Socket 3 - The Legend of Socket Greeny (4 page)

I hear rain battering the roof. In front of
me there’s an angry ocean, the waves white-capped and the water
black in-between snaps of lightning.

“Everything all right?” Someone grabbed my
elbow.

I was holding onto the car door. My entire
body was quivering with the numbing sensation of a vision that
normally only trickled down my neck. My gums felt dead; I tapped my
teeth together to get the feeling back.

“Yeah,” I said. “Just… I was, uh, just
remembering something.”

It took a second, then I recognized the
someone that grabbed my elbow was a Paladin named Jaret. He helped
me lean against the car. I sensed he was about to call for
assistance, maybe bring a few servys down to check me out. I had
enough strength and sense to convince him I was fine. I stood up,
barely able to keep from swaying. He watched me get in the car. I
waved him off.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Training caught up to
me. I didn’t hydrate enough, that’s all.”

He waited, until I said, “No, seriously. I’m
fine.” I left with a glance back to make sure.

What the hell was that all about? A vision
only a few days after that last one? And during the daytime with a
full-body numb out?
The details were so vivid. I felt
transported to another space and time, like I was standing on a
sandy beach. I should’ve reported it, but that was sure to screw up
the whole evening. I’d do it when I got back. They could lock me up
in the infirmary if they wanted.
Just not before
tonight.

“Are you ready?” The car spoke in a calm,
feminine voice.

I took the wheel. “I’ll drive.”

“Very well. It is currently 60-degrees in
Charleston, South Carolina. The wormhole transport is cleared for
entry. After exiting, you are approximately thirty-four minutes
from your destination. Please obey the laws and drive
carefully.”

An image of the boulder-field materialized on
the dashboard. I eased the car over the slick floor and through the
apparition of the cave wall into the field. The face of Garrison
Mountain went up several hundred feet behind me, like a wall of
resistance that the world needed to respect. It was the first thing
tourists saw when they approached. It let them know we were big and
strong. That they were safe.

I crossed the field and entered the dense
trees on the other side to the swirling mass of the wormhole. I
left Garrison Mountain behind. But the vision of the beach came
along.

Cars were parked along side the road leading
to the high school. Dozens of shuttles picked people up and carted
them to the tagghet stadium. I continued down the road, people
staring.

“There’s no parking up there, dumbass,”
someone shouted.

Shuttle drivers directed me to turn around
but I eased down the road until I reached the turnabout that looped
in front of the massive high school steps leading to the front
doors. I gave the car instructions to park somewhere far away; I’d
call for it when I was ready. She said, “Certainly.”

No one stared at me once I was out of the
car. It wasn’t like they couldn’t see me. I wasn’t invisible. It
was a simple mind trick, that’s all. I convinced people that the
space I occupied was not interesting. They saw me. They just didn’t
care.

The car waited while I stared at my
reflection in the window. My hair, still white, was long again, but
not like a few years back. I’d gotten in the habit of pushing it
straight back over my head, but it didn’t stay there long, much
like Mother’s behind-the-ear habit. Most of all, I noticed what
Chute called
the serious look.
My eyes were piercing; my jaw
muscles flexed and my lips were a thin line.

“Smile a little,” Chute would say, and
squeeze my cheeks.

So I practiced in the driver side window. It
looked like something from school pictures. Third grade. I tried
again and it just got worse. “Go,” I said, waving the car off.

I’ll wing it.

I followed the crowd toward the tagghet
stadium, one of the most expensive venues ever constructed at a
high school, all funded by the Paladin Nation as an apology for the
duplicates’ deadly assault a few years earlier. The team went
undefeated in the inaugural season, became nationally ranked, and
had South Carolina’s MVP
.
A girl with red hair.

The extravagant entrance was crowded. Little
kids dipped their hands in the rectangular pond and high school
teachers handed out brochures about the evening’s events. A fox
mascot tickled kids with oversized cushy hands.

