Dream Drive Ch. 05

"Who owns the most horses?" Jackson asked. "The chief, Yukutan. Who's likely to lead the tribe next? Boonta, his son. Smaller differences than my world, but they're still present."

"Everyone will refuse to accept Boonta," Chaki said. "I think Hanta is a more likely candidate. Or Gratan, the drum master."

"And that's your advantage," Jackson said. "Everyone knows everything about everyone else. In my world, things are more complicated."

"I don't see why. Everyone has more information than they could possibly need. You can use the...Google?"

"People can hide the truth," Jackson said. "Obfuscate it. There's only one truth. It's easy to bury it under so much disinformation that you can't tell which is which. The sheer amount of information is itself a problem; we have to sort it, index it, search it. You don't have to be who you really are, because perception is reality. The open networks of information everyone thought would liberate mankind became another tool used to keep it in place. Business as usual."

He said the last words with a certain bitterness. Chaki looked at him. "And so there is nothing to be done? Nothing at all?"

"How can we change society when there's a whole war being fought against the other half of the world so that we can keep living as we do?" Jackson said. "People don't want fairness and freedom; they're scared enough as it is. They just want to be secure. And there's another problem. Say I decide I want to work to change things – which side do I pick?

"Side?" Chaki's head was starting to feel stuffed again. "There are sides? I mean, people must surely agree that the way things are is bad."

"Sure they do," Jackson said. "I'd say the majority probably think things need to change. And then they immediately disagree on what to do about it. The first group is people that try to reach the upper tiers of society and work within the laws that are there. But you can't get that far up unless you play by their rules, unless you get your hands dirty – and that's when they've got you over a barrel. They're slowly corrupted and absorbed into the system, or blackmailed into shutting up, assuming they get that high in the first place. Way more likely for people with opinions like that to get shipped to Mars, or just get put away on false charges."

"...is Mars bad?"

"Never been there," Jackson said. "But it's really, really far away."

"...I see."

"Door number two," Jackson said. "I could side with the people that are fighting for the common man. They're breaking the laws in order to change society. The Wolves – the rebels."

"What's bad about them?" Chaki said. "If the laws are that bad, then maybe..."

"They're willing to slaughter people to get their way," Jackson said. "Is it okay to kill innocent people to make your point? Apparently they think the world is bad enough to justify it, but I'm not arrogant enough to become the judge and jury of mankind. So sue me."

Chaki licked her lips. She sighed. She rubbed her nose and thought hard, but she just couldn't think of how to inspire him – how to get him out of this sort of rut he'd fallen into.

Maybe it had been too long, for him. He was soaked in his own grey world; he'd bathed in it. His skin was pale because it only rarely saw the sun.

"So, that's the problem," Jackson said. "Working in the system is like trying to hold back a thunderstorm with your bare hands. Becoming a rebel is like trying to fix up a broken-down house with a flamethrower."

"There has to be something," Chaki said. "Something you can do to make things better."

"Like what?"

"You choose the third path," Chaki said. "You are allowing the world to define where you must walk. In those terms, your observations may be correct, but the prairie is open in all directions. Make your own way."

"And how the hell do I do that?"

Chaki shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"Let me know when you figure it out," Jackson said, "but seriously, Chaki, I can't even help my own mom. I'm not exactly the crusader of justice the world needs."

Chaki opened her mouth to protest Jackson's conclusion, but he abruptly turned a corner. They moved off the main street and into a pole-thin alley that wound between two large towers. Here, the streets were not as clean; the backsides of the buildings were dirtier, clustered with vents leaking steam, rusted pipes, and metal railings. They went along the winding path, avoiding pools of water and collected refuse.

They hit an intersection of alleys. There were three men, standing close together, talking quietly. As Jackson and Chaki moved close, they looked up. Jackson casually held up a hand and shook his head. The men turned away.

Chaki waited until they were a safe distance away. "What was that about?"

"Pushers," Jackson said. "Drug dealers. They always hang out near campus. Plenty of rich kids with too much time on their hands."

Chaki sighed at her own ignorance. "What is a drug pusher?"

"Do the Windseekers have...uh..." Jackson considered his words. "...mind-altering substances?"

