Chapter 3 - Strange Dream

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Xander lurched forward. The virtual alarm clock on his bedside table rang obnoxiously, set to his ears only. The display read 7:31 am. Time to get up. He waved his armband over the scanner by the bed, silencing the alarm.

Still half-asleep, he sank into his indention in the mattress for another minute of rest, but the sheets were damp and clammy. He had sweated profusely through the night, resulting in a soaked outline. With a sigh, he abandoned all hope of comfort and pushed the bedding aside.

     Suddenly, visions of the strange dream rushed back.

     His heart pulsed as he scanned his surroundings, expecting to see something out of the ordinary. The dream had felt so real. He could remember almost every detail as if he had been there for real.

     To his left, Lyza was still asleep. A sleeping mask obscured her eyes, and her chest rose and fell softly under the covers. To his right, the rest of the bedroom appeared exactly how it had the night before.

     Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt off. He could still feel the cuts on his face, but when he reached up to touch them, he was completely unscathed. The vivid nature of the dream haunted him, yet he was relieved to learn it was only that—a dream. But even still, the jungle and the unruly barbarians all circled in his mind.

     He eased out of bed, then tucked the blankets back into place carefully to avoid waking Lyza. In the bathroom, he switched on the low lights in the shower stall, then waved his armband over an illuminated digital panel next to it, configuring the shower to his personalized settings. Warm water fell from nozzles in the ceiling and steam billowed up from holes in the floor. Scented streams of eucalyptus-and-cedar soap enveloped him as he stepped inside.

     The water ran down his back and cleansed his mind of any stress or worry, washing them right down the drain. After a few minutes, he deactivated the shower, which automatically initiated a drying sequence. Vents opened above and below, and in under thirty seconds, he was almost entirely dry.

     In his closet next to the shower, he put on a fresh set of clothes: khaki slacks, a blue button-up shirt, and a navy bomber jacket. He examined the fit in the bathroom mirror, then confirmed it with the press of a control node on the inside lining. The fabric shrank in size until it fit perfectly to his torso and shoulders.

     He rushed out of the bathroom, planted a kiss on his sleeping wife, and hurried down the stairs to start a fresh pot of coffee.

     “Morning, Orsa,” he said as he entered the kitchen. “Coffee, please.”

     The kitchen hummed to life, then Orsa spoke in a soft voice. “Good morning, Xander. Coffee coming right up.”

     With another wave of his armband, the cabinets on the wall shifted and revealed a colorful indoor garden. There were herbs like cilantro, basil, and parsley, leafy greens like spinach and kale, and vegetables like tomatoes, cucumbers, and green onions. He snagged a stalk of green onion, some spinach, and a few tomatoes from the garden, then took three eggs from the refrigerator.

     He tossed the ingredients into the kitchen cupboard, closed the small door, and pressed a button at the top. The kitchen machinery hummed, and with a faint tone, the cupboard door opened, revealing a spinach omelet and a steaming cup of coffee.

     At the kitchen table, he set down his breakfast, put on his aug-glasses, and spoke, “Orsa, open the Basset Tech network and locate AQRA.”

     “Certainly,” Orsa chimed.

     After the quick BASSET TECH logo, the white rectangular aug-screen appeared. Xander watched while he took a bite of his omelet as Orsa navigated through the network to a folder titled AQRA. To his relief, it was still locked. “Open it, please.”

     “Authentication required.”

     “Proceed.”

     A faint blue laser encircled his iris within the aug-glasses, and after a brief pause, an optimistic chime indicated success. The AQRA folder unlocked and opened. Inside, everything appeared exactly as he had left it. There was a dense archive of research notes, voice logs, environmental graphs, code scripts, air-quality data, and the heart of his private work: the Air Quality Restoration Algorithm.

     “Orsa, integrate yesterday’s sample data into this folder and optimize the results,” he said. “And make sure to lock it when you’re done.”

     “Certainly.”

     Lyza walked into the kitchen, dressed in a pink morning gown and her hair thrown into a messy bun. “Morning,” she said. “Get any sleep? You’re always working.”

