Broken Pixels (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 4) (19 page)

“Unlikely. However, we have contacted the authorities and informed them of our findings so far. They will probably want to take the diode to one of their facilities for further examination,” the doctor said, extending her hand to Mara. Mara returned the LED to her.

“Why would someone want to elicit feelings of euphoria and ecstasy in people? What could be accomplished by that?” Ping asked.

“Maybe they’re getting people to be religious again,” Sam suggested. “All that chanting and see-the-light stuff sure sounded religious to me. Coming from a family of cult leaders, that’s where I’d put my money.”

Dr. Canfield looked askance at him, but Mara shook her head. “It’s a long story. Let’s not go there. It won’t do much to shore up our credibility with you. What do you think could be accomplished by allowing people these feelings?”

“I assumed that whoever created the diodes would use them as leverage against anyone who might have become addicted to the feelings they cause. Whoever controls the diodes controls the addicts. Right?” the doctor asked.

Mara glanced at Ping. He nodded and said, “If Abby is interested in controlling the course of events in this realm, that might be an effective approach. However, I would not completely discount Sam’s theory. The chanting did
feel
like religious fervor, though that might have simply been enthusiasm for what they were experiencing.”

Dr. Canfield shook her head. “I simply cannot believe that. Culturally we have no point of reference to start worshiping something out of the blue, even if someone knocked down the mental barriers to allow feelings of euphoria.”

“I tend to agree. The crowd we encountered didn’t appear focused on an icon or a leader per se. We simply don’t have enough information to ascertain a specific motive,” Ping said.

Mara asked, “Is there something that can be done to prevent more people from being affected by this thing?”

“We’re looking into remedies, but that will take some time. In the meantime, the best thing to do is to prevent exposure—don’t look at the diodes—and that information is being disseminated via Sig-net as we speak,” Dr. Canfield said. She replaced the diode in the sample container and its lid before slipping it into her pocket. “Speaking of remedies, I have arranged for your receptacles and Quintivir treatments. I would suggest you not delay any further.”

“I’m not sure we’re quite ready yet,” Mara said.

Standing up, the doctor looked concerned. “You’re gambling with your lives by not getting the treatments. If you are uncomfortable about the procedure or the receptacles, I can have one of the attendants walk you through it, even show you the receptacles. Cam can go with you to help answer questions.”

Mara shook her head and said, “I not really concerned about—”

Ping interjected, “I think it would be an excellent idea for us to do a walk-through.” He patted Sam’s hands on the table and added, “I’m sure it would make your brother more comfortable. Isn’t that correct?” He looked at Sam.

Sam shrugged and said, “Sure.”

“Very well, I’ll have someone come by in a little while to show you around,” the doctor said.

Instead of guiding them to the sloping tunnel that led to the railcar stop they had used earlier, Ethan—the attendant Dr. Canfield had assigned to give them the tour of the repository—raised his left arm, directing them to a path comprised of diagonal yellow lines painted on the asphalt flooring that ran parallel to the rough-hewn rock wall. Sam and Cam walked side by side behind the tall Scandinavian-looking man dressed like a hospital orderly, followed by Ping and Mara.

After several hundred feet, they turned into a second passage chiseled into the wall. Unlike the one that led to the railcar, this one sloped upward noticeably and seemed to be much longer. Mara wondered if it just seemed that way because of the effort it took to walk up the incline. Several minutes later, instead of coming to another opening, they stopped in front of two large doors built into a cinder-block wall. Mounted next to the doors was a glossy plastic plaque that Ethan made a point of leaning his face in front of. A band of light passed over the plaque and the attendant’s face. The doors ahead slid open and disappeared into the wall.

They stepped through the passageway onto a huge steel mesh platform that reminded Mara of a fire escape, except this one was large enough to accommodate a semitruck and was mounted on the side of a massive cavern spread out below them. Their shoes set off metallic echoes as they stepped onto the grating. A rough-hewn dome loomed some fifty feet over their heads and dully reflected the lights mounted into the sides of the circular cavern. Like a massive silo, but bisected by some kind of central pillar or shaft with round platforms mounted to it every twenty feet or so. Mara couldn’t tell how deep it went, but she got that same sense of endlessness when she stared up the sides of a skyscraper. Only this was underground, and she was looking in the wrong direction.

