Persistence of Vision

  Chapter 9: The Team

  After eating, Marcus led Maggie out of the room. The corridors were dark, and lights turned on and then off again as they passed.

  “Why not just leave the lights on during the day?” Maggie asked, thinking of censor lights in her time that turned on with motion and didn’t turn off unless several minutes passed without movement.

  “To conserve energy. This place takes a lot of power to run.”

  “But how do they work?”

  “Like a lot of the basic needs of living, the lights in this place are always ready to work. Everything is in place for a complete circuit. I’m the one turning it on and off.”

  “How?”

  “With my thoughts. I complete the circuit in any area we’re in, so we can see where we’re going. When we’ve passed, I turn it off.”

  “But…you can do that just by thinking about it?”

  “So can you.”

  Maggie shook her head. “Maybe I could before, but that’s something I’ll have to relearn.”

  “You already did it once, Maggie.”

  “No I didn’t.”

  Marcus smiled over at her. “You just don’t realize you did.”

  “When?”

  “In the facilities this morning. I heard the water running in the sink.”

  “I just put my hands under the facet. Isn’t it on a censor?”

  “No. Not in the way you’re thinking. We don’t build handles and knobs anymore, because we can use our minds to do things. If water came out, it’s because you told it to.”

  “You make it sound like I commanded it or something. All I did was put my hands under the tap and hope for water.”

  “That’s often good enough. Maybe just by being here your brain is remembering things. Not your memories themselves but some sort of cellular memory.”

  Maggie was skeptical. “But if I don’t know what I’m doing, if I’m not concentrating, how can it just…work for me?”

  “The answer is partially in this facility. We’ve discovered that when unintelligent objects are manipulated by humans for a time, they become more docile, more pliable. If someone tries to manipulate an object that is, say, out in the forest and has never been worked on by a human, the object puts forth resistance.”

  “What kind of resistance?”

  “It’s hard to describe unless you’ve tried it yourself, but you can feel the molecules pushing against your influence. Not that it can’t be done, especially by someone experienced in manipulating unintelligent matter, but it’s harder.

  “The point is that we’ve all lived and worked here for years now. Where other objects might require a lot of concentration, this facility is very malleable to our wishes, so simply wishing for something is enough to bring it forth.”

  Maggie sighed. “If you say so.”

  “Here we are.”

  Marcus led her through a maze of hallways and intersections. After five minutes she was completely lost. They moved steadily up an incline and came to a long, straight corridor. At the end, which she sensed might be the highest point in the facility, was a double doorway, though with no doors, just like all the other rooms.

  “This is the team’s command center,” Marcus said, leading her through the doorway.

  Just as before, it seemed dark from the corridor, but once she stepped through, the room was well lit.

  It was as big as the entire main floor of her home. Consoles lined the perimeter, complete with chairs pushed up to them, but like the other equipment she’d seen, they were dead machines. The surfaces looked like solid metal with no colors, buttons, or anything to evidence a working machine.

  There were a few notable exceptions. Three chairs were occupied: two on the far side of the room and one ten feet from the door she and Marcus had just come through. Where there were people sitting, the consoles were alive with lights and designs.

  In the center of the room, two large tables had been pushed together to make an enormous one. It was piled with maps, books, and documents she couldn’t identify.

  When they entered, the people in the room turned toward them, and Maggie was immediately uncomfortable. When each of them saw her, they broke into broad smiles, said her name, and got up from their chairs. Obviously they knew her, but other than Karl and Doc, none of them looked familiar to her.

  Marcus stepped up beside her. “Yes, everyone. Maggie is here. She’s going to need everyone’s help filling in details, but try not to overwhelm her. I think I’ve already done an excellent job of that.”

  He smiled down at her, and she smiled back but didn’t bother denying it. What was the point?

  “Let’s start with introductions. You remember Doc and Karl from last night.”

  Maggie nodded at each of them.

  “How are you feeling today, Maggie?” Doc crossed the room and took her hand.

  “Still a bit confused, I’m afraid, but that’s all.”

  “No headaches? Nausea? Nightmares?”

  “…No.”

  Doc cocked an eyebrow at her hesitation. “If you have any trouble sleeping, let me know.”

  Maggie nodded.

  “Good to see you again, Maggie.” Karl’s grin was like a bear’s—so huge it was a little scary. He was all teeth.

  Marcus directed her toward the person who’d been sitting at the console a few feet from the door. He was standing now, staring at her intently. He had light-brown hair and a slightly freckled complexion. Maggie’s first impression was that he was way too thin, like a musician. His hair was slightly rockstar-ish too, but his eyes had depth, and his smile was beautiful.

  “Maggie, this is Clay.”

  Maggie stepped forward and took his outstretched hand. “Concealer?”

  He smiled. “That’s right.”

  His voice was soft; he was either very shy, very soft spoken, or both.

  Clay said nothing else, and Marcus steered Maggie around the center table to where the other two had been sitting at their consoles.

