Orpheus | Installment One – Ascending

“They’ve just made love
in a clearing in woods.
She dozes lightly,
naked on the flattened
fragrant grass.
Orpheus rises; he’s restless.”

– “Orpheus and Eurydice”, by Gregory Orr, 1993

Ascending

“There’s the bullshit you know that you know; the bullshit you don’t know and know you don’t know; and the bullshit you just think you know but really don’t.”
― Rick Yancey, The 5th Wave

She ran her fingers on the screen of her ultra-thin, foldable tablet and frowned, then closed her eyes and wished the letters, numbers and symbols she had been staring at would just cease to swirl. At least behind the safe shelter of her eyelids. She was tired and, more than anything else, she was nervous. And it was ridiculous. She was never nervous when it came to her job. She was good at it. She always knew what she was doing and why.

This was different though. Different workplace. Different city. Different life. It was incredible how people could simply tumble into another existence without even realizing it. And tumbled into another existence she had.

She didn’t know if she liked New York City more than San Francisco, where she was born and had lived up until about a week earlier. But she had no choice: she had to go. Needed some fresh air – if that was how you could call the artificially purified, heavy air of the metropolis. Her parents had watched her with sad eyes when she had told them she would find another job, someplace else. She knew they were not happy with her decision. But it was her, who had found out her fiance was a cheater and a liar, not her parents. It was her, who thought she would get married until the man who was supposed to take care of her shattered her dreams and her heart. Mom and dad could stay in San Francisco, in their beautiful penthouse surrounded by highly expensive natural greenery. She couldn’t. Couldn’t even stomach to see the places that reminded her of her failure, let alone live in them, pretending nothing had happened at all.

A couple of days later dad had come up with that job offer in New York. He didn’t like to know that her little girl, her only daughter, was out there all alone, running around in a big city so far from home, and it was obvious he had pulled some strings. Electron Enterprises was one of the many companies he had worked for, during his long career as a Geneticist, before he retired. The CEO, Sydney Bankmann, was still a good friend of his.

“Lisa, you can work for them. They need someone with your experience.”

She had tried to ignore his slightly condescending look – it was coated in sincere love, after all. Dad adored his little princess.

“Dad – I’m twenty-seven. What experience are we talking about, here? If they need a Career Counselor, I’m pretty sure they can find the best hotshot in town.”

“Sweetheart, you are talented. You know that. Your resume speaks for itself. Your achievements do, too. They want to hire you because you are good at what you do… Not because Miss Bankmann and I are old friends.”

She had watched him, raising an eyebrow, not really buying his words. She was insecure that way. Behind the tough girl veneer, she was soft. She had always been ultra-sensitive. Perhaps her father was just telling her the truth, or maybe he was just sugarcoating his interference in his daughter’s life. In the end, it hadn’t mattered. She had moved to New York, leaving Maxwell Kane and his fucked-up idea of how a relationship should work behind. Fuck him, and fuck the little slut he had been “seeing privately” while Lisa was busy arranging what she thought would be the perfect wedding. The perfect culmination of their once-in-a-lifetime love story.

Bullshit. Perfect love only existed in books – sometimes movies, and not even all the time. What a fool she had been, believing something so out of fashion could still exist.

And now she was done.

How funny was it that, today, she would hold a group counseling session about workplace wellbeing? What was wellbeing, after all, if her only moment of distraction from the gloomy thoughts occupying her mind 24/7 had been that guy swimming naked in the pool, on her first night at the new condo?

Lisa snorted to herself and shook her head, as she distractedly reviewed her notes once again, then glanced at her watch. Twenty more minutes of peace and then she’d have to put on her professional mask.

Her mind wandered back to the guy in the pool.

It had been so… odd. But not in a bad way. Everything Lisa knew about skinny-dipping was encased in those old movies from the old world. She had never seen anyone doing it for real – until a few days earlier.

It was late at night and she couldn’t sleep because she was not used to the new apartment – which the company was paying for her. Since they appreciated her – or her father, more probably – and all. Instead of lying down in bed and waiting for the sweet oblivion to come, she had started to pace back and forth, glancing down at the lower levels of the city. Scary stuff happening over there, she had been told – but still so tempting, for her. Lisa was the kind of girl who wanted to see things, go places. It didn’t matter how dangerous they were – there was a part of her that had always been fearless.

