Vheissu - PART 2
General Rating: R
General Warnings: dystopian setting, implied character death
Disclaimer: 100% fiction
II
Ever since he had been taken that night, Carles had only thought of escape. There was no law in Metropolis, no regulation, no prison and no guard that could keep him away from his love.
For a man of his age to fall into such teenage-like drama, it was rather odd, but Carles had been an upstanding citizen for as long as he had been taking his own decisions, so being locked up on the down-low felt like a reprimand of his feelings.
His feelings were the root of everything that had happened ever since he met Gerard. For the longest while, he couldn't stand his seemingly shallow flat-mate, but somehow he found himself gradually falling in love with the tall blond. Being loved back and all their few shared moments had unshackled his enormous ability to love and all that it entailed: self-sacrifice, hard-headedness and endurance.
And all it took was for one night of passion, their very last night before Gerard disappeared into thin air. Carles had felt that night as his rebirth, when he had decided never to look back, to dive right into the already overpowering emotions. However, his lover was gone the very next day, never to return.
At first Carles was just disappointed, since Gerard had come home for only one day before getting back to work, but as the days turned to weeks and weeks then to months, Carles became worried. Worried enough to try to find where Gerard was and what had happened to him.
Apart from the outburst leading to their first intimate moment, Gerard didn't talk much about his work, but Carles knew about Project Vheissu, soon everyone knew. And one day, after two months had passed since last hearing from his lover, Carles decided it was time he tried to get to the bottom of things. He left work early, asking a team-mate to cover for him and he went straight to the Project headquarters, hoping they would at least guide him towards the right people who'd know of Gerard.
He had been turned at the gates, the brutal rebuttal a mere promise of what would follow later that night. Upon getting a first negative answer, Carles being told no Gerard with that particular identification number was listed on the Project's worksheet, he had become too furious to contain himself. His outburst of rage, fueled by the longing in his heart and the belief that he was being taken for a ride had been met with equally forceful measures. They had beaten him severely, allegedly for disturbing passersby and trying to bring Metropolis order into disrepute.
Later that night, as Carles had been trying to take a nap despite the painful bruises on most of his body, they had come for him. He had been tied up, gagged, blindfolded and then taken away. He had known that very instant this had to do with Gerard and Vheissu, the project being in full swing. There could be no other reason, which befuddled Carles one one side, determining him even more to find the truth and get Gerard back.
Carles had always been a disciplined man. It was the only thing helping him from losing his mind when he welded hour after hour every day. Upon waking up in what was not exactly a prison, but more of a holding facility seemingly underground, Carles had immediately decided he would escape. No matter how long it took, he would find a way to get back to Metropolis and especially to retrieve Gerard from wherever he was being kept. He pushed back any thoughts of Gerard being in any danger or in a terrible situation, he banished them from his mind and simply focused on the task at hand, just like he always did.
There had been no interrogations, no visits, he only talked to the few guards on duty and they had been instructed to never answer any questions on the reason why he was kept in a cell. Undergoing such silent treatment he had come to the natural conclusion that the sole objective of his incarceration was keeping him away from the world. And as far as Carles was concerned, his world was Gerard. Therefore, his sole objective became getting out and reuniting with his lover.
Thinking of his lover - who had been obviously prevented from coming back and by how well Carles knew Gerard, it had been against his will - had been his sole solace and motivation.
It took Carles two years to plan and perfect his getaway. It hadn't been easy, as he had first had to gain the guards' trust and get all the information about the place he was locked in. Then he had to map out the facility from scraps of information and figure out the most convenient way out and all that without revealing his true intentions. Carles wasn't a stupid man, but as far as he was concerned, his rank was accurate, so plotting and planning something so complicated was definitely a bit out of his league. But he had given his best - the passion in his heart motivating him more than anything and he hoped it would work.
Finally, after so much caution and so much struggle, the night had arrived, the night he escaped, the night where the rest of his life finally began. He had managed to harvest a few items he would need in order to break free and he had eaten his last ever facility-provided dinner. As lights went off for the night, he prepared his backpack and quietly started dismantling the bed. Behind the headboard, he had dug a tunnel that connected his cell with the prison's main sewer.
As he had deduced from his apparently innocent chats with the various guards, as every building in the City, the facility shared the Metropolis sewage system, the same pipes carrying the residues of the entire City to the Outside world. The only issue that remained unplanned was finding the correct junction and heading back towards the City, swimming counter-current. Because otherwise, Carles would end up Outside, with very poor means of ever getting back into Metropolis.
Armed with a sketchy map of the sewer system he had drawn himself, Carles counted only on his innate orientation skills to get himself through to the right side. As he was growing up and moving from flat to flat with his parents and then later by himself, he had discovered this was a true ability he possessed, as far as the National Tests were concerned, his only one. That night, Carles would learn how skilled he was, as he rebelled for the first time against Metropolis.
Thinking back for some reason, Carles had not had a bad life because of the system. He had been a behaving cog in the machinery, working all day, paying his dues, moving flats when he had been told to and generally living the life of a well-adjusted citizen. He had never imagined he would ever become a rebel, that he would ever stand up to the City nor go against it. But then again, he never imagined he'd fall in love so deeply, so powerfully that he'd be ready to do anything possible to find his lover. Smiling one last time at the cell's front wall and it's closed metallic door, Carles thought there had to be a first for everything.
Without looking back, he then crawled into the tunnel he had dug throughout the years, night after night, his sole motivation the greater than life love for the man he had been taken away from. He spent a while covering the exit, trying to conceal the way he took to escape. The manual work required for that purpose absorbed him as he tried not to think what laid ahead of him, nor of the perils he was facing.
When sealing the exit from the inside was done, he proceeded on his way to freedom. Advancing slowly, Carles covered the ten meters separating his cell from one of the sewage pipes. He remembered fondly how he had made a hole in the pipe, allowing him to go through. It had been the only time when he had used his extensive welding knowledge for solving a real life problem. However, the sight greeting him was obviously not a pleasant one, the stench making his nose curl in disgust. But it was the only way to leave the holding facility. He looked at the meter-wide pipe filled with viscous residual waters. Even if the pipe was large enough to allow a grown man's passage, he had to dive in completely with no room for getting air.
He had memorized the map of the sewer before destroying it and he knew it was about 50 meters to the next junction, with what he hoped was a larger pipe, where he could keep his head up for breathing. Carles was strong and he had swum before, so if it all went well, he would only have to hold his breath for one minute. He had been practicing in his cell, but in a real life scenario, he could only hope it actually worked. Closing his eyes and taking a final deep breath of air, he dove into the sewage.
The waters were cold and, as expected, dirty. He couldn't see, keeping his eyes shut the entire time, so as he advanced, he felt the pipe's walls for the next junction. The current was strong and Carles could already feel tiredness engulfing him. He was well built, he had exercised all this time, but the stream seemed too much for him.
But he kept on going, trying to imagine away the pain already bubbling in his chest, he kept fighting the current. He had to admit he was beginning to feel his age, each of his thirty-seven years a brick upon his shoulders. But he battled the current, fighting the tiredness off, swimming and thrashing the filthy waters to the end of his powers and beyond. With nothing to cling onto to stay afloat, the pipe's slimy walls not helpful in any way, Carles advanced slowly, his forces waning little by little.
