The Traveler's Companion (22 page)

“I can’t get ahold of the governor.” He shrugged angrily. “What’s going on?”

“You can’t get ahold of the governor because he doesn’t exist, at least not in this reality.”

“What are you talking about? Who are you? Let me see some identification.”

“I don’t have my identification. I was pickpocketed the other night. I can assure you that I am who I say I am and what I’m telling you is true. I just need a minute to prove it.

“First off, this city isn’t what it appears to be. The buildings, the streets, the people—everything you see is the result of a thought experiment. It’s merely a facsimile of the real San Francisco. Imagine you were given a machine that could replicate life; it could reproduce the known universe. You used this machine to create a city, a place that looked and felt just like the real thing, it even contained all of the same natural elements of the real thing, but it was just a copy, like a picture.”

“Copy? Are you trying to tell me that none of this is real? Are you insane?”

Iverson was doing the best he could, but he had to admit, were he in the mayor’s place, he would have reacted the same way. The whole thing sounded ridiculous.

“If I were in your shoes, I suppose I’d want proof.”

“Quickly, my friend. I don’t have the time or energy for any of this. If you are who you say you are, and the government has built some type of super weapon that can dissolve buildings, will you please tell them to stop? For the sake of mankind, I hope it’s not true.”

“It’s not a weapon, exactly. It’s a place where neurological energy is converted into matter.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that I created everything here, including you.”

The mayor looked more annoyed than shocked. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Allow me to demonstrate,” Iverson said.

“I’m calling for the guard.” The mayor reached for the phone.

“Don’t use that phone.”

As the mayor held the receiver to his ear, Iverson made the phone vanish.

The mayor jumped to his feet and backed away from the table. “What the hell?!”

“Sit down, Mister Mayor. Stay calm. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“What the hell’s going on? Who are you?”

“Do you have a name?” Iverson asked him. He had hoped to get through this without panicking the mayor, but that had been wishful thinking.

“Of course! My name’s. . . .”

“Can’t remember, can you?”

“I can’t remember.” The mayor sat down.

“You don’t have a name, because, for some reason, I didn’t give you one. I was able to create human beings, people with personalities and intelligence, but who, for some reason, didn’t get histories. Experience is impossible to replicate, maybe because it’s unquantifiable, I don’t know. You are, as far as I can tell, a clone; a copy of a human being, minus their life experience.”

“This was you? You made this happen?”

“Yes,” Iverson said.

“I’ve been getting reports from all over the city. People don’t know who they are.” He continued to look for the phone, a part of him believing he had been tricked somehow.

“In quantum theory it’s believed that matter is determined, in part, by the observer. The simple truth is that no one knows what reality is exactly or what consciousness’s role is in it. Where do we come from and where do we go after we die? No one knows.”

The mayor looked lost and Iverson hoped to simplify things for him. “Are you like me? No, you’re not. You only live a few days and you aren’t able to manifest things like I can. You lack my god-like power. But, you are real.”

The mayor sat down and stared at Iverson, wondering what to make of him. “I need more proof,” he said. “None of this makes sense.”

Iverson stood and approached the mayor. “Give me your hand.”

Reluctantly, the mayor extended a hand. Iverson took it, shut his eyes, and imagined the Waldo Tunnels.

He and the mayor were now standing at the entrance of the Waldo Tunnels. To Iverson’s surprise, there was a traffic jam. Commuters trying to leave the city had parked their cars on the highway, gotten out, and were camping on the side of the road. Were they afraid of what was on the other side of the tunnel—the dark fate that awaited them? Traffic coming into the city was flowing steadily, and people were gathered on that side to marvel at cars appearing from nowhere.

“This is unbelievable,” the mayor said. “How did we get here?”

A man speaking intensely with a group noticed the mayor and quickly ran over to him.

“Mister Mayor,” the man said. “Are you aware of what’s going on here? Have you seen what’s at the end of the tunnel?”

The mayor shook his head.

“Come with me,” the man commanded.

The mayor followed him. Iverson went with them, but trailed a few feet behind them.

“It doesn’t make sense,” the man told the mayor. “There’s nothing on the other side. Just blackness. Look.”

“Blackness?” the mayor asked, slowly going further into the tunnel.

“Nothingness!” the man shouted, his voice echoing inside the tunnel.

From Iverson’s perspective, they both appeared to vanish into the darkness. When they reemerged, the man with the mayor was livid. “There should be something on the other side of this tunnel! Earlier, I saw a man disappear right in front of me. There’s only one explanation for that! This isn’t real! We aren’t real, God damn it!”

“Could you keep your voice down?” the mayor asked. “You’re going to start a panic.”

