The Glitch in Sleep (17 page)

9

A Glimmer of Hope

The door to the office of the highest-ranking employee in Sleep was made of frosted glass and stenciled with the name of the man who worked inside:

DOMINIC DOZENSKI, ADMINISTRATOR, DEPT. OF SLEEP

Behind that door was Dominic himself, with his walrus mustache, three-piece suit, and gold-plated pocketwatch (inscribed with the departmental insignia). He sat silently behind his messy desk, deliberately flipping through the pages of a thick, hardcover book while across from him, Becker and Simly reclined in two pleather Love Seats.

“Excuse me, sir, but—”

The Administrator silenced Becker with a single finger, which he then licked and used to turn another page. On the wall above them, the clock ticked forward and Becker wanted to say, “C’mon, dude, let’s get this over with so I can get back to my Mission,” but he was severely outranked and had no choice but to bite his tongue.

As Dominic made a note to himself in the margin, Becker let his eyes wander over the office. Sleep-related arcana littered the walls, while the bookshelves were filled with Seemsian bestsellers such as
The Unauthorized Miracle
and
Why Should They
Have All the Fun?: How to Overcome Your Resentment and Learn
to Love The World Again.
And prominently displayed on the wall behind the desk, just as it was in the office of all the other Administrators, was the famous painting known as
The Thirteenth
Chair
.
²⁴

“Ahem.”

Dominic cleared his throat and slammed the book shut. “Do you know what this book is, Fixer Drane?”

“It’s the Rulebook, sir.”

“That’s right. It’s the Rulebook—and do you know why we have a Rulebook?”

Becker was smart enough to know this was a rhetorical question, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Rules are the foundation of any good organization, son. For without Rules, even an organization as . . . organized as The Seems can go bad. Like an apple rotting to the core.”

“I realize that, sir, but—”

“Don’t interrupt me, son.”

“Yes, sir.”

“When you and you and I took these jobs, we agreed to follow these Rules to the best of our ability. Even when it didn’t seem like the right thing to do!”

Becker and Simly glanced at each other, not sure where this was going, while Dominic swiveled a monitor on his desk around to face them.

“Bad enough that your Briefer trashed the Chamber of Horrors without clearance . . .”

Onscreen, a closed-circuit security camera depicted Seymour’s lab, still fumigated with Bed Bug Repellent.

“Bad enough you interrupted the Snorchestra in mid-performance!”

In the Snorchestral chamber, the Conductor was lambasting his Promoter, while Bed Bugs were being carried out on stretchers.

“And bad enough that the Glitch in Sleep has still not been Fixed!”

Back in Central Shipping, the pile of unmailed Good Night’s Sleep had reached epic proportions.

“But most offensive of all”—Dominic slammed the Rule-book down on the desk and opened it to a clearly marked page—“You violated the Rule of Thumb!”

“What are you talking about?” retorted Becker, flabbergasted. “I did no such thing!”

“Oh really? Would you care for me to read it to you?”

Becker didn’t, because he already knew what it said. Everyone did. The Rule of Thumb was the one Rule in The Seems that no one wanted to break.

“That won’t be necessary, sir.”

“Oh, I think it will be, young man. I think it will be.”

Dominic picked up the book and began to read:

The Rule of Thumb: No employee of The Seems, present, past, or future, shall knowingly (or unknowingly) interfere with the well-being of any person, inhabitant, entity, or individual in The World, without the prior written consent of the Powers That Be.
Cicae luci combustem,
periodi!

Dominic sadly closed the book and his voice seemed to soften.

“In other words, you cannot run around playing with people’s lives.”

Becker quickly spun over everything that had happened that night, and in his heart of hearts he knew what Dominic was getting at.

“Do I need to spell it out for you?”

The Administrator banged on his keyboard and up came the Dreamatorium, empty save for a janitorial crew sent in to clean up the remains of the broken Dreams. A touch of a button, however, rewound the picture back to the moment when an explosion sent Becker through the wall, and further back still, to the point when he had first entered the room.