He hadn't been in the waters for long when he realized he would never make it. The air in his lungs was almost done and his body screamed in pain, his limbs refusing to move anymore. He was getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen and he knew that if he blacked out, that was it.
The thought of dying like that, like a rat in the sewer was annoying, especially that the next passage wasn't that far ahead. He had so much to live for, he had to make it, and not for him, not out of selfish reasons, but for Gerard. He had the duty to find out what had happened with his lover.
But want and do were two different things and as much as he tried, Carles had maxed out and his body was becoming weaker and weaker, unable to resist the current falling behind.
He could feel how he was slowly slipping into unconsciousness, the residual waters of Metropolis soon to become his tomb when he felt something grabbing him, arms pulling him out to safety, to breathable air.
***
With the rather unresolved crisis caused by one of the Minds' deviant behaviour, Xavi found himself working even longer hours than before. These were the days when he caught himself wishing he hadn't obtained such a high rank during school, so he wouldn't have to work so much and in such a complex position.
He had always been level-headed, conforming to the City requirements, he had taken the tests seriously and had aced them and had accepted majoring in chemistry, even if he was far more interested in architecture. He had gotten his second degree as well, because Metropolis had requested it of him. He was working his ass off so to speak and giving a lot to the City, and from time to time, he felt the city wasn't giving back in proportion. This was even more accentuated by the fact that David wasn't contributing to Metropolis at all.
Of course, Xavi was too smart to complain, not even in private, to David, as he knew any false step would be severely punished. He also felt David would mock him and provoke him into saying things he didn't really think, so it was just wiser to say nothing at all and keep the appearances.
Heading home later and later each day, Xavi soon found he was no longer able to relax, David's carefree presence growing more and more annoying than it had ever been soothing. It enraged Xavi to the point where he started doubting the very foundation of their relationship. Sometimes he went to bed thinking perhaps love wasn't enough anymore, but he tried to chase such thoughts away, scared of ever finding out it was the truth.
After what had seemed like an endless day, Xavi reached their flat and entered, feeling ridiculously burdened. David was home, as always. Ever since their last fight, David had been far more cautious about his timing and had never once been away by the time Xavi had arrived home. Xavi had also tried to stop caring about his lover's daily activities, expecting only to have dinner ready when he got home, eating and falling asleep his sole desires for the days' endings.
Lately, it felt they had stricken some sort of truce, that they were tiptoeing around each other and that it was becoming obvious. It was the longest time of walking on a minefield around one another and Xavi had to wonder why was it taking them both longer to return to genuine feelings for one another, to the comfort of before. They ate chatting lightly about the new Metropolis project of creating an artificial brighter daylight aimed to replace the current reflectors, followed by an exchange on real food prices going up.
“We can afford it, David, don't worry,” Xavi assuaged his lover, but his tone was rather irritated.
David caught it and flared his nostrils, aware that he had to be careful with what he said, since Xavi was in a bad mood and naturally, he shouldn't complain about food being expensive when he wasn't making any credits himself. But David was sick and tired of having to keep his mouth around Xavi lately. His lover had changed a lot since he had become one of the heads of the Science department on Project Vheissu. Of course, David had known Xavi only for a little time before the project was initiated and only as roommates, where they'd have brief encounters in the morning and in the evening. David still had a job at that time and thinking back, losing his job, the commencement of Project Vheissu and becoming lovers had all coincided. Xavi had always worked hard, but only lately had he begun to be a pain in the ass because of it and David - regardless of his own flaws - was no longer keen to stand it. After all, he himself had his own problems, feeling being treated unfairly since his early years and having little luck in finding the Outsiders or a job!
Still, Xavi was extremely stressed lately, moreso than any other time and he no longer talked about Vheissu, which was the only aspect of Xavi's work that interested David. In fact, they were barely speaking properly, having a real conversation seemingly frowned upon.
David wasn't the kind of guy to cave in and be a doormat, even if Xavi was effectively maintaining him, but he didn't want their relationship to die. He decided his lover needed to let it all out, finally shout at him to his heart's content or at least let out some steam. Both for himself and for Xavi, he wanted to save them.
Suddenly feeling generous with his grumpy lover, David got up, rounded the table and grabbed Xavi's hand. Without a word, he towed him towards the bedroom they both shared and David tried to engage him sexually. Usually, it worked, as typically Xavi's libido was high and that kind of thing always got him going, no matter the circumstances. Somehow, this time Xavi took the route of complete motionlessness, not even bothering to feign interest as David attempted to remove his clothes. Xavi closed his eyes and had no other reaction than remaining limp, his lips pursing slightly.
David felt incredibly frustrated and stepping away from the bed, zipped his suit back. He wanted to leave the room immediately, but the way Xavi had remained helpless on the bed, his suit half off felt so pitiful, he just couldn't go away. He sat back on the bed next to his lover and grabbed his hand.
“What's wrong?” David wondered, feeling completely dejected as Xavi opened his eyes and looked at him with so much sadness.
“I just...feel so tired.”
“Isn't this a way to relax though?” David's voice soared with anger.
“It's not enough, it's no longer enough,” Xavi found the courage, the inner strength to speak what had been bothering him for a while.
Everything he tried to be and everything he was not was finally getting to him and he no longer had the power for such trivial matters. He got up, sadness bubbling in his chest. He caressed David's cheek without making eye-contact and he walked out of the room.
“I'm sorry, darling. I don't know what's happening to me anymore, please forgive me. I'll sleep in the other bedroom, OK?”
Leaving a dumbfounded David behind, Xavi closed the door, battling the start of a nervous breakdown.
***
Carles woke up suddenly, his lungs filling with stale air, but air nonetheless. He last recalled almost drowning in the sewage and being pulled out magically at the very last second.
He opened his eyes carefully and looked around. From where he was laid, he could see a group of people sitting down in a circle around a radiator. He could tell he was still in the sewers, because of how it smelled, but it was breathable and apart from the natural moistness, everything was dry, including his clothes.
His whole body hurt, his throat stung when he tried to swallow, but he was still alive and Carles was feeling extremely grateful. He tried to get up and his moves attracted attention from the group.
As he struggled to sit upright against the clammy wall, a tall man with long hair in a ponytail approached his place, followed by a couple of others.
“You shouldn't try to move, just rest your battered body for a while,” the man said, squatting to look at Carles.
“It was you, the one who rescued me,” Carles uttered, starting at the man and at his strong, heavily tattooed arms.
“Yes. It was pure luck that I was on patrol in that section and heard you though. Normally, we only find bodies of men less resilient than you.”
Carles shuddered, remembering he could've really died.
“Who are you?” he asked, trying to sit in a more dignified position.
“I am Zlatan. Together with my clan of Outcasts, we run the whole of the underground.”
Carles nodded slowly and looked at the group. He had heard the stories, about rankless people, people who either skipped school altogether or didn't take the National Tests and who the City had stripped of their citizenship, banishing them to live in the sewers, but Carles hadn't believed such people existed. Since school was mandatory up to the National Testing, he failed to understand how it was possible for registered children to not be enrolled in the system.
