Daydreams In The Land Of The Magic Pill - CHAPTER 8
My 2022 novella serialized in nine parts
CHAPTER 7 RECAP: In Chapter Seven Beatty tells Rayford what happened at Panacea. Rayford is angry they are trying to steal Beatty from him and promises to talk to Mr. Em. Later that night while walking home from the grocery store Beatty is confronted by a woman who claims to know Rayford. She says she can help him escape Panacea’s threats in exchange for information. They meet later at The Crawlspace and we learn the woman, Luella, contracts for a company called Insight Integrations, a competitor of Bios (the company that makes Upthink). She says they are willing to get Beatty out of trouble with Panacea if he gives them all the information he has on the device he pitched to them. After the meeting, on the walk home, Beatty and Mar Vel vandalize one of the cameras of a government security system called Observer. Before they leave for home, they watch the Guard come in and round up people wandering the streets in Civic Square.
Something felt off the minute he reached the top of the stairs at Humaneyes the next morning. Alora and Brick, who were following a few steps behind, stopped beside Beatty and took in the scene along with him.
Normally, when they arrived to work in the morning their coworkers would be bustling around, grabbing coffee from the makeshift kitchen at the back of the room, getting their stuff settled. The air would hum with conversation. Computers would be making pings and beeps signaling start up. Then Ray would emerge from his office and yell, “Ok, assholes. I’m not paying you to socialize. Get to work!”. Everyone would smile and chuckle knowingly then make their way to their desks to start their day.
Today though, they were met with dead silence. It was so quiet Beatty blinked twice to make sure he did actually see people sitting at the desks. Their fingers were moving across the keys, mouths a humorless straight line. Lysander, who had the desk closest to the stairs was staring intently at his screen. It was obvious he could feel Beatty’s gaze on him, but he didn’t acknowledge him in any way. Beatty looked over at Alora, who took it all in with similar concern. When she noticed Beatty looking at her, she tapped his arm and pointed to a spot on the ceiling.
“The Eye of O is upon us,” she muttered.
“What the...?” he whispered in reply. There was a camera mounted there that hadn’t existed yesterday.
“Sander, what’s going on?” he asked, walking over to his coworker’s desk.
Lysander didn’t look up, although by the twitching of his face it seemed like he was struggling to ignore him. Why couldn’t they talk to each other?
While they were standing there, two more coworkers mounted the steps behind them.
“What’s going on?” asked Imogene, the new girl.
Alora shook her head. “We’re not sure. We just got here too.”
Beatty was anxious to step any further, as if whatever was going on with the others might be infectious. People were acting like this was a hostage situation or something. He looked behind him to catch his other coworker, Westley, looking confused and annoyed.
“You going in or what?” he asked gruffly, weaving his way around the small group and stomping toward his workstation. Just as he made it about halfway across the room, Rayford opened his office door.
The person who stepped out wasn’t Rayford though. It was a woman in a minimal grey pantsuit, middle-aged, bleach blonde, with bland facial features and pale skin like she never stepped out in the sun. She was tall, six feet probably, with an ample physique that made her all the more intimidating. Her expression was grim and unreadable as she took in the group of them. When she caught sight of Beatty, she honed in.
“You’re late,” she barked.
“No we’re not,” he said defiantly. “Where’s Ray?”
She didn’t answer right away. Her face remained eerily still, like a cheap robot trying to process a question. A moment later she reanimated.
“Ray decided to move on. I will be his replacement for now.”
Beatty’s gut lurched.
“That makes no sense,” Beatty argued. “This is Rayford’s business. He’s not gonna just up and leave out of nowhere. It doesn’t work like that.”
The robot woman quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, it doesn’t work like that? How would you know? Would you like to compare MBAs, or are you just a hobbyist?”
Beatty tilted his head warily. “If that’s what you learned for your money, I’d say you’ve been ripped off.”
Their new boss gave him another one of her enigmatic stares and ignored his comment, walking out into the center of the room to address the entire group.
“I suppose I should provide a review of the rules for our new arrivals,” she began, uttering her first hint of emotion: disdain.
“As the rest of you already know, I’m going to be making a lot of changes at Humaneyes. I’ve been brought in by Panacea to streamline this company and maximize profit.” She paused and scanned the room. “New boss, new rules—that is our mantra.”
