Orpheus | Installment Sixteen – Surviving

“We stood there. Your face went out a long time
before the rest of it. Can’t see you anymore I said. Nor I,
you, whatever you still were
replied.
When I asked you to hold me you refused.
When I asked you to cross the six feet of room to hold me
you refused. Until I
couldn’t rise out of the patience either any longer
to make us
take possession.
Until we were what we must have wanted to be:
shapes the shapelessness was taking back.
Why should I lean out?
Why should I move?”

– What the End Is For, by Jorie Graham, 1995

Surviving

“I had recognized her. They had tried to tear her out, but she had lived in me – deep in my heart and secret, nameless and indescribable, yet never entirely gone.”
― Raphael Carter, The Fortunate Fall

Seven weeks later

It was like going through some weird stages of grief. Only, she was mourning two lives. She finally remembered the first one in its entirety even though she had technically never lived it. Her second existence was the life that she had now, and it had already slipped away from her fingers like sand through an hourglass. Lisa wondered if the eerie stillness in her heart meant that she was already bordering on madness. She asked herself if she would soon lose her mind.

The ironic twist of fate had manifested itself in all its absurd glory: several binders full of documents, files, pictures, nanodiscs and old tapes, and a couple of metal boxes packed with different items had been delivered to the Carpe Librum the day after Mike left her. Precisely 21 hours after she had seen him for the last time. It would have been funny if only it wasn’t so damn painful. And how she had wanted him to be there with her, at that moment. Going through the past together, finally talking about what they had never had the chance to discuss back then, for so many reasons.

But, once again, Mike was gone. The sheer realization of his absence shattered her soul, just like it had happened all those years ago.

“I am so sorry, Lisa…” Miss Oshi told her one night, while they shared a frugal dinner. “So sorry for what happened to you.”

“And to him…” Lisa had observed the food on her plate without much interest. She was losing weight. And any zest for life.

“Yes.” A sigh. “Sydney Bankmann is like a spoiled toddler… ready to break her favorite toy if things don’t go the way she wants. I have no idea what she did to Mike to reel him back in so quickly, but Lisa… Akira will find something and we’ll fix this. You’ll see. It’s just a matter of time.”

Lisa hadn’t replied. But she had chewed on the soft flesh inside her lower lip until she had tasted blood. And Akira, despite his ability and resources, hadn’t been able to penetrate the secrets of Electron Enterprises. At least, not yet.

The emptiness she felt was hard to describe with coherent words and was accompanied by a numbness that she had never experienced, not even when she and Maxwell had broken up, before she moved from San Francisco to New York. Assuming that there had been, indeed, a relationship. The timeline of what she had always believed her life was had become blurred. Lisa no longer knew if what she remembered had actually happened or was a fake memory that someone had programmed in her brain.

Akira had been pretty specific: Sydney Bankmann had sold some of her assets about one year earlier because she needed to finance some secret internal project. At this point, it was evident that the project had something to do with Lisa and Mike, only – Lisa didn’t know any detail. What she did know was that her “parents” had been paid – and she figured they had received money to take care of her – about six or seven months earlier. The picture was quite evident. Worst case scenario, she and Mike hadn’t existed before then. It was appalling, to say the least, and it generated a terrifying domino effect.

And so the stages of grief had begun. Twisted and convoluted, they created a rough pattern that did not involve the loss of one single person. Lisa was mourning two entire existences and all the people involved in them. She mourned herself, because her whole life was a lie. She mourned her parents because they were not real, but she could not stop loving them – the feeling was too deeply rooted inside of her. She mourned the memories of the infancy she had never had. She mourned Mike, who had accused her of things she couldn’t even remember doing… not in the past, and certainly not now.

The last time she had seen him, at Silver Grounds, he was already gone. In his eyes, she had caught nothing but faint glimpses of the man she had fallen in love with so quickly – or the man she had never stopped loving through life and death. He had looked and sounded different. Brainwashed. Reprogrammed. So sure of his memories, of his decisions. There was nothing that she could do to convince him to stay. She had felt it, the moment she had touched him and he had jerked back as if she was poisonous. She had lost him.

And then she mourned the person that she had once been and the life she had once had. Because the moment Cromer had delivered the items to Level 1, and Miss Oshi had offered Lisa her studio and all the time in the world to examine the files, Lisa had started to remember. Her cellular memory had kicked in, in such an overwhelming manner that she had almost felt physically sick.