Then something had caught her eye. Talk about seeing things.

On the external area of the condo, a couple of floors down, on the wide terrace covered by the glass ceiling where the pool was, there was someone. A guy. Lisa could barely see him, as he was moving around the artificial bushes by the poolside and the lights were out. But the neon signs flashing on the vertical surfaces of the nearby buildings created a kaleidoscope of lights the man could not hide from. Flash, flash, flash. He was there, then he wasn’t, then he was again.

Lisa had squinted her eyes and had stepped closer to the glass wall, feeling safe in the darkness of her apartment.

The guy was taking his clothes off – first his t-shirt, then his boots and socks, finally his black pants – and she could tell those were leather pants. Lisa’s face had suddenly felt very hot and her hand had come up to her mouth, but not for a second she had averted her gaze. In some ways, it was like watching TV. And she wanted to know what flavor of crazy her neighbors were – just in case.

Well, the guy didn’t seem crazy. He looked like someone who just wanted to go for a swim, someone who didn’t care at all that their fucked-up, very repressive law prohibited any public display of nudity. He had just stayed there, removing his underwear too, standing naked before the chlorine water for a moment. Lisa had wondered if it was safe to jump into that pool – that blue water looked so artificial. Then she had blinked, and the guy suddenly was in, swimming underwater, as smooth as a dolphin. The neon signs kept flashing, granting her a pretty good visual of his body – toned and muscular, lean, nervous, almost as flickering as a flame. Once again, her face had felt flushed, and she had let out a long breath. She had hoped he couldn’t see her.

She had stared and stared at him, shamelessly – and for the first time since her breakup, the mental image of Maxwell Kane had disappeared from her mind. She no longer saw his blond hair. She no longer saw his grey eyes. She no longer saw his sweet, deceiving smile. She no longer felt the touch of his hands on hers. She could no longer evoke the long holosex sessions they had shared, when she had thought everything was perfect. He was gone. The guy in the pool, for that short and yet endless moment, was all that remained – his reckless attitude, his caramel skin, his long dark hair. And that perfect butt.

“Get a freaking grip…” Lisa had mumbled to herself, when the young man finally reemerged from the water, offering her a full frontal view of his naked body. Her eyes had widened.

Well – wow.

Alright. Maybe NYC wasn’t that bad, after all.

“You’re going fast, today.”

Mike chuckled.

“I do nothing fast, Maddix… Unless I’m required to.”

Maddix Hoover smiled at him and his lower lip twitched. Out of the corner of his eye, Mike noticed the nervous tic and smirked – sexual allusions made his friend feel uncomfortable. And that was just one peculiarity that made his favorite colleague so special – he had some verbal tics, too. Like saying “I mean” every two minutes.

“No – I mean. You seem extremely focused. Which is weird.”

“It’s not weird. I’m always focused – unless I’m bored. Today I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just…” Mike kept working, his eyes staring at the screen now, focused on the soundwaves moving and intersecting in 3D, colors mingling in fascinating, sparkling rainbows. “…I have a pretty good idea of how this voice should come out.” He could see through the transparent display, but nothing seemed able to shake his concentration.

“Are you replicating a voice you know?” Maddix pushed his glasses up his nose. “I mean – is it from a real person?”

“I don’t know. It’s a voice…” Mike’s fingers moved on the touchscreen, creating waves, as if he was swimming. “…I’ve dreamed about.”

“A dream? Dreaming is not real. Not scientific at all.”

“Yeah? Well, keep harvesting that ear, Madd… You’re the genius scientist, here. I’m just a humble workman.”

Maddix laughed.

“You don’t really mean that.” It sounded a bit like a question – because he wasn’t sure. Maddix was not so different from Echo, after all. Sarcasm wasn’t really his thing.

“You’re right. I don’t. I know I’m an artist, with sounds…” Why should he not tease his nerdy friend? Mike bit his tongue playfully and smirked. “And this voice, buddy… You should have heard it.”

“I could not have. You didn’t hear it for real either. It was just a dream. So, technically, you didn’t hear anything – I mean. That’s a fact. Now, the moment you will replicate it with our equipment, then it will exist. And I will hear it.”

Mike rolled his eyes.

