THROUGH NEW BEGINNINGS
Chapter 3- Answers
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With every thousand tries that end with sorrow
Even when the sun doesn’t rise, there is tomorrow
"Numb" by A Killer's Confession
Even when the sun doesn’t rise, there is tomorrow
"Numb" by A Killer's Confession
Instead of an office, Adam was taken to a medical facility, down a long hall and through a set of double doors which connected the two buildings. There the resident doctor (at least, the man looked like a doctor) ran him through a physical exam.
Shoes off, Adam stepped onto the height scale. The doctor scribbled down the results and brought Adam over to be weighed. The man seemed quite concerned about that particular measurement, and no wonder. Adam knew he'd lost quite a bit, and it was his own stupid fault he'd gotten that way. Sure, he wasn't thinking straight. But he should have been. He never should have let himself drift so far out to sea.
He never should have let himself drown.
The doctor led him over to a med table, where he sat down and did everything he was told without complaint. The doctor checked his heartrate, breathing, temperature, and reflexes. Adam had always liked the reflex hammer, and today, he liked it all the more. It let him know he was still alive and kicking.
"Mr. Delacruz, you seem to be healthy, aside from a steep weight loss. A little weight loss is expected after stasis, but we've never seen anything like this before." He eyed Adam sympathetically, like he knew something Adam wasn't supposed to. "Did you have any unusual symptoms while on the AARC?"
"You mean, besides insomnia, nightmares, lack of appetite... paranoia like you wouldn't believe." Adam shrugged and shook his head. "I threw up blood one night, but... it wasn't constant. I had a nosebleed in my sleep and probably swallowed a lot of it. It was a... a really bad nightmare. I freaked out, and..." He sighed.
"Your nosebleed theory may be correct," said the doctor. "Unless it was an ulcer or something more extreme, such as a ruptured organ. Anything that might cause internal bleeding." Adam winced. "But since you're healthy now, that seems unlikely." The doctor wrote in his notebook and chortled. "One good thing about being cooped up there for three months... no nasty viruses."
Adam wished his behavior up there was caused by a virus. He knew the doctor was trying to lighten the mood, but he didn't find much amusement in the thought. He smiled for the doctor's sake. "I guess so."
Another man opened the door. Dressed in a dark heather suit and a black tie, his outfit matched that of the blond man from the day before--- but this man had pitch-black hair and pale, cold violet-grey eyes. The doctor reacted with shock. "Sir. Is there a problem?"
The man spoke in a rich, deep voice. "No. No problems." He motioned toward Adam. "I'm ready to interview him if he's ready to go."
"He is," said the doctor, tearing out his notes. Adam raised an eyebrow. If I'm ready? He was anything but "ready" to get his brain picked by this total stranger. The doctor handed his notes to the man, who read them eagerly. "He's healthy, but underweight by some eight, ten kilos. And the kid's just exhausted." He lowered his voice, but Adam could still hear what he said. "We might have to keep him here a while longer than the rest. Just until he gets stronger."
The man in the suit shook his head. "He'll go home with the others. He'll fare better with his family around to support him. I have a feeling he won't want to be trapped here much longer."
That's the truth.
The man beckoned. "Come with me, Adam."
Adam obediently followed the man out of the medical room, back through the doors to the other building, down the hall, and into a generic office. The room's details were sparse; the walls were completely empty, as was the bookshelf beside the window. A folder labeled 'Delacruz, A.' lay atop a barren desk. A single chair faced the desk, prepared just for him.
The man shut the door and gestured to the chair. "Have a seat, Adam. My assistant will be back with coffee soon." Adam did as he was asked, still looking around with bewilderment. Strange. There was no way this empty room was this man's office. Unless he just liked working in a completely vacant space.
The man sat down on the other side of the desk and folded his hands. "Adam Matthew Delacruz. I'm so thrilled I was able to interview you today. I'm a busy man, you know."
Adam shrugged weakly. "Don't know why you want me," he muttered. "What's so special about me?"
"You're a leader." The man smiled wide, his narrow cheeks dimpling. "I like leaders. Always have. People who can take control of a situation and hold steady, no matter the circumstance. It's why your team made it to the finals so quickly. It's why your team won. A team is only as good as its leader, and you, young man, are one of the good ones."
Adam could have responded with a vehement declaration that their victory was only one-third his contribution, but the Hollow had been so long ago now. Who was responsible for winning was the least of his concerns. So he merely shrugged in response, unsure of where this conversation was heading. "Am I really?" Hadn't his leadership been apalling as of late? Not that this guy would know what they'd been through on the AARC.