He wanted to ask Zlatan a lot of questions, but he realized it could be seen as rude. The last thing he wanted was to offend the man who had saved his life. He just looked at them, as they stared back at him, probably deciding on what they wanted to know of him.
“So, who are you and what were you doing almost dying in the sewage?”
And Carles filled them in. He told them about his imprisonment and the reasons therefore, the same as his reasons for trying to escape. As he spoke, he understood that he was closer than ever to succeeding in his attempt. Having made it through a near-death experience had opened Carles' eyes and he had become fearsome and far more hopeful about his chances of finding his lover.
When he finished recounting his story, Zlatan looked around and exchanged glances with his comrades and friends. He then reached out to shake Carles' hand.
“Just like you, we are trying to defeat the system. We made a good life for ourselves, even if it's in the smelly shadows of the underworld. But we have proven that we don't need Metropolis to live, to fall in love or to be happy. Since we rescued you, you're now one of us and your path is our path now. We will help you rescue your lover.”
***
Francesc sat on the balcony, watching the sunset. He had never cared about the outsides before, not that there was anything to give a damn about. For him the day started well into the afternoon when he normally woke up. He lived his life mostly during the night time, in the nightclubs and as fas as he knew, so did Lionel.
However, it wasn't surprising that he enjoyed the sights more now, since Vheissu read its inhabitants' hearts' content and offered them exactly what they most desired.
They had both discovered that they found more meaning in sitting together quietly on the couch, enjoying the silence, or gazing at the sky changing colours as night charged in than they had ever found in drinking themselves silly in the clubs they used to frequent in their first life.
They had started calling their early years in Metropolis their first life. They both felt that Vheissu had given them a second chance at a different kind of life, and even if - as before - they still had everything on a silver platter, this time they didn't have to pretend to be living the life of the rich everyone thought they should live.
Thinking back, it wasn't as glamorous as everyone seemed to think. Their friends - first separately, then their group of faithful friends who most often than not risked a lot just to help them meet one more time - had all been the same, all of them daredevils pretending to own Metropolis and doing anything to appear cool and fashionable. They were, in fact, just spoiled brats who didn't understand how privileged they were and how they were wasting their lives away.
Both Lionel and Francesc had slept with almost everyone in their group before, in the massive post-thrys orgies, but now when they sat in bed curled around one another they had to wonder why they used to think that was the most fabulous thing to do.
Sometimes they tried to imagine that they'd have calmed down, settled back into normality and into a far less extreme life had they been allowed to be together back in Metropolis. Lionel was quite sure that had they been able to get a little flat all for themselves and their respective families had blessed their union, they'd be sitting in bed all day, just listening to each other's heartbeats and it would've been enough.
Francesc was a little less sure about this, thinking that with the way people of their caste conducted themselves and with the kind of things they were expected to be up to, Metropolis had wired them for self-destruction and that even together, they'd have continued their merciless attacks on common sense and kept up their crazy antics.
However their lives would've panned out in Metropolis though, they both agreed that what Vheissu was offering was far more satisfying, as in the dream world they could be anything they wanted.
Lionel joined him on the balcony, bringing homemade cookies. Finding new interests in a more domestic, tamer life had been one of the noticeable changes. Apart from making love whenever they wanted, which was unchanged, they had both noticed a progress in their relationship.
Because even if physically they would be forever 21, it was undeniable they had become more mature, tackling their lives and their relationship differently from before, when their sole need was to be permanently in physical contact with one another.
Nowadays, just being in each other's presence was enough, their mental connection stronger, more unifying than holding hands. A smile was all the other needed to know everything was in order and making love had turned from something akin a drill exercise into something deeply intellectual, entirely meaningful on its own.
They both acknowledged that and they knew this probably wouldn't have happened in Metropolis, the City and its demanding lifestyle preventing them from moving to the next level.
For old times' sake, Francesc reached out his arm, his hand grabbing Lionel's. The other man looked up and smiled. Their closeness revisited, they remained holding hands as the night set over their beloved city.
***
Together with Zlatan, Carles devised the plan for finding Gerard. As it all began and ended with Project Vheissu, a thing Zlatan could debate for hours, their best start was to get into the headquarters. If Gerard had been an important part of the project, Carles didn't know, but it was their only clue concerning the missing engineer, so that became their starting point.
Trying not to get himself drawn into a debate with Zlatan over the purpose of Vheissu, Carles tried to stay focused on the task at hand. As far as he was aware, Vheissu was a private project, backed by the Government Council. It offered rich people the option to leave Metropolis behind and live in a perfect dream world. Since leaving Metropolis physically was borderline impossible, Carles could understand the attraction for such a nonsense idea. To him, life was what one made of it, with the good and the bad. For a welder, Metropolis wasn't the worst thing possible. Carles worked hard for his credits and contributed to the economy just like everybody else. Sure, he hardly ever afforded real meat or real vegetables and he could never access vacation implants or other pleasures richer people got, but he was healthy, he had a great flat and he had found love. To wish for a perfect life in a perfect world and to give your life for that not to mention a pile of credits felt ridiculous to him. In principle, rich people paying a hefty amount of credits just to be killed and be implanted in a perfect world seemed a quirk he didn't really mind.
Zlatan though, was adamant about Vheissu being a project aimed at stamping on the poor again and again. Since the people affording to leave for Vheissu were already rich and had far better lives than the likes of Carles, the whole perfect dream world was a slap in the poor man's face, also indicating that despite all the slogans, Metropolis was far from being a perfect world.
Carles didn't want to argue with Zlatan, who was a very opinionated person, mostly because deep down, he thought Vheissu was a hoax and social implications thereof didn't merit a discussion. There was only one thing rooting against this belief, and this was the fact that, somehow, Gerard was part of it. Gerard was a genuine person, a truly good person, even if a bit wacky and unpredictable and he was part of the project, so maybe there was something more to it than playing pretend and cheating people out of their credits. Either way, he was soon going to find out, as this time he wasn't going to ask the nice way, but explore for the answers himself.
After much talk, they finally agreed that Carles should go alone. They would accompany him to the location and help him break into the building, but Carles had made it clear that he wanted to do this all by himself.
Equipped with jamming devices and a stun gun, Carles was escorted by his new friends right to the imposing building. Seeing it again, Carles felt a little uneasy about sneaking in, but there was no other way to find out what had happened to Gerard. Saying goodbye and hoping it would go well, he began climbing to the first floor and made it inside through a window left open.
Jamming the internal transmission by activating the device and throwing it into the hall, he glided along the corridors, sneaking past motion detectors and cameras, sleek like a shadow. On the first floor there were so many identical white doors and after the 3rd corridor, Carles felt lost. He could only go that far before he bumped into someone. He was ready to defend himself, but he wasn't sure he would be able to use the gun. He knew that once he started taking people out, he'd give himself away and soon a mere stun gun wouldn't be enough. Vheissu was definitely important if they had bothered to keep him locked for so long just because he had questioned a project member's prolonged absence.
Seeing that all the doors were identical, bearing no markings, he opened a few at random, but each proved to be either storage rooms or empty offices.