“It’s a little late for that, Mister Mayor! You should see what’s going on with your constituency. People have built refugee camps on the beaches. Hundreds of families are displaced. They’re afraid to go home. They’re afraid everything is going to dissolve. They don’t know what’s happening, but I do. I know the truth. None of this is real!”

The man was attracting unwanted attention, so Iverson took the mayor by the arm and escorted him into the darkness. From there, Iverson teleported them back to city hall.

The mayor fell into his desk chair and sat in shock. “He was right, wasn’t he? None of this is real.”

“It’s a copy of my reality. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re as real as I am,” Iverson said.

“Why did you come here? What do you want from me?”

“I have two options for you. I can start over. Everything will vanish and be replaced with something new. Eventually, that will dissolve, as well. I’m unable to make things last more than a few days without maintenance. If I start over, you’re existence will be gone. Everyone here will be erased. For lack of a better term, it will be genocide.”

“You said we’re just the result of a thought experiment. Do our lives even matter?”

For the moment, Iverson ignored the question and said, “Your second option is to allow me to fix as many people as I can and let things play out.”

The mayor sighed. “How should I know? It’s your damn thought experiment.”

“Everyone is going to vanish eventually; I can only prolong the inevitable. You should know that, before you were created, it was believed that people created here were not actual life forces. I’ve come to learn that you are sentient beings. Your lives matter.”

“But our fleeting existence will be filled with suffering,” the mayor said.

“I’ve observed more than just suffering. Heroes have been created here. That’s why I came to you. When you make a statement to the press. . . .” Iverson suddenly felt overwhelmed by emotion and had to stop talking for a moment.

“Go on,” the mayor said, filling in the silence.

“I want you to tell them something for me. I want you to tell them that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I want you to ask them for forgiveness.” Iverson could barely contain the emotion and was on the verge of tears.

“You want forgiveness? That’s why you came here? What would you do if your creator came to you, broken and crying, asking for your forgiveness? He says your life was a big mistake, but that he was really sorry. What would your response be?”

“I would be disappointed to say the least. But I didn’t say your lives were a mistake. I said I didn’t plan on things going the way they did. I didn’t mean for anyone to suffer. I’m no God. I’m just a man.”

“You’re a broken man. I actually feel sorry for you. This thought experiment is making you insane.” The mayor stood and went to sit on the desk in front of Iverson.

Iverson realized he was slouching under the weight of the emotion and shame, but he didn’t have the energy to sit up straight.

“If you’re leaving it up to me, I can’t allow you to wipe out our lives. We should be allowed to exist, however traumatic or however fleeting it may be.”

“That’s very honorable. I can help.”

“The Transamerica Building. The top floor is gone. Can you fix it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. As far as the forgiveness part is concerned, I don’t think the people of San Francisco are ready for that just yet. I think we should keep your existence quiet. An in-your-face God will just scare them. You’ll work in the background. We’ll just focus on fixing things for now.”

“Then please assure them that everything will be okay. Tell them not to worry. Make something up if you have to. Tell them the memory loss and spontaneous dissolving are being caused by a virulent strain of flu, but your scientists are currently close to a cure.”

“Sure. But you’re going to have to make me look good. By the time I issue the statement, everything has to magically go back to normal. If it does, I’ll tell them to thank their creator. We both win. Sound good to you?”

“Sounds fine,” Iverson said.

“First things first. I’m going to need my phone back.”

CHAPTER 16

Iverson had teleported back to the Rolls Royce, and he was now driving slowly up California Street, barely concentrating on the road. After several hours, he had gotten the city under control. The urgency was no longer necessary, but he was mentally still back with those people, the victims, the heroes, the martyrs, the criminals, whatever or whoever they were. He would be ashamed to admit to anyone but himself how much of an effect they had on him.

Everything in the city looked fine, so he headed back to Lombard Street. When he got inside the house, he found Beth watching TV in the living room. A newscaster was covering the mayor’s speech and was commenting on the impact it had on a traumatized city. As soon as Beth saw him, she ran into his arms.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Where’s Angela?”

“She’s in the office.”

“Mister Go never came and got her? He never called?”

“Not that I know of. What does that matter, now? We were worried about you. We saw what’s going on in the city on the news. It’s horrible.”

“I got it under control.”

“Tell me what happened. Did you try to help them?”

Iverson went over to the couch and sat down. He manifested himself vodka on the rocks and took a generous drink.

Beth went to sit next to him, laying her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what?”

“It must have been a terrible experience for you. You must feel responsible.”

Iverson sighed defensively, but he felt she had hit the nail on the head.

“What are you going to do? You can’t maintain the city forever.”

“I just need to keep the city corporeal long enough for them to expire. They shouldn’t last more than a day or two.”

“I’ve been around for three days now, Ryan. How do you know we won’t last forever?”

“I’ve seen people vanish. For some reason, some last longer than others.”

