SIXTY-TWO

Kenna made her way across the parking lot, favoring her braced right leg just a bit. It would be a long time before she’d heal completely. Until then, she’d follow the physical therapy regimen her doctor recommended and she’d do it in a real hospital environment like this one, not in a VR chamber.

Up ahead, she watched people enter and exit the revolving front door, some with flowers in hand. A few wheelchair patients sat outside in the sunshine, afghans tucked around their laps, friends and family hovering, keeping close watch.

As Kenna crossed the small street that separated the parking lot from the hospital itself, she heard laughter over the unmistakable grinding of a garbage truck. Two giant trucks pointed opposite directions sat blocking the entire width. The drivers leaned out their respective windows in animated discussion, elbows braced on their doorframes.

Two other men busied themselves with picking up trash piled on the ground next to the overloaded dumpsters. Kenna stopped in her tracks.

One of the guys noticed her. About thirty years old, he was trim and handsome beneath the smudges and sweat. He swung an overstuffed bag into the back end of one truck and waved hello. “Hey,” he said, showing white teeth that gleamed super bright against his dirty face. He tossed a careless look over his shoulder. “You like watching men work, do ya?”

“To be honest,” she said, “I’m just looking at all those Flaxibars.” Chuckling, she laid a hand against her purse. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many in one place.”

“Yeah.” The guy set his hands on his hips and surveyed the stacks of unopened snacks. “What did the idiots buy the things for if they didn’t like ’em?” The corner of his mouth pulled up on one side, “But I guess I’m no better. Last week I picked up a case of Flaxibars myself. Couldn’t get enough. Today”—he made a face and pointed to moldy vegetables spilling from a ripped bag—“I’d rather eat that.”

His buddy yelled, “You planning to do any work today, Tommy-boy?”

Tom’s smile widened and he shouted back. “Can’t you see I got better things to do here?”

“I should be going,” Kenna said.

“So soon?” Tom said. “I get off at three. Give me an extra hour to shower and shave—I clean up pretty good.”

“I’m sure you do,” she said with a smile, gesturing toward the hospital. “But I’m here to visit a friend.”

He winked. “Well, you know where to find me,” he said with a wry grin. “’Bout this same time, every week.” He waved and went back to work amid his buddy’s good-natured complaints about slacking off.

The sight of all those discarded Flaxibars made Kenna’s pain feel like a badge of honor. With a sigh of contentment, she continued her trek to the front door.

Inside, the hospital’s antiseptic tingle and chilly air enveloped her as she headed for the elevators. She pressed the button for eight.

But when she got to the floor, room 812 was empty. The bed pristine, unslept in.

Kenna spun, panic kicking her forward, charging toward the nurses’ station. As she passed a small visitors’ parlor, she caught sight of a lone figure seated in a wheelchair. She skidded to a stop.

“Jason!”

He looked up and smiled. His dark eyes crinkled at the corners—coaxing Kenna to grin in return.

“You’re up!” she said.

“Where else would I be? Can’t wait to get out of this place.”

Kenna sat in a blue vinyl chair next to him, serious now. “How are you?”

“They’re holding me for observation. Worried I’ll start hallucinating or something.” His expression tightened. “What about Patrick? How’s he doing?”

“He’s in the psych ward at Saint Constantine’s across town. Mallory’s with him.”

“So in the scenario…they weren’t…?”

“They were both virtuals. Just like we figured. Thank God, they weren’t real. But Patrick’s got a long, tough trek before he’s back. It’s a good thing his family’s there for him.”

They were silent a long moment.

Kenna suddenly remembered. She opened her purse. “Say, I brought you something.”

When Jason leaned over to peek, she moved to shield her bag. Digging her hand inside, she grabbed the plastic-wrapped item and brought it out like a magician producing a bouquet of fake flowers. “Ta-da,” she said.

When he saw the Flaxibar, his eyes lit up. “How did you know?” he asked, tearing it open. He took three fast bites, filling his mouth with the crunchy snack, making Kenna cringe.

“How can you stand those things?”

Cheeks full, he smiled. Then winced. “My brain thinks it should still hurt to swallow,” he said. “Don’t know how to convince it otherwise.”