Retrieving the jamming device, he proceeded to the lower floor, his instinct leading him to believe that that was where the labs could be. Since Gerard was an engineer, working on the technical aspects of Vheissu, he belonged in a lab far more than in an office. Carles reached the ground floor and simply jammed the transmissions again, not bothering with the wide reception hall. He continued his descent, all the way down to the basement floor, where he assumed the laboratories had to be located.
Indeed, Carles was not mistaken, as the big double door in the middle of the hallway was labelled “Dreamcatcher Laboratory”. Jamming transmissions again, he walked with baited breath towards the big door. Stopping for just a second in front of it, just to take a deep breath, he opened the door slowly and snuck in. Making no noise at all, Carles closed the door and found himself in a pristine white room, tiled from floor to ceiling. Two men dressed in white overalls watched the various highly coloured scenes on a big screen, absorbed by what they were seeing and not noticing Carles' entrance.
Carles gazed at the screen as well, attracted by the bright colours he had never seen before. He realized that the beautiful deep green forest, with its leaves dancing in the wind and the turquoise sea washing a silvery yellow beach and the glorious sun a colour he didn't recognize setting behind blazing white mountains were all scenes from Vheissu. He stood by the door, mouth agape, fascinated with the beautiful imagery and he could feel raw emotion in his gut. Then he finally noticed the people part of this, their happy faces and radiant smiles, the people living their perfect lives in their dreamscapes. Vheissu was indeed real and what the greatest minds in Metropolis were creating looked fantastic and impressive. He had to admit he was moved and quite a little satisfied to have been proved wrong.
It took the greatest strength to pull himself together and take his eyes off the screen. Upon realizing he had to hurry, he cursed himself for wasting time with such unimportant things and proceeded to look around the laboratory. He noticed the giant computer, with its white cables and grey hoses, with its host of blinking lights, the centerpiece of the room, placed right under the screen. It must've been the dreamcatcher. Whilst plotting the rescue together with Zlatan he had been able to read everything available to the public on Project Vheissu and he knew that the dreamcatcher harvested and processed the dreams of Metropolis' three greatest minds, as per the hopes and wishes of the paying customers.
Knowing this, his gaze followed the hoses, realizing they weren't actually grey, but rather translucent and that they seemed grey at a first glance because of whatever they were carrying, which was indeed grey. Soon, he noticed that the two visible tubes were connected to silvery white pods, each a plastic and glass case placed to the left and to the right sides of the room. Momentarily forgetting what he had come into the room for, he decided he needed to see what the cases contained. If what he had read was correct, the pods contained the greatest Minds in the City, the very ones who generated the dreams. He was closest to the right hand side one, and making sure both technicians were still absorbed in the pictures on the screen, he advanced towards it.
It only took a glance to realize that the dark blond man sleeping peacefully in the pod hooked to the machine through the translucent hose was none other than Gerard. Understanding hit him like a sledgehammer, the need for secrecy, the lack of answers, the arrest for asking too many questions, it all made sense, somehow. Since Gerard was one of the Minds and the Minds' identity was the project most fiercely kept secret - as both the Metropolis authorities and the Project's Board felt it would be dangerous to the Minds' own life to divulge who they really were - of course Carles strolling down to ask about one of them had been deemed foul and he had been incarcerated.
With this revelation, something else clicked in Carles' mind. While he had always considered Gerard to be smart, intelligent and probably ranked well above him, learning that his lover was considered to be one of the three smartest people in the City was nothing but astonishing. Sure, he had known Gerard was working for an important project and that first and last night of love he had found out he was working for Metropolis' most ambitious project to date, but he had never imagined the man he loved was something akin of a genius. Gerard seemed so aerial, so shallow, and he was incredibly young - only 25 at the time, so the discovery was shocking for Carles. Regaining his cold blood with difficulty, Carles analyzed the current situation. Sure, it was a bit more complicated to rescue Gerard now, when he knew he was so intimately part of Project Vheissu, but it wasn't impossible.
The man he loved was creating perfect lives for rich people who already had more than anyone else, while being deprived of his own life, of his own happiness, of his very own perfect love story. In these circumstances, Zlatan's opinion on Project Vheissu made a lot more sense. Indeed, the images on the screen had touched him, he had felt those people's bliss. But when they could already have whatever they wanted in Metropolis it seemed downright cruel to wish for even more and force someone to renounce their own life for that purpose. Some well placed bastards were indulging in perfection, while Gerard and himself were robbed of even their little meaningless life together in a two-bedroom flat, of their crummy life of eating artificial food and never having any delights other than each other's company.
Carles felt enraged. All his careless attitude towards Vheissu disappeared, replaced with feelings of social injustice and oppression. He had been locked into a dungeon only so that a bunch of Metropolis' richest could access an even greater artificial happiness. He felt like smashing the glass with his bare hands and rescuing his lover, running away and dying for the right to tell him he loved him in the real world, as bad as it was. Ethically, he was as entitled if not more to take Gerard out - even if that meant their doom - as they were to live their dream lives.
Carles must've made a bit of noise with his rising levels of fury, as at that moment, one of the technicians turned around and saw him.
“Hey!” he let out, startled to see the intruder.
Carles was taken by surprise and shot on the spot, the young man collapsing limp on the floor. The other man put his hands up, not sure if his colleague had been killed or not and not wanting to share his fate.
“Can the Minds be awakened?” Carles asked, the ideas coming to him immediately while panic left him.
The technicians were so young, all he had to do was look determined, in control and he could get the answers he was looking for.
“What?”
“If I open the sleeping pod, will he die?” Carles pointed at Gerard's pod, rephrasing the question.
“I... I don't know, I'm not sure!”
Carles frowned, he didn't know what to do. He looked menacingly at the boy. The last thing he wanted was to endanger Gerard, but at the same time, he needed to get out of there as soon as possible.
“I'm not going to kill you. But I need to wake him up, I have to take him away from here and I want to know if it's feasible!”
“Sir, I just supervise the machine, but I know the Minds are kept asleep by powerful drugs, the head physician knows more. If you'll just let me call him, he could...”
The technician turned to the control board, to show Carles the intercom, but his sudden move alerted Carles, who panicked again and shot. The boy fell to the floor, just like the other, leaving Carles with just as many unanswered questions as before.
Alone, he approached the pod again, leaving caution behind. He was far from being anywhere near familiarized with medical procedures, but upon a close inspection of the sleeping pod, Carles could see that the only cable going in was the one connecting Gerard to the dreamcatcher. He looked at Gerard through the clear glass, the younger man was sleeping so peacefully. The technician had said that sleep was chemically induced, so opening the pod would not automatically wake him up.
Placing a hand on the glass, right above where Gerard's heart was, Carles felt so emotional. He decided to go for it and after he would pull out the tube, pick him up and carry him to safety. He knew Zlatan's gang waited for him outside and he knew their doctor could help Gerard.
He looked at the control board at the top of pod and finding the right button, he pressed it. The pod started opening, the lid sliding slowly downwards, to reveal its precious contents little by little.
Immediately the alarm went off, clearly set to start upon any unauthorized handling of the pods, the shattering noise invading Carles' brain even if he tried to shut it out as he attempted to remove the dream pipe and hoist Gerard out. As guards poured in and seized Carles, he roared his lover's name, begging him to wake up.
