I nodded in understanding. In the not-too-distant past, I had actually visited a town that had been evacuated years ago because of alleged exposure to some virulent biological agent. Thus, I could accept that there were occasionally valid reasons for abandoning places that had been built. Still, what I was currently seeing around me seemed like an incredible waste of effort, and I stated as much. This sparked a conversation between me and Mouse about the relative merits of cutting’s one losses versus seeing a questionable project through to the end.
“Regardless of how you feel about them representing the squander of resources,” Mouse finally said, “you have to admit that these underground spaces are a boon in terms of our task today.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Assuming we can get to the end of this rat maze.”
“Sounds like someone’s losing faith in the mission,” Mouse chided as we rounded a corner. “How about a bit of cheese for encouragement?”
He pointed to the far end of the hallway we had just entered. There were still no lights (at least none that were on), but – with my vision set to the current band of the light spectrum – I didn’t need them to see what Mouse was indicating: an elevator.
I smiled as we began heading toward it, as the presence of the elevator was an indicator that we were still moving in the right direction. Not that I had ever doubted Mouse or his ability to guide us through the underground labyrinth of tunnels and passageways. He was pretty much the smartest person on the planet and was rarely ever wrong about anything. Still, when the strategy for this particular mission was being planned, one of the drawbacks had been the lack of complete maps for the underground sites. That being the case, the path Mouse and I had taken to reach our current destination had – to some extent – consisted of guesswork and extrapolation. In short, it was nice to know we hadn’t taken a wrong turn somewhere or gotten lost.
We stopped at the elevator doors, and Mouse began taking off his trench coat. This hinted at two things: first, that we were close enough to our final destination that the need to remain inconspicuous didn’t matter. It also implied that Mouse didn’t want excess clothing restricting his movements in any way.
Unlike my mentor, I didn’t bother taking off my outer clothing. I merely phased myself and my Alpha League uniform, and everything else fell to the ground.
“We in a race?” Mouse asked accusingly, as if my method of changing clothes was a crime.
I laughed out loud, then sobered immediately as the sound echoed through the hallways around us.
My focus now back on the mission, I asked, “Do you think he knows we’re here?”
“Dream Machine?” Mouse said quizzically as he tossed his trench coat down. “If he doesn’t, he will soon enough, so get your game face on.”
I nodded and then, assuming that Mouse was ready, gripped him telekinetically again and phased us. I then moved us through the doors (which looked as though they hadn’t opened in years) and into the elevator shaft.
Several floors below us was the elevator itself, but judging from the condition of the equipment in the shaft – rusted cables, exposed wiring, dilapidated pulleys, etcetera – I doubted that it was still functional (or would be safe to use even if it were). Like the elevator doors, everything around us probably hadn’t seen use in a generation and was covered with dust and cobwebs.
Slowly, I began lowering us down the shaft. As we descended, I spent a few moments thinking about what lay ahead of us.
Despite having gone up against bad guys before, this was officially my first mission, the first one where my presence was actually sanctioned by the Alpha League. However, because of the individual we were about to face off with – Dream Machine – putting me (or someone like me) on the mission roster had almost been a foregone conclusion.
Technically, Dream Machine wasn’t a person. He had started off as an artificial intelligence – a set of complex computer programs designed to help people with dementia, especially those having problems perceiving reality, through direct interface with the human brain.
Initially, the project was considered a roaring success. Somehow, however, the AI not only outgrew its original programming but also became self-aware. Moreover, through its incipient work with those suffering from dementia, it had somehow developed the ability to manipulate human perception. In short, it could cause people to see hallucinations, among other things. Taking on the name Dream Machine (and a masculine persona), the AI had decided that it could best fulfill its original purpose of helping people by conquering humanity. Thus, since escaping several years ago from the computer network where he was housed, Dream Machine had made world domination his top priority.
All of this flitted through my mind as we got closer to the elevator. Phasing through the roof, we found the interior of the elevator just as pulverulent and cobwebbed as the shaft we’d just left. Changing direction, I now moved us forward, taking us through the rusted-shut elevator doors.
The first thing I noticed when we emerged was light. Previously, we had been making our way through the subterranean tunnels and hallways in almost complete darkness. Now, however, there was a fair amount of illumination.
Glancing around, I saw that we were in a sizeable chamber that seemed to extend about a hundred feet ahead of us, as well as rise several stories in height. The light I had noticed apparently stemmed from two sources: electric bulbs that seemed to have been placed haphazardly throughout the area, and steel drums being used as burn barrels.
Much to my surprise, there were people scattered throughout the place – some old, some young, some alone, some with families. I had no idea where they had come from or how they’d managed to find their way this far
