“Why you, Jay?” Constantine said.
“Why me sent here by DIANA, or why me resurrected by 113 Berliner Sibelius?”
“Both.”
“I already told you: Spearman’s coefficient of Rank Correlation. Someone did a personality match and found that of all the people available to DIANA I would be the most compatible with you. I guess 113 Berliner Sibelius resurrected me for the same reason.”
“Uh,” grunted Constantine, “I get the impression there’s more to it than that…” His voice tailed away. The room was dim, lit by the bright moon and stars shining from outside. Jay’s face was half in shadow. She had stopped rocking back and forth. She still shivered. Constantine wondered if he should fetch one of the thick white bathrobes from the bathroom. Or would that be just what they wanted? Would helping her be his first steps down the path that led to trusting her?
– It makes no difference what you do. Trust her if you like. I won’t allow you to say anything.
Grey’s words were a chilling whisper.
That made up Constantine’s mind. He rose to his feet, fetched the robe, and threw it to her. She began to pull it on gratefully.
“How did DIANA find out I was in here, anyway?” he asked.
“Routine scans. This computer, the one holding the simulation, is shielded against most attacks, but people don’t always keep quiet once they’ve left work. The comm lines are buzzing with talk about you. DIANA submitted transcripts of conversations to the courts as proof of your existence. Unsuccessfully, though. Their request for a warrant of disclosure was denied, but don’t let that comfort you. They’re trying everything in their power to get a picture of what’s stored in this computer’s memory. A snapshot of your personality construct: proof that you’re here. As soon as they get it, they’ll have you wiped. And as soon as you’re gone, that’s it for me, too.”
– And Marion and Mary, pointed out Red.-No point keeping the simulation going once you’re destroyed.
Constantine nodded. “What is 113 Berliner Sibelius offering you if you help them?”
Jay flinched. She was obviously frightened, but she was angry, too. It was building inside her. Her reply was a hoarse whisper.
“What is 113 Berliner Sibelius offering me?” she asked. “What are they offering me? I get to live. For as long as you want me, of course.”
She stared at him, eyes wide, as she spoke. Constantine said nothing in reply.
Jay glared at him. “Well? Say something. I live or die at your word. My whole existence in this place is down to keeping you happy. How do you think that makes me feel? And you ask what 113 Berliner Sibelius is offering me?”
Constantine shook his head. It really hadn’t occurred to him to see things from Jay’s point of view. He had been too busy feeling sorry for himself.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Jay waved a hand at him and stared down at the floor. She shuddered.
“Ah, why am I blaming you? You didn’t choose to come in here. I did.”
Silence descended. Jay shook her head gently. Constantine wondered if she was crying.
– It could all be a trick, of course, said Red.
– Shut up, Red, Blue said.
– I don’t think it’s a trick, said White.-Something’s happening. This room is not maintaining its integrity. I see it when we move around. Parallax. Things aren’t quite where they should be. Something is draining system resources.
– So what’s the point of saying anything? Blue asked.-As soon as DIANA gets proof that we’re in here, we’ll be wiped anyway.
Constantine nodded. The idea had already occurred to him. He opened his mouth to say something, but White interrupted.
– Something big has just happened. Get ready to move.
Constantine opened his mouth to ask what, then he saw it for himself. For a moment the room flattened, became two dimensional. Jay became a picture, pasted to the wall. The bed, the writing desk, the view from the windows, were all just a flatscreen picture.
Jay was moving, standing up, the robe slipping to the floor.
“What was that?” she asked.
Normality began to reassert itself. Her body separated from the wall. Looking down, Constantine saw his feet, regained his illusion of depth.
“I don’t know…”
Marion and Mary were in the room; the balcony window had been pushed open.
“Quickly,” called Marion, “this way.”
They brushed briskly past, heading for the door that led to the bathroom. Barely two days ago Constantine had showered there and attempted to rid himself of a headache. Now he was running for his virtual life.
“DIANA almost got a handle on you there,” explained Mary. “We had to relocate this room within the simulation.”
Constantine wanted her to explain more, but Marion had pushed open the door to the bathroom and he saw what she meant.
Through the door he could see another place. He saw the dark emptiness of a field, the night sky pressing down from above. They were looking out across the first level of Stonebreak. At the edge of the horizon was visible the first pale line of the approaching dawn.
Constantine wondered if he would live to see it.
Now they were making their way through the farmlands of the first level, wading through muddy fields, stumbling into ditches, pushing their way through hedges. Behind them rose the dark mass of the city proper.
Mary was gasping for breath. “Too tired. Too tired. Stop…can’t keep it up.”
Constantine was tired too, his breath heaving. Marion was talking into her console.
“Okay,” she said. She called out to the group.
“Over here. They’ve prepared an area for us.”
– Why do we have to keep moving? complained Red.
“Keep us moving, stop us thinking,” gasped Constantine out loud. He wanted them to hear what he said. Let them know he was onto them.
“Not true,” said Marion. “Don’t you realize the danger we’re all in? Come on. This way…”
They ran into a cornfield: genetically modified corn, standing taller than they were. They pushed on through the damp plants, tangled strings of vegetable matter clinging to their faces and bodies. On and on, pushing and pushing, lost in a maze of stalks. Just when they thought it would never end, they emerged into a clearing. They all fell panting to the ground.
“Okay,” Marion gasped, “we should be as safe here as anywhere else.”
Jay was biting her lip. Trembling. Hesitantly, Constantine put his arm around her. Wordlessly, she pressed closer. It felt nice. Constantine felt guilty.
“What now?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” said Marion. She was looking at Jay thoughtfully. “We just wait and see.”
The sun was rising. The heads of the surrounding corn were silhouetted against it. So he had lived to see the dawn. Now would he make midday?
They sat on prickly stubble in a cleared area, corn tickling their legs and bottoms, damp broken stalks caught in their hair and clothes. Constantine was holding Jay; the others were almost touching. Huddling for safety. No one had spoken for some time. They all looked at each other. Wondering. What was happening outside? Marion was watching Jay like a hawk. Why Jay? Why was she in here?
Constantine tried to distract her. He asked Mary the question that had been bothering him since he had first discovered where he was.
“I never understood, why were you in the simulation?”
Mary looked up at him and shot him a tired smile.
“Trying to get you to look at things from another perspective. You look at Stonebreak and you see it in terms of money flowing in and money flowing out. I was trying to get you to see the human cost.”
“But why?”
Mary and Marion glanced at each other. Marion spoke first.
“Because we think you are on the wrong side. We want you to join us.”