“Are you ready?” Berkeley asked, the hint of a smile on her lips.
Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded once. On the other side of the door was my identity somewhere in the distance. My knees trembled in anticipation.
“Let’s just walk one step at a time and not look back.” She slipped a hand into mine. “Everything we need is right in front of our faces.”
The rain fell harder as we moved through the door and into the night. The door slammed, and darkness consumed us. The night was cool, and the rain here smelled of feces and garbage. Through the high fence to our left, the refugees’ shantytown stretched almost to the horizon in both directions. Tens of thousands of dirty, misshapen faces looked out at me. I forced myself to look away, not from pity but from embarrassment. Some of them screamed and rushed toward the fences. I looked at Berkeley, only to find her kneeling on the ground and digging in her backpack.
“What are you doing?” I watched the people pushing forward against their fences. It was only a matter of time before they came after us. A man on the other side of the fence bared his teeth at me in a feral smile. We were going to die ten steps from civilization.
And then Berkeley removed a large black pistol from her backpack. The crowd shrank away from us. The man disappeared into the throng around him.
“Walk as fast as you can,” Berkeley said.
“I can walk faster—”
“No, you can’t. Just get going.”
The opulence of California and the starkness of the frontier made no sense to me. One side of the gigantic wall was a sprawling megacity and the other a ghetto. My stomach churned in anger. People accepted their fates instead of teaching their children to dream—children like the small, pale faces I’d seen through the fences. Haunted eyes that knew no happiness, like the eyes of the children following the tank in my dream, stared at me. Their plight—endlessly camping out while they waited for their numbers to be called and to be found worthy of entering the Promised Land—was all my fault. Blood rushed to my cheeks, and shameful tears mixed with the rain on my face. These were my people!
“We’ll be okay in about a mile, beyond the lights and the edge of town.” Berkeley looked over her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Everything was wrong.
A deep voice rumbled in the dark behind us. “Sleeper.”
We turned toward the voice, but the speaker’s face was blurred in the dim light away from the walls of California.
“Crazy buggers. Nobody sane ever leaves Cali,” another voice said.
I felt them watching me as I walked into the darkness toward Monument Valley, turning my back on them like everyone on the other side of that wall. Past the edge of the fencing, the shantytown pressed against the edge of the old highway. The people were close enough to make me wonder about our safety, but no one moved toward us. Maybe they were afraid of Berkeley’s weapon or shocked that a sleeper would walk out of the Promised Land without looking back. I lowered my head and marched, expecting danger, but there was none.
<<I am broadcasting on all frequencies that both of you are armed and dangerous.>>
Is that supposed to help us?
<<Until you get into the wilderness, yes. After that, I will change to defensive monitoring.>>
Did you know Berkeley had a weapon?
<<That is the central portion of a parabolic microphone, but it does make a convincing pistol to the untrained eye.>>
Shit. I lowered my chin and kept walking. My cheeks burned. Some soldier I was.
The rain picked up and soaked us, but we didn’t stop for shelter. I wanted to be clean again. Clean of this world. Clean of the smell of failure all around me. Maybe I should’ve stayed in Australia.
Maybe I should have stayed dead.
As we walked in the utter darkness, my enhanced sight enabled me to see the pitted remains of Highway 89 rising north of what had once been Flagstaff. Humphreys Peak rose into the clouds to my left, and the formations of Sunset Crater lay to the east. I wished I didn’t know how different this new world was from the one I could remember in fragments and strips. This tattered vision of hell was not where I’d grown up. Where I’d lived, and what I’d died for, appeared to have died with me three hundred years ago.
Outside of California, the darkness blanketed us. Clouds blocked most of the stars, and a last quarter moon hung low over the western horizon. A few lights appeared to the east as we topped a small ridge. The small settlement in the dark horizon gave me hope that good people were out here in the badlands, scratching out a good life, and that lawlessness did not reign supreme. The lights faded just as quickly as they’d appeared. We’d not said a word in an hour of marching steadily through the cold, misting rain.
Mally chimed to life. <<You want to continue on a northerly course. The radiation levels in the terrain to the east will eventually become dangerous and potentially lethal.>>
“Where are you wanting to go?” Berkeley asked.
“We should go north. That’s what my guidance protocol says. Radiation warnings to the east.”
The same high-desert scrub brush and sage stretched to the dim horizon. “There’s nothing wrong with this area, Sleepy. We’re not going to walk a hundred miles tonight.”
I was inclined to agree.
<<While you possess greatly enhanced sight, including limited infrared-spectrum visibility, you are not capable of sensing radiation. Much of the terrain to the east is irradiated. Heading north is the only option you have. There are several places to cross the Continental Divide, and there is fresh water available.>>
“We could go south,” Berkeley said.