While Mike had had nothing but a handful of hours to go through all those documents, she had been watching and listening and reading for almost two months now. And bit after bit, day after day, hour after hour, her dormant second soul had reawakened.

It had been excruciatingly painful.

Michael – killed. Gone. Her kids, her nephews, parents, relatives, friends. Dead for centuries. Gone. And herself, too. Lisa Marie. Dead and gone. Nothing but dust in a world that no longer existed. Lisa had remembered her original living a long life, dying of old age, still missing and loving Michael and all the other people that had gone with him before her. The dreams had never abandoned her, and they had followed her in this sort of afterlife Sydney Bankmann had condemned her to. Without Michael.

Again.

At first, after remembering that he had indeed been assassinated when he was only fifty, Lisa had wondered how it was even possible that she had dreamed about the two of them being still together so later in life. She had dreamed of them in Paris. She had dreamed of them in Rome.

Eventually, she had come to understand that those dreams were memories that she had inherited from her previous life.

Lisa Marie had traveled the world several times, even after Michael’s passing, and she had always managed to bring him with her somehow. He was in her heart, in her mind, in her DNA. And Lisa’s dreams were a figment of Lisa Marie’s imagination. Her original had imagined being in Paris with the man she still loved. In her mind, she had pictured him older and happy, the way she had thought he would have looked, had he been still alive. The same thing had happened in Rome. And that daydreaming, those memories, had stuck in Lisa Marie’s mind, they had held onto her cells, through the centuries… and Lisa, the perfect clone, had turned them into dreams. Dreams of a past life that had never had a chance to become real. A life with the man she loved.

How could she not be grieving? She had it all. And now there was nothing left.

At first, her mourning process had been all about denial and rage. She had tried very hard to rationalize everything that had happened and distance herself from it. It hadn’t worked out so well. With denial had come isolation and the sudden need of being alone and left alone. Mike had never called, and after a couple of weeks waiting for him to contact her again, she had eventually relented and tried to call him instead. Only to find out that his number didn’t work anymore, and his email address had been canceled.

Convenient, considering that in the meantime Lisa had had all the time in the world to find out, through piles of documents, that her original had absolutely nothing to do with Michael’s death.

Yes, Lisa Marie had not had the time or the emotional resources to fully reconnect with Michael, back then, that was true – but she would have given her own life to save his. His passing had destroyed her, the intensity of the love she still felt for him had become the most dangerous weapon threatening her sanity. She had survived somehow. She had managed to go on without him. But she had never been the same. She had never let go of him completely, and for the rest of her life she had missed him desperately, hoping to find him and have the chance to be with him again – at least in the afterlife. Hoping that he would be waiting for her.

About a week after that huge discovery, Akira had informed Lisa that Mike had moved to Level 4, in a brand-new apartment rented by Electron Enterprises.

Of course. As if she needed further confirmation that Sydney Bankmann was behind all of this.

Lisa had then tried to get in touch with Mike by calling the company. And she had suddenly discovered that her position there had been terminated: she no longer worked as a consultant for Electron Enterprises. The firm thanked her for her support and invaluable professionalism, though. The receptionist Lisa had spoken to had told her that an official letter had been sent to her apartment, informing her of the equitable rescission – which included the revocation of her AA pass to Levels 4 and 5.

Splendid.

That had come as a surprise, but not really. Especially considering the scene that she had almost caused during her last visit to the company.

Lisa had never gone back to her apartment on Level 3 after meeting Mike at Silver Ground park. She had been holed up at the Carpe Librum – the one place in this world where she felt safe, accepted and part of something real. And where Miss Oshi had been so kind to offer her a job.

Only at the Carpe Librum Lisa was able to survive what she called the “clone blues.”

How could she go on, knowing that Mike didn’t want her anymore? That he was afraid of her for something that she had never done? Not knowing if she’d ever get the chance to unbreak what had been broken the first time, so many years earlier? Knowing that he had been snatched away from her not once, but twice?

And then there were all those other thoughts swirling in her mind, never leaving her alone. She wasn’t allowed any peace.

What was her purpose in life? Were her thoughts her own, Lisa Marie’s, or both? Did she truly have a soul or had she just been programmed to believe she did?

