Ex-Purgatory: A Novel (38 page)

“And Danielle?” She nodded at the redhead. “Barry? The gate guards would not have let an unarmed woman and a man in a wheelchair out into the city.”

“I don’t know all the details,” Christian said. “I just know you all left us high and dry, like I always said you would.” She pounded her chest. “I stayed. People can depend on me when things get tough. That’s why I—”

“Enough,” said Stealth. “Be silent.”

Christian took in a breath to shout and Stealth’s hand slid down to the baton tucked through her belt. The former councilwoman turned and stalked out of the room. Her swears echoed back to them.

“Should someone go after her?” asked Freedom.

“She will be safe as long as she remains on this floor,” said Stealth. “We have more important matters to discuss.”

St. George looked at his knuckles. “I can’t believe this,” he said. “I just can’t.”

Barry shrugged. “If Smith could make us all think the world was normal again, why couldn’t he make you smash through the Big Wall and think you’re … I don’t know, in the shower or something?”

St. George shook his head.

“I also do not believe you caused this damage,” Stealth said.

“Thanks.”

“At the moment, I cannot believe any element from her version of events.”

Danielle frowned. “Why not?”

Madelyn yawned at the end of the table. She sat up, blinked her chalk eyes, and took a quick look around the room. “Still just us, huh?”

Freedom shook his head. “Christian Nguyen’s survived,” he said, “and possibly some others.”

“But everyone else is dead?”

Freedom and St. George exchanged awkward glances. The giant officer took in a breath to speak, but Stealth interrupted him. “You remember where you are?” she asked Madelyn.

The Corpse Girl studied the room. “It’s your office at the Mount, right?”

Stealth’s eyebrow went up. Her jaw shifted as she studied the girl.

Madelyn looked around again. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Stealth after a moment, “it is.”

“And,” said Danielle, “you were about to tell us all why Christian’s a liar.”

“Perhaps not a liar,” Stealth said, her gaze swinging away from Madelyn, “but her version of events clashes with many observations I have made over the past forty-eight hours and additional facts I have culled from your own individual accounts.”

St. George set his hands on the table. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Perhaps.” Stealth crossed her arms. “Christian claims St. George has been present here at the Mount and is responsible for much of the damage to the Big Wall. This would be consistent with the patterns of damage the Wall has suffered. The overall evidence I have seen here confirms that at least four months have passed. During this time, all of us were most likely wandering Los Angeles in a trance or fugue state.

“The most straightforward possibility,” continued Stealth, “is that Smith has affected our perceptions. This is within the scope of his powers as we have experienced them.”

“Okay,” said Barry. “Got it. Smith’s playing mind games.”

“Which means he’s here in Los Angeles,” Danielle said. “He needs to talk to someone to control them.”

“That makes sense,” St. George said, “but how could he have made it into Los Angeles, into the Mount, without any of us knowing?”

“Maybe we did know,” said Freedom. “It’s possible he just forced us to forget.”

Madelyn snorted and flexed her arms over her head.

“However,” said Stealth as if they hadn’t spoken, “there is the matter of our clothes.”

“What?” Madelyn looked at herself. So did Freedom.

“Most of our clothes show little sign of wear. The stains are recent, from the past forty-eight hours, and many have not had time to dry. The damage is fresh and still shows clean edges which have not frayed.”

“What’s your point?” asked Freedom.

“Where did they come from?” responded Danielle. “If we’ve been walking around hypnotized for the past four months, where’ve we been getting clean clothes?”

“Not just clothing,” said Stealth. She gestured at St. George. “Your hair smells of shampoo, as does Madelyn’s. My hands smell of skin cream. Captain Freedom has freshly cut fingernails. Barry’s clothes contain hints of the antiseptic spray used by cleaning crews between domestic flights.”

Madelyn pulled a lock of hair under her nose and sniffed.

“But I thought we decided this is all an illusion,” said Barry. “I wasn’t on a plane.”

“You could not have been,” agreed Stealth. “Yet these scents cling to all of us. We also have this.” She pulled three small cubes of glass from her pocket and they bounced on the table. “These are from the windshield St. George went through when the Driver stopped moving. They were trapped in his fleece coat. If this was all an illusion, where did that momentum come from?”

