Surface R: Reunion

Part 01.4

::SEAN::

She's staring at me again.

I push her out of my mind and concentrate on the minute impulses that run through my body. Each one has a different meaning; a tiny intricate language of technical detail that only I can understand. It tells me everything. The level of the air conditioning in the lower levels. I turn it down a notch, redirecting the power to the herbarium where latest crops and plants are being sown. The artificial light has to be exactly so. The air filters, a compartment on Level 06 has blown. It's the same one that's been giving trouble all week, probably the propeller screw again. I alert the floor manager to the problem with a thought the machine will transmit for me into a message mentally.

She's still watching me.

Annoyed now, I reach out and find the console nearest to her. I'm not used to communicating directly with people not in my immediate day to day routine. I concentrate a moment before the right access code presents itself and I'm able to override the monitor. I form the words I want to appear on the screen and send them, most of my mind still concentrating on my duties.

*I do not believe staring at me is one of your prescribe tasks.*

She starts, then looks around the floor. All the other techs are busy with their work. Unobserved, she raises her hands to holographic keys and types back. *I've been hoping you'd contact me. We need to talk.*

Talk? What on earth does—I pause, bringing up a personal file—'Lindsay Caghan' have to talk to me—Sean Spring, City Head Maintainer— about? No one talks to me without clearance or authorization from the Councillors.

*You've got to listen to me. This is important. You do know just talking to you could be enough to get me relegated a lower position or even dismissed.*

Now that I think about it, yes, that is a fact. Which makes me curious as to why she's doing this at all. *Caghan, get to the point. What is so important that you're daring to talk to me?*

She hesitates, tucking a strand of violet hair behind her ear. Even though she was the only tech who seemed to have that type of hair, it's considered normal, I'm told, as one of the effects from the atmosphere. Similar to me, except my hair is a dark blue color. Finally, she types back.

*Your life.*

There's a summon from Head Councillor Levin, an urgent one. He wants a meeting of the other Councillors as soon as possible. I scan through their respective schedules and pull together a time that they will all be available. Then I notify all of them. Seems that the Watch guards called in for a Code 9—now that was interesting. There hadn't been any marked instances of unrest among the upper or lower levels lately. Everything has been running accordingly to schedule...

Except for Caghan, of course. *If you're going to continue distracting me I shall notify the room manager and—*

*Hear me out! Please. After all, what I have to say affects you. If you call the floor manager now you'll never know.*

And that would be a bad thing?

A message from another Councillor is replying to Head Councillor Levin. It's encrypted. I forward it directly to the most secure connection. The weeks' requests for lower living spaces have been filed. I sort them out automatically, cross-checking them against work performances and personnel files, sending them along. All the while, I'm acutely aware that Caghan is sitting at the console, waiting.

Damn her. She got me interested. *Make it quick and concise.*

The Tech manager is coming her way. She leans over the screen and pretends to be entering data from a collection of forms behind her. I wait until the manager is out of the way.

*Well?*

*There's information about the machine. The program they haven't told you.*

What is this about? The Machine—me—is all I've known my entire life. And she thinks I don't know it? Forms suddenly require my attention. I vent my annoyance by finishing them off quickly. To tell the truth, I would be content with people as numbers and information, so in my opinion the sooner Caghan returns to being simply an entry in a data log, the better.

*You're wasting my time.*

*Wait! Don't you want to know your past before the machines?*

Huh, now that's new. I don't ever recall a time before me being Maintainer of the City's system. *Go on.*

*Look, you're not the first maintainer. Your brother was, till it got too much and the same thing could happen to you if you don't stop now.*

*What are you talking about? I don't—*

*Yes, you do have a brother.* Caghan interrupts my message with her own even before I could finish. *Or at least, you had two. Now look, the Councillors don't really care what happens to you in this process.* She pulls in an image to her screen and sends it over to my monitor. I know who's image it is. Nina Everhart. The same office as Lindsay Caghan, except slightly of higher position. Why did she send me her photo? *See? They're training someone to replace you. Nina Everhart, under the guardianship of one Thomas Stone, Radio DJ and Catering Chef.*

*I know. She's there as a precaution in case something goes wrong.*

*Yes, that 'something goes wrong' being your burn out.*

What?

There appears to be an anomaly in the system. Caghan did NOT type what I thought she just typed. I check the words, but they stay the same. Impossible, the city needs me. The machine was built around me to my exact specifications, the shield itself depends on my energy, my control.

*What exactly are you trying to pull here, Caghan? I know the machine—*

*Then you know it's wearing at your strength? You're sixteen. The rate you're going now, you will have a year left to live if you continue working in it. Perhaps you'll live a whole lot longer if you just stop doing this job as early as now.*

I've had enough of this nonsense. *I do not know what you intend to accomplish but it isn't working. I'm not scared by your tactics. Good day, Caghan.*

I return the screen to its normal mode and turn my attention back to my tasks. Incoming data has hit a low so I direct my attention to the shield protecting the city from the polluted surface. This is the most central of my tasks.

All the same, I know she's still there, watching me.