<<You would be unable to cross the Mexican border. Your best course of action is to head slightly north and then due east until you reach the Mississippi River. From there, you can enter Tennessee through the port at Memphis.>>
“My protocol says going south isn’t an option.” I pointed up the old roadbed. “Let’s go that way.” We stepped off and fell into a good pace, walking at a speed of six kilometers per hour despite the light dusting of snow on the ground. Berkeley matched me step for step. I wondered if she was enhanced until her panting became fast and harsh from straining to match my pace. I slowed down enough that she could catch her breath. We’d start really climbing in a few days, and she would need the oxygen. If we could have gone across New Mexico, or the area where that state had been, our trip would have been so much easier. I felt cheated. Somehow the terrain of New Mexico called to me though I was unable to scrounge up much about it from my memory.
I asked Mally, We can’t go anywhere through New Mexico? What happened?
Mally responded after a second or two, the way she did when she was reporting on my condition. <<There was a large government research complex just north of the city of Albuquerque.>>
Los Alamos.
<<That’s correct. In 2054, an experiment in sustainable fusion eliminated the laboratory and roughly 90 percent of the population of Albuquerque. The resulting radiation threat created a fallout zone throughout western Texas. More than eight million people lost their lives.>>
Eight million dead in New Mexico and six million dead in Hawaii? The whole coast of California sliding into the sea? Did everything just go crazy after I died? I thought about that for a moment and realized that it had all started before I died. Allan had been right about the pursuit of fame and fortune. Mally, I spent all of two days in California—well, Arizona. Do they still make movies there?
<<Yes. California is the entertainment capital of the solar system.>>
That figured. I bet the movie stars are making billions for every movie by now.
<<No. Entertainment professionals are normal citizens. Their contributions to the well-being of society bring no salary, only what is known as a Class Two existence.
They are allowed only a prescribed number of luxuries. Entertainment professionals are held to an exceptionally high moral standard. Any transgression, and they report immediately to the cubes.>>
They don’t make millions of dollars?
<<No one receives any type of currency for entertainment pursuits. Only minimal currency is ever used in transfer between account holders for goods and services. You were exposed to the system regularly in Esperance. Didn’t you wonder how customers paid Allan Wright for beers and tacos? Or how you paid for your gear for this excursion?>>
No. Doctor Garrett told me I wouldn’t need it. I hadn’t even seen currency of any type in use. The world moved on. That was from a book, wasn’t it?
<<There are many possible references, though it is most prevalent in the works of a contemporary author from your time named Stephen King.>>
Another connection made. Make sure I have his library, Mally.
I glanced up into the clearing sky. Orion’s belt caught my eye for a long moment. I’d seen the Orion Nebula through a telescope as a kid. Was all of New Mexico destroyed?
<<No. Much of the southern part of the state now belongs to the Republic of Texas and has a population of 112 million.>>
What? That’s almost a third of the population of the United States when I was growing up.
<<Not all of them are fully functioning.>>
What the hell does that mean? Am I fully functioning? I removed a water bottle from my newly stuffed pack. Our shopping in Flagstaff had yielded plenty of clothing and supplies enough for the trip. With all that as well as the tent I carried, we weren’t expecting issues with our gear, and the weight of the backpack hardly bothered me.
“Everything all right?” Berkeley huffed.
I decided to slow down a little more. “Yeah.” I drank deeply from the bottle. The water was cold enough to make my eyes water as I swallowed.
“You’re awfully quiet.”
I sighed. “It’s the middle of the night. There’s not a lot to see out here.”
“You could ask questions.”
I put the bottle away. “When I think of some, I will ask you. Been catching up on history with my protocol. Lots of things have happened.”
Berkeley chuckled. “Get a good history lesson, then. I bet we can get fifteen miles in before sunrise.” She turned away and put her head down. Her pace quickened as we marched to the north and east.
Mally began to talk again a few minutes later. <<You asked about fully functioning. Let me explain. Virtual reality became mainstream in 2027, when it became possible for a human being to fully participate at the sensory level in a virtual environment. The initial reaction to the development was one of mild excitement until more and more people realized that they could quite literally live for days at a time in a virtual environment in any form they wished for. Within a ten-year period, it became possible for humans to disappear into this virtual existence. A company known as Cubetech built sensory units that sustained human beings based on their virtual existence, meaning that rather than having a virtual playground without any type of responsibility, those humans in the Cubes would actually work while experiencing the virtual world. Plugged into the system, fed intravenously, and living the life of their dreams without having to lift a finger called to millions of people. Very quickly, Cubetech facilities sprang up on all seven continents and the moon.
<<Cubers, as they became known, were soon running the complex computer actions of power grids, satellite communications systems, and financial markets. For a period in 2115, legislation had to be enacted to keep the population outside of the Cubes at a level capable of sustaining life worldwide. At that point, it became standard policy that Cubers would spend no more than five years virtual for every six months outside. Many Cubers cannot take more than six months outside of the virtual world.>>
So, everyone I’ve met was a Cuber at one time or another?