“Ryan. Have you considered what I said earlier? Why don’t you love me? Pour your emotions into us and I’m sure you could get things to last for decades. We could be happy living here.”

“This place is an abomination. If people come here, unimaginable horrors will take place. Look at what happened today. Sad part is that Go doesn’t even think the ephemera are sentient beings. He thinks they’re puppets from his mind. Do puppets cry when their mothers die? For fuck’s sake, they’re real people!”

“I’m so glad to hear you say that. You’ve come so far, Ryan. Don’t you see how you’ve grown since you’ve been here? You care for these people. You obviously care for me; otherwise I wouldn’t have lasted as long as I have.”

“You may be real, but you’re not my wife.”

“We’re your children, Ryan.”

“Give me a break!”

“You needed this day. I’m sorry you had it, but you needed it. You were a lonely man before you came here. You created a philosophy—a religion out of death because you were dead inside. You treated a robot like it had feelings and people like they were robots. You needed a kick in the ass. Today was a wakeup call for you.”

“Don’t hold back. Tell me what you really think of me.”

He drank the rest of the vodka, stood up, and went toward the bedroom. He didn’t wait around to see if she was going to follow him.

* * * * *

 Iverson lay on the bed having waking nightmares. He longed for the solace of sleep, anything to get away from this place. But there was no escape. Gods didn’t sleep. After an hour, he got up and went to look out the window. It was hard to take his eyes off that skyline for any length of time. For now, everything looked okay. But just to be sure, he pictured a perfect San Francisco in his mind and restored the city.

He wandered into the living room like a zombie and found Mr. Go sitting in the club chair. Angela and Beth were on the couch. He chose to sit at the dining room table, his back to them.

“Doctor Iverson. How are you?” Go asked.

Iverson grunted groggily.

“I heard you had quite a day,” Go said.

“Have you come to a new understanding of ephemera, Doctor Iverson?” Angela asked. “Are they real people?”

“I can’t get over how your daughter calls you ‘Doctor’. Hilarious,” Go said.

“She calls me Beth, but I’m technically not her mother.”

“I never knew my mother,” Angela said. “As far as I know, you’re exactly like her. If you like, I can call you Mother.”

“I’d like that, but I think that honor belongs to your real mother. Ryan and I have discussed it and he believes that people here in the Zone are only copies of real people. That would mean I’m not really your mother.”

Iverson sipped his manifested coffee and said, “They’re sentient beings.”

“Are they? Have you some proof my scientific team of over three hundred has neglected to find?” Go asked.

“Should have been here earlier,” Iverson said.

“Have you considered it may be time for you to take a break from the Zone, Doctor? Maybe you’re getting too involved.”

“Have you considered not turning this place into an amusement park for an unsuspecting public? What I went through today is only the tip of the iceberg. People will not be able to emotionally cope with this place.”

“I tried to warn you, Doctor. It feels real, but it’s not. No offense, Beth.”

She shrugged, but was clearly insulted.

Iverson took a drink of coffee, stood, and went over to Mr. Go. Go tried to keep from flinching as Iverson came at him like a linebacker.

Iverson grabbed Go’s arm and said, “I want to show you something.”

Iverson teleported them to Union Square plaza. He directed Go over to the Dewey Monument, an 83-foot column with a bronze figurine on top. The square base was covered with photos. Ephemera were using it as a memorial.

Mr. Go marveled at it. There were pictures of sons and daughters, spouses and parents, even entire families. He circled the base of the monument slowly, looking over each of the pictures as if he were looking at museum art.

“They’re doing this on their own?” Go asked.

“Of course,” Iverson said.

“Amazing.”

“In your mind, Mister Go, could ephemera show this type of sentiment if they weren’t real?”

“If you wanted them to they would,” Go said. “The Zone knows everything you know, Doctor. When you create something here, everything comes out. There’s no filter. Anything and everything you know about the human drama becomes part of your creation.”

Iverson took Go’s arm, grasping it tighter than was necessary, and teleported them to Ocean Beach. Thousands of makeshift tents lined the shore. This was a refugee camp.

“All of these fake people are afraid to go home. You ever heard of fake people being afraid?”

The sea was choppy and the ocean water was a brown color. A cold misty wind was chilling their faces. Ash was in the air along with the smell of burning wood.

“Doctor Iverson, you’ve created a tremendous fantasy here. But that’s all it is,” Go said, his body shivering from the cold. He fastened the middle button of his blazer and put the collar up. He rubbed his hands together, then formed them into a fist with a blow hole, and blew into them. “Mind if I warm it up around here?”

“Yes, I do. I made it cold so they would go back to their homes. They were told it was okay to go home, but they won’t leave,” he lied. He had made it cold for Go’s detriment.

“They’re going to freeze out here like this,” Go said.

