Touch: Awakening

Part Nineteen

I shiver as a cold gust of air blows past, sneaking tricky fingers under my sweater. I should have grabbed a coat before I left my cell today. Just because it's not real doesn't mean it's not cold.

The main door to the Arts building looms in front of me, and I tug it open. All this technology, all this subterfuge, designed to trick us into thinking the lives we inhabit are better than the reality. All it does now is piss me off that I believed it for so long and wonder what's waiting outside. Possibly the ocean. That I might finally get to see if the ocean exists has me giddy.

It's almost the start of the new term, though. Time to put aside annoyances and anger and get on with the business of pretending everything's normal. The hallway's busy with profs and TAs darting in and out of offices and classrooms. I wave at another grad student, swallowing the lump in my throat. Parker should be here. Parker would be fucking ecstatic to know she was right.

I push open the door to my office and squeak at the sight of Shannon sitting in Parker's chair.

I haven't seen her since she had her extraction, and the time hasn't treated her well. Her hair's all straggly, and her skin is pale, face drawn. Dark circles shadow her eyes. "You look like shit," I blurt before I can think of a reason not to.

One side of her mouth kicks up. "Gee, thanks. 'Preciate it. You have a minute?"

I nod and pull out my chair. The only thing on the books for me today is checking in with George to see if someone new's been assigned to this office and time in the library; another title on the permissions list came in, and I need to start reading. I've been too busy with Drew to pay much attention to my research the past few days.

She stares at her hands, hair falling forward to cover her face. "Do you know what happened to Parker?" She peeks at me through the strands, her hazel eyes overbright despite her obvious fatigue.

Drew said this place was safe. He'd reprogrammed my office so conversations and visuals couldn't be recorded. And Shannon's my friend. She's sitting there with a desperate look on her face, like she wants to understand what's happening and can't.

Still, old habits die hard and all that shit. Paranoia over being reported doesn't go away overnight. "I know she was quarantined. She said a lot of things that probably got her in that situation." Like, every other word out of her mouth.

God, it sucks. It sucks even harder because Parker was right.

Shannon picks at her thumbnail. "What did she say? Was she talking about about the extraction?" She lifts her head and pushes on. "Was that it? Was that what got her in trouble? We're not supposed to remember it, but she did, didn't she?"

Ice balls in my stomach. Someone else whose memories weren't quite erased, someone else who has those fuzzy images to piece together. What else does she remember? Does she know how soft her sheets are? That her body is soft and firm and warm and meant for much more than we're allowed?

How many women are there, wandering around, screwed up in the head because our Government is fucking with our lives?

"She did," I say at last. "She couldn't keep her mouth shut about it, couldn't help herself, really, and she paid the price." I send her an admonishing look. "Don't talk. Seriously, Shan, don't. I can't...what happened with Parker could have been prevented." If only I'd listened to her, really listened to her, tried harder to help her cover everything up. If only I'd gone to Drew sooner, she might have been able to hold it together long enough to break out with us.

Shannon stares at me. "It was the touching, wasn't it? She couldn't stand it any more?" She jumps out of the chair and grabs my shoulders, then jerks away like she's been shocked. "We're blocked from it somehow. When I touch you, that's not how you actually feel, is it? It's a fucking simulation. Did she know?"