Sometimes, Lisa couldn’t think of herself as herself. And in those moments, she would always become one of the people she mourned. Denial, anger, depression, estrangement, isolation… they were all bars of the same cage.

And bargaining. That would always come with those unbearable feelings of vulnerability and helplessness.

If only she had remembered sooner. If only she hadn’t gone to San Francisco but to the Purgatory with Mike. If only she had tried harder to convince him to wait some more, that day at the park. If only she hadn’t listened to Akira and had followed Mike to Electron Enterprises, before he disappeared for days… coming back changed. Maybe that would have made a difference. But it was a weak defense line and couldn’t protect Lisa from the painful reality of being alone and lost in a world that she no longer recognized as her own.

What about acceptance of the current situation?

Well, she wasn’t there yet. And maybe that moment would never come. For now, she still hoped that Mike would descend the levels and look for her. According to Akira, since he had moved to his new apartment on Level 4, Mike had never gone down again. Not to Level 2, to have dinner at that sushi bar he used to love so much, nor to watch an old movie at his beloved Rosebud theater. And certainly not to Level 1, to the Carpe Librum.

It seemed that Mike had completely erased Lisa from his life, his mind, his heart.

Lisa was everything he could think about. And she stuck, in that little spot of his mind that was still lucid. The rest of him just went through the motions in what looked like a constant, drunken state of daydreaming.

He was afraid of her and loved her, all at once. He wanted to be far away from her and never leave at the same time. His soul was swinging between bitterness and longing, all the time. His body – just moving through time and space. Without any direction except the one that had been decided for him.

Mike didn’t know how it had happened, but Sydney’s clampdown on him had become stronger and tighter during the past few weeks. She was always with him, all over him. Trying to please him in every way. New projects, a new apartment, new responsibilities, more money. His only moments of peace were the ones he could spend in his lab, although he no longer felt the need to banter and joke with anyone… not even Maddix.

Especially Maddix.

Mike had a feeling that he, too, was involved in Project Orpheus, although he had no proof of that. But Maddix was not his friend, that much he knew.

And his former buddy had noticed the change in Mike’s behavior. He had kind of gone nuts for a while, too, asking him again and again about his ethnic heritage.

What Mike had once found funny and quirky and only slightly obnoxious had now become utterly annoying.

“African, Native American, partly Caucasian,” he would now reply automatically.

“You don’t know anything else about your ancestors?”

Always the same fucking question. A relentless mantra.

“No. How could I? You know how many files got lost in the last century, Maddix.”

“Right… Hey Mike…”

“What?”

“What do you think about love? I mean… if you had to give a definition… What do you think it would be?”

That had become the new addition to the list of Maddix Hoover’s bizarre questions.

“Nothing but a mammalian drive,” Mike would answer, eyes fixed on the screen of his computer, not even bothering to turn and look at his friend. And trying hard to ignore the flash of pain shattering his soul every single time.

His new apartment on Level 4 was beautiful, bigger than his old one, very classy. Designed and furnished to be inhabited by wealthy people. Mike didn’t care much about it – since he wasn’t paying for it. The company was. Plus, he only rarely spent time there. For about a month now he had been living at Sydney’s, on Level 5, almost 24/7. He didn’t care about that either, but she had asked and he had complied. It had become harder and harder to say no to her.

Not that it mattered. He didn’t give a shit about anything and anyone – his life had become sheer machine automation. He was no-one. Or, if he was indeed someone, he was a man that he didn’t recognize anymore, or someone he didn’t remember. Either way, a perfect stranger.

When Sydney had quietly slipped into his bed for the first time, Mike wasn’t even surprised. After all, what did people do with their objects? They used them. That was their purpose. He had opened his eyes in the darkness when her cold, soft hand had started moving over his naked chest and down, toward his stomach.

“Sydney…”

Her hand had stilled its movement.

“Yes, Mike?”

“I want my AA pass back.”

It was so quiet in the room that he could barely hear her breathing.

“Why?”

“You got me. I’m here. Living in your house. You’re in my bed, about to feel me up. And you can if you want, I am not stopping you… but I want something in return.”

His voice was calm, colorless, controlled. And he wondered where that request had come from, since his sedated mind didn’t seem to have the ability to think outside the box anymore. He had been toeing the line, like a good little tin soldier.

Or at least let her think you are, Mike. This is business, man. Nothing is free.

That other man’s voice. Mike would hear it, from time to time. Gentle and yet unmovable.