“The cold is also taking their minds off the reality of their circumstances. I think they know their days are numbered. They know they’re going to dissolve.”

Go manifested a long winter coat with a fur-lined hood and matching gloves. When he pulled the hood over his head, he looked like he belonged in the Klondike. Iverson was more than a little annoyed Go was now warm. The man was impervious to justice.

“I’ve seen all this before, Doctor. You forget; I’ve been researching the Zone for several months. I’ve seen it all.”

“Then how do you know they’re not real?”

Go began to bounce on the balls of his feet, trying to get the blood flowing, to warm up. “Because they can’t create.”

“What does that matter?”

“I don’t know, Doctor. It just does. It’s part of what makes us human. The fact of the matter is that ephemera only last a matter of hours, days at the most.”

“A mayfly lasts about thirty minutes. Are they not real either?” Iverson asked.

“Even if they were real, their lives are fleeting. What kind of a life could they possibly have in the time they’re given?”

“So now you’re saying that the length of man’s life is what determines its value?”

Iverson now recognized Go with that hood pulled over his head. He was the fucking Grim Reaper.

“I don’t know, Doctor. I’m cold. What is it that you want? What would you like me to do?” Go asked.

“I want a formal invitation to your laboratory before the Zone is released to the public. I’d also like there to be an open investigation of your scientific methods and of your staff. That should take about one year. Keep in mind, the FDA takes longer to approve a drug. After that year, as far as I’m concerned, you can make the Zone a sovereign nation and make yourself ambassador.”

“Ambassador? Why not king?”

Iverson performed a sarcastic bow replete with a royal hand gesture.

“I understand what you’re saying, Doctor Iverson, and I respect it. I’m afraid there are extenuating circumstances.”

“What extenuating circumstances?”

Iverson could no longer stand the cold and was forced to manifest a jacket for himself. It was without a fur-lined hood.

“Imagine we took our time releasing the Zone, like you’re suggesting, and the Chinese government gets a hold of the technology. By the time the FDA says it’s okay to manifest a cheeseburger here, the Chinese will have already mastered the Zone, maybe even found a way to control it so that it’s theirs and only theirs. Do you really think we can keep this place a secret? I’m afraid the cat has already been let out of the bag. It’s like the discovery of the atomic bomb. The scariest thing at this point is that only one government has it. Why do you think I brought you here? I’ve given you a head start. You should use this time to understand this place. Worry more about adapting to it than guarding it.”

“That’s just great,” Iverson said. “Just great.”

“That’s the reality, Doctor Iverson. For better or for worse, the Zone is here to stay. Let’s hope everyone can live here peacefully.”

“There’s no peace here. It’s completely unstable!”

“I’m going to be honest with you, Doctor. I know what you think. I can see it on your face and I can sense it from you every time we’re together. You think this place is a nightmare. And you think that reality is going to suffer because of the Zone.” Go pointed a finger at him and said, “Guess what? You’re right. My scientists expect that the Zone is not only going to adversely affect reality, it’s going to annihilate it. Welcome to the apocalypse. The world as we know it is on the chopping block and there’s nothing we can do about it. Keep in mind that with every end there’s a new beginning. Mankind will survive, but in the Zone, not in reality. Yes, we could delay the release of the Zone, but not forever. The technology already exists; it’s only a matter of time before someone else discovers it. Our only hope is that we find a way to exist here, that we create a sustainable environment in the Zone. Think of us as pioneers. One day they’ll write about our difficulties in the new reality. I can tell you’re having a tough time here and I’m sorry for that. I should have insisted that you leave the Zone a long time ago, because the fact of the matter is that you’re emotionally compromised.”

“Oh, I’m emotionally compromised?”

“We’re in a place where we could live out our most extravagant fantasies and you have us standing on a beach in what feels like the dead of winter, in a refugee camp. Yes, you’re emotionally compromised. The positive side of your being here is that you’ve made your wife last for so long. It’s a revelation. You’re the talk of our community. You’ve given us hope. Mankind has a chance. Because of you, Doctor Iverson, mankind has a chance.”

Iverson turned and walked away from him. He began walking down the beach alone.

Shock was fueling his stride along the sand, keeping him moving. If he stayed in one place, it would overwhelm him. Was this really the end of reality? It seemed preposterous and horrifyingly plausible at the same time. Since he had first stepped into the Zone, he knew its overwhelming power would have a devastating effect on reality, but he naively thought he could stop it, shut it down. What Mr. Go had said made sense. They couldn’t keep it a secret. And sooner or later, someone else would stumble on to the technology. It was inevitable.

The Zone would so completely trump reality that it would render it obsolete. For a while some would try to hold on to the old ways. Maybe one generation would pass. But by then society would be so completely altered that trying to exist without the Zone would be dangerous.