  One was a dark-haired woman in her late thirties. The wrinkles adorning the crannies of her face and the circles under her eyes relegated her to handsomeness, but as a younger woman, she must have been quite stunning. Her dark hair was bobbed and framed a full face, and her eyes were kind.

  “Maggie, this is Joan.”

  Joan’s smile was warm as she took Maggie’s hand. “It’s so good to see you again, Maggie.” Joan glanced from side to side. “It’s good to have some relief from all the testosterone around here.”

  The men all chuckled.

  “And finally, this is Dillon.”

  Maggie shook his hand but was confused. She’d not heard his name before. “And what do you do?”

  It was Marcus that answered. “Oh, he’s not named in the prophecy, but there are many here who aren’t. Just because they don’t have a direct role doesn’t mean they don’t believe in what we’re doing. They volunteer their time and skills for our cause.”

  “And believe me,” Doc chimed in, “we’re grateful for it.”

  Dillon couldn’t be much older than Maggie herself, but his hairline had receded enough to make him look quite bald in front. His bulk gave him extra skin around his eyes and mouth, making him look perpetually tired.

  “I am a security advisor, Maggie. I helped build Interchron, so I know its ins and outs and secret passages. We have a large security force, and I’m its leader.”

  Maggie nodded. “Nice to meet you.” She turned, letting her gaze light on each of them. “Nice to meet you all. Again.”

  They all chuckled or smiled and bobbed their heads at her.

  “Actually,” Dillon said, “I’m glad you’re here, Marcus. There’s a matter on the lower level that needs your attention.”

  Marcus turned to Joan. “What are you working on?”

  “Nothing pressing.”

  “If I go with Dillon, can you show Maggie around a bit? Try to re-familiarize her with everything?”

  “Of c
ourse.”

  “Take her down to meet some of the families. Talking with them will help her get a feel for the place. Tell her as many details of what happened before as you can remember. That goes for everyone.” His gaze swept around the room. “In lieu of a memory, we need to give Maggie as rounded a picture of what happened as possible. Remember she’s starting from scratch. She doesn’t know our technology or how things work, so be patient and answer her questions.”

  Everyone nodded as he spoke. Marcus turned to her and lowered his voice so only she could hear. “Will you be okay without me for a while?”

  Maggie hoped her smile was confident. “Sure.”

  Marcus smiled back, laugh crinkles forming around his hazel eyes as he did, before turning to Dillon. “Lead the way.”

  “I’ll take you around the whole facility,” Joan said, “but would you like a quick tour of the command center first?”

  Maggie shrugged. “Sure.”

  “We all know how to do everything, but we each have our specialties. The station I’m at has censors that focus on the collectives and their activities. We usually call this the specs station because we can hone in on a specific place or hive and monitor their movements and activities.”

  Joan turned in her chair and motioned to where Clay was sitting. “Clay is monitoring NetworkInfo. We have several different networks of spies. They are all individuals, many with families living here in the compound. We’ve been unable to infiltrate the collectives, but we watch them closely and monitor their communications with each other.”

  Standing, Joan moved over to the area Dillon had been at. At some point his console had gone dead and Maggie hadn’t noticed, but as Joan sat and put her hands on the smooth, metallic surface, it came to life again, showing what looked like an interactive blueprint.

  “This shows us Interchron. From here we can monitor any part of the compound. We can superimpose scans for different substances or chemicals to tell if certain areas are affected by them. We can also overlay infrared to see where people are at all times. Things like that.”

  “So you have to touch the consoles to turn them on?”

  Joan’s eyes grew wide. After a moment of awkward silence, she said, “You really are a greenie at this.”

  “That’s gotta suck.” It was Karl. He was probably trying to mumble, but his voice was so loud and deep that it carried clearly to her.

  She looked over at him, but he was pretending to ignore her.

  “Don’t mind him,” Joan said. “He’s got a weird sense of humor.”

  Maggie ignored the deep, indignant huff from behind her.

  “The expression sucks is still around?”

  She couldn’t help but notice everyone’s speech patterns. They were speaking English, and she could understand them perfectly, but their words had a different sound than she was used to, like they were dragging out the ends of their words or just forming them differently than she did. She supposed the evolution of speech was to be expected, but this was the first time she’d heard any of them use that expression.

  Joan laughed when she realized what Maggie was asking.

  “Actually, no. He learned that from you the last time you were here. You kept saying that, and no one knew what you meant. Finally you taught us, and Karl hasn’t stopped saying it since.”

  Smiling, Maggie looked over at Karl again.

  He grinned and saluted her with two fingers. “You single-handedly preserved that figure of speech for posterity, Maggs.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes, noting how natural it felt to have him call her that. “Yeah, that’s what I want to be known for.”

  He shrugged. “Hey, everyone’s got to be known for something. You can’t pick and choose.”

  Joan laughed. Over against the opposite wall, Clay was working quietly, but Maggie could see that he too was grinning. Suddenly Maggie had a very real, disconcerting sense of being home.