Part III
General Warnings: dystopian setting, implied character death
Disclaimer: 100% fiction
II
Ever since he had been taken that night, Carles had only thought of escape. There was no law in Metropolis, no regulation, no prison and no guard that could keep him away from his love.
For a man of his age to fall into such teenage-like drama, it was rather odd, but Carles had been an upstanding citizen for as long as he had been taking his own decisions, so being locked up on the down-low felt like a reprimand of his feelings.
His feelings were the root of everything that had happened ever since he met Gerard. For the longest while, he couldn't stand his seemingly shallow flat-mate, but somehow he found himself gradually falling in love with the tall blond. Being loved back and all their few shared moments had unshackled his enormous ability to love and all that it entailed: self-sacrifice, hard-headedness and endurance.
And all it took was for one night of passion, their very last night before Gerard disappeared into thin air. Carles had felt that night as his rebirth, when he had decided never to look back, to dive right into the already overpowering emotions. However, his lover was gone the very next day, never to return.
At first Carles was just disappointed, since Gerard had come home for only one day before getting back to work, but as the days turned to weeks and weeks then to months, Carles became worried. Worried enough to try to find where Gerard was and what had happened to him.
Apart from the outburst leading to their first intimate moment, Gerard didn't talk much about his work, but Carles knew about Project Vheissu, soon everyone knew. And one day, after two months had passed since last hearing from his lover, Carles decided it was time he tried to get to the bottom of things. He left work early, asking a team-mate to cover for him and he went straight to the Project headquarters, hoping they would at least guide him towards the right people who'd know of Gerard.
He had been turned at the gates, the brutal rebuttal a mere promise of what would follow later that night. Upon getting a first negative answer, Carles being told no Gerard with that particular identification number was listed on the Project's worksheet, he had become too furious to contain himself. His outburst of rage, fueled by the longing in his heart and the belief that he was being taken for a ride had been met with equally forceful measures. They had beaten him severely, allegedly for disturbing passersby and trying to bring Metropolis order into disrepute.
Later that night, as Carles had been trying to take a nap despite the painful bruises on most of his body, they had come for him. He had been tied up, gagged, blindfolded and then taken away. He had known that very instant this had to do with Gerard and Vheissu, the project being in full swing. There could be no other reason, which befuddled Carles one one side, determining him even more to find the truth and get Gerard back.
Carles had always been a disciplined man. It was the only thing helping him from losing his mind when he welded hour after hour every day. Upon waking up in what was not exactly a prison, but more of a holding facility seemingly underground, Carles had immediately decided he would escape. No matter how long it took, he would find a way to get back to Metropolis and especially to retrieve Gerard from wherever he was being kept. He pushed back any thoughts of Gerard being in any danger or in a terrible situation, he banished them from his mind and simply focused on the task at hand, just like he always did.
There had been no interrogations, no visits, he only talked to the few guards on duty and they had been instructed to never answer any questions on the reason why he was kept in a cell. Undergoing such silent treatment he had come to the natural conclusion that the sole objective of his incarceration was keeping him away from the world. And as far as Carles was concerned, his world was Gerard. Therefore, his sole objective became getting out and reuniting with his lover.
Thinking of his lover - who had been obviously prevented from coming back and by how well Carles knew Gerard, it had been against his will - had been his sole solace and motivation.
It took Carles two years to plan and perfect his getaway. It hadn't been easy, as he had first had to gain the guards' trust and get all the information about the place he was locked in. Then he had to map out the facility from scraps of information and figure out the most convenient way out and all that without revealing his true intentions. Carles wasn't a stupid man, but as far as he was concerned, his rank was accurate, so plotting and planning something so complicated was definitely a bit out of his league. But he had given his best - the passion in his heart motivating him more than anything and he hoped it would work.
Finally, after so much caution and so much struggle, the night had arrived, the night he escaped, the night where the rest of his life finally began. He had managed to harvest a few items he would need in order to break free and he had eaten his last ever facility-provided dinner. As lights went off for the night, he prepared his backpack and quietly started dismantling the bed. Behind the headboard, he had dug a tunnel that connected his cell with the prison's main sewer.
As he had deduced from his apparently innocent chats with the various guards, as every building in the City, the facility shared the Metropolis sewage system, the same pipes carrying the residues of the entire City to the Outside world. The only issue that remained unplanned was finding the correct junction and heading back towards the City, swimming counter-current. Because otherwise, Carles would end up Outside, with very poor means of ever getting back into Metropolis.
Armed with a sketchy map of the sewer system he had drawn himself, Carles counted only on his innate orientation skills to get himself through to the right side. As he was growing up and moving from flat to flat with his parents and then later by himself, he had discovered this was a true ability he possessed, as far as the National Tests were concerned, his only one. That night, Carles would learn how skilled he was, as he rebelled for the first time against Metropolis.
Thinking back for some reason, Carles had not had a bad life because of the system. He had been a behaving cog in the machinery, working all day, paying his dues, moving flats when he had been told to and generally living the life of a well-adjusted citizen. He had never imagined he would ever become a rebel, that he would ever stand up to the City nor go against it. But then again, he never imagined he'd fall in love so deeply, so powerfully that he'd be ready to do anything possible to find his lover. Smiling one last time at the cell's front wall and it's closed metallic door, Carles thought there had to be a first for everything.
Without looking back, he then crawled into the tunnel he had dug throughout the years, night after night, his sole motivation the greater than life love for the man he had been taken away from. He spent a while covering the exit, trying to conceal the way he took to escape. The manual work required for that purpose absorbed him as he tried not to think what laid ahead of him, nor of the perils he was facing.
When sealing the exit from the inside was done, he proceeded on his way to freedom. Advancing slowly, Carles covered the ten meters separating his cell from one of the sewage pipes. He remembered fondly how he had made a hole in the pipe, allowing him to go through. It had been the only time when he had used his extensive welding knowledge for solving a real life problem. However, the sight greeting him was obviously not a pleasant one, the stench making his nose curl in disgust. But it was the only way to leave the holding facility. He looked at the meter-wide pipe filled with viscous residual waters. Even if the pipe was large enough to allow a grown man's passage, he had to dive in completely with no room for getting air.
He had memorized the map of the sewer before destroying it and he knew it was about 50 meters to the next junction, with what he hoped was a larger pipe, where he could keep his head up for breathing. Carles was strong and he had swum before, so if it all went well, he would only have to hold his breath for one minute. He had been practicing in his cell, but in a real life scenario, he could only hope it actually worked. Closing his eyes and taking a final deep breath of air, he dove into the sewage.
The waters were cold and, as expected, dirty. He couldn't see, keeping his eyes shut the entire time, so as he advanced, he felt the pipe's walls for the next junction. The current was strong and Carles could already feel tiredness engulfing him. He was well built, he had exercised all this time, but the stream seemed too much for him.
But he kept on going, trying to imagine away the pain already bubbling in his chest, he kept fighting the current. He had to admit he was beginning to feel his age, each of his thirty-seven years a brick upon his shoulders. But he battled the current, fighting the tiredness off, swimming and thrashing the filthy waters to the end of his powers and beyond. With nothing to cling onto to stay afloat, the pipe's slimy walls not helpful in any way, Carles advanced slowly, his forces waning little by little.