Panacea didn’t own Humaneyes. They had no right. Ray would have said something if he was planning on selling to them.
“Everyone is now obligated to arrive a half an hour before their shift begins. All morning food must be consumed before arrival. Your workstations are being monitored by new software that will clock you in the moment you begin working and dock credits if you are not reaching your productivity goals at any point during the day. If you attempt to copy any data from your hard drives I will be alerted immediately and you will be charged with stealing company property...”
Beatty glanced at Alora who was observing it all with wide, panicked eyes. She looked like she was about to collapse. He walked over and grabbed her hand, leaning his shoulder against hers for support. She exhaled a shuddered breath and shifted her weight against him.
“We also have a new security system installed to make sure you are all adhering to maximum efficiency. Be warned, there is nothing more sinful here at Humaneyes than stealing company time. If you are observed doing anything that appears to be outside the scope of your current project, you will be penalized and it will be noted on your record. Three citations and you will be dismissed. There will be no private conversations amongst staff that doesn’t pertain directly to our work here, and no consuming food outside of your 15 minute lunch break. I will require twice daily reports on your progress; you will see an icon on your desktop linking to the two-page report form. All major and secondary decisions must go through me before they are approved. Any employee that finalizes a decision before it is cleared by me will incur a penalty. This too, may eventually lead to your dismissal without warning.”
“Damn,” Brick muttered, quiet enough she couldn’t hear. “If I wanted to work in zombie-town I would have just applied at a PrivaTec fulfillment center. At least they get 30 minutes for lunch and there aren’t spiders everywhere.”
She paused for a moment, allowing her face to adjust from a scowl to an unnervingly artificial smile.
“That said, it is also important that we maintain a culture of positivity here at Humaneyes. Your creativity and clever thinking is the magic this company runs on. It’s the inspiration for our name, in fact. Going forward I want you all to harness that incredible power you have and supercharge it. I know you are capable if you just believe in yourselves. And because I believe strongly in your talents, this month we are challenging each Research and Development Team member to produce three pitches per week rather than one. The Virality and Promotions Team is also going to double their Repost and Upvote goals. As an incentive, the staff member who reaches their department goals earliest and most consistently for the month will receive a five credit Unigoods gift card as a token of my appreciation.”
Beatty looked over and noted the look on Lysander’s face right then. It was pure, restrained misery. Five credits was about enough to buy a small bag of cheesefood, at most. It was more insulting than giving them nothing.
“The late arrivals will have fifteen minutes docked from their pay. Please go to your desks now and begin working.”
Alora, who had been silent the whole time, squeezed his hand hard then let go.
“We weren’t late,” she insisted angrily, her voice quivering with rage.
The woman, who still hadn’t told them her name, whipped around. “Excuse me?”
“We were on time,” she repeated loudly.
“Were you paying attention just now?” the woman replied condescendingly. “You need to arrive a half an hour early. You should have already been at your desks.”
“But that wasn’t the rule before. How are we supposed to know what the rules are if you haven’t told us them yet?”
“All proper professionals know to arrive to their jobs early so they can start work on time. That is your mistake, not mine.”
“But we were here,” she growled. “We had at least ten minutes before we were supposed to start. If you hadn’t started talking about rules we would be working now.”
Something passed over the woman’s expression then was quickly suppressed. “Alright. You can go then,” she shrugged.
“What?”
“Go. You’re dismissed. I expect you to vacate your living allotment by this evening. You can leave your key with one of your roommates to bring to me in the morning.”
Alora gasped. Brick uttered a weak “no”. Beatty felt his heart stop.
“But she won’t have any place to sleep tonight,” Beatty reasoned, gently as he could. “Can she have another day?”
“No. She should have thought of that before she broke the rules,” the woman offered coldly. “Not only was she late, but she is wasting company time by engaging in activities outside the scope of her current projects.”
“But…” Beatty began, hoping to make her realize how absurd that is, but was cut off instantly.
“You!” She gestured toward Eeep with her head. His eyes shifted from his monitor and scanned the room before he decided she was talking to him. “Escort this girl out. Make sure she doesn’t damage or steal anything on the way.”
“What is there to even steal?” Alora muttered somberly, low enough so the boss couldn’t hear.