“Dreams are very real, Maddix. The fact that you can’t touch them means nothing. Think about voices – you can’t touch them either, but they exist, nonetheless.”

“You can’t touch them, but you can physically hear them, Mike. That makes them real. Dreams are just imagination. They don’t exist in real life.”

“See? That’s where you are wrong. First of all, from a purely neurobiological point of view, even a basic EEG shows brain activity during the REM phase, which is when dreams usually occur. Besides, during a typical lifespan, an average person spends about six years dreaming. Six freaking years, Maddix… You can’t tell me that’s not real.” Mike kept the conversation light and casual, loving to engage his friend in subjects that always messed up with his very rational, scientific mind.

“I agree with you that the REM phase is a very real thing. That much, I can say.”

Mike giggled.

“Don’t use that condescending tone with me…”

This time his eyes left the screen, and he spun on his chair, turning toward his colleague. Maddix, sitting at his hyper-technological desk, was looking back at him.

“I have no clue what you are referring to, Mike. I am just saying that it is unknown where in the brain dreams originate. We don’t know if there is a single origin for dreams or if multiple portions of the brain are involved. We don’t even know what the purpose of dreaming is, for the body or the mind. So – what I mean to say is that I have nothing scientific to base my opinion on. I only have assumptions.”

“And therefore you assume that the thing doesn’t exist, right?” Mike was being sarcastic.

“Not in rational terms, no.” Maddix smoothed down his white laboratory coat. Another tic. He was getting nervous. Mike pushed it a little further – because it was so much fun to make Madd squirm in his seat as he grilled him.

“Dreams are essential to our physical and emotional wellbeing. Just like love,” There. He had thrown the bait. Now he just had to wait for his friend to take it.

Maddix blinked.

“You are getting confused, Mike. Love – I mean, that, is not rational either. Not scientific at all.”

“But it exists, right?”

“I have no experience of that. I wouldn’t know.”

“Bullshit.” Mike chuckled. “You love your parents. You love your sister. And you adore me because I’m your best friend.”

Maddix, xenobotanist, geneticist, computer engineer, genius mind, now blushed like a fourteen-year-old virgin. Mike knew for a fact that he was not fourteen. He was not sure about the virgin part, though.

“Love is… well – biological models of sex consider it a… mammalian drive.”

This time Mike burst out laughing. He just couldn’t help it.

“A mammalian drive?” He repeated. It was too much.

His friend shifted in his chair, starting to look uncomfortable.

“Yes, very much like hunger… or thirst. So, you know, from a scientific point of view, the experience of love should be divided into three partly overlapping stages: lust, attraction, attachment.”

“Right, let’s talk about that, then. What about lust, Madd? Did you ever experience that feeling of sexual desire?” Mike winked at him, playfully. “Because that’s exactly what I felt while dreaming that sultry female voice I am now working on. Pure, absolute, undiluted lust.”

“No, I have never experienced lust, Mike, you know that. We talked about it. Plus, you know that lust would involve sex, and sex is dirty and dangerous and just so… inherently wrong. That’s why we have much safer alternatives, today, both to conceive and to… ah, release some tension. Which is something I don’t feel the need to do, anyway.” He smoothed down his lab coat, once again. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to get sick. But I hope I will find a mate to share attachment with, someday. With that, I mean sharing a home, parental duties, mutual defense…”

“You are one boring dude.” Mike spun on his chair again and resumed working.

“Maybe so. You talk a big game, Mike, but told me that you’ve never been… in love, as you call it. So you wouldn’t know, either. This conversation is pointless, really.”

“Probably,” Mike agreed, “But sure as hell I know what lust is, at least… Thank goodness.”

“I know you do. But you should be careful, my friend. That endless quest for love of yours might get you in trouble someday.”

“Yeah, well… I don’t care. Unlike you, I don’t think that something dangerous is necessarily wrong, you know?”

“Fair enough. If you ever experience love, let me know, then. I would be glad to find out more about all those distinct neural circuitries and behavioral patterns associated with that… romantic style.”

“Yes, Maddix. I will let you know all about those amazing chemicals my brain will release, if and when I finally fall in love… hormones, dopamine, norepinephrine, serotonin, oxytocin, vasopressin, NGF and all that other good stuff.”

