Getting back

CHAPTER EIGHT

"You've given notice?" Sanford asked, mystified.

"Quitting," Daniel confirmed to his workmate. "You have to keep quiet about it until after I'm gone."

"They're just letting you go?"

Indeed they were, Daniel thought. Luther Cox had expressed neither surprise nor interest at the news: I hope it's for the best, he'd said remotely. We'll fill in for you whenever they call. "Didn't even feign regret, I'm afraid."

"But why?"

Why do you do? Daniel thought to himself. Because it committed himself. Because it cut his ties. Go, go, go. "I'm going away," he replied.

"An opportunities transfer?"

"I'm going to the wilderness, Sanford. Taking a break from the routine."

"You're quitting your job to go on vacation?"

"It's sort of open-ended. Unclear when I'll get back. It's not really a vacation, it's… a kind of lifestyle change. I want to do something different."

Sanford thought about this. "When do we fight over your scanner and disk repository?" he asked, ever practical, scanning Daniel's desk for other valuables.

"I'm on staff until the expedition starts. Then it's yours."

"So when's that?"

"I don't know. We're not allowed to know."

"What?"

"The surprise departure is part of the wilderness experience. You prepare, wait, they call, bang. You're off."

"That's weird. Off where?"

"To the desert."

"Really?" Sanford had a fondness for Nevada.

"To a wilderness desert, not a casino desert."

"Oh. Which one?"

"I can't say. I'm not allowed to say. I don't really know, actually. It's all set up by an adventure company. Some new outfit you've never heard of. Neither had I."

"Jesus, Dyson, this is pretty offbeat. For what?"

"To explore."

"Explore what?"

"I don't know. Nobody does. That's the whole point."

"What's the whole point?"

"To have an adventure. To go do something risky where the end isn't preordained. To trade security for excitement, comfort for experience, entertainment for self-exploration."

"You sound like a commercial. Or somebody who's been brain-scrubbed. Let me get this straight. You're leaving Microcore to go on some expedition that starts who knows when, going to who knows where, for who knows how long, for who knows what reason?"

Daniel shrugged. "It's not for everyone."

"It's not for anyone with common sense. Have you totally lost your mind? You're going to give up a good job…"

"Oh, please…" He looked amused.

"… to go to some desert you can't even identify? And pay money to do it? Why, because you don't like the looks of Harriet Lundeen? Because you can't make it with Mona Pietri?"

"Because I'm being buried here, Sanford. Buried alive. You are too."

"Better than being buried dead out in some desert."

"You paid to go down the Mekong…"

"That was different."

"How was that different?"

"I didn't quit my job. They set up camp, set down camp chairs, and set out the booze. We had an itinerary, not to mention sonic-guard to keep out the insects. Women came along. It was fun, dammit. That's what was different."

"Different? Or predictable?"

"Here's a news flash for you, Dyson. I like things predictable. Most people do."

"Such as this job?"

Sanford glanced around the monotony of Level 31 and nodded solemnly. "Such as my pay. Predictable as clockwork."

"There's got to be more."

"There isn't any more. That's what you don't get, or won't admit. You're a romantic and life isn't. Life is just… life. You want green, go to the park. You want animals, go to the zoo. You want sunstroke and snakes, go to the desert."

"No. I'm going to find more. I'm going to find it, and bring it back, and show you. Shove it in your face."

"A rattlesnake?"

"Freedom. Self-discovery."

His workmate rocked back in his seat. "You'll discover things all right. Discover that hunger and fear don't make you free."

"Maybe that's the point."

"Suffering?"

"To overcome it."

Sanford laughed and threw up his hands. "Go! Wander in the desert. Have visions. Bring back a prophecy; my last fortune cookie was a bore."

"I'm just tired of being safe."

"Well, I predict you'll get tired of being unsafe in about fifteen minutes." He shook his head, looking at Daniel speculatively. "There's some other reason, isn't there? Something that pushed you into this. What? Some kind of trouble? A woman?"

"There's no woman."

"Some muscle-thighed rock spider with breasts the size of coconuts?"

"There's no woman. It's just me. For me. I mean, don't you ever get tired of the routine here, Sanford?"

"Of course I do. Everybody does." He stood up and gazed across the top of the cubicles. "And I'll tell you the one thing you'll get for your money. It will make Level 31 look pretty damn good."

That night he called her again. Not because this was about Raven, of course, but because… because he wanted her to know. That he'd signed up. That they'd taken the man she thought they wouldn't take. So there.

On the sixth ring the circuit transferred and a voice came on line but the video picture was grayed out. "Hello?" A man's voice. Damn.

"Is Raven there?"

"Who's calling?"

"A friend."

"Your name?" He could hear clicks on the line.

"I'm just a friend. Look, could you put her on, please?"

"I need your name."

More funny sounds. Were they recording? "My name is none of your damn business. Let me speak to Raven."

There was a long pause. Then, "Miss DeCarlo is no longer here."

"What?"

"Miss DeCarlo is not here."

"This isn't her number?"

"She's left the city for an outdoor excursion."

He stopped at that. Had Raven gone too? "Do you know when she'll be back?"

"No. Do you wish to leave a message?"

Well there wasn't much point in that- if she was off on an Outback Adventure. Had he triggered her like she triggered him? "Who is this?"

"Do you wish to leave a message?"

More clicks. Was this guy a boyfriend, or something else? A mechanical monitor? "I want to talk to her before she goes."

"That's impossible."

To talk? Or was she already gone? "I want a forwarding number."

"Do you wish to leave a message?"

"There's no number?"

"Do you wish to leave a message?"

He drummed his fingers, considering. "Yeah, I want to leave a message. Tell her I called."

"We'll do that."

The connection went dead.

Daniel stared at the phone a long time. They hadn't asked his name.

Room upon room, level upon level, link upon link. A descent into an underworld in which the passwords and riddles and locks were always changing, identities shifting, allegiances unclear. Not just cyberspace, but a cyber pit of mysteries. He clicked and probed, searching for himself: could he find any reference to Outback Adventure? His search engines revealed no matches. Information on Australia had been wiped, except for rumor and uncertain memory. Coyle was right. It was ignorance that made wilderness.

Disbelieve.

Spartacus again, like an electronic nag. Have you decided, Daniel?

"I'm going away."

Away? Where?

"To the wilderness."

There is no more wilderness. Except here.

"I'm going to a special place."

Your place is here. With us.

"I can't do your truth cookie. I don't know how and besides, they've made me. I'm dangerous to you now. They found out about my hacking and they watch me. So… I'm going."

There was no response.

"I'm sorry. I know this GeneChem stuff is- "

There's nothing in the wilderness. That's why it's called wilderness.

"I think I can find something there."

What?

What indeed? Raven? "My reason for being."

Your reason for being is here.

"Goodbye. I have to go now."

The truth is inside, not outside…