"Give yourself some credit, son," the man encouraged him. "You know when to listen to your team and when to forge ahead on your terms. That's good judgment."
If only you knew. Adam didn't deserve these compliments. He'd done nothing but force his will on his friends while on the AARC, and made some stupid decisions along the way. If that was good judgment, Adam was still trapped on the AARC.
"I'm sorry. I haven't introduced myself." The man leaned across the desk, one hand outstretched. "Call me John."
Reluctant, Adam shook the man's hand. It was firm and very warm--- a confident sort of handshake. It contrasted the coldness of his amethyst eyes. John seemed like a decent enough person, but Adam couldn't trust him; he was too closely tied to this situation. He had to be somewhere high on the corporate totem pole if he was addressed as "sir" by the staff. Adam's defenses rose; he couldn't give this guy too much information.
"Well, while we wait on that coffee, let's begin." John opened up the folder and clicked his pen. "Tell me about your home life."
Personal. More walls went up. Adam furrowed his brow. "Why?"
"I don't need your whole history, Adam. Tell me about your house, your parents... any siblings." Adam said nothing, his stubborn frown deepening. John twirled his pen twice, unblinking. "If it helps you speak up, we already have this information. I need you to answer so we can evaluate how much memory you've regained."
"My house... my house is brown," Adam answered at last. "With white trim. Two stories. I live with my parents and my older brother, Seth."
"Excellent!" John wrote down the results. Adam heaved a huge sigh of relief. His memories of home... they were accurate. Mama, Papa, and Seth... they were all real after all. A surge of happiness jolted through Adam's chest. Visions of home filled his head; he longed to go home, now more than ever. He wanted his family, his bedroom, his old haunts. Normal was so close!
"And when might your birthday be?"
Adam had to think about it, slowly drawing himself back out of the pleasant thoughts. "I... it... I think it's in... November. 2031? Yeah. November the 16th." Gosh, he sounded weak... and confused. His heart sank. Do I really want them to see me like this? Mama was going to freak out.
John nodded, writing. "A bit of hesitation, but you remembered." He finished writing just as the office door eased open. John looked up and waved in a young man carrying a small coffee pitcher, another small pitcher of milk, two styrofoam cups, and a pile of sweeteners, all on a tray. "Ah! Thank you, son." John's cold eyes sparkled. "A little coffee should wake up that brain of yours. You like coffee, don't you, Adam?"
Adam said nothing. His eyes trailed the coffee all the way down to the desk. John poured into both cups, then picked one up and set it in front of his guest. Adam reached out and drew the cup a little closer, staring down at it with a subdued reverence. "I think so," he said.
He was pleasantly surprised (though a bit offput) when he saw the same sweeteners he'd put in his first-ever (digital, but first nonetheless) cup of coffee, in front of him now. He held the cup to his nose and sniffed deeply, finding that the scent of the hot drink took the edge off his nerves. It smelled good. It smelled real. It smelled like home, like school mornings, like so many good childhood memories.
John took his own coffee and sipped it black. Then he gestured to Adam with an inviting smile. "Go on. Add a splash of milk. A couple of sweeteners. It'll taste better that way. Unless you think you can stomach straight black coffee." He barked a harsh laugh.
Adam's heart skipped, then plunged into his stomach. His pulse began to thunder in his ears.
Knock yourself out, Seth's distant voice whispered.
Even more on edge than before, Adam put down the styrofoam cup and lifted the small pitcher of milk. He prepared his coffee the same way he had that fateful morning, while John observed without a word. Adam stirred his coffee, glancing up at John several times. For lack of a better word, the man looked smug. Or, perhaps, unsurprised with the outcome.
Adam narrowed his eyes at John, then peered down into the cup while he took a sip. The heat startled him at first, but after a moment, Adam adjusted and took another short sip. It tasted just as good as he remembered--- exactly the same. Stomach churning, he swallowed a second time and stared into the cup. How did he know? How could he know?
"Is something wrong?" John rumbled, shifting.
"Sorry. It's just that I..." Adam set down the cup. "I've never... I've never had coffee before. In the real world. But it still... tastes the same."
"The simulation matched real life in every other way, didn't it?" asked John. "Even in the digital realm, coffee tastes as it should. That's the magic of Engage VET." He chuckled and took a deep sip. "I made sure our programmers got even the smallest detail correct."
Oh. "Makes sense," Adam admitted. Still... how did this man know how Adam liked his coffee? There was no way that was on the record.
The walls went back up.