Silence fell, and they resumed working, each focused on his own task.

“Mike?”

Oh, here it comes, Mike thought.

“What’s your ethnic heritage?”

Yes. Maddix was also fixated on genetics and genetic heritage. And he would ask the same thing again and again, even when he already knew the answer. Just like in this case.

“I’m black, Madd. Just like you.”

“Yes, I know that you’re black. I can see that. But what about your ancestors?”

How many times had they talked about this? Well, OK.

“African… Native American… Some even Caucasian… I think. A nice melting pot. But you know how many files got lost during the last century or so… Who knows, really.”

Maddix stayed quiet. Mike knew his friend was more of a control freak than he was. Whenever he would feel uncomfortable, he felt the need to be showered with real facts. Statistics, numbers, clear and verifiable information. It helped him cope with the many irrational things he didn’t understand – mainly belonging to the emotional sphere of human beings. Just like love. Not that Mike was an expert. Like Maddix had stated, Mike had never been in love. Only in lust.

Mike Jackson wondered if, after all, and despite all his big talk about the subject, love was not something that had gotten lost too, together with the past, and the multitude of things it contained.

As his hands resumed moving on the huge transparent screen in front of him, Mike thought about the quick meeting he had had with Sydney, after arriving at the lab, earlier that morning. It looked like Maddix was not the only one who had noticed how spiritless he was, lately. Miss Bankmann – the CEO of the company, of all people – knew, too. Was he so easily readable? He had to work a little harder on his poker face.

Denying the truth was pointless. Mike knew that, had he had the financial means, he would have already hauled ass and moved to one of those nice, little cloned planets orbiting around the Earth. Perfectly functioning tiny replicas of what their pre-ecodistaster world looked like – but destined to be inhabited only by groups of selected, very wealthy people. Ventos Prime, Laconda, Imago – whatever gem of that small collection would have worked for him, really. But Mike could not afford that. He was just a middle-class guy, with a middle-level salary. So he stayed. And got bored.

“Mike – do you feel the need to change department? Or is it this company that is not working for you anymore?” Sydney Bankmann had watched him from behind her immense desk. The artificial lights in the painfully white room made her look even more evanescent than she already was.

She was a beautiful woman in her late forties, her skin so pale to appear almost diaphanous, her titanium white hair and steel grey eyes granting her an alien appeal that couldn’t be ignored. The ice queen, the queen bee, the empress of the hive. Mike knew many of his colleagues lusted after Sydney’s dominatrix charm, but she seemed indifferent to anything. To anyone. She reminded him of Elizabeth I of England, the Virgin Queen: cold, charismatic, apparently celibate and only committed to her reign – or, in this case, her business. Just like in the Queen’s case, “virgin” was a term applying more to Sydney’s legal status than possible sexual abstinence, but Mike had never seen her interested in anything but her work. So he couldn’t say. She was, however, a free woman, powerful, not betrothed, not bound to, not possessed by any man.

“Not at all, Sydney. Why do you say so?” He had just stood there, perfectly still before the desk, and had not sat in the chair his boss had so kindly offered.

“Because you look… distracted. Is everything alright?” She had studied him with those unusual eyes of hers.

Mike had sighed.

“Yes, all is fine. Yeah. I’m not distracted… Just tired. I need to decompress… I guess.”

“Do you want me to give you some time off?”

“No, no,” he had shaken his head. “It’s OK. I’m sorry, Sydney. You’re right. I should just rest more in my free time, but it seems like I can’t sleep well. It has nothing to do with my job, really. You know how grateful I am for the opportunity you gave me… back then, after all that had happened.”

She had waved her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture, all the while rising from her chair.

“Don’t even mention it. You are one of the best technicians we’ve ever had. Whatever favor you think you were granted, you paid me back… in abundance. Nobody creates voices like you do. They all sound so beautiful. So real. They’re like music. None of our clients has ever complained.”

“Thank you.” Mike had nodded his head and had clasped his hands behind his back. He and Sydney had an informal, quite friendly relationship, but she was still his boss and some deference came naturally to him.

Sydney had walked around her desk, her tall, thin, nervous frame once again almost evanescent under the neon lights.

Tick, tick, tick. Her heels on the shiny white floor as she stepped closer.