He hadn't been in the waters for long when he realized he would never make it. The air in his lungs was almost done and his body screamed in pain, his limbs refusing to move anymore. He was getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen and he knew that if he blacked out, that was it.
The thought of dying like that, like a rat in the sewer was annoying, especially that the next passage wasn't that far ahead. He had so much to live for, he had to make it, and not for him, not out of selfish reasons, but for Gerard. He had the duty to find out what had happened with his lover.
But want and do were two different things and as much as he tried, Carles had maxed out and his body was becoming weaker and weaker, unable to resist the current falling behind.
He could feel how he was slowly slipping into unconsciousness, the residual waters of Metropolis soon to become his tomb when he felt something grabbing him, arms pulling him out to safety, to breathable air.
***
With the rather unresolved crisis caused by one of the Minds' deviant behaviour, Xavi found himself working even longer hours than before. These were the days when he caught himself wishing he hadn't obtained such a high rank during school, so he wouldn't have to work so much and in such a complex position.
He had always been level-headed, conforming to the City requirements, he had taken the tests seriously and had aced them and had accepted majoring in chemistry, even if he was far more interested in architecture. He had gotten his second degree as well, because Metropolis had requested it of him. He was working his ass off so to speak and giving a lot to the City, and from time to time, he felt the city wasn't giving back in proportion. This was even more accentuated by the fact that David wasn't contributing to Metropolis at all.
Of course, Xavi was too smart to complain, not even in private, to David, as he knew any false step would be severely punished. He also felt David would mock him and provoke him into saying things he didn't really think, so it was just wiser to say nothing at all and keep the appearances.
Heading home later and later each day, Xavi soon found he was no longer able to relax, David's carefree presence growing more and more annoying than it had ever been soothing. It enraged Xavi to the point where he started doubting the very foundation of their relationship. Sometimes he went to bed thinking perhaps love wasn't enough anymore, but he tried to chase such thoughts away, scared of ever finding out it was the truth.
After what had seemed like an endless day, Xavi reached their flat and entered, feeling ridiculously burdened. David was home, as always. Ever since their last fight, David had been far more cautious about his timing and had never once been away by the time Xavi had arrived home. Xavi had also tried to stop caring about his lover's daily activities, expecting only to have dinner ready when he got home, eating and falling asleep his sole desires for the days' endings.
Lately, it felt they had stricken some sort of truce, that they were tiptoeing around each other and that it was becoming obvious. It was the longest time of walking on a minefield around one another and Xavi had to wonder why was it taking them both longer to return to genuine feelings for one another, to the comfort of before. They ate chatting lightly about the new Metropolis project of creating an artificial brighter daylight aimed to replace the current reflectors, followed by an exchange on real food prices going up.
“We can afford it, David, don't worry,” Xavi assuaged his lover, but his tone was rather irritated.
David caught it and flared his nostrils, aware that he had to be careful with what he said, since Xavi was in a bad mood and naturally, he shouldn't complain about food being expensive when he wasn't making any credits himself. But David was sick and tired of having to keep his mouth around Xavi lately. His lover had changed a lot since he had become one of the heads of the Science department on Project Vheissu. Of course, David had known Xavi only for a little time before the project was initiated and only as roommates, where they'd have brief encounters in the morning and in the evening. David still had a job at that time and thinking back, losing his job, the commencement of Project Vheissu and becoming lovers had all coincided. Xavi had always worked hard, but only lately had he begun to be a pain in the ass because of it and David - regardless of his own flaws - was no longer keen to stand it. After all, he himself had his own problems, feeling being treated unfairly since his early years and having little luck in finding the Outsiders or a job!
Still, Xavi was extremely stressed lately, moreso than any other time and he no longer talked about Vheissu, which was the only aspect of Xavi's work that interested David. In fact, they were barely speaking properly, having a real conversation seemingly frowned upon.
David wasn't the kind of guy to cave in and be a doormat, even if Xavi was effectively maintaining him, but he didn't want their relationship to die. He decided his lover needed to let it all out, finally shout at him to his heart's content or at least let out some steam. Both for himself and for Xavi, he wanted to save them.
Suddenly feeling generous with his grumpy lover, David got up, rounded the table and grabbed Xavi's hand. Without a word, he towed him towards the bedroom they both shared and David tried to engage him sexually. Usually, it worked, as typically Xavi's libido was high and that kind of thing always got him going, no matter the circumstances. Somehow, this time Xavi took the route of complete motionlessness, not even bothering to feign interest as David attempted to remove his clothes. Xavi closed his eyes and had no other reaction than remaining limp, his lips pursing slightly.
David felt incredibly frustrated and stepping away from the bed, zipped his suit back. He wanted to leave the room immediately, but the way Xavi had remained helpless on the bed, his suit half off felt so pitiful, he just couldn't go away. He sat back on the bed next to his lover and grabbed his hand.
“What's wrong?” David wondered, feeling completely dejected as Xavi opened his eyes and looked at him with so much sadness.
“I just...feel so tired.”
“Isn't this a way to relax though?” David's voice soared with anger.
“It's not enough, it's no longer enough,” Xavi found the courage, the inner strength to speak what had been bothering him for a while.
Everything he tried to be and everything he was not was finally getting to him and he no longer had the power for such trivial matters. He got up, sadness bubbling in his chest. He caressed David's cheek without making eye-contact and he walked out of the room.
“I'm sorry, darling. I don't know what's happening to me anymore, please forgive me. I'll sleep in the other bedroom, OK?”
Leaving a dumbfounded David behind, Xavi closed the door, battling the start of a nervous breakdown.
***
Carles woke up suddenly, his lungs filling with stale air, but air nonetheless. He last recalled almost drowning in the sewage and being pulled out magically at the very last second.
He opened his eyes carefully and looked around. From where he was laid, he could see a group of people sitting down in a circle around a radiator. He could tell he was still in the sewers, because of how it smelled, but it was breathable and apart from the natural moistness, everything was dry, including his clothes.
His whole body hurt, his throat stung when he tried to swallow, but he was still alive and Carles was feeling extremely grateful. He tried to get up and his moves attracted attention from the group.
As he struggled to sit upright against the clammy wall, a tall man with long hair in a ponytail approached his place, followed by a couple of others.
“You shouldn't try to move, just rest your battered body for a while,” the man said, squatting to look at Carles.
“It was you, the one who rescued me,” Carles uttered, starting at the man and at his strong, heavily tattooed arms.
“Yes. It was pure luck that I was on patrol in that section and heard you though. Normally, we only find bodies of men less resilient than you.”
Carles shuddered, remembering he could've really died.
“Who are you?” he asked, trying to sit in a more dignified position.
“I am Zlatan. Together with my clan of Outcasts, we run the whole of the underground.”
Carles nodded slowly and looked at the group. He had heard the stories, about rankless people, people who either skipped school altogether or didn't take the National Tests and who the City had stripped of their citizenship, banishing them to live in the sewers, but Carles hadn't believed such people existed. Since school was mandatory up to the National Testing, he failed to understand how it was possible for registered children to not be enrolled in the system.
