Sleepwalker

Doctor

The one time that Ace wanted to let off some steam, the halls remained empty. He absently wondered if the technology could sense the foul mood he was in. One of his eyes glowed blue, displaying his ever-growing map of Dreamworld's second level, and his step never faltered beneath a steady jog.

He had left the ominous gray halls of the outer level over an hour ago, and he found himself in an empty white hall. The linoleum tile reflected light shining down from the floor-to-ceiling windows that replaced the inner wall. Doors lined the other wall, most leading to offices or labs and the occasional apartment.

He was inside the Ring he realized. Down below, Ring 1 itself acted as a wall, but here it was part of the architecture. He wished he had time to learn more about it, but he didn't have a moment to spare.

    In fact, he didn't have time for anything.

   Drake was in danger, and Tom would dismantle him personally if his son couldn't be saved. Of his dual objectives, Ace knew that retrieving the missing teen was top priority. The digital world could always be restored another day if it came down to it, but a life--that was permanent. All the technology in the world couldn't bring back someone's soul.

The distinct sound of heels clacking on tile around the corner snapped him out of his thoughts, and he hastily dulled his blue eye back to gray. White hair brushed in front of his face as he swiveled his head back and forth in search of a decent hiding spot. But glass stood at his back and unmarked doors stood in front.

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

He would have to risk it. He'd either for sure be caught out here, or he could potentially be caught in one of the rooms.

Ace tried the door directly in front of him. When it didn't budge, he ran down to the next, all too aware of the person mere seconds away from seeing him.

The next door gave way with a near-silent whoosh, and he dove inside just in time to catch a glimpse of a prim secretary strutting down the hall—her holopad open with several faces on videoconference. He kept the door cracked just wide enough to watch her clip-clop past him. One second. Two. Five seconds. Ten. He should be clear now.

That is, if it wasn't for the sudden jolt of electricity surging up his spine and through every nerve in his body.

When the shocks finally stopped, Ace found himself unable to move for only a few seconds, but that seemed to be just enough time for a pair of rubber-gloved hands to grab him by the hair and drag him back into the room.

Unlike Max's lab, this room's only light source came from the ugly green scribblings on the blacked out holographic board set up to his left. Ace could vaguely make out a single metal table in the center of the room and what looked like a giant glass cylinder hiding in one of the far corners.

Ace pulled his head away from his newest "friend," but the man pulled his hair harder and with strength the android was fairly certain a human shouldn't have. He glared up, but instead of seeing human eyes, a pair of tinted goggles gazed back. A crooked, knowing grin spread out across the man's deceptively normal face warned Ace that this man should not be underestimated. That didn't he had to pretend to be afraid though.

"Nice decor. Love the evil, mad scientist vibe you got going on," he quipped.

The man's smirk widened. "It's been a long time since I've had someone visit me."

Ace's voice log identified the man's accent as something vaguely British or maybe German. It was hard to tell. He tried tearing out of his grip again, but another jolt of electricity sent his circuits in a fritz.

"Welcome to my humble lab," the definitely psycho scientist continued, "And who are you?"

"A tourist. What about you?"

"I guess you could call me something similar," he answered with a grin that was a little too wide, "I am Zaman, though my friends simply call me the Doctor."

"Yeah, well I just had my physical last week, so I should be good for a few, doc. What exactly are you a tourist of?"

Zaman slammed him on to the table. Thick metal cuffs automatically clicked around Ace's wrists, ankles, neck, and waist. This was going downhill fast, and he so did not have time for this. But the man's reply sent something unrecognizable into his chest.

"Memory."