“Everyone else, get to work...now!” With that she disappeared into Rayford’s office.
“What are you gonna do?” Brick asked. Alora’s eyes looked vacant. She didn’t respond.
Beatty stared at his friend until she finally lifted her gaze to his.
“Ping Mar Vel the minute you’re out of here,” he whispered, trying to move his lips as little as possible. “He’ll find you a place. I’m gonna try and act normal, stick it out, then I’ll join you tonight.”
He waited until she nodded then added, “We’re leaving town first thing tomorrow.”
* * *
There wasn’t much for him to pack when he got back to the apartment that evening. He scanned the floor of his bedroom, grabbing a few of his favorite clothes out of the heap and stuffing them in a fraying nylon duffel bag. He heaved the dresser aside to reveal a cut square of drywall he’d made just above the baseboard. Pushing in on the loose panel, he slid it sideways then fished around for the small box he’d hidden inside the wall. All his most valuable possessions fit into something that had once held a pair of child-size shoes. He slid the box into his backpack for safekeeping, in case he had to ditch the duffel somewhere and run.
Sounds of Brick arriving back at the apartment filtered through the door. They hadn’t spoken since that morning—hadn’t dared with all the new cameras potentially watching and listening—and Beatty was wildly curious what he was thinking, what his plans were. The main reason Beatty even stayed at work was so the new boss wouldn’t catch on that he was planning to skip town. He made sure to send in both of the tedious progress updates she requested, making sure they were extra dense and laborious for her to read. He also sent her polite messages asking for her approval of two meetings between him and the team in Virality and Marketing the following day. He never left his desk, skipped lunch, and made sure to never stop working. He wanted her to think he’d been spooked by Alora’s firing and was willing to do whatever it took to keep his job.
Still, his breath hitched as he passed her office around eight that night. He couldn’t help fearing that he’d been made, that he’d reach the bottom of the stairs and there would be goons from Panacea waiting for him out on the sidewalk. It took him a minute or two to step out the door. He even peeked first, making sure the coast was clear.
On the short walk home every doorway had a potential threat lurking behind it. When he arrived at the apartment, Alora and Mar Vel had already cleared out, the only sign of their presence earlier were the keys left on the kitchen table.
He was already in his bedroom when he heard Brick step into the hallway, followed quickly by a few tentative raps on the door.
“It’s open.”
Brick let the door swing wide, but stayed in the hall. For a generally happy guy he looked sullen, defeated.
“Man, that was a rough day,” he sighed.
“No joke. Are you gonna try and stick it out?”
Brick shook his head vigorously. “Naw, man. What reason do I have to think they’ll treat me any different than Alora? I’ve got people who can help me. No need to stew in those bad vibes.”
Beatty nodded while zipping up his pack. “I’m glad you’ve got some place to go. Things are gonna get rough there without Ray.”
“What do you think happened to him?”
Beatty’sstomach lurched. He was trying really hard not to think about it. “I have no idea, except it probably happened because of me.”
“You think?” Brick asked in surprise. When Beatty nodded Brick gave him a pained look. “That sucks. Sorry, man. Ray seemed like a decent guy. This whole situation sucks.”
“Yeah,” Beatty agreed, continuing to pack so Brick wouldn’t notice the tears welling in his eyes. All this talk of Rayford getting in Panacea’s crosshairs because of something Beatty did or told him was too much right now. Ray was the closest thing he had to a mentor in his life and there was nothing he could do to help him. Regardless, he needed to focus on getting out of that apartment now. He had less than an hour before curfew started.
“Most likely somebody from Panacea is gonna come looking for me when I don’t show up in the morning,” he speculated, slinging the duffel over his shoulder. “I suggest getting out by then or they might try and force you to give up information that you don’t have.”
Brick’s eyes widened. “Right. Good thing I never really unpacked. I’ll wait a few minutes after you’re gone and head out myself.”
The two struggled to meet each others’ gaze. Goodbyes were awkward when it was someone you barely knew.
“Well, take care,” Beatty said, offering Brick a hand. They shook. “You may have been my roommate for less than a week, but I’m already gonna miss that chili.”
Brick mustered up his first grin of the evening. “Thanks man. Maybe I’ll find myself a job cooking somewhere.”