“Anyway… I just want you to know that you’re having group counseling, today.”

Mike’s eyebrows had sprung up.

“I’m having what?”

“Group counseling. Followed by two one-to-one sessions with the same counselor. It’s mandatory.”

He had nodded his head.

“I understand.”

“I know you don’t like to feel forced to do anything, Mike,” Sydney had smiled and, suddenly, had appeared very human. Almost motherly. “But please understand that the wellbeing of my team is always my number one priority. And workplace counseling, although short-term in nature, provides an independent, specialist resource and precious information for the management. Precious information that would otherwise be unavailable.”

“Why the one-to-one meetings, though, may I ask? Are you keeping an eye on me?” He had smirked, but was only half-joking. If Sydney had realized the serious undertone in his voice, she had kept it to herself.

“Not at all. I know I don’t need to. You know how much I trust you, Mike. But I want to give a selected group of employees the chance for a free, confidential service that can be considered as my duty of care. So… look on the bright side – it’s not a punishment. In fact, it’s a reward.”

Well, to say that the counselor Sydney Bankmann had hired was easy on the eyes was an understatement. So, yeah: that was definitely a reward.

Mike’s eyes scanned the girl as he entered the meeting room with a bunch of other people from several departments of Electron Enterprises. She was standing behind the desk, staring at her tablet, and now and then she would look up, nodding her head and grinning politely at the people walking before her.

She was young, but not too young – probably three or four years younger than Mike. And she was stunning: her petite, lithe body had curves in all the right places and her skin was luminous and glowing with a beautiful, creamy hue. Her medium-length dark hair looked soft and silky and enhanced the beauty of her hooded eyes, her irises holding a peculiar color oscillating between blue and green. It reminded Mike of the ocean, the way it once had been. The way he had seen it in old pictures and old movies, before it became the dull, grey surface that it was now.

And then, the girl’s lips. They were so –

“You should stop doing that. It’s rude.” Maddix elbowed him slightly and Mike snapped out of his daydreaming.

“Doing what?”

“Staring.”

“I was not…”

“Yes, you were.”

Mike sank back into his chair, crossing his arms before his chest. Yes – his friend was right. He had been staring at the counselor girl like a creep. But how could he be considered guilty of being an imaginative man? His mind always going a mile a minute, compensating for the lack of sensory experiences. Sensory experiences he sometimes craved and desired with all his heart, all the while fearing them. Just like fire, they pushed and pulled him.

The murmurs in the room stopped when the young woman cleared her throat and smiled.

“Hello everyone… my name is Lisa Presley and I will be your sounding board, today. I will be a safe place for you to talk about issues that might be troubling you, and I will try to help you find your own solutions to problems… or at least develop better ways to manage issues.”

Mike froze. How in the world was he going to manage his current issue? The girl’s voice sounded just like the one he had dreamed about. The same voice he had been working on, trying so hard to recreate it artificially.

His heartbeat suddenly racing, he knew his fine hearing could not be wrong: the counselor’s voice was the one he had imagined, the one he had so clearly heard in his mind. It was not akin to the voice in his dream: it was the same voice. Low, soulful, slightly husky, with a peculiar drawl. In his head, he had almost automatically associated that voice to a black girl – while the girl in front of him was white. But still, the voice fit. What was this? A case of clairvoyance? Mike could almost hear Maddix say: “Clairvoyance has no rational explanation, my friend. It might not even exist.”

“…I am not here to give you advice, but to provide non-judgmental, empathetic and accessible means to allow you all to find a way forward in your everyday job. Your CEO, Miss Bankmann, cares a lot about your wellbeing and it is her priority to keep you as happy as she can, here at Electron Enterprises. And that is why she hired me – because she wanted an objective, external, unbiased set of eyes. So, really, I have two clients: you guys, and the organization you work for. But Electron Enterprises is peripheral for me: with that, I mean that you come first.”

Mike’s eyes were fixed on the girl. He sat close to a column that partially obstructed her view and, for a while, he was pretty sure she hadn’t spotted him at all. He loved having a privileged point of view on – Lisa. That was her name. Lisa. He swallowed, almost out of impulse, without really knowing why. Why was he so flustered, suddenly? She was just a girl. A girl like any other. With a lovely name, a beautiful face, a sultry voice and a body to die for.