Chaki nodded. "There are herbs, when eaten or smoked, can induce greater connection with the spirits. They are used only carefully by the elders or the spirit guides. Sometimes they are used if a child has trouble with their vision quest."

"Ok," Jackson said. "Ever taken them?"

"I have, yes."

"Ever taken a ton of them for fun?"

Chaki felt her eyebrows go up. "Why upon Mother Earth would I do that?"

"Imagine an herb that makes you feel like the happiest you've ever felt," Jackson said. "Multiply that feeling by ten. That's what those guys are selling."

"Truly?"

"Yep."

"Why are they selling them in an alley?"

"They're against the law."

"...you're leading me toward something," Chaki said.

"You tell me."

Chaki squinted. "The best feeling ever, and they don't have a proper shop. And they're in this..." Chaki eyed the dingy alleyway walls. "...place. There's some sort of catch, isn't there?"

Jackson made a mirthless little smile. "It only lasts a few hours, tops, and then you feel about 100 times worse for days afterward. The only thing that can fix it is more of the same. But then the inevitable crash gets worse, so you need more. And more. You can't stop thinking about getting that glorious high back, so you take more, until you're taking it just to feel normal. On top of that, the drug isn't even healthy. You're not just effecting your mental state – it's like swallowing little spoonfuls of acid each time."

Chaki rubbed her throat. Was she only imagining the burning sensation? "Why do people...why?"

"It's a cheap high for most. Escape. Anything is better than this. Or ignorance. The pushers offer the first hit free, get people hooked. Or the druggie started young, when they didn't understand the consequences, and they can't break the habit."

"I thought this was..."

"The better half of the city?" Jackson snorted. "I gave you the wrong impression. It just looks nicer. Remember those police officers at the station?"

"Yeah."

"Why do you think they were hanging out there and not arresting those guys?"

"...I don't know."

"Because they were paid off by someone that has a vested interest in the high-profit trafficking next to my school," Jackson said. "Speaking of which, here we are. My little slice of scholastic utopia."

They passed out of the alley and into a huge courtyard surrounded by more towers. The court alternated between squares of tan-colored stone and grassy, tree-shaded nooks. A pool with a central waterfall sat in the center of the little park; it must have been built over a spring.

The school building itself was an impressive tower; not as tall as its neighbors, but with all the open space around it, it had a sort of grandness that the others lacked. The entrance was a great stone stair, with a stone awning, supported by carved stone columns. Words were engraved on the top of the awning: The Craig Johansen Institute for Gifted Young Men.

The shift was sudden, jarring. Just behind her were horrible men selling people something terrible in a disgusting alleyway. Just in front of her was a slice of an idyllic dream, cut away from some other world and plopped between the skyscrapers. It just looks nice.

Perhaps more bothersome was Jackson's attitude toward it all. He wasn't angry about his world; bitter, yes, but mostly just explanatory. He looked at it all like someone that had come to accept it as part of the landscape. And how could he not? It stretched in every direction for miles and miles. How could she demand he find a third path when he was trapped in such a labyrinth?

Chaki grit her teeth as an annoying phrase rose up again for the umpteenth time. "I don't understand," Chaki said. "How did your world get like this?"

Jackson stared at the fountain, and he shrugged. "It was like this before I was born. It'll be like this after I die. We're all just numbers."

She felt a sudden pressure to change the subject. "Where do you get all this stone to build these things? And where does all the glass and iron come from? Even the iron men don't have this much."

"We dug it out of the ground," Jackson said. "Stay here. The cameras inside are a higher tier than public stuff; better safe than sorry."

"Why do we have to hide ourselves, anyway? If there's so many people, does it really matter? No one will be looking for someone that doesn't exist."

"Well," Jackson said, "it's like I said. Sometimes I've been a thief. It's better to stay off the grid as much as possible. Some of my earlier misadventures in cyberspace were a little messy." He rubbed his wrist – Chaki realized that his scar wasn't there. "And I don't want anyone to find out about Isis. I have no idea what the reaction would be to all that stuff. Actually - no. I do. That's why they can't find out."

"What do you think would happen?"

"Probably half of them would want to erase me," Jackson said. "The other half would want to use me, and I am not going to get sucked into the system. More importantly, I have you to think about."

Chaki drew a breath, smiled, and nodded. "I understand. What are we doing at your school, anyway?"