Beatty nodded and smiled as Brick cleared the doorway for him to pass.
A few steps across the kitchen to drop his key with the others and he was closing the door on another chapter of his life. He didn’t dare look back.
The place he was meeting Mar Vel and Alora was a ways away. He didn’t want to take the bus because the newer ones often had cameras installed. The only way to not be tracked was to travel on foot, specifically via the back roads. His destination was somewhere between Civic and Potter Squares. It would take about a half an hour.
A few cars drove by him as he made his way down the side road near his apartment. Each time one passed he could swear it slowed a bit, rattling his nerves.
If they really cared that much they would have picked you up already, he reminded himself. Right after they nabbed Ray.
Thoughts of Rayford being hurt, or possibly murdered, invaded his thoughts again.
Maybe they were mad he confronted them about trying to steal one of his employees? Or did I tell Ray something he wasn’t supposed to know?
Mr. Em never let on that their conversation was confidential, but people like him rarely played by the rules anyway. For all Beatty knew it was another test, to see where his allegiances lay, and Ray was just collateral damage. He should have kept his mouth shut and figured things out on his own. Maybe then Rayford would still be here.
Regardless of why, he was sure Panacea was behind it. Despite Ray’s surly nature and questionable ethics, he did care about his employees and his company. He wouldn’t just hand it all over to Panacea in less than twenty-four hours. If Beatty could get in touch with Luella maybe she’d have a way of finding out what happened to him. Not now though. He’d need to wait until he was with Mar Vel and Alora. He couldn’t take the time a stop now.
Ten minutes has elapsed and he’d made some progress. He hadn’t been this far beyond Civic Square on foot in forever, usually opting to take the bus that traveled down a different road. The next stretch was entirely unfamiliar to him, tucked between the back of a string of low-slung brick buildings and a weedy vacant lot. Only one of the street lamps was still working and the street gutters were clogged with thick layers of decaying leaves.
Despite his duress, the artist in him couldn’t help but admire the vast expanse of virgin brick as he passed. He slowed a bit as he walked along, painting the wall with his eyes. If only he’d found it sooner. The spot was perfect; there were no cameras anywhere.
The sudden rattle of a chain link fence caused him to startle. He stopped in his tracks and spun around to see where the noise had come from. He scanned the street behind him until it revealed a dark figure standing completely still just beside the far end of the fenced lot across the way.
He barely had time to process this when the sound of an engine emerged off in the distance. His biggest fear had finally materialized. He was being followed.
He felt his heart attempt to leave his chest just moments before he took off running. As soon as he did, headlights lit up his surroundings and an engine roared from someplace far behind him. He searched his surroundings looking for convenient alleys and places to hide. There were no other people. He was completely alone. This was exactly what they’d been waiting for.
He tried to resist the urge to look behind him. He could feel the dark figure—like a shadow of death—silently gaining on him, just seconds away from being close enough to reach out with the hand that would be his undoing. He worked to convince himself that if he didn’t look back the shadow would stay just out of reach. The vehicle, however, was unmistakable and gaining, it’s engine’s rumble now entirely flooding the space between his ears.
He finally gave into the urge to glance back and saw the unmarked black van less than a few yards behind him. It’s sliding side-door was wide open with bodies presumably waiting just beyond, poised and ready to haul him inside as soon as they were aligned.
Never during all his anxious deliberation did he really think he wouldn’t escape. This couldn’t possibly be the way it all ended, over knowledge he’d gained against his will, knowledge that they didn’t want him having now. It was insane. Who did they think he was? Why did he matter so much? If they’d just left him alone none of it would have had to happen.
Although, maybe the fact that he didn’t matter, that he was no one, was what made getting rid of him so easy. The realization caused panic to flare in his chest.
Every atom in his body refused to submit. He picked up speed, moving faster than he thought possible, propelled forward by pure adrenaline and will. The next chance he got, he slipped down a tight alley between a rusted out dumpster and a rotten wood fence. As soon as he slipped past the long, reeking, open top container he heard tires screech out on the road.
Shit, shit, shit.
The alley spit him out into a small paved parking area connected to a narrow service road that ran along the backside of two strings of three-story townhomes. There were plenty of places to hide back there if he needed to—piles of debris everywhere, some he had to climb over and others stacked up against the sides of buildings. There was a hollowed out car chassis parked next to one of the staircases leading up to the first floor. Beatty wondered briefly if any of the houses were open, but didn’t want take the time to stop to check.