“So… What I am asking you today, is to help me become mindful of the context in which you work. Because only that way, with your active support, I will be able to have that crucial understanding of your environment and the way it functions. Then, after this meeting and for the next few weeks, I will be available for one-to-one, person-centered counseling sessions with some of you. Actually…” She glanced at her tablet and bit her lip. “…Miss Bankmann gave me a list of people she thinks will be willing to talk to me individually. Please, raise your hands, help me out, here… Erika Ross… Solomon Alexander… Joanna Hightower…”

As she spelled the names, she scanned the room and smiled at the people rising their hands.

“John Feeney… Hey, hello.” Lisa chuckled at Feeney’s ear-to-ear smile and frantic waving. Mike rolled his eyes, hoping that idiot from the Laboratory of Cosmogenics wouldn’t start drooling. He was such a pussy-starved tool! Mike seriously doubted that a girl like Lisa could ever give Feeney the time of the day. Buffoon!

“Vera Beltran… James Altieri… Jeremiah Garland…”

“Hi. I work at the Testing Bureau Of The Detection Of Mutagenics,” Garland exclaimed proudly, as if someone had asked him about his resume.

“You do? That’s great!” Lisa smiled gently and the whole group giggled. Mike groaned.

“And the last one… Mike Jackson.”

He knew it was coming. After all, Sydney had told him in advance she had enrolled him in those one-to-one sessions, which suddenly didn’t seem so bad by the way. But Mike did nothing and didn’t raise his hand. Lisa squinted and glanced around the room.

“…Mister Jackson?”

Silence.

“…Mister Mike Jackson? Mike?”

“I’m here.” He finally cleared his throat and their eyes met.

For the quickest second, he felt like witnessing a silent, minuscule nuclear blast. Then everything went back to normal. Lisa nodded her head, just slightly, inhaled a deep breath and broke eye-contact, resuming her group session.

“Alright… Did you know that less than one-third of Americans are happy with their work? Eighteen percent are unhappy with their current position, with some even sabotaging the success of their workplace… But an unhappy or unhealthy work environment is bad for the company and even worse for the employees. So… my first question today is, what do you think about your job? Are you happy with it?”

Mike, despite his cool, collected facade, felt frozen in place. For a moment, he became the human manifestation of what Maddix Hoover would have called “solidification”. The phase transition in which a liquid turns into a solid when its temperature is lowered below its freezing point.

He chewed a mouthful of his vegetarian stir fry and his brain tuned out the noise of the robocars passing by, both on the streets and over his head.

Complete. Silence.

Master Chang looked at him and smiled.

“What’s up, Mike? Why so sullen tonight?”

His voice intruded the stillness of Mike’s mind.

“Because I’ve been waiting for your crispy fried tofu way too long, man…” Mike smirked at the old guy behind the kitchen counter of the little noodle bar. He had found the place only a few days earlier, and having dinner sitting on one of the high stools facing the road had already become a habit. Plus, Master Chang was an amazing chef. In Mike’s opinion, Level 2 was the best one to have street food.

The old man chuckled and resumed cooking.

“Don’t bullshit me, kid. What’s going on? You already had your tofu… don’t you remember? Where has your mind gone?” He kept giggling to himself. “You’re too stressed out, let me tell you… You need to relax… Or a nice girl taking care of you the old-fashioned way.” Another giggle.

Mike frowned and glanced down and into his bowl. Master Chang was right: the tofu was right there. Mike had even eaten some of it. He suddenly remembered. What the hell was wrong with him?

Oh, he had a pretty good idea of what was messing him all up. It had to do with the very special day that was now ending. They had spent hours counseling with Lisa, in the meeting room. So many people, and yet Mike had felt as if it was just the two of them, anyone else simply gone. Any other sound and sight around muted, obliterated, iced out. He had stayed quiet for the entire afternoon, never asking her anything, never giving an answer to any of her questions. Because he hadn’t been making out her words – focused as he was on the sound of her voice, on the musicality of it. At times, he had even closed his eyes for a moment, imagining those sound waves swirling in the air like colored slipstreams. But then he had opened his eyes again, not really wanting to miss the visual spectacle that Lisa was. Drop-dead gorgeous, yep.