"I'm dropping out," Jackson said. "There's not an active draft right now, so I won't get shipped away. Just discharging my obligations so they don't come looking for me."

"Oh," Chaki said. He'd mentioned the draft during one of their long talks, but she couldn't remember the specifics. "Whatever you have to do, then."

"It'll only take me a bit. Be right back." Jackson hopped up the steps to the building. He passed a man in a tailored suit, who gave him an odd look. Jackson's clothes were definitely not the norm here. He was dressed for the alley, not the plaza.

Chaki sat on one of the benches and watched the water sprinkle down into the fountain. The campus was quiet. Jackson did tell her that school was not in session, though – apparently they took a break over the summer.

Another person made an appearance – a man in a dark blue suit, almost black, wearing a vibrant yellow tie. He was young, and quite handsome. His gold-blonde hair was combed perfectly straight; not a hair was out of place. He had a smile as bright as sunshine.

He paused when he saw Chaki, then made his way over. "Hello there!" he called. "You don't see girls on this campus too often. Especially not as pretty as you."

Chaki met his gaze. Blue eyes studied her intently, looking her up and down. He seemed polite enough, though. "I suppose not. Apparently it's for gifted young men."

"Guilty as charged," he said. He extended a hand. "Charles Ransfeld."

Chaki looked at his hand. A flicker of conversation with Jackson struck her. She reached out and grasped it. He gave her a firm shake. His hand was hard and cold. "I'm Chaki," she said.

"An exotic name for an exotic woman."

Chaki decided to take it as a compliment. "Thank you."

"What brings you to campus?"

"Just waiting on someone to finish business inside," she said.

The vagueness of her statement didn't give him much to go on. He thought a moment. "You must definitely not be from around here, if you don't recognize my name," he said. He brushed a hand through his shiny hair, as if to give her a second chance to do the recognizing. The happy smile never left his face.

Chaki nodded. "I'm definitely not from here."

"My family's pretty famous in Boston," Charles said. "My father's company developed a vaccine that stopped the spread of an epidemic a decade back. Ransfeld International."

Chaki didn't know what any of that meant, so she pushed a bland smile onto her face. She needed to make the conversation about him before he asked a question to which she should know the answer. "That sounds impressive. What brings you to the campus? Early, I mean?"

"Eh. Paperwork." Charles looked at the building. "There was a misunderstanding involving some of my summer project grades. I'm here to correct it. Nothing too important."

"I see. I hope that goes well for you."

"It will," he said, all confidence. His smile had been subdued for a moment, but immediately brightened to full-volume once more as he turned back to her. "What brings you to Boston, Miss Chaki? Not just tagging along for errands, I hope."

"Well," she said, "I wanted to see the city, too. It's the home of my acquaintance. He spoke of it often."

"You know," Charles said, "I know the city pretty well. Lived here all my life. I could get you into a few places that your average tourist wouldn't be able to reach, if you're interested."

"That's a very kind offer," Chaki said, "but I should speak with him about it, first."

Charles tilted his head. "Who's this mystery friend of yours? Maybe it's someone I know."

"It is," Jackson's voice said.

Charles turned; Chaki leaned around him to see. Jackson was standing there, hands in his pockets. "Hey Charlie," he said.

"If it isn't the infamous Jackson Vedalt," Charles said. His smile grew larger. "You're the one escorting this lovely lady around Boston, then?"

"Yeah."

"Let's say we trade," Charles said. He withdrew a thin folder from within the confines of his suit. "You do me a favor and take this into the office, there. You can meet Chaki and I at my house. I'll mail your public account the directions."

"No thanks," Jackson said.

"Why not?"

"Plans."

"Plans-shmans," Charles said. "You're always so stiff, Jack. Have a little flexibility." He looked at Chaki. "I could get us up on top of the Livingston Building – I'm sure you've heard of that. Second tallest in the world. Normally it's a bit costly, but we'll get the view and a five-star dinner for free. It'll be a night out on the town."

"No thanks," Jackson said again. His voice was flatter than a piece of dried leather.

"It's quite a favor I'm offering," Charles said. "Besides, we'll do a better job as joint-guides than on our own, right?"

"What part of no don't you understand?"

"That seemed a little uncalled for."