     “I think so,” he said. “Woke up stressed as hell for this Volaress Innovations pitch tomorrow.”

     “You’ll do great,” she said. “But isn’t Mr. Basset leading the pitch?”

     “Yes.” He removed his aug-glasses and looked at her. “But it’s up to the Basset Tech team to come up with what he’s going to say.”

     “Pitiful. I miss his father,” she said. “Now that was an admirable man.”

     “I think we can all agree on that.” He took a drink from his coffee mug. “If we can just get Mr. Salyzar on board tomorrow, then everything should fall into place. If not—” He blinked. “Let’s not think of that.”

     “Good idea.”

     “What are you doing today?”

     “They don’t need me at the hospital, so I’m heading to the market with Desta.”

     “Keep an eye on the storms,” he said, then gestured toward the sky. “Are the girls up yet?”

     As if they had been listening, their two daughters appeared at the base of the stairs. Kassie was dressed in her school uniform, and Little Mae was still in her pajamas. The two girls ran up to each parent—Kassie to Xander and Little Mae to Lyza—and gave them both a hug. Then they said “Good morning” in unison, as they had every morning since Little Mae could talk.

     “While I love your enthusiasm, Miss Mae,” Lyza said, “you cannot wear your pajamas to school.”

     She guided Little Mae back upstairs to change, and then she called back to Xander, “Can you help Kassie with breakfast, please?”

     He shook out some cloud-shaped cereal into a bowl, poured some milk, then handed it over to Kassie. “What do you have going on at school this week, Kass?”

     “My science fair is on Friday.”

     “That’s right,” he said. “And you’ve been working hard on your project?”

     “Of course, Daddy,” she said, then pushed up her glasses. “My project is on rocks so I can be just like you when I grow up.”

     “Sounds like you’ll need an awesome rock collection to take samples from. But where could we find something like that?”

     “Daddy!” Kassie snorted into her cereal, spraying milk on the counter. “You forgot you have one, didn’t you?”

     “Not a chance! I never forget about my rocks.”

# # #

The Oakes family shared breakfast until Lyza announced it was time for school. The girls hugged Xander one last time before they ran upstairs to retrieve their backpacks. He gave Lyza a quick kiss goodbye, grabbed his workbag and aug-glasses, then made his way to the garage.

He climbed into his car and said, “Orsa, take me to work, please.”

     The car activated with an electric hum, the headlights flashed, then Orsa chimed from the dashboard, “Setting navigation to Basset Technologies.” The garage panel then opened, allowing Orsa to reverse the car down the driveway and into the street.

     On the way to work, the sky was dark and gray, threatening the let the rain pour at any moment. People and cars flooded the streets as he passed through Neighborhoods C, B, and A before entering the business district. Nestled right up against the West Wall of Astor was his office, Basset Technologies. The building was a repurposed warehouse built from recycled scrap metal and wood.

     The entrance was located on the left side of an underground parking lot, designated by two glass doors covered in BASSET TECH logos. He stepped out of his car, then approached the entrance, waving his armband over the scanner on the right side of the doors. A chime, followed by a flash of a green light, indicated his identity was confirmed, unlatching the lock. He put on his aug-glasses, then pushed the doors open and walked inside, waving his armband over the light scanner.

     Standing at the entrance, he watched as the abandoned appearance of the warehouse was masked with an augmented layer. The dark room transformed into a bright space with clean white walls, concealing the harsh, dungeon-like reality of Basset Technologies.

     The main floor of the office was a shared workspace filled with about thirty aug-desks or so, organized neatly in rows of three. But Xander had a private office, one of the few perks researchers received here. He walked along the left wall, then stepped inside his office. It was a small room that contained a single aug-desk with a chair, and another chair for visitors.

     He plopped down in his chair and an aug-screen appeared in front of him, displaying bubbles of highlights, emails, and even the weekend news. He took a moment to check his folders, making sure his private research was still intact, and then he thumbed through a never-ending trail of emails.