Behind them, the doors closed, and Ethan turned toward a panel of buttons mounted in the wall. He pressed a large blue one, and Mara felt the steel mesh vibrate below her feet. She heard the low hum of a motor. Her eyes sought to determine the source for several seconds, then Ethan pointed downward, over the edge of the platform. Rising from below, a metal extension arched upward like a drawbridge. Slowly it slid into place with a click, level with the platform on which they stood. The vibrations and sounds stopped. The bridge had handrails and mesh siding, matching the platform. As a causeway, it led toward the center of the cavern.

Ethan opened a gate on the side of the platform that allowed access to the bridge. Motioning forward, he said, “Right this way and we’ll begin the tour of the repository.”

Mara glanced across the causeway and could see that it ended at another gate, connecting them to the top circular platform at the center of the cavern. She glanced doubtfully at Ethan and asked, “How deep is this cavern?”

“It’s deep enough to store and maintain ten thousand bodies. Don’t worry. The bridgeway is very secure. We’ve never had any accidents with it. It is designed to be secure even in the event of an earthquake,” he said.

Mara tentatively stepped onto it and then took a few more confidently. Ping followed her without hesitating.

As Sam approached the causeway, he glanced over the edge and said, “You didn’t answer her question. How many levels does this thing go down?”

Ethan smiled. “Forty levels. Two-hundred and fifty people on each level.”

Sam stepped forward and asked, as he walked across, “So this whole place is filled up? What happens when you need to store more people?”

“This repository has just over seven thousand people at the moment. But if it were to reach capacity, it could be expanded, or another repository could be opened to accommodate more people,” the attendant said. He motioned Cam across and then raised his voice toward Mara who had arrived at the other side. “Just press the button on the top of the gate and it will open.”

Mara did as instructed and walked onto the circular platform. This one was solid, not steel mesh, she noted. Glancing around, she saw just one feature: a small rectangular structure with sliding doors on its front. Like an elevator shaft sticking out of the floor, giving her the impression they stood on the roof of the repository—which proved to be correct when Ethan directed them to it and pressed a button next to the doors. They slid open.

After they loaded onto the elevator and the doors closed, Ethan said, “We’ll go down a couple levels, and I’ll show you the receptacles that have been prepared for each of you. After that, if you are interested, we’ll take a quick tour around, but I must ask that you not approach any of the occupied receptacles out of respect for the privacy of the occupants. We don’t normally have cause to show these facilities to people.”

Cam chimed in and said, “I told Dr. Canfield that we can take a closer look at my receptacle, if you guys are interested. She said that would be okay.”

Ethan nodded as the doors opened, and he stepped off the elevator into a dimly lit antiseptic hallway that curved so subtly that someone standing in the middle of it had to look into the distance to notice. It felt like standing in a warped but abandoned hospital.

Their guide led them to the right, and, after several steps, the solid white walls gave way to clear glass through which rows of empty tubes—sitting atop three-foot pedestals and large enough to hold a person—could be seen. Mara stopped to peer at them.

“All these are empty,” she said. After squinting, she made out darkened screens at the base of each tube. She thought she could see unpowered lights above the tubes. “They seem to be turned off.”

Ethan nodded. “Like I said, this facility has some unused capacity. This floor is completely unoccupied. Dr. Canfield thought it would be best to have the three of you placed here since your stay is expected to be temporary—which I’m not sure I completely understand.”

Cam rolled his eyes and said, “It’s a long story that you probably wouldn’t believe anyway.”

Mara pointed to the pedestal of the closest receptacle and asked, “What exactly is the technology housed in the base of the tubes? I assume some kind of mechanism is behind those screens.”