"The answer," Jackson said, "is no."

"Who died and elected you emperor?" Charles said. He pushed a chuckle out of his smiling mouth. She wasn't sure how he could smile and speak at the same time, but he managed it. "Why don't we hear what Chaki thinks?"

Chaki stood from the bench. They made an odd pair – Jackson, an intense, green-eyed ghost, glaring at a grinning sunbeam in a suit. She could have cut the tension with a knife. "Your offer is very appreciated, Charles," Chaki said, "but like he said, Jackson and I already have plans."

"Alter them," Charles said. "It'll be worth it."

Chaki made a slight frown at his insistence. She tried to phrase her rejection as mildly as possible. "That would be difficult. We have a meeting, you could say. We cannot avoid it."

Charles turned away from her and abruptly changed the subject. "What were you doing here, Jackson? I thought you hated school."

"What's in the folder?" Jackson asked.

"Corrections to a few grades that were miscalculated."

Jackson snorted. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Now, Jackson," Charles said, "do try to be civil. You need to keep your position as a student in mind."

"I just dropped out," Jackson said, "so you can take your blackmail and shove it right up your stretched-out asshole, you dick-sucking faggot."

Charles blinked in surprise – but his happy calm quickly replaced itself on his face. "I'm sorry to hear you'll be leaving us. You're definitely a presence on campus." Charles took a step forward, and his smile grew, until it stretched his lips practically from ear-to-ear in a way that made Chaki extremely uncomfortable. "I'm not entirely sure what you meant by that second bit. I'm not the kind of person that would do that. You know that."

"The folder says otherwise."

"Something's up with you today. I'm not sure if I like it. You're really pushing my buttons."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Charles's smile got so wide Chaki thought it would float up off his face. "Would you like to find out?"

Jackson lifted his hand with his middle finger exposed. "Here's what I think about that."

Charles made what sounded like a good-natured sigh. "I knew you'd jump into the pit someday, Jackson. I could always see you biting back your words, waiting for that moment when you finally thought you had nothing to lose and you could tell me how you really felt. I cherish those moments, because I appreciate honesty."

"I'm sure you do."

"But you've made a grave mistake."

"And what would that be?"

"You've always got something to lose," Charles said.

Jack just shrugged.

"Shrug it off," Charles said. "That's what I like about you, Jackson. You don't smile, but you just let it roll off in your own way."

"Bad teeth," Jackson said.

Charles's tone changed. He seemed more serious. "It doesn't have to be like this, Jackson."

Jackson broke their stare, glancing at the fountain. "No."

"...I see. That's a shame."

There was a strange, awkward silence. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them looked at the other. The only sound was the water trickling in the fountain. Chaki felt extremely uncomfortable.

Charles turned his grin on Chaki. "Miss Chaki, it was a pleasure to meet you. Until next time." He started off toward the school building. "Watch out for those recruiters, Jackson. They can be rather aggressive with young men that drop out, that is." He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he vanished into the building.

They stood there for a moment. It was as if a dark cloud had moved away, revealing the sun once more.

"I don't believe," Chaki said, "I've ever met someone who was so polite and so rude at the same time."

"That's Charles Ransfeld for you," Jackson said. "Let's get going. I just declared a field day."

"What do you mean?"

Jackson started toward the alley. "We've got some history, and he's wanted an excuse to come down on me for a while. Totally worth it, though. I don't care if he bends the faculty anymore. I don't go to school." Jackson stopped. "Aww, shit."

"What is –" Chaki stopped too. The three hooded men they'd passed in the alley were walking straight toward them.

"Either they had a slow day, or they're here to tear me a new asshole," Jackson said.

Chaki examined them with a critical eye. She felt at the hunting knife she had in her waistband. "We can easily defeat them."

"We can't easily explain bodies," Jackson said. He grabbed her arm. "Let's go."

****
They didn't run – but they walked very quickly. Jackson actually had to hold Chaki back.

"If we aren't going to fight, shouldn't we run?"

"Running draws attention. Just keep moving. They won't try to curbstomp us in broad daylight."

"Curbstomp?"

"I'll explain later," Jackson said. He steered them off the campus and onto the street. A block later, he risked a glance back. Their pursuers had either given up, or they'd tried to head them off another way. Jackson immediately changed direction.