     Over the next thirty minutes, his coworkers arrived one by one and filled the empty workspace until it buzzed with activity. Some passed by his office, waving as they went by. They saw each other almost every day. There was no need for formalities. And besides, everyone reserved their energy for the arrival of Mr. Basset.

     For the days that he spent on the surface, Basset was always late. The man lived as a Floater hybrid, spending two weeks at his lavish unit aboard Volaress II and the other two weeks in the trenches of Astor. And even though he was surface-born like the rest of the office, everyone knew he preferred to identify with his Floater lifestyle.

     Once a Floater, never a Lander.

     After the last coworker came through the entrance, Xander went to the break room by the entrance to refill his water bottle. Right as he passed the front doors, they swung open and Mr. Basset stormed in.

     The unsightly man grunted as he walked in, breathing heavily. He carried himself with an unpleasant expression, with one eyebrow curled in a disapproving shape.

     “Good morning, Mr. Basset,” Xander said.

     The man didn’t say a word, but instead went inside his own private office and slammed the door. The atmosphere of the shared workspace shifted once he was gone. They would not see him again until the midday pitch prep meeting.

     An already unscrupulous Mr. Basset became even more unpredictable during times like this. He acted like his company hinged on every new contract, because it probably did.

     His father Winston, the original Mr. Basset, single-handedly ingrained the Basset Respirator as the industry-leading example in personal air filtration, while impressively still maintaining ethical practices. He established a vast corporate empire in just one lifetime to pass it all on to his only son, Gary Basset.

     After Winston’s sudden death, Gary lived in the shadow of his father’s success, never quite measuring up. His emphasis on profit over practice deemed him a less commendable figure. This clearly made him bitter, and he never failed to take his bad temper out on the Basset Tech team.

     When Xander returned to his office, Orsa chimed, “The AQRA data set has been finalized. Would you like to view the results?”

     He surveyed the office to make sure no one was around. “Proceed.”

     The blue laser scanned his eye once more, and then the folder opened. A graph with an orange line appeared, representing all of the samples taken within the last few years. He watched closely as yesterday’s data swirled into the mix, resulting in a sharp upward tick in recent air-quality degradation.

     “Shit,” he said, shaking his head. “What’s making the air worse?”

     The orange line then split into colored sections, each representing different quantities of air pollutants. Blue for nitrogen oxides. Red for sulfur dioxide. Green for volatile organic compounds. And yellow for tremocline—a synthetic pollutant that Xander discovered with AQRA.

     “What are you working on?”

     His stomach dropped. He pushed the AQRA folder out of sight, then glanced up at the office door. Standing there was his coworker, friend, and the office’s unofficial informant, Leta.

     “Nothing,” he said. “Just clearing out some emails.”

     “Sounds exhilarating,” she said, taking a step inside. “Mind if I sit?”

     “Go ahead.”

     She walked in and dropped into the chair across from him. “You ready for this Volaress Innovations pitch prep meeting today?”

     “I think so. You?”

     “I’ve got data to present, even though I report my findings directly to Mr. Basset. But this one sounds right up your alley.”

     “Trust me, I know.”

     “I’ve heard Mr. Salyzar is a piece of work.”

     “Everyone on that ship is. We already know that.”

     “Mhm.” She tightened her eyes on him. “There’s a rumor going around.”

     “What rumor?”

     She stood and moved behind his aug-desk, then leaned in close and brought her voice down an octave. “It sounds completely absurd, but someone said that Mr. Basset offered you and your family tickets aboard Volaress II. Is that true?”

     His chest clenched. “You really think he would do that for me?”

     “No, I don’t, actually.” She leaned away from him and walked back to the door. “He doesn’t like you that much—or any of us for that matter. Since when do Floaters hand out tickets to Landers? And besides, it would be in violation of several laws anyway. The whole idea seemed preposterous.”

     “Right.” He took a breath of relief. “Because it is.”

     “Well, I had to ask.” She stopped by the door and turned back to him. “You never know what secrets are floating around here.”

     “What’s your obsession with secrets?”

     “You know, they’re kinda my thing.”

