Thirty-two
Rick was the first to notice a change in the
lighting. Down the hall, the morning sun shone through the bronzed glass
of the main entrance. Shafts of brilliant light slowly crept up the
corridor to engulf the darkness.
The automatic locks of the main entrance disengaged.
The bolts opened with a snick and a bang.
Rick rose to his feet. He shielded his eyes from the
glare. People milled at the door. He expected to see hundreds pour into
the school. Instead, a handful stood unmoving in the sunlight just
outside, waiting.
Mort hurriedly scooped Marla into his arms. Rick
helped Becky to her feet and tightly clasped her hand. Side by side, they
walked into the morning sunlight to freedom.
Rick took the lead. He recognized the man who stood
in front of the small crowd. "I take it you're not really a janitor after
all," he said.
The pale-eyed man offered a friendly grin. "Sure I
am, in a symbolic sort of way. It's still my job to clean up after you
kids."
Rick shielded his eyes to see who was standing in the
glare of the rising sun. He recognized only two, his mother and father.
"Mom?" he said incredulously. "Dad?"
His mother formed two familiar words with her lips.
I love you.
His father grinned, one arm draped about his wife.
He raised his free hand and gave Rick an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
Mort, too, seemed to recognize someone in the crowd.
As did Becky.
Marla had gone limp in Mort's arms, either dead or
unconscious. One way or another, the bleeding had stopped. A trail of
blood led back into the school, gleaming bright crimson in the morning
sunlight.
"Someone should help Marla," Rick suggested.
The janitor's gaze held steady. "She'll be fine."
"Can we go now?" Rick said, all but frantic with
anxiety. It was over. It had to be over.
"You'll be joining your family soon enough," the
janitor assured him.
Rick's heart picked up its beat again. His parents
stood only a short distance away, but he sensed they were somehow
inaccessible. The sunlight encircled the small group of adults like a
halo of light, like a frame that looked into another world entirely.
"Is this for real?" Rick said doubtfully.
"No," Becky said bluntly. "It's still part of the
dream."
"But the dream draws to its conclusion," the janitor
said.
"You had no right," Mort blurted out. No matter how
frightened and confused, Mort's anger was always the more powerful
emotion.
"We only gave you the inevitable," the janitor said.
"It wasn't real."
The janitor shrugged. "Will it ever be real?"
Mort thought about it. "No. It's never going to
happen. I'll damned well see to that."
"How much was real?" Becky asked quietly.
"All of it," the janitor said without hesitation.
"None of it!" Becky cried.
"We're real," Rick said. "Why else would they
have bothered?"
"What about our memories?" Becky said. "Are
we real?"
The janitor sighed. "Your memories of your past
lives are not real."
"Memory webs," Becky said fearfully.
The janitor gave her a reluctant nod of agreement.
"Everything?" Becky said, looking thoroughly shaken
by the disclosure.
"Everything."
Rick had a terrible premonition. "We're not going to
remember what happened this past night," he said.
"It's always difficult explaining your circumstance
to you kids, but the fact is, it will not be possible for you to remember
what has happened this past night. What you have experienced has been a
computer simulation."
"We're simulations, too?" Becky said, looking close
to panic.
"You are fully conscious simulations of the
individuals you were most likely to become."
"It was just a parent-teacher conference," Mort said
in confusion. "Why did you have to do all of that to us? What good did
it do?"
"It was a very special parent-teacher conference,"
the janitor said. "Parents are only human. They come in all shapes and
sizes, psychologically speaking, just like their children. Some are
good parents. Some are very poor parents."
"Tell me about it," Mort said bitterly.
"Our parent-teacher conference was to show your
parents the kind of teenagers and young adults you would become as things
stood, with their lives as they were. As they stand now, they see the
changes they must make in themselves to forestall the potential problems
you have shown us. You have, of course, demonstrated potential assets
that will be encouraged to flourish in your future lives as well."
"But we already have lives," Rick said, far too
stunned to be able to assimilate the fantastic tale the janitor was
spinning. "I go to college next year."
The janitor smiled wearily. "You will attend
college, I'm sure, but not quite next year. You see, Rick, you haven't
been born yet. We usually conduct these little personality simulations
during the last trimester, the last three months of a pregnancy..."
Rick opened his arms to embrace the dawn. "But I'm
here! I'm me!"
The janitor shrugged. "Consider it a dry run."
Becky squeezed his hand. "We're not real. Didn't
you hear what he said? We're part of the simulation. When they shut us
off, we'll be gone."
Mort stumbled back with a strangled cry, pulling
Marla all the closer to his chest. "No!"
The pale-eyed man shook his head emphatically. "It's
not like that. You are real and your consciousness in the world is
already well established. The memory webs derived from the stimulus your
parents will provide gave you the illusion of a mature identity and
physical surroundings, but your consciousness is your own. Those memory
webs will not come to pass. Your parents are capable of catching all but
the subtlest of their behavioral dysfunction, because nobody's quite
perfect yet, and make the necessary corrections. You will become individuals much
like you are, just as you stand here speaking with me, because you have
the potential for doing so. You’ve just proved that to all of us.
But you will be so much more. You will go so much further."
Regardless, a cold fear took root in Rick's heart.
"We'll never see each other again."
The janitor shook his head. "We would not be so
cruel. You will not remember details of this experience, but deep
emotional bonds have formed. Rest assured that you will all meet again
someday. We will see to it. You will have the opportunity to renew your
friendships."
Mort was gazing down into Marla's sleeping face.
"None of this is for real?"
"Much of your personal difficulty, Mortimer Braggs,
arose from your physical appearance. Would you like to see how that will
be changed?"
Mort managed a slight nod. Despite his terror, he
could not resist.
Even with Marla held in his arms, Mort's appearance
altered. He became taller and leaner. His face became more symmetrical.
"These are the genetic changes that are planned.
Will they suffice?"
Unable to see himself, a far more attractive Mortimer
Braggs looked to Rick for his evaluation.
Rick gave an astonished nod. "Yeah, that'll do just
fine."
"Am I still stuck with my name?" Mort asked meekly.
The janitor laughed. "Mortimer was your
grandfather's name."
"Great." But Mort managed a weary grin. After a
moment, his smile faded. "Pops," he said. "And my mom. They're not
dead."
"Knowing the likely outcome of their high-risk
behavior, your parents will take another path in life."
"And Marla," Mort said. "What about Marla?"
"Marla will not be a neglected child, I assure you."
The janitor smiled at Becky. "You will still have
the eyes that Rick likes so well. We're not certain where that attraction
comes from. We did not put it there."
"What about Bobby Randolph?" Becky asked softly.
"Bobby Randolph symbolized your own wish for death.
You parents never intended for their careers to interfere so badly with
their relationship with their newborn. Mr. Peters was a strong
possibility considering your vulnerability. That vulnerability has become
an equally strong improbability. They have suffered along with you this
evening. I think they have their priorities in order now."
"I don't want things changed too much with me," Rick
said eagerly. "I'm not so bad off."
"Not so bad off," the janitor said with a chuckle.
"You may be guided with a more caring and guiding hand in childhood.
Otherwise, we've been impressed with your sensitive nature. You haven't
minded serving as an emotional anchor for your less fortunate friends,
have you?"
"I haven't minded," Rick said, and he grinned at
Becky and Mort. It seemed a shame that Marla had missed out on their
debriefing, except it hardly mattered if they would retain no specific
memory of it.
The sun seemed to be getting brighter, making to
harder to see the janitor in the glare. His voice sounded from a greater
distance.
"Good luck to you all. Now give us a moment here..."
Rick was not aware of the moment a switch was flipped
and the simulation ended.