He wanted to ask Zlatan a lot of questions, but he realized it could be seen as rude. The last thing he wanted was to offend the man who had saved his life. He just looked at them, as they stared back at him, probably deciding on what they wanted to know of him.
“So, who are you and what were you doing almost dying in the sewage?”
And Carles filled them in. He told them about his imprisonment and the reasons therefore, the same as his reasons for trying to escape. As he spoke, he understood that he was closer than ever to succeeding in his attempt. Having made it through a near-death experience had opened Carles' eyes and he had become fearsome and far more hopeful about his chances of finding his lover.
When he finished recounting his story, Zlatan looked around and exchanged glances with his comrades and friends. He then reached out to shake Carles' hand.
“Just like you, we are trying to defeat the system. We made a good life for ourselves, even if it's in the smelly shadows of the underworld. But we have proven that we don't need Metropolis to live, to fall in love or to be happy. Since we rescued you, you're now one of us and your path is our path now. We will help you rescue your lover.”
***
Francesc sat on the balcony, watching the sunset. He had never cared about the outsides before, not that there was anything to give a damn about. For him the day started well into the afternoon when he normally woke up. He lived his life mostly during the night time, in the nightclubs and as fas as he knew, so did Lionel.
However, it wasn't surprising that he enjoyed the sights more now, since Vheissu read its inhabitants' hearts' content and offered them exactly what they most desired.
They had both discovered that they found more meaning in sitting together quietly on the couch, enjoying the silence, or gazing at the sky changing colours as night charged in than they had ever found in drinking themselves silly in the clubs they used to frequent in their first life.
They had started calling their early years in Metropolis their first life. They both felt that Vheissu had given them a second chance at a different kind of life, and even if - as before - they still had everything on a silver platter, this time they didn't have to pretend to be living the life of the rich everyone thought they should live.
Thinking back, it wasn't as glamorous as everyone seemed to think. Their friends - first separately, then their group of faithful friends who most often than not risked a lot just to help them meet one more time - had all been the same, all of them daredevils pretending to own Metropolis and doing anything to appear cool and fashionable. They were, in fact, just spoiled brats who didn't understand how privileged they were and how they were wasting their lives away.
Both Lionel and Francesc had slept with almost everyone in their group before, in the massive post-thrys orgies, but now when they sat in bed curled around one another they had to wonder why they used to think that was the most fabulous thing to do.
Sometimes they tried to imagine that they'd have calmed down, settled back into normality and into a far less extreme life had they been allowed to be together back in Metropolis. Lionel was quite sure that had they been able to get a little flat all for themselves and their respective families had blessed their union, they'd be sitting in bed all day, just listening to each other's heartbeats and it would've been enough.
Francesc was a little less sure about this, thinking that with the way people of their caste conducted themselves and with the kind of things they were expected to be up to, Metropolis had wired them for self-destruction and that even together, they'd have continued their merciless attacks on common sense and kept up their crazy antics.
However their lives would've panned out in Metropolis though, they both agreed that what Vheissu was offering was far more satisfying, as in the dream world they could be anything they wanted.
Lionel joined him on the balcony, bringing homemade cookies. Finding new interests in a more domestic, tamer life had been one of the noticeable changes. Apart from making love whenever they wanted, which was unchanged, they had both noticed a progress in their relationship.
Because even if physically they would be forever 21, it was undeniable they had become more mature, tackling their lives and their relationship differently from before, when their sole need was to be permanently in physical contact with one another.
Nowadays, just being in each other's presence was enough, their mental connection stronger, more unifying than holding hands. A smile was all the other needed to know everything was in order and making love had turned from something akin a drill exercise into something deeply intellectual, entirely meaningful on its own.
They both acknowledged that and they knew this probably wouldn't have happened in Metropolis, the City and its demanding lifestyle preventing them from moving to the next level.
For old times' sake, Francesc reached out his arm, his hand grabbing Lionel's. The other man looked up and smiled. Their closeness revisited, they remained holding hands as the night set over their beloved city.
***
Together with Zlatan, Carles devised the plan for finding Gerard. As it all began and ended with Project Vheissu, a thing Zlatan could debate for hours, their best start was to get into the headquarters. If Gerard had been an important part of the project, Carles didn't know, but it was their only clue concerning the missing engineer, so that became their starting point.
Trying not to get himself drawn into a debate with Zlatan over the purpose of Vheissu, Carles tried to stay focused on the task at hand. As far as he was aware, Vheissu was a private project, backed by the Government Council. It offered rich people the option to leave Metropolis behind and live in a perfect dream world. Since leaving Metropolis physically was borderline impossible, Carles could understand the attraction for such a nonsense idea. To him, life was what one made of it, with the good and the bad. For a welder, Metropolis wasn't the worst thing possible. Carles worked hard for his credits and contributed to the economy just like everybody else. Sure, he hardly ever afforded real meat or real vegetables and he could never access vacation implants or other pleasures richer people got, but he was healthy, he had a great flat and he had found love. To wish for a perfect life in a perfect world and to give your life for that not to mention a pile of credits felt ridiculous to him. In principle, rich people paying a hefty amount of credits just to be killed and be implanted in a perfect world seemed a quirk he didn't really mind.
Zlatan though, was adamant about Vheissu being a project aimed at stamping on the poor again and again. Since the people affording to leave for Vheissu were already rich and had far better lives than the likes of Carles, the whole perfect dream world was a slap in the poor man's face, also indicating that despite all the slogans, Metropolis was far from being a perfect world.
Carles didn't want to argue with Zlatan, who was a very opinionated person, mostly because deep down, he thought Vheissu was a hoax and social implications thereof didn't merit a discussion. There was only one thing rooting against this belief, and this was the fact that, somehow, Gerard was part of it. Gerard was a genuine person, a truly good person, even if a bit wacky and unpredictable and he was part of the project, so maybe there was something more to it than playing pretend and cheating people out of their credits. Either way, he was soon going to find out, as this time he wasn't going to ask the nice way, but explore for the answers himself.
After much talk, they finally agreed that Carles should go alone. They would accompany him to the location and help him break into the building, but Carles had made it clear that he wanted to do this all by himself.
Equipped with jamming devices and a stun gun, Carles was escorted by his new friends right to the imposing building. Seeing it again, Carles felt a little uneasy about sneaking in, but there was no other way to find out what had happened to Gerard. Saying goodbye and hoping it would go well, he began climbing to the first floor and made it inside through a window left open.
Jamming the internal transmission by activating the device and throwing it into the hall, he glided along the corridors, sneaking past motion detectors and cameras, sleek like a shadow. On the first floor there were so many identical white doors and after the 3rd corridor, Carles felt lost. He could only go that far before he bumped into someone. He was ready to defend himself, but he wasn't sure he would be able to use the gun. He knew that once he started taking people out, he'd give himself away and soon a mere stun gun wouldn't be enough. Vheissu was definitely important if they had bothered to keep him locked for so long just because he had questioned a project member's prolonged absence.
Seeing that all the doors were identical, bearing no markings, he opened a few at random, but each proved to be either storage rooms or empty offices.