With each question, Adam's answers got shorter and sharper. The longer he had to sit there, stumbling over basic question after basic question, the more frustrated he became. The only reason he didn't give up and storm out was the coffee, which kept him remarkably grounded. The fog on his mind grew a little less thick, though it still lingered. He could feel himself waking up as the minutes dragged on, and the more clarity he gained, the less he trusted John. Something about this man just didn't settle well with Adam.
Paranoia? Maybe, but this wasn't a feeling Adam could easily shake. He couldn't trust John, but he couldn't pin down the reason why; each reason he came up with sounded dumber than the last. Still, he couldn't talk himself out of feeling this way. What if he was right?
After ten minutes, John set down the pencil with a sigh. "Your answers are accurate, but nowhere near as detailed as your record," he remarked, sounding disappointed. He puffed a sharp laugh. "But it's certainly better than... whatever you gave us the last time you were here." He grimaced.
Adam raised an eyebrow, finishing off his second cup of coffee.
"But, you're not going to hear about that from me. I didn't conduct that interview." He closed the folder. "Well, Adam, that does it. It's been a pleasure. You're free to go. Take a walk, take a nap. You're open until 10:00."
Adam sighed, relieved. He crushed the styrofoam cup, stood, and strode to the door as quickly as he could, tossing the cup in the wastebin on the way out.
"Adam."
He turned around. John smiled knowingly. "There's more coffee in the break room."
Adam shook his head. "No thanks. I really need to sleep tonight." He slipped out of the room and made his way back down to the front lobby.
Adam reached the end of the hall the moment Vanessa stepped around the corner. Both jammed their heels and keeled back before they could bump into each other. The girl stared up at Adam, sapphire eyes even bigger than usual, and far less confident. Fearful, even.
Adam blinked. "Vanessa? I thought you guys were in another building."
Vanessa didn't answer. She exhaled sharply, squared her shoulders and rounded past Adam, hurrying down the hall. He watched her stalk away, his brow knit.
Odd. He sighed, put his hands down his pockets, and continued walking down to the lobby. Hopefully, once the three of them were together again, Kai and Mira would have more answers than Adam did.
Four hours and three brain scans later, the trio reunited in the cafeteria for lunch. Adam was about as interested in lunch as he was in breakfast--- interested only out of obligation. The scare of having lost eight kilos was enough, at least, to nail down the importance of lunch, even if the thought of eating still had no appeal.
Lunch was a veggie casserole, soft mashed potatoes, and spongey yellow cubes of chocolate-frosted cake. Adam skipped the cake (the sight of it made his stomach lurch), but tried to eat a small portion of casserole and potatoes. He did better than he had at breakfast, but Kai and Mira did a whole lot better. At least they both cleaned their plates. Adam pretended to still be interested in his meal, poking it and pushing it around with his fork while he listened to his friends go back and forth.
"Anyway. I don't trust her. I don't care if she says we're family; she creeps me out."
Mira winced. "Yeah, I... see what you mean. She's kind of... weird. Bad vibes."
"Insincere?" Adam offered quietly.
"Yeah," Kai confirmed. He pushed his empty plate aside and folded both arms on the table, leaning forward. "So. How'd it go for you, Adam?"
Adam thought about the concerning test results... John... the coffee. Vanessa's fear. He shrugged away the creeping dread. "OK, I guess."
"Who interviewed you?"
"Some guy named John," Adam answered, dropping his gaze back down to his plate. He forked up a single green bean and stared at it for a long moment. "I got the impression he's important around here. He brought me a coffee."
"...Huh." Kai raised an eyebrow. "Was it good?"
Adam nodded, distant. He still hadn't eaten the green bean, and he was beginning to detest it. It was dull green with a few dodgy black spots along the seam, and two little green threads sticking out at the point. Casserole cream splattered both sides. It had a pungent odor, much like the eggs he hadn't eaten at breakfast. Adam had been looking forward to eating real food again, but after getting so used to synthetic food, he found himself put off by the strong smells that came with the real deal. At least the coffee had the advantage of smelling good.
"Adam."
Adam looked up when Mira spoke to him.
Her brow knit with concern. "Are you going to eat that, or are you just gonna stare at it?"
Adam sighed and reluctantly put it in his mouth. He chewed slowly. "Anyway, he... I don't think he interviewed me in his office. The room was completely empty." His eyes narrowed. "He seemed nice enough, but... I don't know. After the coffee thing, I didn't know what to make of him. I mean, the coffee was good. With milk and a couple of sweeteners." His already hushed voice grew even quieter. "I don't know how he knew about that."
Mira looked somewhat confused. Kai eyed him with sympathy. Or pity; one of the two. "Did he say anything weird?" the boy asked.
Anger flinched Adam's chest. "Not really?" He sighed sharply, brow sinking. He clenched his fist and tried to keep his tone level. "Look. I don't need any more questions today, OK?"