“If our view of the world has been altered,” said Freedom, “it’s possible we thought we were in a car when we were just walking along the road. Then we climbed into a wreck and found ourselves back in the real world.”

St. George picked up one of the glass cubes. “And me going through the windshield?”

“You can fly, sir,” said the captain. “Maybe you threw yourself.”

“A solid hypothesis,” said Stealth. “Very similar to the one I had formed myself before you found Barry.”

Barry blinked. “Me?”

“If this was an illusion,” she said, “we could have crossed the city on foot. Barry could not have.”

“Unless I was in my energy form,” he said. “Then it’s like George and the windshield. I could’ve been flying along, flitted into the cab, and turned human again.”

“Except you were found clothed,” said Stealth. She looked at Freedom and Danielle. “And the car had suffered no heat damage from proximity to Zzzap.”

“No,” agreed Danielle, “it didn’t.”

“Maybe he changed a few yards away,” Freedom suggested. His lips twitched as he said it.

“Which still does not explain the matter of his clothing,” Stealth said. “There is also the matter of food and water. Even if we had all avoided contact with ex-humans, which is unlikely, four months is sufficient time to starve to death. Yet none of us are hungry or show signs of malnourishment. What have we been eating for the past four months?”

Danielle shuddered. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Madelyn’s lips twisted. “Couldn’t Smith just make us believe we’ve been eating and drinking?”

“He could,” agreed Stealth, “but that would not stop our bodies from suffering the effects of malnourishment and dehydration.”

“Unless he’s keeping us from seeing those, too,” said St. George.

“If we are going to accept that Smith has altered our perceptions in …”

Stealth paused. A moment later Barry sat up in his office chair. “Son of a bitch,” he said. “We’re in the ship in a bottle.”

Madelyn looked at him. “What?”

“It’s a classic
Next Generation
episode,” explained Barry. “ ‘Ship in a Bottle.’ It’s one of the best ones they did. They filmed it here at the Mount. Picard and Data go into the holodeck and encounter the holographic Moriarty, but when they leave Moriarty walks out with them, even though he shouldn’t be able to survive outside.”

“Barry,” sighed St. George, “not now.”

“No, listen,” insisted Barry. “They spend most of the episode trying to figure out how he did it, because it should be impossible—it defies every bit of science they know—but it turns out the whole thing’s a trick. They never even left the holodeck. Moriarty created a holodeck program that made them think they’d left and were out walking around the ship.”

They all stared at him for a moment. “Yes,” Stealth said. “I believe your analogy is accurate.”

“What are you two talking about?” asked Danielle.

“A lot of people thought the Wachowskis were doing the same thing with the second
Matrix
movie,” continued Barry. His eyes were wide and he tapped the desk with his fingertips. “See, after
The Matrix Reloaded
there were all these theories about why Neo could use his powers outside the Matrix because people were still thinking the Wachowskis knew what they were doing. And one of the ideas was that the Matrix we all knew was actually nestled inside a
second
Matrix. That way people would think they’d escaped but really they were still hooked into the pods.”

“How is it that no matter what’s happening you can relate it to
The Matrix
?” asked St. George.

“Because it’s the greatest movie ever made,” said Barry.

“I’m lost,” said Freedom. “Are you saying … we were in pods?”

Stealth shook her head. “We have based all of our assertions off that reality’s interactions with this one, but we have been doing so under the assumption this is the real world.”

St. George got it. So did Madelyn. Danielle saw the look on their faces. “What?” she said. “I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“None of this is real, either,” said St. George, waving his arm at the office. “Smith’s still got us.”

“IT EXPLAINS EVERYTHING,”
said Stealth. “There is no conflict of facts if this is another illusion. This is why none of us have been bitten, and also why elements of the other world are carrying over.”

“Sounds like this world is kind of sloppy, then,” said Madelyn.

“It’s not a world,” said Barry. “It’s a safety net. If we break through the main illusion, this one catches us and bounces us back.”

St. George looked at him. “How do you figure?”

