The Falling Away (31 page)

Li smiled with Dylan's face. “Just as you're a comfort to everyone, Nancy.”

She excused herself from the room, and Li took control of Dylan's body, forcing him to rise and dress.

Dylan stayed quiet, but Li actually hummed inside Dylan's mind as he dressed. Then he went to the opposite side of the room and found a silver tray on a wheeled cart, brought it back to the bed beside the unmoving form beneath the sheet.

Li forced Dylan's hands to pull the sheet off the body, and Dylan saw a bald man, thin and emaciated, barely breathing, on the bed. His eyes remained closed, and his lips softly murmured.

New Li, meet Old Li
.

Dylan stared. He had to stare, because Li kept his eyes totally transfixed on the pained form of the man.

But .
. . Dylan began.

Yes, yes? Go ahead and say it
.

This man is old, thin. You're—

Young and handsome, I admit it. Well, I was when I was in that body, but once I left that body—once I came into your body—well, the old husk had no reason to go on. His name was Wes Lager, once upon a time, about eight months ago. He's now thirty-five years old
.

The body looked three times that age.

Well
, Li said with a smile Dylan could feel.
They just don't make human bodies the way they used to. But I have high hopes for you, Dylan. For us. You ever hear the old expression “curiosity killed the cat
”?

Li continued without waiting for an answer.
It's amazing how those old saws can be accurate. Human language is so . . . fascinating
.

Dylan felt excitement rising inside, which made him sick. But even that was beyond his control: the nausea and outrage he wanted to feel were swallowed by Li's overwhelming glee.

Think of how happy you could have been, if you'd just taken the easy way. If you'd just unlocked your green box, let me see what was inside. This old body, this old self, would have withered and died. You never would have seen it. But now I have to speed things up, kill this body. And you have to watch. Fun for me, I'll admit, but I can tell you're not enjoying it
. Li paused.
Which, I must admit, makes me enjoy it more. So maybe I should thank you
.

Li examined the various instruments available to him on the silver tray.

Anyway, you're a curious cat, aren't you, Dylan? I can tell. I can sympathize with that because—maybe I've mentioned this before—I'm curious to see what you have locked inside that green box
.

The kill box
, Dylan thought without meaning to.

Kill box? You call it a kill box? How wonderful. See? Already I find out more about the wonders of Dylan Runs Ahead. Curious cats are . . . well, they can't be cured. And so their curiosity kills them. So, curious cat that I am, I have to kill myself
.

No
.

Oh yes. We bring many people down here, Dylan. To save other lives. Their sacrifices aren't in vain. They give, so that others can live
.

Li pulled on latex gloves, selected an instrument that looked something like a cheese slicer.
It starts with skin. “Cadaver tissue,” the medical community calls it. Living tissue that can save the lives of burn victims. Sometimes even brave soldiers who sacrifice for their country, only to be blown up in Humvees. So you see, there's a certain—oh, I don't know—a poetic justice that you would end up here
.

Li paused.
Certainly you've figured it out now, haven't you? Your skin grafts came from here. That's how we first discovered you as a chosen. Those people are very special indeed. Almost as special as the ones who call themselves the Falling Away
.

Like Quinn
.

Yes, like Quinn. Don't suppose you're ready to tell me where she is now, are you
?

I told you, I don't know
.

I hoped you'd say that. Anyway, normally, when a body runs down—not just my bodies, you know, but any body here at the HIVE, we do the ultimate bit of recycling. Skin, then organs—eyes, kidneys, lungs, and heart—when they're needed. There are people out there, companies out there, with very strong connections, who would
kill
—that's a joke, you understand—
kill
—to get access to harvested organs and such. Perform favors for me when I need them, massage the wheels of government, if you like. So the organs go to others, something of a circle of life, if you like Disney analogies. And really, doesn't it fit the whole HIVE concept? Beautiful, in a way. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, as the Christian Bible says
.