“Why?” Sydney had asked again.

“What? You don’t trust me?” He bit his lip, realizing that he had sounded almost sarcastic.

Sydney’s hand had started to move again. Lower.

“Of course I trust you, Mike…”

“So? Will you give it back to me?”

She had reached the waistband of his boxers. Her cold fingers had found their way in. He had felt nothing.

“You know me… I can’t ever say no to you.”

And that was how he had managed to get his pass back. In exchange for a handjob. The first of a long series.

Everything had started to spin out of control pretty quickly after that first night, and the only thing that had somehow managed to surprise him was the fact that Sydney Bankmann didn’t want to be fucked. Not that Mike felt that urge. After losing Lisa, he had become completely uninterested in women, just like Orpheus after the death of Eurydice. But Sydney didn’t seem to care. She loved touching him, caressing him. She wouldn’t kiss him or ask for anything in return – she just wanted him to stay still and let her do her thing.

Fine.

She also loved joining him in her luxurious bathroom decorated in gold and Italian marble whenever he took a shower. She would never undress. She would never step into the shower with him. But she would lather him and rub him and stroke him. Her eyes blazing, her face flushed. Not a word. Ever. It was… bizarre.

After a while, Mike’s skin had become numb to her touch and the physical reactions he had were nothing but the mechanical effect of her manipulations. She didn’t seem to care. She got off by jerking him off.

His barely perceivable physical pleasure was nothing but a corporeal release and was always accompanied by intense emotional distress, by a painful sense of mourning bubbling in the pit of his soul. Sometimes, more often than not, he just wanted her to be done quickly and he had to resort to some mental exercise to be able to climax.

His eyes would close and he would think about Lisa. About her voice, her hands, her lips, her eyes. In the complete darkness guaranteed by his lowered eyelids, hers was the only face able to bring some light and comfort. If Sydney was aware of his messed-up state, she wouldn’t let him know.

And, once again, it didn’t matter. He was dead inside. He was a clone and, if he had once felt like a human being, he was now only pretending to be.

“All the missing pieces will fall into place… You hold the key. It’s only a matter of time.”

Miss Oshi’s words kept replaying in his mind, echoing from the fog of his thoughts every now and then. Mike couldn’t comprehend what she meant. Not entirely, at least.

And then something happened.

That night, about seven weeks after seeing Lisa for the last time, at Silver Grounds, Mike lay in Sydney’s bed, staring at the ceiling. He had worked all day and was physically prostrated, mentally exhausted, emotionally obliterated.

Sydney opened the door and just stared at him for what felt like forever. She only wore a white satin robe and, turning his head to look at her, he could tell that she was naked underneath.

“I thought about it.” Her voice was low and velvety as she glided into the room, closing the door behind her back. Locking it. “I don’t want to stop tonight.”

Mike stayed perfectly still.

“No? And what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to… take me. The way you would take her.”

His face didn’t show any emotion. He just blinked.

“You want me to fuck you?”

A slight, dirty grin.

“Is that what you did with her?”

No. He would make love to Lisa. Sometimes it was gruff and rough – but they would always, always make love. He was not going to use those words with Sydney, though. He didn’t reply and just stared at her instead.

She stepped closer to the bed.

“I want to know what it feels like. Just touching you is not enough for me anymore… I want to know what it feels like… To be taken by you. To have you inside of me.”

Setting his jaw, Mike sat up on the bed. Right. It was always all about her, after all.

“You’ve never done it before, have you? With anyone…”

“No. Is it going to hurt?”

He bit his lip.

“Probably, yeah.”

Her eyes narrowed and she seemed to ponder over his words.

“I don’t care. I want to do it.”

Mike got up from the bed.

“OK, then… Lie down.”

Strangely enough, she complied. The arctic temperature inside his heart was something he had never felt before. Slowly, he walked around the bed until he was standing right in front of her. Sydney opened her robe and parted her legs, and he noticed that she was shaking.

“It’s OK…” He said, calmly. “I will be careful.”

Yes, Mike. Be careful with your mistress.

Once again, that other man’s voice. This time it sounded slightly caustic.

