Cathedral of Dreams Page 2

  “You look very beautiful today,” Keith said, settling into the start of his workday. Purpose was a wonderful emotion. It brought the realization that he was effective and necessary. Even though he recognized that his personality stepped into a new place when he was at work, it was okay with him. He suspected that there were actually several unique but complimentary personalities within him. The work personality was perhaps his most refined and familiar. No wonder, for he spent more hours at the Office of Goods and Services than he spent anywhere else in Newcity.

  “Thank you,” Maria said. “And you look dashing.”

  Keith nodded and placed his arms on the counter.

  Maria handed him a stack of paper. “Hard copy reports from maintenance and shipping.” She flipped down about half way. “The blue page starts the shipping reports. Could you deliver them downstairs before you start?”

  “Of course.” Keith always accepted a job where he got to go somewhere or deliver something. Although he enjoyed sitting in front of his terminal and shuffling through quality or maintenance reports, he rather liked the movement. He picked up the hard copies. The information would already be in the system, but they produced hard copies as backup, the Stack Printer ejecting neat bundles of reports all day. The reports would then be distributed by hand and eventually stored in filing cabinets in their individual offices.

  Maintenance offices were one floor down and Shipping was two floors below that. Keith decided to walk. After observing himself in the mirror that morning, he figured he could use the exercise.

  He left the offices and strolled down the hall, shoved on a large metal door and entered the lighted metallic stairwell. There was no carpeting on the floor, and ribbed metal strips ran across each step. The landing was long and wide, and several doors were set back from the open space just as the doorway he now occupied. He stood there for a moment, secure in the small, closed-in space around him. He took two steps and the landing opened before him.

  He walked down the stairs and stopped on the next landing. He took his time. A small sign announced the maintenance offices. Keith wandered across the landing and stood in the alcove for a brief moment before pulling the door open. The halls were empty. For having so many people in Newcity, there were a lot of places that appeared empty.

  Newcity, he knew, was at full capacity. Everyone understood that another building was going up somewhere. But most of those who lived in Newcity would never see the next residence. Perhaps some of the children he had seen would be transferred there.

  He delivered the paperwork to the receptionist in Maintenance without noticing or focusing on her or the offices. He had been there before and was rather businesslike in his communications. Back into the hall, through the door to the stairs, and he entered the next alcove. It felt good to stand in the small space, but he quickly made his way down to the next level. Just as he turned to go down the stairs toward shipping he stopped and glanced over his shoulder. A small, darkly dressed figure—a child?—hunched down into the corner of one of the alcoves.

  Keith's heart beat a little faster and the feeling of dread returned. He scurried down the stairs, while simultaneously turning his thoughts to something pleasant, the possible meeting with the woman from the Companion site that evening. It appeared to work. His nervousness subsided. At least he hoped that he had felt nervous. That emotion would not register as a threat. Yes, nervous. He had not expected to see anyone in the stairwell, especially a child. It wasn't dread, then. There was a difference.

  As with Maintenance, Keith quickly delivered the reports to Shipping. This time, instead of using the stairs, he traveled the long hallway to another courtyard—similar to the courtyard near his offices—and into the elevator. By the time he arrived in front of Maria again, he felt calm and satisfied that he had avoided another meeting with the Newcity Police.

  Chapter 2

  The apartment didn't feel the same when he returned home that evening. Nothing had been moved or disrupted, but the day had been long and the strange events had made him anxious and tired. He possessed a slight unease that the Police would soon arrive again, but quickly shifted his thoughts to prepare for the arrival of the Companion he had requested. Or he could cancel the rendezvous. He'd first double-check the system to be sure someone had responded to his request. If it wasn't too late, he could cancel or reschedule.

  He opened the terminal next to his bedroom door and passed his finger over the morning's selections. Using voice commands, he entered the Companion site and saw that someone named Nellie would arrive in twenty minutes. Because of his anxious feelings, he checked to see if there was time to cancel, but there wasn't. Well, that gave him, he looked at his watch, nineteen minutes to prepare for her arrival.

  He imagined that she had already left her apartment and strolled slowly toward an elevator. She would be a little nervous, but eager as well. Nineteen minutes, though, meant that she must be traveling from clear across Newcity. Out of curiosity, Keith entered the site to retrieve her stats.

  A photo of a dark-haired woman with a broad mouth and full lips appeared. He asked for a full view. He read that she was five foot six inches tall and weighed one hundred and twenty-eight pounds. She had a pleasant shape, and shoulder-length curly hair that fell near her high cheekbones. Her complexion was dark and her eyes brown. He cocked his head when he realized that she was of African descent. That was not so unusual in itself, but the fact that she bore the appearance of an old race was unusual. He couldn't remember the last time he noticed a person bearing hereditary features. Few Newcity residents exhibited the appearance of any particular nationality at all. Over the years, the merging had eliminated such a separation. The world had become one people.