The concession stand was inside the main gate
selling popcorn and drinks and souvenirs to a packed crowd. Three
girls passed by with green and tan shirts,
33 – 0
plastered
on the front. On the back was Chute’s face, a game photo of her
holding her helmet with one hand and the curved tagghet stick in
the other.

Most Valuable Player
.

A vendor pushed through the crowd, holding up
hats and towels. “You got any shirts?” I shouted.

He looked around, noticed I was standing
right next to him. He reached in the box strapped over his
shoulders. “I got three kinds, which one you want?” I nodded at the
girls. “You want the girl shirt? All I got left are pink. You want
the pink?”

“I’ll take it.”

He sold it to me and moved on. I pulled it
over my head. Pink. No one saw me anyway.

I walked past the pedestrian ramp that led to
the upper deck. The corridor was filled with displays hosted by
student clubs and local charities. The awards night was as much for
civic awareness as it was for jocks. I remained unnoticed until I
saw the crowded display ahead.

It was the Student Virtualmode Club. They
were future programmers that built elaborate virtual worlds and
constructed complex gear to transport a person’s mind out of their
skin and into a sim where they could experience the Internet in
virtualmode. Holographic monsters walked across the top of their
banner. A hulking rock monster thumped its chest and an armored
knight broke his sword over its head. The kids laughed, then
watched a dragon waddle over and incinerate the rock monster.

The virtualmode students were talking to
adults, explaining what the club did, extravagant membership fees
and field trips. They touted the highest graduation rate among the
student body and the highest grade point average. And scholarships,
too. There were more scholarships available in virtualmode world
building than any career field out there.

The bulk of the crowd was gathered in front
of a short, plump kid explaining a gadget in his right hand. I
leaned against the wall, near enough that I could hear what
Streeter was saying.

“It will revolutionize the way we
communicate,” he said. “Our minds are as unique as our
fingerprints. We can find anyone after we meet them by using this
to capture their
mindprint.
You’ll never lose track of
family, friends or even pets. We can call them, link up with their
mind, and then virtually
see
them as if they’re in front of
us. Virtually touch them. Space will become irrelevant.”

“Not only that, once calibrated with your
mind,” Janette said, “it will record every thought and emotion you
experience. It will record your
entire
life.” Janette was by
Streeter’s side. She was short, too. “The government has already
asked for a demonstration. He’s flying to Washington next week.
NASA wants to buy the rights.”

Streeter looked at her and smiled. He may as
well have batted his eyes.

“What do you mean
virtually
see them?”
a dad asked.

“This gear,” Streeter said, holding up the
half-globe, “will link your mind with, say, your grandmother living
in California. Your eyes will see her in front of you. You’ll see
what she’s doing right this second, like she’s in the room.”

“Let’s see it work,” someone said.

“All right.” Streeter scanned the crowd.
Little kids raised their hands, jumping up and down, shouting
me, me, me.
He swung his finger around like a spinning wheel
to pick the winners. He placed the gear against their foreheads,
one at a time, and asked them to think of a friend or relative. And
when they did, a holographic image of planet Earth materialized
with a glowing dot on it, signifying where the person they were
thinking of was located. And he was right, every time.

“Big deal,” a kid said. “You said we’d see
them.”

Streeter smiled. “Oh, you’re going to see
them. I’m going to pick someone at random and dial up whoever that
person thinks of?” He circled the spinning finger. “You ready? Huh?
Who’s going to be the lucky one?”

Me! Me, me, me!

The finger spun around. Parents were even
raising their hands. The crowd grew larger. Streeter worked them
like a street performer, waving his hand around and around. It
started to come down to pick a winner—

Thunder rumbles through the sand under my
feet. The next flash of lightning illuminates the silhouette of a
figure in front of me. The heavy rain blurs the details, but I
notice the knife in the right hand.

“You there, in the pink shirt.” Streeter was
pointing at me. People were staring. “Yeah, you. I’m talking to
you. Wake up. What’d you say?”

