

“Make sure you do tell us,” Velim said calmly.  May I remind you that part of your contract states you must tell us immediately if you believe the Lightcap is causing any issues.  I have a vid meeting with LaMont from his office at Metra Corp.  You’re dismissed.” 

Velim turned her attention to her notetab, no doubt entering notes about her conversation with Adam.  As he got up from the table, the video screen started to materialize against the white of the wall.  He left quickly, not wanting to see or talk to LaMont, still annoyed from when the CEO had threatened him at the end of the week before.

Adam made his way down to the ground level.  As he exited the building, its giant door trailing behind him as if pushing him out, he saw Aria standing about twenty feet to his right, pressed against the side of the building.  She saw him at the same time, then summoned him with a small jerk of her head.  As he walked up to her, she started to turn and said, “Let’s walk.  We should probably get away from here.”  They threaded through the rush-hour crowd, becoming part of the throng of people walking down the street.  Several blocks away from Adaptech, Aria whispered, “What was that about?  Velim making you stay after, I mean.”

“I have no idea,” Adam said, annoyed.  “She asked me if I left my house early Saturday morning, which I did, so I admitted to it.  She already knew the answer.  I think it was a test to see if I’d be honest with her.  Then she asked me if I had noticed any odd thoughts, or if I’ve been seeing things.”  They walked on in silence for a few paces.  “She also wanted to know if I’ve remembered anything,” Adam said, wondering if he should tell Aria about his strange dreams or excursion to Damen’s apartment in this middle of the night.

“Well, have you?  Been seeing things or hearing voices or remembering stuff, I mean?”  Aria looked concerned, as if she had wondered the same thing about him.

“Damn it, no,” Adam said.  “Have I been acting strange lately?  I don’t feel any different.”  He tried not to take his frustration with Velim out on Aria.  Aria was next to him.  Velim was not.

“No.  Sorry,” Aria replied.  “Just asking.  I’m worried about all of us.  For a project that’s supposed to be stress-free, I feel pretty on edge.  You seem to be going through something similar.”  Her concerned look remained, but Adam understood it now.  She wasn’t just concerned for him but for herself.  Probably for Dej too.  She changed the subject.  “I can probably guess the answer, but have you found out anything about Damen?”  They continued walking as Adam formed his answer carefully.

“No.  Not on the mesh, and there hasn’t been any public activity on Damen’s dome since last week.”  He stopped short of telling her he had gone to his house.  “I’m not sure what that means.”  They walked on, oblivious to the crowds of commuters around them.

“Adam, can I trust you?”  Aria asked.  Her question caught him off guard with its urgency, as if she were bursting with a secret.  He nodded in agreement.  She continued.  “I went to Damen’s house last night, after it got dark.”

“You
what
?”  Adam exclaimed, his eyes bulging.  “I said I’d look into it.  I can’t have you going off and doing things that could get you—and the rest of us by extension—in trouble.”  His expression softened, and he chuckled, “Now that we got that out of the way, what did you find?”  He did not mention he had been there the night before.

“Nothing,” Aria said in helpless frustration.  “Absolutely nothing.  The back window was broken, so someone else may have been there before me.  I spent four hours scouring the place from top to bottom, until I heard footsteps on the ceiling above.  The upstairs neighbor must get up early for work.”

Adam thought about how best to phrase what he wanted to ask Aria, but he knew he would have to give it away to get what he wanted—it was all or nothing.  He sighed and asked, “Did you see the toothbrush or the letters on the windowsill?”  Aria looked at him with suspicion and accusation on her face, or so Adam thought.  He answered her next question before she had a chance to ask it by saying, “Yes.  I was there.  I’m the one who broke the window.”

Aria gave him a look she had never given him before, of either respect or incredulity.  Her next words erased his doubts about her intent: “Smart
and
you have balls.  I’m surprised.  Don’t take this the wrong way, but Dej and I had you pegged for a company man at first.  I mean, I’ve known you long enough now, but not well, you know?  And with this being your first time in a manager gig—I just figured you’d be all gung ho to prove yourself to the suits.  But I saw your face the day Damen disappeared.  Dej and I talked about it, and decided you were an honest guy.  We were already going to talk to you about Damen, but when you showed up at Glass several shades lighter after talking to LaMont, that sealed it up.  What did he say to you, anyway?”