“Time,” she said. “It’ll take time.”

He took another, smaller bite. “Thanks,” he said around the mouthful.

“If you want more, believe me, I can get them for you cheap,” Kenna said. “People are dumping them by the caseload. In fact”—she grinned at him—“if I hurry, maybe I can snag a few cases before the garbage guys finish back there.”

“Ha, ha.” He took another bite. “I’m starving.” His eyes met Kenna’s, and he seemed suddenly hesitant. Swallowing, he licked a crumb off his lip. “What about the queen bitch?”

“Celia survived. She’s in custody, along with a few other Virtu-Tech executives,” Kenna said, watching him. “I didn’t kill her, but God knows I wish I had.” Her hands fisted, and she worked hard to loosen them before continuing. “Regardless, she’s out of commission. Her former minions are proving eager to turn on her in exchange for leniency.”

“Trutenko?”

“He’s providing all the information he has. Completely turned on her.” Kenna explained how Trutenko had helped the dissidents save Patrick and the mission. “Tate’s dead but I didn’t kill him, either.” She shrugged thinking about how close she’d come. “When he came in to fight us, he was wearing an envoy implant.”

“Where did he get one of those?”

“Black market, and probably defective.” Kenna shrugged again. “Definitely not calibrated properly.”

“Geez,” Jason said, finishing off the last bite, grimacing with each swallow. “Didn’t he know how dangerous that was?”

“Maybe. Either way, he’s gone and I’m glad. I just wish we could have nailed him before he killed Vanessa.”

“You know that for sure?”

“Yeah,” she said. “He wasn’t particularly careful when it came to killing people.” Kenna pulled out a second Flaxibar.

“You’re a good partner,” Jason said, reaching for it.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“What about Stewart?” Jason asked. “I got the impression he invested everything in his AdventureSome franchise. What will he do now?”

Kenna made a so-so motion. “Stewart’s taking it well, all things considered. The losses of Charlie and Vanessa are still too fresh in his mind for him to worry about himself at all. He’s a smart guy; he’s convinced this is a sign for him to develop new technology himself but this time make it incorruptible.”

“Like such a thing exists,” Jason said. He tilted his bare head in a thoughtful way. “I’m kind of disappointed, actually.”

“Why?”

“Well,” he said, “with all that the dissidents accomplished—with everything we did to help them—it looks like we put ourselves out of a job. I was just starting to get used to you.”

“Going forward, we won’t have the same jobs we had, that’s for sure. Maya managed to erase all the technology that supported Virtu-Tech’s proprietary information. The quality of VR that’s left is like what we had when we were kids.” She chuckled softly. “The news is filled with people complaining. They’re furious and disappointed to have lost their favorite toy. Little do they know how close they came to losing a lot more than that.”

“So I shouldn’t whine then, should I?” he asked.

She wrinkled her nose. “No, you shouldn’t. We’re young. We’re healthy and talented. We’ll find our way.” Staring out the window, she thought of Charlie. Her throat caught. “We’ve all made sacrifices to protect our freedom,” she said. “And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

◊

For Immediate Release

In a surprise announcement, media giant Virtu-Tech, once virtual reality’s most popular entertainment provider, has confirmed that the company is going out of business effective immediately.

Worldwide, VR fans are reacting to the news with shock, disappointment, and anger. Already, other firms—small players whose technology could never match that of Virtu-Tech’s—are stepping up with vows to their customers to re-create all that was lost with the giant company’s dissolution.

Claims by Virtu-Tech executives in their Washington, DC, offices that last week’s fire in Chicago caused permanent damage to the corporation’s systems have been met with skepticism by experts in the field of virtual entertainment.

More likely, as someone close to the situation who spoke on condition of anonymity reported, Virtu-Tech’s top executives are likely to be charged with assault on a grand scale. Employing heretofore undisclosed technology, our source alleges that these executives knowingly inflicted beta testing on unwitting consumers despite the fact that several of Virtu-Tech’s early subjects died or were rendered permanently brain damaged as a result of exposure. The scope of damage done may never be completely known.

Investigations are ongoing.