<<No. Surprisingly, most people in this modern time do not go into the Cubes by choice. Most Cubers now are those who are not selected for civil or military service.>>
So, civil service ranks higher than the military? As always when I was right, Mally didn’t respond. Why the change of heart by the people? Why not continue to have high levels of people plugged into the virtual world?
<<On the fifteenth of May, 2132, a massive hacking operation known only as Ragnarok brought down the virtual net instantly. The Cube system software terminated all services, and approximately one billion two hundred million people died in their cubes. The resulting legislation and more than five years of rebuilding put increased limits on the virtual world, and humanity has not recovered from the negative stigma.>>
I watched the stars above the high plains. Winter would be along soon, and I wouldn’t have much time to find what I was looking for. I flipped up my collar against the chilling breeze. A small snowflake swept past my face. The answers would come, but I had to keep moving to find them. Being a soldier was only part of the equation, though it was hard to relate that to finding my way. Another snowflake, this one larger and defined against the skyline, streaked across my vision.
“It’s snowing,” I called to Berkeley’s back a few feet in front of me.
“Hello, back there. You finished conversing with your guidance protocol enough to talk to me?”
“I wasn’t—”
She spun around and smiled. “It’s all right. Boy or girl?”
“What?”
“Your guidance protocol. Is it male or female?”
“Female.” I blushed and wondered what it was about Berkeley that made my stomach flutter when she looked at me. “Her name is Mally. At least, that’s what I named her.”
“Then that’s her name. At least now I know who I’m competing with for your attention.” Laughing, she faced the open roadway and kept walking. “We’ll need to find shelter soon.”
I caught up to her. She smiled, and I returned it. “How soon?”
“An hour or so,” she said. “When the snow really starts coming down, we’ll set up the tent and get into our sleeping bags.”
Sounded good to me.
For the second time, she took my hand and squeezed it. “You sure you don’t want to turn back? We could be surfing at Sunset Beach by sundown.”
Behind us, billowing grey clouds spread out across the high desert plain of what had been southern Utah. Ahead were the Rocky Mountains and a thousand miles of unknown territory. I squeezed her hand. “When we’re done here, I’ll take you up on that.”
“Tennessee or bust?”
“Something like that.” Looking out at the horizon full of higher terrain and wide, flat mesas, I said, “Reminds me of a John Wayne movie.”
Berkeley cocked her head to one side and smirked. “I guess that’s a good memory, right?”
“You’ve never heard of John Wayne?”
“Vaguely.” She smiled, making my heart skip. “Tell me about him.”
Sucking in a breath of cold morning air, I laughed. “You got the whole of my knowledge. I just get names or concepts most of the time.” To my surprise, I caught another scrap of memory. “I know he was a movie star, what you call an entertainment professional, and everyone in the world knew who he was.”
“Maybe I should learn more about him.” She closed her eyes for a long second. I wondered if I looked like that when I accessed Mally.
<<From a physical perspective, yes.>> Mally paused for several seconds. <<There is something that you should know. She is using an impressive amount of bandwidth from her neural connections. Given that we are in an area mostly out of regular communications, protocols are often equipped with hardware enabling a satellite-communications connection. Most of those are at a very low bandwidth.>>
Maybe she just has something new.
<<Unknow
n. She bears watching. One possible reason for her bandwidth could be video-signal relay. That is against the law. You must understand that I do not fully trust her.>>
You could have told me sooner.
<<You were excited about the journey. I did not want to discount your enthusiasm. My job is to keep you safe and be your companion.>>
Smiling into the rising sun, I thought, Thank you, Mally. I’m glad I have you to keep me safe.
The snow came in earnest about an hour later. Low grey clouds hung down in all directions like the arms of an octopus, the telltale sign of precipitation falling but not reaching the ground. Virga. That a term like that would sift through my brain, and my name would not, amazed me. What I didn’t know confounded me. Weather was familiar territory, but I found very little information about me. Maybe I’d been a pilot or something besides a soldier in a tank. I shook the thought away. We’d been walking all night and logged almost thirty miles before deciding to seek shelter. Enhanced body or not, I was tired. As soon as we stopped, I yawned while I stretched my sore back.
Berkeley dropped her pack in a wide, sandy spot and unrolled the tent. With the press of a button, the domed tent erected itself in a matter of seconds. “Should be big enough for us to not bump into each other.”
She was right. Setting our gear inside, we unrolled sleeping bags and ate a quick breakfast of granola and water before lying down. The storm darkened the sky enough that, with closed eyes, sleep should have come almost immediately, but it didn’t. Berkeley started snoring in a couple of minutes. The sound of it made me chuckle, but I said nothing,
Mally was there and ready to talk, but I lay quietly, eyes closed, waiting for the memories to surface. Thinking about the slow march of the snowstorm, a memory came, and I shut out all else, never wanting it to end.