Adam took a minute to decide he was going to tell her the truth.  Given what he had already admitted to her, he knew he would be in considerable trouble if she planned to turn him in to Adaptech.  He also admired her for the things she had been through, things that would have broken most people, and that clouded his judgment a little.  He decided he didn’t have much to lose at this point.  “He threatened to fire me.  Well, he actually said he’d end me, and I’d be done.  I’m pretty sure he was serious.  Don’t plan on finding out, even though he was probably just blowing smoke or having a bad day.  LaMont doesn’t really matter.  I’ve only had to interact with him a handful of times in over a decade.  What I’m really interested in is what you found in Damen’s apartment.  Didn’t find, whatever.  I was only there for maybe half an hour.  Also, you didn’t answer my question: did you see the toothbrush or the letters under the windowsill?  There also should have been broken glass from the back window in the kitchen.”

Aria shook her head.  “No, I didn’t.  Now you have me wondering.  I was thorough, and there wasn’t any broken glass.  I had nightview glasses with me, and I was wearing heavy boots.  I would’ve seen it or heard it cracking when I walked.  I checked all the windowsills too.  As far as I could tell, the place had been scrubbed.  What were the letters under the windowsill?”

Adam and Aria discussed the mystery as they moved on the sidewalk, as if products on an assembly line of pedestrian momentum, their warm breath visible in small puffs that disappeared into the chill air.  Adam enjoyed being able to talk to someone about the situation, even if he couldn’t shake the feeling there might be some penalty for it down the road.  After they had walked for what seemed like a hundred blocks, they reached Aria’s apartment, in a dingy building with rusted siding in a forgotten part of town—one of the neighborhoods where even the Blues seldom ventured.  Adam remarked to himself that Aria was most likely the wealthiest person on her block, even as one of the lowest-paid people on his team.  Her modest home was certainly a step up from the dumpsters and stairwells she had slept in when she lived on the streets.  He tried to picture Aria steering clear of Blues and regular citizens, most of whom would kick and spit on a beggar before giving her any credits or food. 

Not that Adam could see Aria as a beggar; she didn’t seem the sort.  Aria was too proud, too resourceful for begging, he felt.  At the moment, he was impressed by the thick steel of her front door, along with the barred windows protecting an immaculate if understated interior.  She guessed his thoughts.  “Hey, you didn’t exactly rescue me from poverty,” she said.  “I did that myself.  There’s a reason I live here.  The rent is cheap and I’m out of the way of nosy neighbors and bored Blues.  You have any idea what it’s like living in a posh burb as a woman of color?  Plus, I get to spend money on stuff like this.”  Aria opened a closet door, then pounded its inner wall with a closed fist in a triangular pattern.  This caused the wall to break its invisible seal and move back softly on hidden hinges to reveal a surprisingly large secret room. 

Dej, inside the room, turned to smile at them.  “Hey, guys.”  He looked at Aria, pointed at his dome, and said, “Thanks for letting me know you were bringing a guest.”

“No problem,” Aria replied.  “Did you get the transcript of our conversation?”  She walked over and sat next to Dej on a swivel chair, then turned to look at Adam, as if to say she knew he wanted to demand an explanation, but would have to wait another minute before doing so.

“I did, thanks.”

“Maybe you should answer Adam’s question,” Aria smirked at Dej, as she tilted her head in Adam’s direction.  “He’s probably wondering why I’d broadcast our conversation over the mesh, through Adaptech’s servers.”  Adam nodded, feeling faint.

Dej smiled broadly, his teeth nearly blinding Adam, contrasting sharply with the dim light in the room.  “So, I’ve made a few modifications to our domes.  I’ve written code to enable device-to-device transmission.  There’s a pulse wave sent out over mesh-enabled devices, like radar, as a way of seeing what devices are within range and measure the shortest amount of hops to the destination.  I found a way to use that protocol to deliver targeted messages, text only, very low bandwidth, to a specific dome.  If I install the software on your device, you’ll be able to send and receive messages.  Matches to your neural pattern, too, so if someone steals your device they won’t be able to access the hidden program.  Best part is that it uses the pulse wave to map the shortest path from device to device and leaves no trace on the nodes used for transmission.”