He tried to listen for voices or footsteps at his back. If he was being chased they would be there with him by now. But all he could hear was his own panted breaths and the tap of his boots on asphalt as he sped toward the end of the block. Maybe they had decided to give up?
As he got closer to the mouth of the alley he glanced behind him. There was no sign of anyone following. He slowed to a jog, creeping to the edge of the last house on the right and peeking around the corner. His head whipped right then left. The street looked empty, just another nondescript residential road lined with half-lit streetlamps and overgrown trees. He pulled his hood up and stepped out onto the sidewalk, standing there a moment and waiting for Panacea’s minions to reveal themselves.
The road remained still and silent. The only engine sounds were a far-off hum. He slid the duffel handle down his arm, tumbling the bag from it’s perch on his shoulder until it dangled from his hand, then began walking.
After a moment, a smile bloomed on his lips, followed by a quiet chuckle. Maybe it was all coincidence? Maybe those people were just trying to mess with him, completely unrelated to Panacea or anything? There were gangs that kidnapped people, although they usually targeted someone who actually had something they wanted. Maybe it was a case of mistaken identity?
He stepped out into the road to cross at an intersection and a car on the perpendicular road flicked it’s headlights on. Beatty put up and arm to block the high beams from wrecking his vision. They were so bright he couldn’t make out the type of vehicle they were coming from, but within moments the engine revved and it maneuvered out into the road. Something about the way they did it made Beatty’s gut sink. Instinct told him he was in trouble. It wasn’t over after all.
He bolted down the sidewalk. The vehicle followed. Suddenly there was another set of lights coming toward him, behind which the silhouette of another large vehicle hovered ominously.
I’m dead, he thought. It’s over. I was so close.
There was no place to go. Every alley was blocked by fences or walls. So he kept running straight ahead, closer and closer to the second van in front of him. From behind he could hear a door sliding on its tracks. A low voice hollered unintelligibly. Beatty’s thoughts turned to liquid—sloshing around, swirling. He had no plan but to keep running until they stopped him.
He felt something hit him in the back. It didn’t hurt, but it was intense, like a shockwave of air. Then, a beat later, his body began to betray him. He could feel the pulse radiate outward through his torso, down his limbs, up his neck and along the sides of his skull. As it traveled, his muscles stopped working, tensing as the signal passed by, allowing him a brief howl of panic before his face and neck were no longer under his control. He felt himself pitch forward, launched by the momentum of running followed by a sudden lack of strength to maintain it. Unable to brace for impact, he knew his skull was about to shatter, and the fact that his reflexes would no longer comply filled him with momentary horror.
But he never made it all the way to the ground. Someone caught him, using their body as a buffer. They grunted and staggered as he made impact. He felt their knee dig into his side, just under the rib cage. The pain was awful, but he had no way to express it. Their hands held his upper arms like vices, trying to stop his fall from knocking them both over. They were saying something to him, but the words came out muffled. He felt like his head was wrapped in cotton. Then he was being turned. The person slid their arms under his armpits from behind. Then another person was there. They had his legs by the ankles. They were carrying him toward one of the vans, moving quickly. He heard loud banging, more shouts. They were putting him in the back. Someone was dragging him inside.
Doors slammed. He barely made out the word “Go!” hollered from somewhere in the darkness. The vehicle took off, swerving as more banging radiated from the walls around him. His body ached with a depth he had never experienced before. It reminded him of that moment when your limb falls asleep so bad and your circulation starts to get going again, except the feeling doesn’t subside and it is over your entire body. It made him want to leap out of his skin.
If his brain had been working right he would have assumed he had been shot; maybe they had hit his spine and messed with his nervous system. But whatever happened had muffled his thoughts—in the same way it had muffled his hearing. No matter how hard he tried to grasp at logic he found himself experiencing everything without comprehension.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the words hanging in the air around him started to come into focus. It started out disjointed—can’t, building, behind, lights—before actual sentences emerged that he could understand. They were talking about how to get out of there. Then someone was tugging at his body trying to get him to sit up.