Sydney was a beautiful woman. She had long, toned legs, perky breasts and perfect features. But there was something about her – a coldness that made her appear less than human. An alien-like beauty that had never been able to entice him. Too hyperborean and sharp, too detached. While he loved the burning hot passion that made Lisa who she was – all woman, totally authentic. The intensity of her blue eyes, looking like blazing flames. The fullness of her red lips. Her vibrant lithe body that seemed created to match his and his alone. Her curse words and her moans as she took her pleasure and gave him pleasure in return. She was imperfect perfection personified, in every way. And he loved her and missed her beyond belief, to the point of physical pain, it didn’t matter how much he ignored it.

On autopilot, Mike stepped closer and stood between the V of Sydney’s open legs. His hands rested on her knees and he parted her thighs further. She was bare – all over. He realized that he was observing her like a scientist would watch something through a microscope. His body was not reacting yet. He was far from turned on.

And she seemed to notice.

“You don’t want to?” She sat up and her long fingers closed on his groin, rubbing him through the thin fabric of his loose pants. Mike glanced down. The well-manicured hand, the long nails. What the fuck was he doing? Of course he didn’t want to! And yet he couldn’t disobey. He pushed the feeble, rebellious part of himself to the back of his mind and covered Sydney’s hand with his own, pressing it into his body. His hips thrust forward and against her touch, and she let out a sigh. Mike knew what it meant.

Within seconds, she had breached the boundary of his waistband and they were skin on skin. He shivered – and it was not because of pleasure.

“…I think it’s up to you, to draw your conclusions about who Michael and Lisa Marie were, especially to one another. I think you’ve been influenced enough by whoever put all of this in motion…”

Miss Oshi again. Her voice in his head, through the fog.

Sydney held him in her hand and started stroking him, and he flinched. This time, his hand stopped her.

“Wait… Let me… Just lie down…”

She obeyed, her pale irises fixed on the movement of his hand as he tried to force his body to react as best as he could. Mike’s eyelids fluttered closed for a second. He searched for Lisa’s face in his mind – and found something else. A memory.

The vision was subjective and the experience felt almost extra-corporeal. He was on the phone, clinging to it so tightly that his hand hurt. Listening to her without having the chance to talk back, because that was just a voice message she had left on his answering machine.

Lisa sounded drunk and on the verge of tears.

“…It just isn’t working, Michael. And I’m sure I won’t even remember calling you tomorrow. I’ll wake up with a fucking headache and I won’t remember a thing. But right now… right now I feel I gotta do this. Tell you… that I lied… to you and myself. And that I’m so damn tired of pretending I didn’t.”

A long silence followed, and he clasped the phone tighter. His eyes staring into space, his heart racing in his chest.

“It was easier, you know, when you were out of the country… easier to believe my own bullshit. Easier to listen to the same old people telling me what I needed to do and pretend I was the one laying down the law. But you know what? I’m taking responsibility. This one’s on me. I was scared. I still am. You have no idea how much you scare me, Michael… how terrifying it is to…”

Another long silence. Michael swallowed.

“Anyway… it wasn’t true. I tried to convince myself that it was, but I was never indifferent. In fact…” A small laugh, full of sheer desperation. “Nothing has changed. I will always love you. Eternally. And I never, ever meant to hurt you. So… if you don’t believe anything, at least believe that. I am so sorry… and this phone call is so fucked up… Shit…”

Click.

When he snapped back into the present, he was inside of her. Not Lisa, but Sydney. He was inside of her and was moving in slow, rhythmic strokes. She was lying down on the bed, near the edge, whimpering almost inaudibly, staring at him. He was still standing, one knee on the mattress, her legs hooked over his arms. He didn’t even remember starting this. Where had his mind gone?

“Mike… Michael…”

Sydney’s voice startled him and his sharp motions slowed down. What had she said? How had she called him?

What the fuck were they doing?

“Am I hurting you?”

He spoke even before he could think about the words and, once again, his voice sounded foreign even to him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second and shook his head. Calm down. Calm down. You got this.

“No… No, it’s… amazing. It’s so good… Don’t stop…” She clung to his forearms with both hands and pressed her long nails into his skin. He winced.

“You know, honey…” She sounded breathless, but still awkwardly in control. “If it were up to me… Lisa would be in this bed too, right now.”

And those were the words that unlocked the door. The avalanche rumbled. The truth shone – suddenly so clear in front of his eyes. Blinding.

He remembered everything, all at once. Everything from the past and everything that had happened right before he spoke to Lisa for the last time, at the park. Images fast-forwarding in his mind at the speed of light, voices and feelings overlapping and mixing, threatening his sanity and keeping him anchored at the same time.

