Johnston was refolding his handkerchief. “We can’t go on any further by this route,” he said. “We’re now approaching the end point of the elevator; beyond here everything was constructed from perfectly functioning VNM stock. It had to be, otherwise it wouldn’t have held together.”
He gave a deep sigh and pushed the handkerchief back into his pocket. “Whew. I’m rather hungry. It’s amazing what conditioned responses can do to you. Anyway. We’re going to have to make a jump into the unknown. I’m guessing that the end of the elevator is not that far above us. It will probably be in geosynchronous orbit with the base. I’m hoping that a docking station was completed, possibly even using the same VNM that later seeded the planet below. There must be something there that could host us.”
“And if there isn’t?” asked Herb.
“Then we’ll never know about it. Our consciousness will just fade from here, and the Herb and Robert back home will never know what we have learned.”
“Oh.”
“Not to worry. I beamed our consciousnesses to other points in the Enemy Domain, too. There’s another pair of us in the Necropolis. One set should get back at least.”
Herb frowned. “It will still be like dying to us, though, surely?”
“Ah. Don’t worry about that. Are you ready?”
Herb gripped Johnston by the sleeve.
“Hang on. Let’s talk this over.”
“No time. Let’s go.”
They jumped…
eva 2: 2051
High above Eva, the lime leaves fluttered gently against the deep blue of the afternoon sky. Flickering pale green and yellow hearts formed a vaulted ceiling over the quiet cathedral-like space between the dark trunks. The air was rich with the smell of soil and summer rain; it insinuated its way into Eva’s body, filling her with its heady presence. She had kicked off her shoes to walk around the clearing, feeling the darkness of the earth between her toes. Eva, held apart from it for so long in the grey headache of South Street, was reconnecting with life.
A voice whispered: “Eva.”
She started and twisted around, trying to see who had spoken. The voice had sounded in her ear, but there was no one there. The space between the trees was a vessel filled with woodland silence, a silence that was now leaking away.
Eva could see Alison, Katie, and Nicolas approaching across the overgrown green lawn that lapped the treeline. They were obviously looking for her. Nicolas spotted Eva first and pointed her out to the others. The three came crashing into her retreat.
“Hello, Eva, I thought we’d find you here.” Alison was on a high, every word packed with a jangling, desperate energy. Katie gave a nervous twitch and quickly turned her head in the other direction. Nicolas stared at her breasts.
“Hello, Eva,” he said. “We’re going to sneak into Pontybodkyn. Are you coming?”
“I can’t. I’ve got a counseling session in an hour.” Eva was glad for the excuse not to go, but Alison wasn’t going to be deflected so easily.
“Skip it,” she said, too loudly, snapping her fingers dismissively. “No one will care. The staff will be pleased to get an extra half-hour’s break.”
“No. I want to go.”
Nicolas directed a knowing smile at her breasts.
“You’ve only been here two weeks, haven’t you? You’ll soon find out. Nobody really cares about counseling here. The staff only do it because it’s their job; we only go because it gives us someone to talk to.”
“Well, I’d like to talk to someone.”
“Come to Pontybodkyn and talk with us. At least we won’t be spending all afternoon trying to convince you there’s something wrong with you.”
Eva ran a hand through her grey hair, tucking it behind her ears. She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “There is something wrong with me. That’s why I’m here.”
“Ah,” said Alison, smiling slightly hysterically. “But where you’re going wrong is expecting them to make you better.” She gave an exaggerated sigh and spun around on her heels. The shafts of sunlight flickered over her body. “Oh, this is boring! Come on, Nicolas; come on, Katie. Leave her. We don’t want little miss goody two shoes spoiling our trip.”
“That’s not true…” began Nicolas.
“I said, come on.”
She skipped off across the clearing toward the belt of trees that screened the Center from the main road. Katie shuffled along behind her, head down, hands clasped tightly before her. Nicolas tore his gaze from Eva’s breasts long enough to give an apologetic smile and shrug, then turned and ran to catch up with Alison.
Eva watched them go, then resumed pacing on the soft leaf mold, gazing up at the cathedral roof of leaves. Silence drifted down the shafts of greenish light that filled the space within the trees and Eva began to relax again. Peace and calm and a chance to forget the outside world and to feel that it had forgotten her. Alison was wrong, thought Eva, who had never imagined they could make her better. She just liked having someone to talk to. She simply didn’t think that there was anything wrong with her that could be cured here at the Center.
“Eva. You can’t see me, but I’m here. I know you can hear me. I need to talk to you.”
Apart from the voices, of course. Maybe they could stop her hearing the voices.
Doctor Cevier’s office was large and bare. The high ceiling and wide floor space dwarfed his plastic desk. A few framed pictures and certificates were marooned on the cheerless orange walls. Two shaped plastic chairs sat by a low coffee table set with a tray holding two steaming cups from the vending machine. Five cakes were set out on a plate. Eva took one seat, Doctor Cevier the other. He was a well-built man in his early thirties, his thinning hair looking damp and smelling faintly of shower gel. Doctor Cevier always looked as if he had just left the gym. He tapped his ultra-slim executive model console to set it recording and then relaxed in his chair.
“Well, Eva. Two weeks now. How do you feel?”
“Tired.”
“That’s not surprising. How much sleep are you getting? In an average day, I mean.”
“I don’t know. Fifteen hours?”
Doctor Cevier tapped at his console.
“More like eighteen, according to this. Why do you think that is?”
“What is there to get up for?”
Doctor Cevier said nothing in reply. Instead he picked up one of the cups and took a sip.
“Mmm. Delicious. How do they manage it? Every cup tastes different. Aren’t you going to try some?”
Eva stared at the other cup and said nothing. Through the wide window she could see out across the ragged lawns to the circle of limes. Their leaves rippled and danced in the sunlight.
“I’m sorry?” Eva said.
“I didn’t say anything,” said Doctor Cevier. “Tell me, how are you settling in here? Do you feel comfortable?”
“I suppose so. When are you going to let me go?”
Doctor Cevier took another sip of his drink. “Wonderful. You really should try some. It will help you relax.”
“How? Is it drugged?”
Doctor Cevier laughed a little and tapped at his console again. Eva looked around the empty office. If this were her room, she thought, she would buy some rugs and hang them from the walls, arrange standard lamps and statues around the edge of the room and throw mats and carpets on the floor. Anything to break the dull monotony of the surroundings. Anything that would make the room look less like a waiting room and more like an office, even a bookcase, filled with cheap second-hand books. Doctor Cevier wasn’t speaking now; he gazed at Eva with a half amused expression. Eva ignored him. She looked across at the plastic desk and wondered if Doctor Cevier ever sat behind it. The few books and papers that lay on its surface were facing in her direction.
“Have you given any thought yet on how you got here?”