  He had fifteen minutes to prepare.

  Would she have eaten? Probably not, so he shuffled through the terminal to find suitable nourishment for the two of them. Instead of preparing something, he ordered rice and vegetables along with two sauces, a beef byproduct and a chicken-flavored tofu. That should take care of it. He closed the terminal and side-stepped into the bathroom. Now that he couldn't cancel, he was getting into the mood. It would be nice to have someone to talk with. He brushed his hair and wrestled with a clean shirt. He changed into shorts, then changed back into slacks.

  Five minutes.

  Stepping into slippers, he wandered toward the mirror and looked at his teeth. He grabbed a sonic and pushed the toothpaste button for a split second. Running the brush through his mouth quickly would freshen his breath and put a fast shine on his teeth. He rinsed just as a light knock came to the door. The food?

  Unless his watch had de-synched it shouldn't be Nellie. He had two more minutes.

  Although the doors can't be locked, entrance was forbidden unless invited, even for the Police, who would only proceed to a forced entrance if a resident were potentially dangerous. Keith had only once, as long as he could remember, heard of such an event on the news.

  In the living room, he said, “Come in,” then quickly turned to the kitchen counter where he expected to receive the dinner he had ordered. He stopped when the door only cracked open.

  Through the opening, Nellie shyly poked her head. “It's me,” she announced in the softest voice that Keith had ever heard. She was perfect. Not too noisy, pleasant to look at, and apparently respectful of his space. The only downside was that she came by early instead of on or slightly after his requested time, nonpunctual.

  “Welcome,” he said. “I ordered a light dinner. I hope you haven't eaten.”

  “I haven't.” Nellie stepped around the door as though sneaking into his apartment. She carried a small overnight bag, and lifted it to show him. “In case,” she said. “You may not want me to stay.”

  “You may not decide to,” he said politely.

  “True.”

  Nervous feelings returned, but that was part of the experience. A stranger, for all practical purposes, was a stranger. Yes, everyone in Newcity was documented and chipped for errone
ous emotions, and that provided relative safety, but he and Nellie knew nothing about one another and had never worked together, so…

  “I'm Nellie,” she said as she advanced with her hand out.

  There was something aggressive about her, even though she acted shy. The way she approached him while looking into his eyes belied her initial shyness about entering the room. Perhaps it was confidence, which was rather exciting to Keith. He took her hand and pulled her close to give her a quick hug. She smelled nice, but different, fresh in some way. Her odor reminded him of real plants you could get on one of the shopping levels. Flowery, but also moist. Her shoulders were firm and her body athletic. He hoped she wasn't displeased with his body's softness.

  She pulled away and lowered her head, giving their eye contact a rest.

  Another knock came to the door.

  “That's the food,” he said.

  “I'll get it for you,” Nellie said. Right away she turned and took the few steps to the door and opened it. “I'll take that.”

  After the door was closed she brought the sack to the counter and set it down.

  “You didn't have to open the door,” Keith said.

  “Habit,” she said. “Where I'm from, you don't let people just walk in.”

  “You don't? Where are you from? What level?”

  She squeezed her lips together and squinted her eyes. “Five,” she said.

  “Five? I've never been … ah, there, before.”

  “Not very many people go that far down, but there are humans there. You work in the Office of Goods and Services, you must know that almost everything in Newcity comes from the outside.” She raised her eyes and stared into his.

  He looked away, hesitated, then began to pull the food out of the sack. “Not everything. Manufacturing is done inside. Do you work in manufacturing?”

  She laughed, “No. But let's talk about you and your job.”

  “Why?” he asked. “And how do you know where I work? It's not on my profile.”

  “I have friends who repair the computer systems. I had one look you up.” She accepted a plate of rice and pointed to the meat sauce.

  Keith poured sauce over her rice and selected the chicken tofu for himself. He motioned for them to sit down. As they wandered toward the couch, he said, “Why would you want to know where I work?”

  “Discussion topics,” she replied.

  They sat near one another without touching.

  “Well, then. My job is rather interesting. I document and organize everything that enters Newcity, everything that is manufactured here, and all the service needs. I'm not the only one working there, of course. The work is split up. My particular job focuses on the services. For instance, when plumbing or electrical work is needed, I document what work was completed and what materials were used. I pass that information along to ordering – also part of the Office of Goods and Services – and follow up to be sure that we are stocked for the next service need. It's fascinating work, sometimes. Interesting to see what's going on ‘on the inside,’ as they say.” He was glad she asked about his work. Talking about work allowed him to feel important and accomplished.

  “Do you ever get service information about security issues, like the entrances or exits from Newcity?” she asked while focusing on her food.