“What did you say?” He blurted out the words and they sounded choked.

“That I wanted you both, Mike… I’ve always wanted you both and… God… Keep going…”

He frowned and blinked, several times. His body stilled just as hers started to tremble and quiver all around him. Nausea assaulted him, and he withdrew from her as soon as she calmed down. No. No. What the fuck was he doing? Had he really been fucking this sick mother figure? And why was he shaking from head to toe, now?

Michael’s voice spoke in his mind.

I was asleep. But I’m fully awake now. And so are you. Play it cool, Mike. Get a grip. And then leave.

It was all so clear all of a sudden. Clarity and pain moved on parallel lines. Mike felt as if someone had just sliced his throat open and, at the same time, awakened him from a nightmare. The seizure. The drugs. The reprogramming. The mistress had yanked the chain and he had been reeled back in no time flat. The first domino piece fell, and the chain reaction was inevitable.

The realization of the extent of Sydney’s manipulation was jarring. The neuronal implants – how was it possible that he had forgotten about those? She had told him! At the hospital! Right before he passed out again. Before he woke up… different. Before he doubted Lisa – and her love. Before he left her, telling her that they were nothing to one another.

You have to leave this place.

His cellular memory was way more potent than any reset. He now saw and felt the scope of Sydney’s plan and machination. She had played on his doubts and fears, on a past that he hadn’t been able to remember fully. The neuronal implants – they had allowed Sydney to quietly observe him and Lisa and gather facts to use against them at the right time. And he had fallen for it.

Leaving Lisa – had that been his idea or Sydney’s? Whatever the answer, what was even more appalling was that Sydney did what she did for what she believed was the right reason. Only, it was wrong. She had told him that all the other clones were nothing but possessions – objects to be watched, admired, fucked. She had given him the illusion of freedom while keeping him locked in a golden cage. She had never been openly antagonistic – quite the opposite, in fact. She had tried to appease him, but she had never stopped being cunning. Moving pawns, turning loyalties, defining his spaces and social interactions. Miss Oshi was right – Sydney was always the perfect puppeteer. The fake ally. The fake friend. The fake protector.

Mike realized that he had been robbed of what he truly needed. In exchange, Sydney had given him a taste of what he thought he wanted. Peace of mind. Stability. A purpose. Only, it was nothing but smoke and mirrors.

She was exactly like those people she said she despised. It was sad that she couldn’t realize it, but she wanted her creations all for herself. Just like everyone else. No matter the cost. No matter the consequences.

Could he trust her? No, he couldn’t. He had doubted Lisa, her intentions and feelings, because someone else had told him so. And right now, the only thing in his mind was Sydney talking about “destroying” the woman he loved. What had she meant by that?

Remember the mask, Mike. You have to go now, and never come back. But she has to believe that you will. You know where you gotta be.

Michael’s voice sounded so clear now.

And Mike felt, knew in his heart that Lisa Marie had nothing to do with what had happened to him. The tragedy had hit, and it had scarred her for life. But she was not responsible for it.

That’s right. She wasn’t. We were far from perfect, but we loved each other for real.

“Mike?” Still breathless, Sydney sat up on the bed and closed her legs, fastening the belt of her satin robe. “Are you OK?”

No. He was not. He felt dirty and thought he would probably throw up any second now. He swallowed and cleared his throat.

“Yes, Sydney. I’m OK… Are you? Did I hurt you?”

“Just a little bit, but… I feel fine…”

“Good.” He nodded his head and gulped down the disgust he felt for her and himself. He stepped closer once again and forced himself to caress her cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m glad if you… that it was nice for you.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling OK?” Her reptile-like eyes studied him carefully.

The mask, Mike. Put it on.

He smiled, his eyes softening.

“Yes, of course. I was just a bit anxious, you know… I never… Well, you being a virgin and all…”

Swoon her. There must be some human feelings left inside of her. Somewhere.

“You were amazing, Mike… So sweet and thoughtful.”

Right. The acidic aftertaste in his mouth didn’t subside, but he managed to keep smiling for her benefit.

“Hey… What about some wine? You know… we should celebrate… This is a significant moment, after all…”

Sydney’s beautiful face lit up.

“Great idea. White?”

“Sure.” He nodded his head. “Just lie down and relax… I will be right back.”