     He rolled his eyes at her and laughed. Yet, underneath his composure, he panicked. How did someone find out about the tickets? Did Mr. Basset tell someone? That couldn’t be. Basset had made it very clear that this offer was to remain private. But now, this made Xander worry that something might have changed.

     Leta returned to her desk and hopped into the aug-environment with the rest of the office. Xander lowered his head and returned to his work. His mind was hazy and his eyes dreary from the early morning brain fog, but the pile of pending work soon captured his attention.

# # #

After lunch, the entire office gathered in the large meeting room adjacent to Mr. Basset’s private office. All twelve employees scattered around the edges of the room. Some sat in chairs, while others clung to the walls. Xander found an open chair at the end of the long, glass meeting table and sat down.

     The room floated in an eerie stillness. But then, Mr. Basset burst through the door and stomped into the room. He dropped into the chair on the opposite end of the meeting table and let out a groan of disinterest as he tossed a stack of papers across the surface. Everyone looked down while he skimmed through them. When he was ready, he peered up at the team with bloodshot eyes. “Who’s first?”

     The question was met with an impenetrable wall of silence. After an extremely awkward minute or so, Mr. Basset asked, “Oakes?”

     “Of course, sir,” Xander said with a shaky start. “Over the past few months, the team has compiled air-quality data to support your pitch for Volaress Innovations, the technology development company for Volaress.”

     He paused for a moment to look through his notes. “The Facility, a hillside research center outside Astor, has provided Volaress Innovations with a steady stream of technological breakthroughs for the last eighteen years. This partnership has shaped Volaress airships into what they are today. However, recent reports have indicated a strain on this relationship, making now an ideal moment to deliver our pitch to Volaress Innovations and their new director, Florian Salyzar.”

     “Great,” Mr. Basset said. “And?”

     Xander would have done anything to be anywhere else right now. He glanced at Leta, who stood against the wall a few employees away from him. She smirked and mouthed the words, “You’ve got this.”

     “What Volaress Innovations needs now,” Xander continued, “is an updated approach to their atmospheric stabilizer systems. By utilizing our own database of air-quality samples, we have created a proprietary filter unit that is more accurately calibrated to current air pollution metrics than any other filtration device on the market. Our units can be retrofitted for their systems on board Volaress ships. We should present our latest filtration unit processing core to secure Mr. Salyzar as a faithful and long-term investor.”

     Mr. Basset scowled from the other end of the table. “Who’s next?”

     As the other employees delivered their reports, Xander clenched his jaw. The truth was that he despised Mr. Basset more than he despised the state of the world. But the man had him in a chokehold.

     “Is there a problem, Oakes?”

     Xander realized that he was glaring at him. He snapped back to the present. “No, sir.”

     Mr. Basset stood, indicating that the meeting had concluded. Each of the employees shuffled out of the meeting room and went back to their aug-desks. As Xander approached the door, Mr. Basset slammed it shut and faced him.

     “Not you,” he said. “You stay.”

     Xander groaned internally.

     Mr. Basset walked back into the meeting room. “Nice work with the pitch prep.”

     “Thank y—”

     “So when were you planning on telling me about your secret endeavor?”

     “Sir?”

     Mr. Basset rolled his eyes. “Don’t act stupid, Oakes. I know about your private research. I know about AQRA.”

     “Sir.” He took a breath. “That research is private work. It’s encrypted. No one has access to it.”

     His boss laughed. “Nothing is ever private, Oakes. Not here. Not on my watch.”

     Xander blinked in shock. How did this happen?

     “And don’t worry,” Mr. Basset continued. “I’m not mad. But I do know you based your work off Basset design. So, in a way, I already own your research.”

     “But sir—”

     “Which is why I want you to lead with that tomorrow.”

     “Wait.” Xander’s heart exploded. “You want me to lead the Volaress Innovations pitch?”

     “You know it better than anyone.”

     “But sir,” he said as he took another moment to compose himself. “AQRA is not ready. It’s still in the testing phase. And if it works, it could fix the air. If it works, there wouldn’t be a need for the Basset Respirator anymore. It would . . .” He paused to take a breath. “It would destroy your company.”