“Think about it. You’re convinced the world’s normal and you start having these ‘hallucinations,’ right? I don’t know about you, but my first reaction was ‘Well,
that
can’t be real.’ ”

“So everyone’s okay?” Danielle asked. “Gibbs, Makana, all the rest of them?”

“It is best to assume everything we have encountered in this world is another perceptual illusion created by Agent Smith,” Stealth said.

“And Cerberus is okay,” said Danielle. She almost smiled.

“A question, if I may,” said Freedom.

Stealth dipped her chin.

“Are
we
all real?”

They glanced at each other. “How do you mean?” asked Danielle.

“How do we know that some of us aren’t just part of the illusion, too? I mean, for all we know one of us could be Smith telling us to see him as someone else.”

“Like the Shadow,” Barry said. “Clouding our minds so we cannot see him.”

St. George looked at the others. “Valid point. How do we prove we’re real?”

Madelyn shook her head. “I’m real.”

“I think I am, too,” said Freedom.

“Maybe I’m the one who’s real and I’m just thinking you’re both thinking you’re real,” Barry said.

“That’s just silly,” said Madelyn.

Barry shook his head. “I have a really vivid imagination.”

“Cogito ergo sum,” said Freedom.

“Aptly put,” said Stealth, “but how can any of us prove to another that we are actually thinking beings and not just hallucinations?”

“And,” Barry said, “another ‘Ship in a Bottle’ reference. You’re getting better at this, Captain.”

Freedom managed a half smile. “Thank you, sir.”

“I’ve got one for you,” said Danielle. She cocked her head toward the office door and the hallway. “Is she real? Christian?”

They all glanced after the councilwoman. “Why?” asked Madelyn.

“If she is part of the illusion,” said Stealth, “why is she the only living person in the Mount? If she is in the illusion, as we are, why has Smith isolated her?”

“Because she has power,” said Freedom. “He attaches himself to people with power and influence and uses them as puppets. That’s how he stays out of the crosshairs.”

“But then wouldn’t he need her … I don’t know, awake?” Barry asked. “Not trapped in the Matrix with us?”

“Assuming she is real,” said Stealth, “and not an element of the illusion.”

“If this is another level of the illusion,” said St. George, tapping on the table, “how do we get out of it?”

“
Can
we get out of it?” asked Danielle. “When he plants these ideas, they’re pretty hard to shake.”

“But not impossible,” Stealth said. “Several people have been able to create pathways around the blocks Smith creates.”

“Like out at Krypton,” said St. George, “when I rescued you from the helicopter even though Smith told me I couldn’t beat him.”

“Correct,” she said. “You were able to rationalize a situation which allowed you to act without violating the conditions he had imposed upon you.”

“We were never able to do that before, though,” said Freedom. “He had most of us believing his lies for two years.”

“Until we arrived at Project Krypton,” said Stealth, “none of you had reason to doubt the beliefs he created. Once we did, most of the Unbreakables resisted his imposed perceptions within a few days. The same may be happening here. Our minds are working around the imposed images and attempting to show us the real world.”

“So, wait,” said Barry. “If we’ve already shaken off most of his voodoo, does that mean we’ve only been under for a few days?”

“There is no way to be sure,” Stealth said.

“So how do we get out of this?” asked Madelyn.

“I’m still not entirely clear how we got out of the last one,” said Freedom. “Do we just have to … not believe in the world?”

“How do you do that, though?” muttered Danielle. “It’s like the old ‘don’t think about pink elephants’ thing.”

“I believe I have a possible solution,” said Stealth. She walked over to Freedom and gestured him down to her level. She cupped her hand by his ear and whispered for a few moments.

Freedom glanced at her, stared across the room, and then nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“What?” said Danielle. “Are you going to share with all of us?”

“Smith’s suggestions work in a manner similar to dream states,” said Stealth. “A simple idea is planted in either the conscious or subconscious, and the brain reworks memories to accommodate this idea.”

“Okay,” said Barry. “That kind of makes sense.”

“I believe there is a simple solution,” Stealth said. “There is a common sleep disorder known as a hypnagogic jerk. It is an involuntary muscle twitch. Some biologists believe it may be a holdover from our primate ancestors, similar to the Moro reflex in infants.” She looked at St. George. “I suggested it to you yesterday.”