“Let’s go inside, and we’ll power up one of the receptacles you’ll be occupying. I’ll give you a quick overview of how they work—and then I’ll answer all your questions,” Ethan said.

He pointed down the hall and walked for forty feet until they came to a door on the right. As they approached, it slid open to the curved room that held the tubes. They were arrayed in rows of five, each forming a spoke that radiated out from the center of the building. Lights recessed into the ceiling brightened as they entered, illuminating the closest set of tubes just to the left of the door.

Mara paused at the first tube they approached and leaned around it to see the rows beyond. Light caught the rounded edges of the more distant tubes that stood in the shadows like an army battalion mustered for night duty. The back rows of the formation disappeared around the curve of the room, conveying an eerie sense of endlessness—though Mara knew that wasn’t true. With five receptacles for each row and each floor containing 250 receptacles, she quickly figured there were fifty rows of clear containers spanning this floor.

Ethan approached the screen at the base of the first receptacle and tapped it with a finger. The screen illuminated and went through come kind of boot sequence, and several other lights flashed next to it. A moment later the base of the tube illuminated, casting light up through the tube toward the ceiling.

“Sorta looks like a giant lightbulb,” Sam said. Bending to look at the side of the tube, he then asked, “So how do you get the body inside there?”

Ethan tapped the screen and the right half of the tube rotated into the left side. He tapped again and the right side of the pedestal folded into three steps. The attendant held out a hand and said, “You just walk inside when you’re ready.”

“So give us the rundown. What exactly does the receptacle do?” Mara asked.

“There are two primary functions. The first is to maintain and monitor the biological body. The receptacle provides all the necessary nutrition and physical stimulus the body needs to live a full and healthy lifespan. Medical needs can be addressed as well, without removing the body. The second function is to sync with the artificial body’s core.”

Ping’s eyebrows knitted together. “To what end?” he asked.

Ethan gave him a confused look. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“You’re syncing the receptacle with the synthetic body? What is the purpose of that?” Ping asked.

Ethan shook his head. “The receptacle is simply the conduit. The point is to sync the biological and synthetic bodies. The receptacle enables us to carry out that function.”

Cam raised a hand and everyone turned to him. “Perhaps I can explain. The experiences that we have in our synthetic bodies are stored in our cores.” He tapped his chest. “That information is then transferred to a second storage device in the base of the receptacle, where it is then relayed to our biological bodies. That allows our biological bodies to experience the life that we live.”

Mara frowned. “So you’re not just storing your biological bodies in case you need some more engrams. They share the life experiences you have in your artificial bodies?”

“Exactly,” Cam said. “Of course the three of you will not be connected to a synthetic body. You’ll just be in stasis long enough for the receptacle to administer the Quintivir and make sure the virus is eradicated from your bodies before you leave.”

Mara looked at Ethan and said, “Before we retrieved Cam’s head, Dr. Canfield said that, if it couldn’t be salvaged—forgive the phrase—that a new head could be fabricated, but new engrams would have to be extracted from Cam’s biological body.”

Ethan nodded. “That’s true.”

“But she also said that he would lose some of the sense of what he had experienced in his life up to that point. But if your biological bodies are sharing your experiences, you would think that those engrams would be able to convey those experiences. Wouldn’t you?” she asked.

“That may sound logical to a layman, but in reality transplanting engrams isn’t a brain transplant. They are more generalized than that. All that a person is and has been cannot be transferred just through engrams,” the attendant said.

“So how do you know the biological bodies are experiencing what the synthetic ones do?” Mara asked. “I assume you can’t read their minds.”

“That’s true. We can’t read their minds, but the receptacles can monitor their brain wave patterns. There’s no doubt that our biological bodies are experiencing full, rich lives, and they store memories as they do so. All that, we can detect.”

Sam interjected, “I, for one, am glad that they won’t be able to read my mind while I’m in that thing.”

Ethan chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. “For you guys, the receptacle will be little more than a fancy hospital bed and a monitor. Would you like to see some of the monitoring functions before we go downstairs and visit Cam’s biological body?”