Dreams in the Tower Part 3 Read Online Free PDF Page A

Corp.
    “It’s nothing…,” he began stubbornly; then, honesty seeping through uncontrollably, “It’s everything. It’s the violence. It’s being trapped in the Plaza. It’s the…the guilt.”
    “Huhhh…” The noise she made was something like a sigh. “Well, Mike, you’re not alone. Everyone in this building feels the same way you do—it’s just we’ve all gotten so good at pushing it deep down. You know, cram everything behind these inauthentic shells or something like that.” She looked away, twirling her glasses absently in her hand. But rather than her usual boredom, her look was one of poorly-masked worry. “You’re different, and that’s why you are so important. But I guess that’s also your big fault, isn’t it? The truth is…the truth is we—no I am scared, and if I can’t rely on you…well then I guess I’m all alone up here.”
    “I’m sorry…” Mike said, unsure of what else to say. This whole situation was beginning to make him uncomfortable; this woman sitting across from him was more human now than she had ever shown before, and the effect was strange. Somewhere down beneath the scotch he felt pity.
    “Don’t apologize,” she said. She opened a drawer and pulled out a small plastic pill bottle, popped it open and slid a circular white pill into her palm. “Take this.” She handed it over to Mike, who studied it in his hand.
    “It’s okay,” Leutz assured him. It’s Sobril, a new drug fresh from the OpenLife R&D department. It negates the effects of alcohol, to some extent. After all this chaos is over these things will be on shelves in every convenience store and supermarket in the world. Take it.” Mike shrugged and flipped the little pill into his mouth, swallowing it with a gob of saliva. “Give it a few minutes,” she said.
    They sat there in silence for a minute or two and then all at once Mike felt his fuzzy drunkenness receding, leaving not even a headache in its wake. “That’s amazing,” he said.
    “Isn’t it?” Leutz had put her glasses back on and was her usual stony self again, her brief little show of vulnerability gone as quickly as it had come. It almost felt to Mike like it hadn’t even happened at all. “No more hangovers,” she said. “No more worrying about driving home. Keep this bottle. And don’t even think about drinking on your way to work again. Got it?”
    “Yeah—uh…yes, of course. Thank you.”
    “Good,” she said. “Then we can move on to your assignment. Lom hasn’t given me much to feel good about at this point.”
    And there it was: the second hammer blow. Just when Mike got rid of one of the worries gnawing at his insides she smacked him back to reality with the other. He had never been a procrastinator before—and he still wasn’t. He simply believed people’s privacy should be left alone. If he could discover anything new through normal means fine, but he wasn’t going to become just like one of the hackers they were fighting against; he wouldn’t drop to such a low level. But what would be the cost?
    After a few moments of focusing on something in her glasses’ display, Leutz said, “It’s time for a progress report, Mike. Have you found anything yet or not?”
    “Well, not really.” Mike spoke carefully and—he hoped—calmly. It was one thing to reveal his lack of progress; it was something entirely worse to make Leutz suspect he was somehow involved with her enemies. “I mean, I haven’t noticed anything.”
    “Oh, Mike, you don’t think we’re only expecting you to notice things, do you? Perhaps before I failed to convey the level of intensity this task involves.” She sighed and drummed her fingers on the wood desk. “You haven’t seen any unusual behavior whatsoever? Anything at all?”
    “Well, there is something.” He had to bring it up now, as much as he hated the idea. She probably already knew, anyway. “Bellowe is…” he lowered his voice, even though it was ridiculous to