Socket 1-3 - The Socket Greeny Saga (55 page)

She watched the water run beneath the
bridge. “Are you going to leave me, again?”

I didn’t want to know the details of our
future. It just seemed like a bad idea because if she wasn’t there,
could I live with that? But when a future glimpse presented itself,
I couldn’t resist. I saw the future of our path and knew that Chute
would be with me the rest of my life. I saw us together. We were
old. I saw us walking with wrinkled fingers hooked together.

No, I will never leave you.

T R A I N I N G

Comet

It was months before the world got their
nojakks back. Virtualmode’s return, however, had yet to be
determined. A Paladin spokesperson made an announcement to boos,
but public officials didn’t condemn them. They didn’t say anything.
The Paladins were pretty convincing, it appeared, to make them see
it that way. I doubted they told them what
really
happened,
but who knows, maybe they were changing public relations
policy.

The Garrison had limited functionality. The
training rooms were just white rooms and servys didn’t greet us in
the parking garage. We carried our own bags, served ourselves lunch
and sat on plain chairs, just like everyone else.

We lost over half the Paladin Nation in the
battle and most of the commanding tier. The void of leadership was
filled with inexperience and decisions were slow and
heavily-debated. Mother was needed more than ever. She spent her
time travelling around the world and I spoke to her through
projection more often than in the skin, but I could feel her no
matter how far away she was. I could feel her pulse inside me like
an organic lifeline, and knew when she was well and when she was
stressed.

I spent most of my time in the Preserve.
Before, when I was just a cadet, no one paid much attention to me.
I was a promising cadet, but I was still a cadet. In the eyes of
accomplished Paladins, I was a kid. Nothing more. I still had to
prove something.

But that was then.

I changed the world; maybe even saved the
human race. So now Paladins looked at me with reverence. Sometimes,
fear. I stayed hidden, most of the time. I didn’t want to cause
fear; I wanted them to adjust to the new era. One day, when I was
dead, the stories would make me larger than life. But I was still
alive, there was nothing to fear.

I would not become another Pivot, segregated
from society in my own jungle, reverting to a modern day Tarzan. I
would embrace the Paladin Nation, and, if possible, guide it. For
the path called me to lead, and that would require knowing those
around me. But until things settled, it was just me and the
grimmets.

“All cadets are recognized for their
Realizations.” The Commander had come out to the grimmet tree
alone. “More than ever, we need to recognize this one.”

We need you, Socket Greeny.

When the day came, I reported. It wasn’t so
much for recognition or fame or to prove all those doubters wrong.
The Paladin Nation needed to believe in something. Even though
these were highly evolved humans, the degree of betrayal had
destroyed their trust. Existing without hope was difficult. They
needed something to rally around. Even though I understood there
was nothing to hope for, that the present moment was perfect, the
Paladin Nation needed something to believe until they could see
that for themselves.

I went to the Preserve deck where I had
first met Com. If I knew what he was then, could all that death
have been avoided? I still had a lot to learn about seeing the
future and what I could do about it.

I stood at the edge, watching dusk settle
over the Preserve. The jungle inhabitants greeted the rising moon.
Far away, I saw the barren branches of the grimmet tree. Colors
swirled around it as the grimmets chased insects.

If only Pon could be here. I didn’t want him
at the ceremony, although his expression would be entertaining.
No need for frivolity!
No, I just wanted him to see the
fruits of his labor. There were so many that paved the path on
which I stood, I could only hope that on some other plane of
existence, they could see where it led, that their efforts had not
been wasted. That I was grateful to have walked with them.

Spindle stepped next to me. He was the only
mech to be activated, my special request. His data was backed up
and uploaded to another bodyshell.

“How many times are you going to save my
life?” I asked.

“As long as it is required.”

We paused a bit longer and listened to the
jungle

“It is time,” he said. “The ceremony has
begun.”

“Has Mother made arrangements?”

“All those you requested are in attendance,
awaiting your arrival.”