Retrieving the jamming device, he proceeded to the lower floor, his instinct leading him to believe that that was where the labs could be. Since Gerard was an engineer, working on the technical aspects of Vheissu, he belonged in a lab far more than in an office. Carles reached the ground floor and simply jammed the transmissions again, not bothering with the wide reception hall. He continued his descent, all the way down to the basement floor, where he assumed the laboratories had to be located.
Indeed, Carles was not mistaken, as the big double door in the middle of the hallway was labelled “Dreamcatcher Laboratory”. Jamming transmissions again, he walked with baited breath towards the big door. Stopping for just a second in front of it, just to take a deep breath, he opened the door slowly and snuck in. Making no noise at all, Carles closed the door and found himself in a pristine white room, tiled from floor to ceiling. Two men dressed in white overalls watched the various highly coloured scenes on a big screen, absorbed by what they were seeing and not noticing Carles' entrance.
Carles gazed at the screen as well, attracted by the bright colours he had never seen before. He realized that the beautiful deep green forest, with its leaves dancing in the wind and the turquoise sea washing a silvery yellow beach and the glorious sun a colour he didn't recognize setting behind blazing white mountains were all scenes from Vheissu. He stood by the door, mouth agape, fascinated with the beautiful imagery and he could feel raw emotion in his gut. Then he finally noticed the people part of this, their happy faces and radiant smiles, the people living their perfect lives in their dreamscapes. Vheissu was indeed real and what the greatest minds in Metropolis were creating looked fantastic and impressive. He had to admit he was moved and quite a little satisfied to have been proved wrong.
It took the greatest strength to pull himself together and take his eyes off the screen. Upon realizing he had to hurry, he cursed himself for wasting time with such unimportant things and proceeded to look around the laboratory. He noticed the giant computer, with its white cables and grey hoses, with its host of blinking lights, the centerpiece of the room, placed right under the screen. It must've been the dreamcatcher. Whilst plotting the rescue together with Zlatan he had been able to read everything available to the public on Project Vheissu and he knew that the dreamcatcher harvested and processed the dreams of Metropolis' three greatest minds, as per the hopes and wishes of the paying customers.
Knowing this, his gaze followed the hoses, realizing they weren't actually grey, but rather translucent and that they seemed grey at a first glance because of whatever they were carrying, which was indeed grey. Soon, he noticed that the two visible tubes were connected to silvery white pods, each a plastic and glass case placed to the left and to the right sides of the room. Momentarily forgetting what he had come into the room for, he decided he needed to see what the cases contained. If what he had read was correct, the pods contained the greatest Minds in the City, the very ones who generated the dreams. He was closest to the right hand side one, and making sure both technicians were still absorbed in the pictures on the screen, he advanced towards it.
It only took a glance to realize that the dark blond man sleeping peacefully in the pod hooked to the machine through the translucent hose was none other than Gerard. Understanding hit him like a sledgehammer, the need for secrecy, the lack of answers, the arrest for asking too many questions, it all made sense, somehow. Since Gerard was one of the Minds and the Minds' identity was the project most fiercely kept secret - as both the Metropolis authorities and the Project's Board felt it would be dangerous to the Minds' own life to divulge who they really were - of course Carles strolling down to ask about one of them had been deemed foul and he had been incarcerated.
With this revelation, something else clicked in Carles' mind. While he had always considered Gerard to be smart, intelligent and probably ranked well above him, learning that his lover was considered to be one of the three smartest people in the City was nothing but astonishing. Sure, he had known Gerard was working for an important project and that first and last night of love he had found out he was working for Metropolis' most ambitious project to date, but he had never imagined the man he loved was something akin of a genius. Gerard seemed so aerial, so shallow, and he was incredibly young - only 25 at the time, so the discovery was shocking for Carles. Regaining his cold blood with difficulty, Carles analyzed the current situation. Sure, it was a bit more complicated to rescue Gerard now, when he knew he was so intimately part of Project Vheissu, but it wasn't impossible.
The man he loved was creating perfect lives for rich people who already had more than anyone else, while being deprived of his own life, of his own happiness, of his very own perfect love story. In these circumstances, Zlatan's opinion on Project Vheissu made a lot more sense. Indeed, the images on the screen had touched him, he had felt those people's bliss. But when they could already have whatever they wanted in Metropolis it seemed downright cruel to wish for even more and force someone to renounce their own life for that purpose. Some well placed bastards were indulging in perfection, while Gerard and himself were robbed of even their little meaningless life together in a two-bedroom flat, of their crummy life of eating artificial food and never having any delights other than each other's company.
Carles felt enraged. All his careless attitude towards Vheissu disappeared, replaced with feelings of social injustice and oppression. He had been locked into a dungeon only so that a bunch of Metropolis' richest could access an even greater artificial happiness. He felt like smashing the glass with his bare hands and rescuing his lover, running away and dying for the right to tell him he loved him in the real world, as bad as it was. Ethically, he was as entitled if not more to take Gerard out - even if that meant their doom - as they were to live their dream lives.
Carles must've made a bit of noise with his rising levels of fury, as at that moment, one of the technicians turned around and saw him.
“Hey!” he let out, startled to see the intruder.
Carles was taken by surprise and shot on the spot, the young man collapsing limp on the floor. The other man put his hands up, not sure if his colleague had been killed or not and not wanting to share his fate.
“Can the Minds be awakened?” Carles asked, the ideas coming to him immediately while panic left him.
The technicians were so young, all he had to do was look determined, in control and he could get the answers he was looking for.
“What?”
“If I open the sleeping pod, will he die?” Carles pointed at Gerard's pod, rephrasing the question.
“I... I don't know, I'm not sure!”
Carles frowned, he didn't know what to do. He looked menacingly at the boy. The last thing he wanted was to endanger Gerard, but at the same time, he needed to get out of there as soon as possible.
“I'm not going to kill you. But I need to wake him up, I have to take him away from here and I want to know if it's feasible!”
“Sir, I just supervise the machine, but I know the Minds are kept asleep by powerful drugs, the head physician knows more. If you'll just let me call him, he could...”
The technician turned to the control board, to show Carles the intercom, but his sudden move alerted Carles, who panicked again and shot. The boy fell to the floor, just like the other, leaving Carles with just as many unanswered questions as before.
Alone, he approached the pod again, leaving caution behind. He was far from being anywhere near familiarized with medical procedures, but upon a close inspection of the sleeping pod, Carles could see that the only cable going in was the one connecting Gerard to the dreamcatcher. He looked at Gerard through the clear glass, the younger man was sleeping so peacefully. The technician had said that sleep was chemically induced, so opening the pod would not automatically wake him up.
Placing a hand on the glass, right above where Gerard's heart was, Carles felt so emotional. He decided to go for it and after he would pull out the tube, pick him up and carry him to safety. He knew Zlatan's gang waited for him outside and he knew their doctor could help Gerard.
He looked at the control board at the top of pod and finding the right button, he pressed it. The pod started opening, the lid sliding slowly downwards, to reveal its precious contents little by little.
Immediately the alarm went off, clearly set to start upon any unauthorized handling of the pods, the shattering noise invading Carles' brain even if he tried to shut it out as he attempted to remove the dream pipe and hoist Gerard out. As guards poured in and seized Carles, he roared his lover's name, begging him to wake up.
Part III