Li held up the giant cheese slicer, as if to get a better look at it, pressed a button on the side. The sharp metal portion of the slicer began to spin with a mechanical whir. Li looked down at the old man's exposed body, held the slicer over the skin.
Wes's organs are worthless now; everything inside is worthless. But he can still give us some skin before he leaves this world
.

Dylan felt Li creasing the corners of his own lips into a wicked smile.
A pound of flesh. One of those other charming English idioms
.

Li edged the whirring machine closer to Wes's skin.

I thought you'd want to know, curious cat that you are
.

52

Quinn and Webb parked Andrew's big Dodge at the front gate of the HIVE, sat in awkward silence for a few minutes.

“You ready for this?” she finally asked.

Webb feigned a yawn. “Hey, I'm one a them happy HIVE cultists, remember. This is just like going home for me.” He opened the passenger door and slid out, held up a hand to the guard who had come out to greet them.

Quinn followed suit, sliding from behind the wheel and joining Webb at the front of the truck.

“We're here to join up,” she heard Webb say. Then he turned and pointed to her. “Well, actually, she's here to join up. I'm kind of a newbie, but I brought in a new recruit. Yay for me.”

Their syrupy-sweet happiness obviously had the kid at the guard gate—who looked something like the living embodiment of Shaggy from those old Scooby-Doo cartoons—flustered. “I . . . uh . . . I guess we can do a tour, maybe get you in to see some people.”

“Oh, that would be great,” Quinn said.

He nodded, picked up his two-way radio, and started talking to someone inside.

Quinn exchanged a nod with Webb, and the kid put on his smile again. Part of the learned routine.

“We have some people who would be happy to visit with you. Would you like to drive in, or would you like me to take you?”

“Wow, could you take us?” she said. Might as well have a little fun.

“Sure. Just park in the visitors' lot right there.”

“How about right behind the guard shack here? That work?”

“Sure, but it's not really a guard shack. Just a check-in. It's not like we're a gated community or anything here; we're totally open to visitors.”

“That's why I'm here.”

“I'll grab that Jeep over there.”

“Great. Thanks.”

She wheeled Andrew's truck behind the guard shack, parked it.

The Jeep pulled up behind her, and she slid out of the truck, got into the Jeep next to the kid. Webb sat in the backseat.

Secretly she pressed the paper clip embedded in her hand, felt the pain inside relieving some of the outside pressure.

The kid started to drive down the road toward the center of the compound. “The HIVE is built in large, community-oriented circles. Because we all live in community circles in here. Because the earth, life itself, is one large circle.”

She smiled at the kid's memorized patter. No harm in letting him think she was a potential recruit.

“The outside circles include most of the transportation-related buildings. Warehouses, transfer centers, that kind of thing. Then production facilities, packaging, as you go into the nearer circles. Where most of us work.”

“But you're working out there at the guard shack,” she said, thrusting a thumb over her shoulder. “That's outside the circles. You outside the circle of trust?” She raised her hand, formed a circle with her thumb and index finger, the familiar “okay” sign.

The kid was thrown a bit off his game. “No, no. Not at all. I told you, it's just a visitor check-in. And we all rotate jobs regularly, share the work, share the profit.”

“Share the love,” Webb said from the backseat.

The kid glanced at Webb in the rearview mirror, offered a nervous smile. “Sure. Right. Anyway, I'll move from the visitor check-in in a couple months, somewhere back in here. Not that I mind being at the visitor check-in. I love it. I love everything I do here. How I get to contribute.”

“Wow. Sounds great.”

“Here, as we get closer to the center of the HIVE community,” he said, trying to shift back to his rehearsed speech, “we start to see more living quarters. Town homes, mostly. Even a few hotels for visitors.”

“Do the hotels have good swimming pools?”

“Swimming pools are a huge waste of energy.”

“Oh. Of course.”

Shaggy's rehearsed smile had returned by the time they slowed to a stop. “And here we are at the Village Center. Our community center, our dining hall—the places where we come together as a family.”