I was still leaning against the wall but
couldn’t feel my legs. I don’t know how I managed to keep from
sliding down to the ground. My entire head was ringing like a bell.
I was moving my mouth but nothing was coming out. Now the kids
watching the holographic battle turned around and looked.

“Hey there, stranger.” Streeter came over. He
laughed nervously, looked back at the crowd and pulled on my shirt.
“That’s a nice shirt. Isn’t that a nice shirt, folks?”

They laughed nervously, too.

I managed a single step and it reverberated
to the top of my skull. It hurt, but it brought me back, flushed
away the heavy dullness.

“What’s your name, stranger?” Streeter
asked.

“Um. Socket.”

“Boy, you nervous or just excited?” The crowd
laughed, went along with the joke.

“Just, um, a little nervous, I guess.”

“Nothing to be nervous about, my friend.” He
held up the gear. “Now I’m going to ask Socket to visualize someone
in his family. That person is going to materialize in front of us.
Now, normally, only Socket would see this person, but I’ve
calibrated the gear to project it for all of us to see. But first,”
he put the gear in my hands, slightly heavier than a paperweight,
“we need the locator to find Socket in time and space. Once it
finds him, standing right here, it’ll seek out his mystery
guest.”

Others joined the crowd to watch the pink
shirt, funny-name kid holding a paperweight. All I could think
about was the thunder and the lightning and the knife, how the
figure felt familiar. And how I’d never had two visions in one day.
Panic began to rise, along with a thought:
Not again.
Something was changing in me and I didn’t understand it. Things
like that made me nervous.

“Close your eyes, Socket,” Streeter said.
“Let the locator connect with your being, much like a virtualmode
transporter pulls you from your skin.”

I took a deep breath and relaxed. I was
already feeling normal again. The last thing I wanted to do was
freak a whole bunch of people out. I closed my eyes and gripped the
locator tightly. I could feel it travelling through my arms like
filaments, searching through my nerve lines for all my organs and
the awareness of my being. It was a good prototype, but now I
understood why Streeter chose me. It wasn’t ready to fully connect
with a normal person. He needed extra-perception, someone like me
to assist its communication. So I fully engaged with the gear,
letting it merge with my awareness.

“There we go,” Streeter said.

I opened my eyes. A hologram of Earth
materialized in front of us, turning on the axis, like it had done
with the others.

“So the locator is finding Socket, it’ll show
us where he is, and then we’ll ask him to…”

The crowd began laughing. A dot was glowing
in the United States, but not in Charleston, South Carolina. It was
in the middle of Illinois.

“You’re only off by 800 hundred miles, kid,”
someone said.

Several people walked off, someone tossing
in, “Good luck in Washington. Loser.”

“No, just a second.” Streeter took it from
me. “I forgot to reset the… it’ll still work…”

But he lost them. They were heading for their
seats. The ceremony was going to begin in ten minutes anyway.

“Man, why’d you have to go and do that?” He
scowled.

“I didn’t do anything,” I said.

“Because I made fun of your pink shirt?” He
stared at it. “Why are you wearing a pink shirt?”

I showed him Chute’s face on the back.

“They have those in other colors, you
know.”

“I didn’t buy it for the color.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t work on you. And
what’s with the look of shock? You knew I was going to call you and
then you looked like you were going to start drooling. You having a
seizure?”

“Yeah, well, I just was… thinking of
something. You caught me by surprise.”

“More like I kicked you in the balls.”

“Hi, Socket.” Janette bobbed on her toes,
holding Streeter’s hand.

Janette and I talked while Streeter went over
to the display. She liked my shirt and asked how I was doing and
how excited she was for Chute. “Are you two going inside?” I
asked.

“We got to break down the display,” Streeter
said. “And recalibrate this, apparently.”

“You’re close, Streeter. The code was correct
and most of the internal structure. It must be holding some data
from previous reads.”

“We could take it back to the lab,” Janette
said, “run another test drive to realign the synapse relays.”