"OK." The pity in Kai's eyes became painfully obvious. "Fair enough."
Is that what I am now? Adam wondered, laying down his fork. Pitiful?
"You said no more questions, but... can I at least ask to finish your casserole?" Kai offered, hopeful. "I mean... only if you weren't gonna finish it. Cause if you were gonna finish it, I wasn't gonna ask."
Adam immediately accepted Kai's offer in his mind, but said nothing. He glanced at Mira to assess her opinion. She shrugged back, one eyebrow quirked. Relieved, Adam passed his plate to Kai. "Well... can't say I didn't try."
"You did really well," Mira encouraged him with a gentle smile. "You only left a few bites. Considering none of us are up to our usual standards yet, I'd say you've made good progress."
That lifted Adam's spirit.
Just as Kai downed the last bite of casserole, a certain long-legged, magenta-blazered figure strolled into the cafeteria. He locked eyes with the inquisitive Adam for a moment, then headed straight for the lunch self-serve. He snatched a slice of cake--- only the cake--- and beelined for the trio's table. All the way, Adam maintained eye contact with him.
Chris stopped at the seat beside Adam. "Mind if I join you?"
Adam nodded toward the chair. "Go ahead."
Chris sat down, beaming that showman smile. "Well, I'm sure you'll all be glad to know the folks on high are considering sending you home tomorrow afternoon."
"Thank goodness," sighed Mira.
"Have they told our parents we're back yet?" asked Kai.
"Not yet," answered Chris. Kai slumped. "But, they'll place the calls first thing in the morning."
Adam swallowed the sudden pang of anxiety. As much as he longed to see his family, he dreaded their reaction to his physical state. He was too skinny, and he looked horrible still, like a vagrant, with untamed black curls hanging in his eyes--- and nobody had offered him a comb yet. He'd be sure to get a warm shower tonight, then make himself as presentable as he could in the morning.
Chris leaned in, motioning for the kids to do the same. He glanced over both shoulders. Once satisfied he wasn't being watched, he folded his hands. "I've got to tell you kids now before you start looking for answers. I might have said something yesterday that I... technically wasn't supposed to say." He bit his lip. "I didn't realize it at the time."
"Was that what you said about... 'doing what you did'?" asked Kai.
"Shh!" Chris hushed him. "Not so loud."
Mira's brow scrunched. "So... what is it we weren't supposed to know?" she asked. "That all seemed pretty vague to me."
"I assumed you already knew!" Chris hissed. "I thought they'd fixed your brains and restored all your memories. Maybe they did, but... I'm assuming they don't want us to remind you of that trauma, or something like that."
"That's ridiculous," growled Adam.
"Eh... Not really," said Chris. "Some repressed memories are better left forgotten. The boss told us you'd heal quicker if we didn't bring up what happened." He sighed. "I'm pushing my luck even telling you this. But you deserve to know. HollowCorp is trying to act in your best interests here. I don't agree with their method, but I get their logic."
Green lightning struck in the eye of Kai's mind. His breath hitched. Chris noticed; one eyebrow rose. "Yes?"
Kai drew a deep breath, trying to calm his thumping heart. "I had some weird... memories, I guess, resurfacing in my dreams," he explained. "About the AARC, and stuff glitching out." He hesitated. "Does that have anything to do with it?"
Chris' expression was severe. He brought his folded hands over his mouth, the gears behind his eyes turning. He said nothing.
Adam squeezed both fists. "Chris. Answer him," he rumbled.
"I'm sorry, kids," said Chris. "Nothin' doin'. It isn't up to me. If it was up to me, I'd tell you! But it isn't. So, I can't."
"Well that's helpful," muttered Mira, resting her cheek in her palm.
Chris heaved a sigh; his broad shoulders fell sharply. "I'd help you if I could. Sorry, but... I'm afraid you're on your own here." He looked Mira directly in the eye. "Don't worry. You'll put it together." His left eye twitched quickly, like a wink. A chill tingled up Mira's neck.
"But..." Kai's brow furrowed deep. "But we've waited all this time! For months! You can't even give us a hint?!"
The gears turned behind the weird guy's eyes. After a moment, he produced sunglasses from his jacket's inner pocket and pushed them up his nose, frowning. "You want answers?"
"Yes!" the three declared in unison.
"They aren't mine to give," Chris stated. Quieter, he added, "But they're yours to take. Your families can tell you some of what you want to know. Just ask before they're told to keep quiet." Before anyone could pose another question to him, Chris stood up and walked away, taking his cake with him.
The trio watched him go, burdened with more questions than ever before.