Was that what Maddix defined as “lust”? Maybe. Mike couldn’t tell. He was too jumbled up to discern what he felt and scribble a definition on it. He found peace within himself by deciding that it was only because Lisa had been the only notable novelty in a long-ass time.

Glancing at his watch, Mike realized that he had been sitting at the bar for over an hour, in a trance, staring into space. Sighing and shaking his head to himself, he got up and used his chipcard to pay for his dinner. Twenty airdollars for a meal he barely remembered he had eaten. He even took the leftovers with him, plus a couple of boxes of untouched food for the next day, all the while smirking at Master Chang who still looked very much amused by his dreamy state. Mike agreed: the whole thing was probably quite funny… seen from the outside. From the inside, it just felt tremendously confusing.

He decided not to take the metrotaxi and to walk back to the deck instead, hands in the pockets of his long coat, lapels up against the thin, ice-cold rain that was bathing the city, his breath coming out in puffs before his face. Just like every night. The asphalt as shiny and glistening as black latex. The neon lights flashing and looking even more colored than during the day, almost blinding. It was dark, except for the artificial lights of the city, and Mike put his sunglasses on. Too much light made his eyes hurt. His face remained a perfect, immobile mask.

He almost got crushed by a group of kids on their airskates, and turned back to watch them as they disappeared behind the corner, laughing and hollering. Suddenly, he missed his parents. He missed being a kid, with all his life and dreams still unraveling ahead. Maybe he could postpone leaving Level 2, after all, and head back to that club, the Chiba Industrial Area. Maybe find a girl to spend a couple of hours with, drink something, distract himself. Nice and easy.

However, as he pondered over the possibility of spending the night out, his feet kept moving toward the deck area. Almost absent-mindedly, he extracted his AA Pass from the back pocket of his pants. Well – apparently his body was guiding him back home. He went through the scanning process, no problem, his ID confirmed with a beeping sound. The computer voice welcoming him as one of the tenths of aeronylon elevators brought him up, up, up to his block, on Nelooag Square.

Mike entered his condo and the robotic janitor turned its oval head toward him, then resumed its behind the desk activities. He walked straight to the main elevator of the building – because apparently, human life had become a constant going up and down on elevators. Walking was optional.

“Floor 58,” he mumbled. The doors closed and his eyes did the same as the feeling of ascension began again, swirling in the pit of his stomach.

Ding.

The elevator stopped and Mike opened his eyes again.

Floor 21.

The doors opened with a flushing sound, and there stood Lisa.

She was very much aware of the stunned expression on her face. But she detected complete surprise on his face, too, despite the shades he was wearing. The guy from Electron Enterprises – either he was stalking her, or he lived there, at the Ozymandias Condo. Probably the latter.

Lisa swallowed and what until that point had only been a doubt suddenly became a certainty: the guy from the group counseling session, the man she would soon have a couple of one-to-one meetings with, the quiet and elusive Mr. Mike Jackson, was the naked swimmer she had spotted only a few nights earlier. Lisa didn’t even know how she guessed it was him – but she knew she was right.

She also hoped her eyes didn’t betray her sudden realization and, just then, he smiled. It was the first time she saw him do that, and it stunned her more than any surprise appearance. When she smiled back, it was almost an automatic reaction, and so unlike her. She was usually very cold with strangers, unless she was working.

“Hey… uhm…” Mike moved to a side and gestured vaguely, making space for her in the elevator. Which was pointless, really, because there was plenty of space in there.

She nodded her head and walked in, turning her back to him.

“Good evening, Mister Jackson.”

“Mike, please. Just Mike.”

Lisa stared into space and grinned.

“Floor 61,” she stated, and the elevator doors closed once again.

“I’m surprised to see you… you live here, Miss Lisa?”

A calm, velvety tone. His voice, coming from behind her shoulders, felt strangely familiar, and she narrowed her eyes for a moment.

“Yes. You, too? …Just Lisa, please.”

“Yeah… Floor 58… I’m going out first.” He stepped forward and suddenly was standing right next to her. She didn’t turn her head and blinked her eyelids instead. His words resounding inside of her in an odd, unexpected way that caused her… Pain?

I’m going out first.

“I know we didn’t interact much today but… The things you said… were interesting.”

Lisa snapped out of her trance and closed her eyes shut for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice sounded affable and collected.