     Mr. Basset smirked. “Not if we can sell it.”

     Xander shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

     “I do.” His boss inched closer to him. “You get to change the world, Oakes. Let me open the door for you.”

     Xander was silent.

     “How does Lead Air Systems Researcher sound?”

     “That’s not a position here, sir.”

     “It can be. And it can be yours if you pull this off. If you secure this partnership.”

     “Like a promotion?”

     “Sure.”

     He thought for a moment, then said, “Alright, sir. I’ll do it.”

     “That’s more like it.” Mr. Basset put a firm hand on Xander’s shoulder. “We’ll take the seven a.m. hypertrain to Fortress and enter Volaress II from there.”

     “Wait—”

     “That’s right. Most Landers never get the chance, so consider yourself lucky.” Mr. Basset walked back to the door, opened it, then turned to him. “And Oakes, don’t embarrass me.”

Then Mr. Basset left the meeting room, leaving Xander alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t have foreseen this. His boss had effectively dumped all of the responsibility on him, the afternoon before the pitch.

# # #

The rest of the workday blurred out of focus, and before he knew it, Xander was on his way home, stuck in afternoon traffic. This was the routine of every day.

     Once home, Orsa parked the car in the garage while Xander gathered his work bag and prepared to step out. After a brief flush of air, he hopped out and went inside the house. He found Kassie in the living room, interacting with an educational aug-environment.

     “Hi, Kass,” he said. “I’m home.”

     “Hi, Daddy!” She waved at him in the opposite direction, blinded by her aug-glasses.

     “Where’s your mother?”

     “In the office.”

     “And your sister?”

     “Upstairs looking for Ducky and the Princess.”

     “She’s always finding new ways to lose that book.”

     He strolled through the foyer and into the home office. Red light from the street outside came through the window, casting a neon glow across the room. Lyza sat at the aug-desk in the center, scrolling through digital manuals and old mechanic textbooks.

     “Hiza,” he said. “What’re you up to?”

     “Hiza,” she said, not turning her eyes from the manuals. “I got some peaches at the market today, and when I got home, I was craving a slice of peach pie. But the damn kitchen is broken. There’s a glitch affecting the ingredient synthesizer.”

     “Good thing one of us understands autonomous kitchen mechanics,” he said. “Or else we’d all go hungry.”

     “Oh, stop. I can still cook.”

     “I know, but that’s why we have Orsa. You’ve got more important things to do.”

     Lyza scrunched her face at him. “How chivalrous of you.”

     “Seriously,” he said. “You’ve always been the bright one. I knew that from the moment I met you.”

     A memory flashed in his mind—him strapped to a hospital bed, squirming in pain. He was eighteen years old and a survivor of the Western Fracture. His hometown had been wiped out by a tsunami and both his parents and siblings were presumed dead.

     Unfamiliar faces suffocated him, and then, like a beacon of light, he remembered the nurse’s soft eyes, her beautiful blonde hair, and the immediate relief he felt when he saw her. He couldn’t remember anything from before that day, but when he saw her face, that didn’t matter anymore. Her face felt like home. It felt like remembrance. He knew from that moment he would marry that girl.

     “And from the moment I met you,” Lyza said, imitating the way he said it, “I knew you’d need lots of attention to fix that broken body.”

     “Watch it.”

     “But I fixed you, didn’t I?”

     “Yes, you did, nurse.”

     “And I fixed that broken heart of yours too, didn’t I?”

     “You sure did.”

     They leaned in for a kiss, but Xander hesitated.

     “What’s wrong?” she asked.

     “There’s something I need to tell you.”

     She pulled away from him. “What’s going on?”

     “I’m leading the pitch tomorrow.”

     “What? Why now? What the hell happened?”

     “Basset says I know it better than anyone.”

     Lyza blinked.

     “And if I pull this off, I’ll finally get a promotion.”

     “See, Xander! What did I tell you?”

     “There’s another thing, too.” The realization of what it all meant hit him in full force. “I’m going to Volaress II.”

Next Chapter:

Coming Soon - Nov 12

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