“Now, do you deny that this is you?”

“No,” said Becker, tentatively. “But I don’t see how—”

Dominic hit play, and the action slowly moved forward, to where Becker discovered a bubble that was darker than the rest. The one that contained a young girl who had grown up in Vancouver, British Columbia, but now lived in Caledon.

“And here is where you so brilliantly
destroyed
Dream #532—a rare and delicate piece of work.”

“That was an accident. And besides”—Becker rose to his feet and pounded on the desk himself—“I thought Jennifer was supposed to get a Dream to make her feel better! A
special
Dream!”

“She was!”

“Well, it looked like a Nightmare to me! I had no choice but to go in there—”

“You’re not given enough
information
to make that kind of decision!”

The two of them were only inches apart and Simly was afraid it might come to blows.

“If you were doing your job instead of trying to be a hero, then you would have trusted in the Plan . . .” Dominic slapped the space bar on his keyboard, accessing the Dream database. “And you would have had patience to wait for the rest of the 532.”

Onscreen, Jennifer Kaley was once again surrounded by the hounding crew of bullies. Her hair was still wet from the water balloon (and the tears) and it looked like there would be no end to her suffering. But then something strange happened: the crowd dispersed and a look of wonder slowly came over her face. Something (or someone) seemed to be approaching, and she could not believe her eyes . . .

“Now here comes the good part,” explained Dominic. But he and the video were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Enter!”

One of the Tireless Workers poked his head inside.

“She’s here, sir.”

“Well, it’s about time!”

As Dominic’s assistant went to retrieve the new arrival, Becker felt himself begin to sweat. For the first time, he was starting to realize the magnitude of his violation.

“You rang?”

But when the door opened again, and Becker saw who walked in, he realized that he
hadn’t
realized the magnitude of his violation at all.

“Is that . . . ,” asked Simly, jaw on the floor.

“Yeah. That’s her.”

Judging by her bare feet and the saltwater in her hair, Fixer Casey Lake had just been yanked off a pretty tasty wave. And she didn’t look happy about it.

“I came as soon as I could.”

Casey threw a nod to Becker as if to say, “Hey, mate,” and Becker nodded back, embarrassed that it had come to this.

“I’m sorry to have to call you in at this late hour,” Dominic apologized. “But things have gotten completely out of hand.”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“You tell me! I’ve got a Fixer with a Thumb Violation, a Briefer with a 318 . . .” Dominic pulled what looked like parking tickets off his desk. “And a Glitch without a Fixer wreaking havoc on the Plan!”

“Hey!” said Simly, without thinking. “Becker’s done an awesome job toni—”

But Dominic shut him up with a glance.

“Time was a Fixer came in and took care of business—one, two, three.”

“A Glitch is no easy matter, Administrator Dozenski.” Casey thanked the Tireless Worker who brought her a towel, and she sat on the edge of Dominic’s desk. “In fact, it’s just about the trickiest bitzer in the book.”

“That’s why I need you to finish the job—because Junior here has botched the whole thing up!”

“You’re speaking about a Fixer, sir,” Casey’s voice raised to a firmer pitch, “and you will speak of him with respect!”

Fixers and Briefers were a close-knit family, bound by the crucible of what they’d endured during Training. But Dominic was not impressed.

“I’ve spoken to everyone I need to—including Central Command—and I assure you, I will have this little boy’s Badge.”

The blood ran from Simly’s face and Becker felt like he wanted to vomit. He knew the penalties for a Rule of Thumb Violation were severe, but he never considered that he might actually lose his job.

“The Court of Public Opinion will be hearing his case tomorrow, but in the meantime, Dawn is on her way, and if she gets here before it’s too early, then we could be looking at a full-blown Ripple Effect!”

