Four
Becky raised her hand. "I think I'm going to be
sick." She rose from her desk and ran from the room, gagging as she
went.
Marla's cruel laughter followed her.
Mr. Mangrove sighed. "If anyone else has a personal
matter to attend to, do it now."
Rick stood. "Gotta go to the john."
Rick expected Mort to follow, but Mort had his eye on
Marla and the opportunity to be alone with her. Rick stepped into the
hall in time to see Becky hurry into the nearest girl's room. She glanced
around to see if she had been followed. Rick smiled reassurance.
Briefly, warmly, she smiled back.
Rick locked himself in the first stall of the boy's
room and took out the cigarette stuck in his shirt pocket. Mort had given
it to him earlier in the day. Cigarettes were against the law, although
people still smoked in their own homes. He wasn't sure what he intended
to do with his.
The restroom door opened and closed. Footsteps
shuffled on the tile outside his stall.
Rick kicked the stall door open.
The pale gray eyes of the janitor stared back at
him. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
"Do I know you?" Rick said. It seemed that he did.
"I don't think we've met before," the janitor said.
The janitor continued to stare at him. Rick had to
say something. "Did you get your floor-washer fixed?"
"He wasn't broke. I was just getting his log." The
janitor held up a microchip and grinned. "Records for two years of
washing floors. Exciting material." He noticed the cigarette and
frowned. "You going to smoke that it here?"
"I don't think I'd get away with it."
"Hardly."
Rick chucked the unlit cigarette into the toilet. He
flushed and tried to slip past the janitor.
"You kids are having a rough time with this
evaluation thing. You can relax, though. Things will work out."
"I take it you've seen other groups come and go."
The janitor nodded. "Lots of them. It's no big
deal."
"Mangrove's got us spooked."
"You wouldn't be here if you couldn't be helped."
Rick didn't quite agree. "Mort's not going to
change. Neither is Marla."
"I'd agree that you could
use a better class of friends, kid."
"I like the friends I got."
"Selecting friends is a skill, like reading or
writing. You still have a few things to learn, it seems to me."
Rick wondered who the janitor thought he was talking
to him like one of the instructor-assistants. It didn't surprise him,
though. In the past, it hadn't taken much in the way of brains or
education to swing a mop. Now, janitors fixed the machines that mopped
the floors. They were technicians, and they were smart people.
"Mort and Marla aren't all bad," Rick said in
self-defense of the two.
"You're sensitive to their feelings," the janitor
said.
"Yeah? So?"
"They don't return the favor. They care only about
themselves."
"Yeah, well, I must have a
few problems of my own, or I wouldn't be here."
The janitor nodded. "What you think about
yourself put you here. What you think about yourself largely determines
the things that happen to you in life. Keep that in mind and you'll
breeze through this evaluation of yours."
Rick walked away wondering if the janitor was just
flapping his gums, or if he had inside information worth keeping in mind.
The man called out after him. "You could help the
Marple girl. She could use a friend."
"She had her chance once," Rick said without looking
back. He had accidentally knocked Becky's books out of her hand last
semester. He had tried to be friendly. She had gathered her things and
run away without a word.
"She hasn't had much practice being sociable. She's
planning on bumping into you before you return to your room, hoping she'll
have a second chance."
Rick left the boy's room. It had no door, just a
brief maze of tiled walls to block a direct view. He walked in nervous
circles in the hall, taking a moment to calm down.
They were all edgy, Rick reminded himself. Mort had
panicked and tried to run away. Becky had gotten sick. On a gut level,
Rick knew there was something especially frightening about their late
afternoon evaluation. There was more going on around them than met the eye.
Rick paused before entering ninety-four. When he
heard the soft sound of footsteps near, he looked up. Becky Marple
stopped in front of him and looked quickly down at the floor.
Rick decided to give it a try. "The last time I
bumped into you, I was never forgiven."
Becky blushed, smiled, and nodded, all without
looking at him. She tried to slip through the door and escape.