“Very Brady Bunch,” Webb said. “That's what I love about this place.”

Shaggy put the Jeep in Park, ignored Webb's last comment. “The big, beautiful building there is the community center. That's where Jeff and Elise will answer your questions.”

“Can't wait.”

She turned, shook Shaggy's hand. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I've really enjoyed this mini-tour. I'll be sure to tell Li. When I meet him, of course.”

His handshake became more enthusiastic. “Really?”

“Really. Maybe we'll get you out of the guard shack early.”

“I told you, I enjoy being—”

But she'd already slammed the door on the Jeep behind her, cutting off the kid's words. She pulled out her hair band, pulled her long hair back into a fresh ponytail, and refastened it.

Webb came to a stop beside her, stared at the community center. “Thing of it is,” he said, looking at the building, “I think we're too late for lunch. They make pretty good grub here.”

He pushed open the front door of the community center and she followed him, taking in the fresh citrus scents inside—pumped in, she was sure, to make the place seem fresh and inviting—and walked toward two waiting figures.

“Jeff and Elise, I presume?” Quinn said brightly as they approached.

“Yes,” Jeff said, shaking her hand, then looking at Webb and recognizing him. “Webb,” he said. “We didn't expect you back. You were flying to—”

“Well, once this place gets under your skin, it's just too hard to leave. But I brought a new recruit, like I told the guy at the guard shack.”

“Yes, well,” Elise said. “Who is your new friend?” Elise flashed a practiced smile at Quinn, and Quinn returned her own practiced smile.

“Maybe you better call Li,” she said. “I think he'll be interested in talking with me.”

“Why's that?” Elise asked, a bit taken aback.

“Tell him Quinn's here to see him. I don't think I'll need an appointment.”

53

Dylan awoke in a bright room, achingly white light bathing every surface he could see.

Outside the room, explosions sounded. Earthquakes, maybe. The surface of the room rumbled, rolled.

But he wasn't alone. On the opposite side of the room, bathed in that white light, was Joni.

His sister.

She smiled. “I don't think I saw this coming.”

Beneath them, the floor rumbled.

“Saw what coming?” he asked. Dylan realized they were both speaking aloud, communicating with actual speech. This wasn't just happening inside his mind anymore.

“Actually,” Joni said, rising to her feet, “it
is
happening inside your mind. Since this is your first time inside the kill box, I should show you around.” She held out a hand, swept it across the endless expanse of white around them, smiled once again. “There. Now you've pretty much seen it all.”

“The kill box? I'm . . . trapped inside my own mind?”

“Freaky, huh? But it's not so bad here, is it? Almost . . . comforting. Which is why I don't mind when you send me here. None of your pain, none of your haunted memories. Just . . . just this.”

“What is this, exactly?”

“God.”

“Inside me.”

She smiled, repeated her earlier phrase. “Freaky, huh? Some philosophers have called it the God-shaped hole, the space inside each of us that yearns for pure holiness. Goodness. Pretty small part, you have to admit, when you feel the darkness inside the rest of your mind.”

Dylan stood, felt the floor shifting beneath him. “What are the . . . explosions?”

“Yeah, well. That's the darkness I was talking about. In this particular case, Li, trying to get in, but finding he can't unlock the kill box.”

“Why not?”

“You're special, Dylan. Everyone has this God-shaped hole, but few people know it exists. Few people respond to it when they feel it. You, because of some traumatic events, have amplified it. Of course, you use it to stuff all your painful memories, thinking it's more like a Pandora's box full of monsters and murky memories.” She swept her hand across the horizon again. “But it's not like that at all. It's clean. Bright. Kind of amazing, you can stuff all those dark secrets in here, and they are swallowed. Cleansed, you might say.”

“What about you? How come the kill box doesn't swallow you when I put you in here?”

“Because you don't want it to. Because God doesn't want it to.”

“So . . . am I stuck here now?”

“Stuck isn't the right word. But you're here as long . . . as long as you need to be.”