Actual Reality

Terminal

The diner's checker walls were brimming with laughter. The smell of meat and grease drifted in from the grill. I wondered why I'd come here. Was it to feel young? To be jovial and full of life? I didn't think so. Yes, these people might have looked young, but I knew better. They weren't in their early twenties; their real bodies were aged and withering.

"How are you tonight, Mr Schultz?"

The waitress's voice pitched above the racket.

"I don't know yet," I said, finally seeing my reason for being here.

"Well, can I top up your coffee?"

"Sure."

She spun around, skipping away, grabbing the coffee off the hob and bringing it back with a heart-warming smile.

"You seem troubled," she said, "are you sure you're alright?"

She filled my cup. I took a sip and then let it sit.

"I'm going into the AR tonight."

"The AR!" she gasped, "but I thought you promised your wife that...."

"I did. But this time is the last time."

The waitress looked down at the strings of her apron, the blue cords were folded into a pretty bow.

"Well, Mr Schultz, if you have to go, please be careful! I'd sure miss you if you weren't around."

"You're probably sick of me sitting here all day," I said, and she laughed as I finished the cup.

"Okay, I've got to go."

"Oh, alright," she said, "See you soon!"

She smiled, but there was worry in her eyes.

"Yes, Nancy," I whispered, "sooner than you think."

I woke up on a beaten-down tram seat; I must have closed my eyes. The carriage was packed, and daylight glimmered in off the wet tracks. I dreamt of Nancy again...

But not the real one, no, the imposter in the NEW LIFE. My daughter was out here somewhere, and I knew I had to find her.

"Next Stop: NEW LIFE Terminal Building, Station One."

The people got to their feet, their caustic coloured eyes looking up above their masks and rebreathers. The silence was unbroken, except for a cough or sigh. The tram doors opened, and we trod onto the platform. Orange smog drifted down on the wind, and I could taste the tang on the filthy air. The platform stood at the base of a proverbial mountain – a goliath spewing smog from its tower chimneys.

The workers shuffled over causeways and towards the Terminal Building. The white walls were stained with chemical deposits, and sure, it was a monstrosity, but I felt a swell of pride – it was MY monstrosity.

I found the lobby and walked inside, glad to see something familiar in this ever-changing world. The lobby stretched up to a height; stairs and walkways wound around the central atrium; weak light came in from the glass ceiling. Everything was pristine, better than when I'd left it, and I had to give it to D'Arcy: she knew how to keep a house in order. But for whatever good she'd done, the things Halloran had said concerned me. Was she really a threat? As I walked, I felt the rumble of the factories in the distance, the processors and manufacturing lines. Below it all were the sleepers, hundreds of thousands of men and women safe in the NEW LIFE. I made my way up to an interactive terminal, thinking of them.