"Becky, look at me," he said.
Becky looked up in surprise.
"You've got your mother's eyes. I've got a thing for
Asian eyes. I hope you don't mind."
Her voice was a whisper. "How do you know about my
mother?"
"Gossip gets around, doesn't it? Don't tell me you
haven't overheard things about me. I got a rep for being a jock and all.
I'm not."
"You go steady with Marla van Kirk!" Becky said,
clearly awed by Marla's reputation as a high society girl.
"Things aren't always what they seem."
"Do you love her?"
The question sounded naive and unrealistic. "I like
her. I understand her."
"Oh."
Becky edged closer to the door. Inside the
classroom, Marla and Mort were talking. Yelling, actually. It was
Marla's way of getting to know people. Rick saw nothing of the
instructor-assistant, Mr. Mangrove.
"Looks like we've got some time to kill," Rick said
to the girl as his side. "Want to walk down the hall and talk?"
Becky looked up at him in alarm.
Rick had to laugh. "Hey, I don't bite. I've been
known to nibble, but not with strangers."
Becky laughed unexpectedly. It was the most cheerful
sound Rick had heard in ages. He would never have guessed she had it in
her.
"Okay," she said. "I guess we can talk."
"That's great."
But she said nothing as they headed down the broad
hallway toward the main entrance. "I heard your mom and dad are computer
programmers," Rick said to get things going. "You probably know more
about the new virtual equipment than the rest of us."
Becky shook her head. "I don't! I've never heard of
such a thing before! I didn't know it was even possible, at least not
complete virtual reality! But it must be okay. My parents must have
wanted me to do this, or I wouldn't be here."
"Marla said she was having trouble remembering
things," Rick said, hoping Becky would have an explanation. "I was having
the same problem. How about you?"
Becky looked up at him and held his gaze for a longer
moment. It seemed a crime the way she wasted her Eurasian beauty staring
at the ground so much. "I thought it was just me," she said breathlessly.
"Marla thinks we're drugged."
Becky shook her head. "My mom and dad would never
allow it."
"I guess we'll have to wait and see how things go."
Becky hugged herself as she walked.
"We're all scared," Rick said.
Becky glanced at him. "Your friends scare me."
Rick was about to say that they were all bark and no
bite. He thought better of it. "Are you going to be okay?" he asked
instead.
She stopped. She stood in silence with her head hung
low. When she looked up at him, she had tears in her eyes.
"I don't think so."
Rick reached out to put his hand on her arm. Becky
stepped quickly back. "Please, don't touch me."
"I only meant..."
Becky became agitated. "I'm sorry. I don't deal
well with people."
She turned and hurried back to room ninety-four.
Mr. Mangrove was waiting for them.
Rick took his seat.
"Shall we proceed?"
Again, Mr. Mangrove paced as he talked.
"The new virtual reality equipment is built into the
special desk consoles where you are sitting. There are no helmets or
bulky gear to wear. Everything is done by direct electrical interface
with the brain."
Mr. Mangrove stared at each of them in turn. "When
you are ready to begin, lay your head back and relax. The evaluation will
take only a few minutes. Your sense of time may be distorted. Hours may
seem to pass. Or even days. But we will be out of here sooner than you
think. You have my word."
Rick could not tell what was happening with the
others. For a long time, he refused to lay his head back against the
headrest. He looked back at one point in time, certain that he was being
watched.
The janitor was at the door. He gave Rick a thumbs
up.
"I know this is going to sound strange," Mr. Mangrove
said quietly, as if from a great distance. "For each of you, it's going
to begin with an entirely arbitrary stimuli. For no special reason, we
have chosen a cat. It begins now..."
With that, Rick found himself in another place and
time. He stood in darkness, in a jungle or a forest. Animals stirred in
the underbrush. Stars glimmered in the night sky overhead. In the
distance, an animal wailed, lonesome and calling to a mate, or maybe dying
in the jaws of something larger than itself.
From close by, one of those larger animals growled
low in its throat.