For good measure, he kissed the top of her head. When her fingers closed on his wrist and her nails slowly scraped his forearm, he fought the urge to jump back. Instead, he grinned down at her.

He took a quick shower, his mind reeling. His body tense like a violin cord and yet strangely able to keep some measure of control. Standing almost still under the hot water jet.

It had been torturous to go back to bed and share pleasantries with Sydney as if nothing had happened. But he felt he had acquired – or remembered – a skill. The ability to wear the perfect face for every occasion, say the right words, act in tune with the environment, fitting in and standing out all at once. Looking and sounding utterly believable.

And even she, the ultimate liar, had fallen for it.

He had gone looking for some wine and he had found it, no problem. But he had also searched and found something else – much more crucial for what he had in mind. Sydney’s earpiece. The device she used to give instructions and obtain information about him and Lisa. Sydney had never been specific about that, but especially during the last weeks or so, her behavior around him had become less and less guarded, and he had noticed. He remembered some of the orders she whispered as she touched that thing on her ear: check the vitals on Subject 2. Let me know if she goes back to her apartment. Let me know if she leaves Level 1.

And that was where Lisa probably still was. On Level 1. Mike had been emotionally and mentally absent for quite some time, but now felt strangely tuned in. He knew that Lisa was still in hiding, likely at the Carpe Librum, where he had asked her to wait for him. And he had to go back down there anyway. There was no other place where he could be safe right now.

But he wasn’t going to leave without depriving Sydney of her tiny device, first. It didn’t matter if that earpiece wasn’t the only medium that she could use to keep an eye on him and Lisa. It was the middle of the night, she had just been fucked properly for the first time in her life and was giddy and half-drunk. And she was finally asleep, without a care in the world. If he left now, he was fairly confident that he would have time to reach Level 1 and hide at the library before Sydney could realize the truth. Which was that she had lost control over him once again.

Oh, she thought she got him. And for a while, she had been right. The fly had been tangled in the spider web just fine. Well, no more. Mike had grabbed the earpiece and pushed it into the pocket of his pants, in the foyer. Then, with the best nonchalant attitude he could muster, he had gone back to the bedroom where Sydney was still waiting for him. Holding a bottle of expensive French wine and two glasses.

He had allowed himself to drink a little but mostly had poured her glass after glass of wine. Swooning her. Letting her touch him and caress him again as he managed to detach himself from his own body in the process. Merely physical reactions – more than enough for her. He had spotted Sydney’s weakness and had taken advantage of it. She could not read the soul of anyone. It just wasn’t in her. She based her opinions and assumptions on facts, data, sheer information but was not at all empathetic. She thought she was – and that suddenly worked even better for him.

When she had finally fallen asleep in his bed, he had scribbled down a message for her and had left it on the small table near the door.

“I’m taking a walk. I will come back soon.

Sleep well.

-Mike”

He put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and grabbed his jacket as he quietly opened the front door to the mansion, then walked over to his flycar. The robotic guard at the gate just let him go, no problem. Because Mike Jackson, the trained bear, could come and go as he pleased. Sydney had never been anxious about him rebelling again, after reprogramming him. It was convenient, but it also made him angry – to think about the level of arrogance he had allowed her to reach.

Biting his lip, feeling nervous and tense, he drove slowly through the semi-deserted road and toward the Deck that connected Level 5 to Level 4. When he was finally down, he parked his car in a private garage and reached the undertrain station on foot, hands in his pockets, clutching to the earpiece tightly. He had switched it off, just in case.

The descent to Level 1 was relatively quick, but it felt endless to Mike. He couldn’t wait to get to the library. He needed to see Lisa. He needed to apologize to her. More than anything else, he needed to tell her that he loved her – that she was all that mattered. And that they could still leave – and live.

Would she still want him? After how he had treated her? After he had doubted her?

Sudden fear paralyzed his heart and he exhaled a shaky sigh.

No. No more doubts. He had to have faith in who they were to one another.

“In this life, right here, right now, we can only be what we were supposed to be all along… Nothing to each other.”

No! He could fix this. He just had to see her, tell her – that he wasn’t himself, during that horrible conversation at Silver Grounds. That something terrible had happened to him.

She would understand. She had to. They were meant to be. They were in the past, and they were now. And this time, no external or internal force would stop what should have happened all along.

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