“Yeah, pretty much.”
“What happens to the treated individual?”
“Nothing, Dylan, my boy, according to this website, worldwide healthcare is now free for all. Apparently, part of the issue of the widespread plague stemmed from too many people around the world not getting treatment because they couldn’t afford it, so the disease spread out of control.”
Hoping Dr. Wilcox would get the message, I returned to rummaging through the things in the pile. Thankfully, he did and went back to searching on my omniphone. Just as I reached to pull something off the top, another object started careening down the side. I caught it just before it hit the floor. “Is this a camera?”
“Not exactly. It’s a projection camera.” Dylan showed me how to hold it and told me to take a picture of him.
I did so, pressing the capture button at the top.
“Now press the button next to the viewfinder.”
When I did, an exact 3D projection of the image materialized in front of me. “This stuff is amazing.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve spent hours digging through all of it. I’ve found all sorts of treasures. Most items are early prototypes, but some are already being sold.” Dylan picked up a small device the size of a pebble. “For instance, this one has been on the market for a while. It’s a nanobot for dust cleaning. You simply place one of these in your room and it will crawl all over the place eating everything in sight. Once it’s full, it deposits its contents in the trash and goes back to what it was doing.”
“Oh, my goodness, Allie.”
My body tensed up as Dr. Wilcox came back over.
“Are natural disasters really as common as several hundred per year? Major floods, tsunamis, hurricanes, and tornados ripping up the earth every day?”
I let out a puff of air. “Dr. Wilcox, you can believe almost anything you find on the education section of the Network. Nothing is placed on there unless it’s by an expert. Any other section, you can question.”
“Uh, Dr. Wilcox, you can keep searching things on Allie’s communicator. I think I’m going to take her around Oceania some more.”
The happiness faded away from Dr. Wilcox’s face. “Oh, very well, then. I will be here when you’re ready to retrieve your device.”
Gratefully, Dylan and I escaped Dr. Wilcox’s workshop and made our way northeast to the adjoining district. On the train ride, Dylan told me we were heading to the Utility District, where the power stations and water and sewage treatment plants were located. Three enormous blue-gray box-shaped buildings took up the space of probably ten or so blocks. A large fence surrounded the area, with warnings posted on the outside of both the sewage and power stations.
“Dylan, it doesn’t look like we can get in.” I searched around for an entrance but found none that didn’t require an employee access code.
“I know. The only place where ordinary civilians can go is underneath the complex.”
Confused, I followed Dylan to what looked like a shed beyond the outside of the fence. The door opened easily to reveal a long set of stairs disappearing down into darkness. Dylan used his communicator device as a flashlight, illuminating at least twenty steps in front of us.
It felt like an eternity walking down those steps, but finally, we reached a catwalk. Standing at the railing, I peered out at an expansive area extending as far as the eye could see. Winding up, down, through, and coiled between others, were pipes of assorted thickness and color. They hung from the ceiling, and twisted and twined in a myriad of ways that had my head spinning.
“Where are we?”
“In the first sublevel of Oceania. Here is where all of the waste and used water is collected.”
Reaching inside my pocket, I dug around for my omniphone, and then remembered it wasn’t there. “Does your communicator have a magnification screen? I want to get a better look at those pipes on the ceiling.”
“Yeah,” Dylan pressed a button on his shirt and a pocket appeared. Pulling out his communicator, he handed it over to me. “And we call ours c-coms.”
“C-coms?” I smirked, holding back a laugh as Dylan handed it to me.
“Yeah, it’s short for ‘clam communicators.’ Since they’re the shape of orbs like a pearl, it reminds us of clams, so we call them clam communicators or c-coms for short.”
“Okay, thanks.” I swept through the many screens until I found one with the image of a magnifying glass. Touching it, a holoscreen came up in which I could use my hand to swipe over whatever I wanted to see. “This is really cool.”
“Our tech is highly advanced.” I glanced over at Dylan, a smug smile gracing both corners of his mouth.
Using the magnifying screen, I zoomed in on all the piping, finally able to discern where they came from and led to. The smallest ones were copper-colored pipes bunched in scattered regions throughout the area. The less numerous concrete-gray ones had girths the width of sequoia trees. Fire hydrant yellow pipes stuck out the most and seemed to be the rarest. “How does all of this work?”
“The pipes collect water and sewage from the city to transport them to the treatment towers, but the real marvel is below us.” Dylan leaned over the