“Were they? You looked bored.”

Mike chuckled.

“I wasn’t. It really was an interesting meeting… So much that I’m looking forward to my individual sessions, now.” He paused. “But yeah… I thought it would be boring.”

She smiled.

“Well… Thanks for your honesty.”

“You’re welcome… Lisa.”

Lisa bit the inside of her cheek. There was something about the way he pronounced her name… Something. Then the scent reached her and, this time, she turned her head, noticing the bag in his hand.

“Chinese food?”

“Cambodian.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows sprung up, and she nodded her head, staring at the elevator doors once again.

“It’s from… ah, a nice place down at Level 2. Ever been there?”

“No… not yet. I just moved here from San Francisco. Didn’t have time to tour the city, yet.”

“Well… What about dinner?”

What? Was he asking her out? So unprofessional! Lisa watched him again, her brow furrowing. He blinked and chuckled again.

“I mean – did you at least have dinner… tonight.”

Her cheeks reddened instantly.

“Oh, OK… No, not yet. I’m just coming home… It’s been a…” She sighed. “…a very long first day at work.”

“Here…” There it was again, that smile. Sweet, but hiding a clear cockiness. He handed her the bag with the food. “It’s… still warm. I haven’t even touched it.”

Lisa blinked, sincerely taken aback by that small gesture, then shook her head slightly.

“Mister Jackson… Mike, thanks, but I can’t -”

“Oh yeah, you can. Wait… Just let me take these…” He rummaged in the bag and extracted a couple of small boxes. “…These are my leftovers, actually,” he giggled.

She hesitated again and he tilted his head, his eyes softening behind the shades.

“Please. It’s great food. And then, if you like it… I can tell you where the noodle bar is.”

“What about you? It’s your food…” She sounded uncertain, but she reached out and took the bag. Their hands didn’t touch.

“I’m full. I always take something home, it’s just… a habit. But I’m not hungry.”

“OK… well. Thank you.” She smiled, her eyes lowering.

Mike nodded his head.

“Cool. Alright then.” He put his hand in his pocket as if he didn’t know what else to do.

Floor 38… 39…

“Can I ask you something, Mike?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

She hesitated for the briefest moment.

“How’s the water in the pool?”

“…Come again?” Mike’s face felt suddenly hot. Especially when he noticed the slight grin on her face. She was still staring straight ahead, a bit embarrassed herself. But also amused.

“Weren’t you swimming in the outdoor pool, a few nights ago? It was you, right?”

This time she turned and looked at him. The luminous glint in her bright eyes catching him by surprise even more than her out-of-the-blue question. He tried to keep his face stoic and avoided a direct answer to her last question.

“The water was… cool-ish… but not so bad, all in all.”

Lisa chuckled and shook her head, rubbing her forehead.

“Alright.”

“OK, now I’m embarrassed. I didn’t know I was being watched… well, except for the surveillance cameras. But since no human being is behind those, I wasn’t worried… A.I. doesn’t care about people swimming… ah… naked. It’s not a prude.”

“Well, neither am I, don’t worry. It was just… odd, I guess.”

“Sorry…” Now Mike was chuckling, too. He was still embarrassed, but felt strangely at ease with this girl. “I’ll keep my underwear on next time. Or make sure you’re asleep, at least.”

Lisa laughed, lowly.

“It’s cool. Anyway…”

Floor 47…

“We’re not supposed to engage in any deep conversation… at least not until we’re done with our meetings at work, so… I am the one who should apologize. That was uncalled for.”

“Please, don’t apologize. It was funny.”

“Yeah…” She breathed out, almost to herself.

Floor 53…

“Thanks for the food, Mike.”

“Sure. No problem.”

Floor 57…

Ding.

“I’ll see you at work.”

Floor 58.

The doors opened, and he stepped out. She looked at him, up and down, as he walked past her. The long black coat, those dark curls tied in a loose ponytail. Mike turned and smiled again, his head cocked to a side. His hand left the pocket it had been buried in and came up to his face, removing the shades.

“You’ll definitely see me at work, Lisa.”

He stared at her as the elevator doors closed and she finally noticed the dark pools of his eyes.

Two black supernovas. And, just like many astronomical events, they looked ancient.

Soundtrack