“It doesn’t look like he’s wounded,” a low, husky voice noted from behind. “What the hell did they do to him?”
“Beatty,” a different voice said, choked and anxious. A face hovered in front of him, but his eyes wouldn’t focus. “Beatty, are you there? Move something if you can hear me.”
Beatty tried, but nothing would move. He wanted to blink desperately; his eyes were getting painfully dry. If only he could get them to close his eyelids for him.
“What the hell did they do to him?” the first voice repeated, with more panic this time. Alora, his brain told him. The voice was Alora.
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen this before.”
Mar Vel? How did they find him?
A calmer third voice chimed in. It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “I heard rumors someone was working on a weapon that was kind of like a stun gun, but worked a little different. Something to do with nerves and electricity, not needing to make contact, a longer lasting effect, non-lethal. I wonder if that’s what this is?”
Whoever they were, he liked that they said “non-lethal”. It would suck to die now.
“Damn. They’re still behind us. Hang on.” Another voice was speaking loudly, someone up front.
The back of the van had no seats so they were all either sitting, laying, or crouching on the floor. The conversation stopped as the van swerved and tossed. He was leaning against someone who was trying to keep him from rolling around and busting himself up. The chaos lasted maybe a few minutes, but it felt like the longest few minutes of Beatty’s life.
“Ok, I think we’re good,” the driver announced with a sigh of relief.
The others loosened their grip on him just as he managed to blink again for the first time. The small gesture flooded his entire body with pleasure. Blinking was amazing. He wanted to scream with happiness, but all he could manage was a long hiss of air. It was enough to grab Mar’s attention.
“Hey! He made a sound! Beatty, can you hear me?”
Mar had Beatty propped up between his legs with Beatty’s back leaning against his chest. When Beatty gasped, Mar shifted him to one side to get a look at his face. Beatty blinked and released a hiss of air again, hoping that would be enough.
“Maybe he’s coming out of it,” Alora theorized. He couldn’t turn his head to see her, but from the direction of her voice he figured she must be sitting somewhere in front of them.
“His eyes are moving,” Mar said excitedly. “Hey man. You’re ok. We’ve got you. You’ve been stunned or something. We think it’ll wear off.”
Just those words—we’ve got you—seemed to ignite something in him. He found himself able to quirk his lip into a vague smile. Mar caught it immediately and beamed back.
“Yes! Fucking paralyzed and he’s already smiling,” he teased. Beatty noticed Mar’s eyes tear up a little.
Beatty opened his lips slowly. It felt like his whole mouth had been treated with novocaine.
“Yooow neber be rib ov me.”
Despite the words being barely intelligible, it was enough to make Mar crack up laughing. He could hear Alora join in with an amused snort just as someone climbed around the passenger’s seat.
“Hey there. Welcome back,” Luella said, crouching in his line of sight.
“Looe...wa,” he said slowly and awkwardly. He still didn’t have enough feeling in his tongue to get his Ls right. “Hou…?”
“Mar Vel told me what happened at Humaneyes. When I met up with him at your rendezvous point he said you were walking there alone. I was nervous so I had him start tracking your tab so we could come pick you up.”
Beatty had forgotten they’d shared tracking on each other’s tabs. They’d set it up years ago, but had never had to use it.
“Maybe now you might be more willing to take us up on our offer?” she asked.
“Fime. Jus gif me a thecon to...” He pointed to his face and she nodded in understanding. He needed to be able to fully feel his tongue before he before he could explain anything.
Ten minutes later he was mostly back to normal. His limbs were still sore and weak, but his mouth and brain seemed to be working again.
“Hey, Luella?” he called out. She had gone up front again to chat with her cohort who was serving as their driver. At the sound of being summoned she turned around in her seat then made her way into the back so they could talk more easily.
“Do you have any idea what happened to Rayford?” he asked, anxious to know if there was any word.
She scowled. “Not yet. We are trying though. My client was not happy to find out he’d gone missing.”
“Before you get started talking about the device…” Alora cut in.
Luella pivoted out of the way so Beatty could see her.
She paused a moment then blurted, “Eeep is the one who ratted you out to Panacea—told them about us, about LUCID. He decided to mention it while he was escorting me out.”
Beatty wrinkled his nose in disbelief. “What?! Why?”