Yes, Pon would frown on such frivolity, but
I would not waste his efforts. Let’s celebrate the moment. Nothing
frivolous about that. I looked across the Preserve, to the grimmet
tree.

[Come,]
I thought.

The colorful mass spiraled towards us.
Spindle and I went to the door and, before it opened, Rudder
smacked into my palm. Hundreds of wings batted the wind behind us.
We walked down a long corridor, side by side, and entered the only
functional moldable room in the Garrison.

It was a floor and nothing else, like it was
floating in silent space with the stars and planets above and
below. A half circle of Paladin leaders stood in the middle. In
front of them were the people that mattered most. My mother was
there. And, upon my request, Chute and Streeter. The three of them
stood at attention.

It was good to see Streeter distracted by
the technological wonder. I could see his mind already spinning
with all the things he could do with technology like this. Chute,
though, she was smiling. Her hair was down around her face and her
energy was brighter than all those in attendance, pulling me toward
the center.

The grimmets erupted from the tunnel and,
for a moment, buried us in the furious patter of leathery wings.
They circled the platform several times until they were all
present, then filled the empty space on the floor, leaving a path
for us to follow. Spindle took a step back and a spot glowed in the
center. Rudder swung from my fingers as I made the walk.

There was no echo of my footsteps, not even
the rustle of wings. All was silent. The Commander acknowledged my
presence with a slight nod, and then looked skyward. While only a
few Paladins were in actual attendance, the rest were surely
watching the event from around the world.

“It is with great pleasure,” he said, his
voice booming, “to recognize the accomplishment of Socket Pablo
Greeny. The one who sees clearly is truly a gem beyond value, for
he is one that lays the path for us to follow.”

He made eye contact with everyone on the
platform before continuing.

“If there are any in attendance that wish to
speak against the induction and Realization of Socket Pablo Greeny,
this is your moment.” After a long, silent pause, he bowed his
head. “It is an honor, Paladin.”

A raucous shuffle resounded as the grimmets
bowed in unison, all well-behaved. Their eyes were to the ground,
tails curled around their bodies. Mother stepped forward and put
both hands on my shoulders. She gently turned me around so that my
back was to the congregation. Chute and Streeter stepped to each
side.

“There is nothing we can give you to equal
what you have given us,” the Commander said. “For the understanding
you embody is priceless. But, sadly, it does not come without a
cost.”

Mother’s hands tightened.

“In honor of all those that lost their
lives,” he said, “a memorial is launched.” A bright light emerged
from below the lip of the platform and seemed to be far out in
space, a long tail trailing behind it. “May its glory blaze
throughout the universe until the end of time, so that they may
never be forgotten.”

The comet slowly streaked away and we
watched it shrink into the distance. Nothing was said. Nothing
stirred. The ceremony was for all of us. For the world. For all
existence. And then I realized where home was. It wasn’t in the
Preserve or a house in South Carolina. It was here, in existence.
It was right this moment.

I put my arms around Chute and Streeter.
Chute laid her head on my shoulder and we watched the comet until
it was a tiny point of light glittering through the constellation
of the Big Dipper. We watched it with wonder.

We watched it right here and now.

VII

Life won’t take you where you want to
be;

It will take you where you’re needed.

Like it or not.

Pike

To love deeply is to risk grandly.

One cannot be without the other.

Chute

Those who know, don’t tell.

And those who tell, don’t know.

Buddhist proverb

L E G E N D

Child’s Play

Dreams rarely came to me when I slept.
Visions were a different story. I could see them and feel them.
Smell them. They were a glimpse of things to come.

This night while I slept, I saw a man
walking down a crowded sidewalk, a man that hadn’t seen daylight in
years. A man destined to never see it again. But in the vision he
was there, walking among people with the sun on his face. I
wouldn’t believe such a story anymore than Jack climbing a
beanstalk. But this was a vision.

My visions were rarely wrong.