The very mention of the possibility sent a shiver through Becker, for he had just seen what Ripple Effects look like firsthand. And though Casey was ready to fight for her colleague through thick and thin (after all, she was the one who’d nominated him for his promotion in the first place), such a thing could not be allowed to happen.

“I’m sorry, mate. Maybe if I can Fix this quick, I can put in a good word.”

This was almost worse than his Worst Nightmare, because at least that one he’d woken up from. His eyes fell to his Badge and the double-sided wrench that was stenciled onto it. With someone as powerful as Dominic lobbying against him, there was little doubt which way the Court would decide, and by this time tomorrow, the best job he could hope for would be Pencil Pusher. But more than likely he would just be sent back to The World to become a regular kid again.

“I’m sorry, Casey. I was only trying to help her.”

“No worries, Drane.” Lake gave him a reassuring nudge. “Everybody makes a blue of it sometimes.”

Becker nodded dejectedly, then patted Simly on the shoulder, who was fighting to hold back tears. But as he picked up his Toolkit and ambled sadly toward the door, something popped into the Fixer’s head. A Memory—only five weeks old—that had already become submerged in everything that had happened since. Perhaps this was the moment his old Instructor had been talking about.

Perhaps there was still a glimmer of hope.

Institute for Fixing & Repair, The Seems, Five Weeks Ago

On the grounds of the IFR there was a small tented pavilion where lectures, weddings, and symposiums were occasionally held. Today’s event was the Elevation Ceremony of one F. Becker Drane, a Briefer who had distinguished himself on seventeen challenging Missions, but particularly on his most recent assignment to the Department of Weather.

The entire Fixer and Briefer corps were sporting their dress blues, while higherups from the Big Building sipped cocktails and ate “pigs in a blanket” in the late summer air. Over by the punch bowl, Becker tried to steal a moment for himself, for even though it was fun to be the center of attention for a little while, the endless schmoozing, handshakes, and pats on the back had started to become a little much.

“Worth its weight in gold, huh?”

Fixer Blaque caught Becker admiring his shiny new Badge.

“More.”

The Instructor walked up beside him. With his formal attire and blue-tinted shades glinting in the sun, he was that much more impressive.

“Can I borrow you for a minute?”

“Of course, sir.”

They took their plastic cups and strolled across the lawn toward Finnegan’s Pond.
²⁵

“Is there something wrong, sir?”

“Not at all, Cand—I mean, Fixer Drane. There’s just something I wanted to show you.”

Halfway there, they crossed paths with Briefers Carmichael and Von Schroëder.

“We right on your heels, yo.”

“Ja, dogg.
Wir sind
right on your heelz.”

“
Wunderbar
!” Becker laughed as C-Note and Frau Von Schroëder bumped fists. “I guess I’ll see you on the Flip Side.”

“On the Flip Side,” they replied in unison.

Fixer Blaque smiled, then led Becker down toward the gazebo by the water’s edge. “It’s good to have friends—especially on a job like this.”

“Yes, sir.”

The gazebo itself was painted white and Blaque pointed to the gold-plated dedication that was inscribed above the stairs:

Dedicated to the Memory of Fixer Tom Jackal
Lost in Time, 13,444
All Gave Some. Some Gave All.

“Tom was my best friend. Did you know that?”

“No, sir.”

“He was a good man, and the best Fixer I ever met. Even though I know he’s in a Better Place, I miss him terribly.”

A breeze blew in and light sparkled off the pond, and Becker could tell that Fixer Blaque had something to get off his chest, so he remained silent.

“The last Mission we ever went on together was called ‘Hope Springs Eternal.’ ”

Becker had never heard of that one but he was all ears. For him, hearing about legendary Missions was almost as good as going on them.

“Back then, The World was full of despair, and everything they tried to do here in The Seems had failed to fix the problem. So a decision was made to send a group of Fixers to the Middle of Nowhere, in order to bring back some Hope.”