  Keith sensed a planned direction in their conversation and hesitated.

  Nellie looked up at him and smiled. “I'm just interested in the breadth of your responsibilities. It sounds as though you're an important man.” She cocked her head with intrigue.

  He remained silent, pushing rice with chicken tofu sauce into his mouth. She had asked an odd question. Security concerning entering and exiting Newcity was a sensitive subject. Only a few of those in his office had access to those records. He happened to be one of those few.

  Keith had viewed a movie one time that involved an undercover policeman who pried a criminal for information then arrested him. His earlier precognitions had led him to the thought that the police would arrive yet again. Was she a member of the police? Should he lie and say that he has nothing to do with the services pertaining to security, or just tell her that they are restricted areas of conversation? As an undercover policewoman, did she have the authority to arrest him for lying? Regardless, she probably knew the answer to her own question already.

  “You don't need to answer that question,” Nellie said. “I can see that it bothers you.”

  “I am restricted from talking about some areas of my work,” he said.

  She waved her hand and shrugged her shoulders. “No matter. I was just curious.” She shifted so that her leg touched his. She leaned in. “You belong to any groups?”

  Keith put his plate on the side table. “I used to. A movie group. We'd sit together and watch movies twice a month and then talk about them, their meanings, the symbols of violence, the difference between what we watched and where we live now.”

  “Older movies, then?”

  He shook his head. “Who knows when they were produced? Most took place in Newcity, but a few were from the outside. They were scary. No violence control.”

  “Those people aren't chipped,” she said.

  “How do you know?”

  “I've seen them.”

  “How? What do you do that you'd have contact with people outside Newcity?” He leaned forward and turned toward her. He met her eyes again and saw a glint of excitement in them. “Come-on, tell me.” He smelled the fresh scent again and imagined it to be from the outside, a wild place, one he had never seen.

  She laughed. “You don't want to hear about what I do. It's nothing. Not important like your job. I could easily be replaced and no one would know.”

  “I would know,” Keith said before thinking about it. His eagerness turned to fear for a second. He tried to cover up what he'd said. “I meant that, if we were to become friends or wish to see each other again, I'd know if you were gone.”

  “That's sweet,” she said, and leaned in to kiss him.

  He kissed her as well and lost touch with his fear. It turned into excitement.

  Nellie stretched over him and set her plate on the side table with his. From that position, she moved very slowly and brushed against Keith as she settled back into her seat. Her hand rested on his side and her body pressed against him. She kissed him again.

  Wrapping his arms around her, Keith bent to kiss the softness at the base of her neck. Her quiet voice entered his ear as she said, “Shall we move into the bedroom or would you like to finish dinner?”

  Keith recoiled a bit. “Let's talk a little more.”

  “That's right, you wanted a shy woman.”

  He gave her a questioning look.

  “My friend,” she said. She placed both hands on his thigh and moved in close to him. “What would you like to talk about?”

  “You never said what your job was on the fifth floor.”

  “I don't work on the fifth floor, I live there.”

  “Then?”

  It felt to Keith as though she tucked her shoulders in just a bit before answering. “I'm a plant handler.” She became still, apparently waiting for his reaction.

  “Oh, my… You go outside,” he said. “That's dangerous.”

  “Not like you might think,” she said. “Most of the time, I help with the selection of items. It depends on freshness. How long they'll last.”

  “Flowers?” Keith said, breathing in her scent, which made more sense to him now.

  Nellie smiled and shook her head at him. Her chin pushed up. “That is the best part,” she said.

  He pulled away so that he could see her face. It glowed with a sense of happiness or satisfaction. He couldn't decide which it was. “I bet it is,” Keith said. He relaxed and found that he smiled with her. He reached toward her. She was not an undercover policewoman after all. He had nothing to be concerned about. He touched her cheek with is palm and drew her near. “Maybe we should go into the bedroom,” he said.

 
; He knew that she allowed him to lead her into the bedroom, but it didn't matter at the moment. He liked her confidence, and very much liked the way she smelled. There was something wild about it, free. He imagined her working outside amongst the non-chipped laborers, their emotions unchecked and un-monitored. Perhaps that was why she was so fit.

  He watched as she removed her blouse and bra and got excited seeing her firm shoulders and breasts. It made him self-conscious as he slipped from his clothes and ducked under the sheets.

  Nellie turned away – ah, the shyness revealed – as she finished undressing. Her body had a sheen to it that appeared to ripple and flow like water as she moved. She was not awkward at all; every movement appeared to be controlled. Even her hair appeared to do what she wanted, slipping over her cheeks as she bent to pull back the sheet, sliding slowly over her bare shoulder. On her forearm was her only blemish, a tiny scar he had not noticed before.