I sat up in a massive chair, my forehead
numb from the desk, but it was nothing compared to the cold
tingling sensation in my neck, a side-effect of visions, a dense
uncomfortable numbness that took hours to fade. I rubbed my
neck.

I rarely made it to bed. My desk served as a
poor substitute. My office was oversized, to say the least. A
hundred feet long, maybe fifty wide. The walls, floor and ceiling
were made from microscopic nanomechs the size of skin cells and
equipped to mold any object, create any environment or situation.
It was also buried under a billion tons of granite beneath Garrison
Mountain, home of the Paladin Nation.

Currently, the room was glowing blue from
the intricate web of lines that represented naturally-occurring
wormholes throughout the universe. It was the soft glow and
pulsating stars that made me drowsy, but now I was awake with the
image of a free man branded on my brain. A man that, given me the
choice, would no longer be breathing. No going back to sleep
now.

[Off,]
I thought to the room.

The blue threads and twinkling stars
disappeared, leaving me alone in the darkness. I called for the
room to connect me with the man in my vision.

The walls bled brown from beneath the
surface. I walked around the desk. The ceiling turned a deep shade
of violet and a chair grew from a blackened floor. It was solid
with stout armrests, immovable and empty. I paced to the end of the
room with my hands locked behind my back and stared at the blank
wall. The vision remained sharp and detailed, like a lighthouse
illuminating deadly shores. And the dull sensation hung over my
neck like a blanket of chains.

“Can’t sleep?” a voice sang.

The chair was now occupied with a frail,
bald man. His glasses were black, meant only to cover the white
sightless eyes beneath, for the benefit of others.

“You should try warm milk,” he said. “Dip
some cookies in it, the ones with the creamy filling. They’ll hit
your stomach like a bomb, blow you into the next morning.” He
folded his legs. “At least, that’s what they tell me.”

Three hairless men appeared behind the
chair, wearing black glasses. They were blind minders, as well,
seeing with psychic vision instead of eyes, but they were no
friends of the one in the chair. They stared at the man now
pretending to dip cookies into a glass on his lap.

“You’re dismissed.” I waved at the three
minders. “This exchange will be private.”

The one in the middle said, “Request denied.
Pike is to be kept under continual surveillance.”

Constant surveillance?
Pike was
hardly a threat. After years of imprisonment and minder pressure,
the fabric of his mind had been stretched and frayed, his thoughts
and motivations splayed open like a butchered pig. His brain
struggled to function and what few thoughts he had were hardly
coherent. There was no need for three minders to contain his mind,
hardly a need for one.

But he’d fooled us all before.

They resumed their focus on the man now
double dipping imaginary cookies, shoving them in his mouth. “Uu
unt sum
?
”

“At least back up,” I said. “Give us some
space.”

The minders considered my request. Ignored
it. Pike cowered under the intensified psychic heat that restricted
the expansion of his mind. He looked over his shoulder like he just
got slapped with a ruler.

“I call them Mo, Larry and Curly, you know.
Larry’s on the left and Mo’s in the middle because he’s the boss.
And that’s Curly there.” Right shoulder. “I used to call him Shemp
because he’s not funny.” A very serious look stretched over his
face. “But Curly’s my favorite. So, you know.”

His favorite episode was
The Three
Stooges Meet Frankenstein
. I knew that because he told me. And
now he was going through it, scene by scene, and quickly seemed
oblivious to me, as if telling the story to himself.

I walked closer to Pike’s image and began to
sit slowly, allowing the room to form a chair below me. It was
wider than the one that confined Pike. I sat forward, resting my
chin on my knuckles, allowing my mind to surround and penetrate
Pike’s mind. Even though he was just an image in front of me,
something constructed by the room, it was projecting his presence
from a secure location. It was no different than if he was sitting
right there in front of me, laughing about the way Mo hammered
Larry and Curly. His essence still flowed through the image, much
like a voice travels through a phone. I could follow it with my
mind, all the way back to the prison cell he shared with a rotation
of minder guards.