She sighed, closing her eyes and resting her elbows on her knees while putting both hands to her forehead. “He said they promised him a bunch of stuff...a new tab, a 500 credit bonus, even dangled the possibility of a raise although I doubt that was anything but bullshit. He swore he didn’t know what they were actually using the information for. He says they told him they were vetting you for a promotion.”
“So you’re telling me they weren’t tracking me through Observer after all?” he asked rhetorically then rolled his head back and forth, shaking it in disbelief. “I liked Eeep. He is dense, but still. Why would he believe anything those guys tell him?”
“I think you’re giving him too much credit, Beatty,” she concluded. “He acts dense, but there have been times…he’s done things that seemed off to me. In hindsight, I think there’s a chance he may have been informing on all of us.”
“You think he’s a plant?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know what I think. He seemed genuinely unnerved by what was going on. I mean, why else would he tell me about informing on you? But I don’t entirely believe his story either. I get the feeling he’s a climber.”
Eeep did not seem ambitious to Beatty at all, but clearly there was a lot he didn’t know about him.
“Whatever,” he said, letting out a long puff of air, “I won’t see him ever again anyway.”
He tried to imagine that confrontation. A guy like Eeep could put him in the hospital if he wanted.
“So what’s our plan now?” he wondered.
“Right now I need you to give me everything you know about the plans for this device Panacea is building,” Luella insisted. “In the meantime, we’ll try and figure out where exactly you’re going.”
Beatty’s eyes darted around the back of the van. “Do we have any food?”
Luella grabbed the bag slumped next to her and rifled around a bit before pulling out a Vital Bar. “Sorry. It’s all I’ve got.”
Beatty snatched it quickly. “I don’t care at this point. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”
“Damn. Really?” Mar scoffed. “No wonder you’ve been looking kinda skeletal lately.”
“Having your life threatened will do that to you,” he explained, his words already muffled by the dense chewy substance that tasted like fake apricots and sawdust.
He began addressing Luella’s demands, interspersed with small bites of Vital Bar to appease the ache in his gut.
“I didn’t have time to download any files for you like I planned, but I did learn awhile back how you might be able to break in and get them.”
Luella looked disappointed at first, then intrigued. “That’s great actually, if it works. It will further hide your involvement.”
He tried to recall as many details about the vulnerabilities in Humaneyes’ system as he could remember. Beatty didn’t know all that much about these things really, and was relying on a conversation he’d had with a coworker awhile back—someone who has lots of experience breaking into servers. Hopefully it would be just enough for Luella’s people to use.
He followed that up by summarizing the basics of what Panacea had planned, his conversation with Mr. Em, and the layout of the building they met in. Luella had her tab set up to do voice to text and handed it over to Beatty to read over once he finished. He skimmed it quick looking for any errors, then she returned to her seat to send the information to whomever was going to take things from there.
Mar Vel was sitting a few feet away the whole time, engrossed in typing on his tab. Alora was sitting directly across the way, eyes closed, arms and head resting on her knees. She was dressed for the road in a ragged black sweater and red jeans. Her fuchsia-streaked hair was whipped back in a basic ponytail.
Wanting to get her attention, he stretched out his leg to tap her foot.
“Hey,” he greeted softly, assessing her with worried eyes. “You ok? You don’t seem like yourself.”
She looked sullen, but managed to throw him a weak smile. “I’m hanging in there. Still recovering from this morning.”
Beatty nodded. “What made you decide to go after the new boss like that?”
“I…” she began, then seemed to catch herself. “I wasn’t really thinking, to be honest. I’ve dealt with people like her before, let them control me. I promised myself I would never put myself in that kind of situation again and I think deep down I knew I wasn’t going to be able to work there anymore. I was so mad and figured, why not speak up for once?”
He didn’t respond right away, trying to come up with the right thing to say. He noticed her hands were balled in tight fists.
“If you ever need to talk, you know I’m here right?” he offered.
She gave a strained, but genuine smile. “Thanks Beatty. Not right now, but maybe someday. Right now I need to push past it. At least until we know we’re safe.”
Despite the fact that he wanted to help her, he understood. Once they were settled, wherever they were going, there would be time to open up old wounds. They had protection now. They were going somewhere Panacea couldn’t find them. Somehow, despite everything, they might actually make it.