The GoldenCity

Darkness appeared on the outer edges of her vision. Maya closed her eyes for awhile and when she opened them again two figures had appeared in the reading room. A man wearing rags pulled back his veil and revealed a pale, frightened face. He turned and said something as younger man emerged from the smoke carrying a burning stick of wood. The face looked familiar, but Maya resisted a conclusion. Was it really Gabriel or just a creation of her mind?

The Traveler hurried to the edge of the platform, shouting her name and waving his arms, but the darkness absorbed her again. She was floating on a pond of murky water, sinking beneath the surface. It felt as if she was thrashing her arms and legs to return to the light. When she regained consciousness, Gabriel was kneeling beside her. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her across an improvised bridge. The smoke made her cough, and she saw bursts of flame as the ragged man guided them down a staircase to the street.

“Try to stay awake,” Gabriel told her. “We’re going to the passageway.”

“Passageway-in-the river,” she said slowly.

“This is another access point. We can go together.”

If felt as if the spear were still jabbing her leg as Gabriel carried her through the ruins of a burnt-out building. The ragged man kept glancing over his shoulder.

“There’s a patrol. See them? Near the end of the street.”

They started running. Men were chasing them, and she was too weak to fight and protect the Traveler.

“They saw us,” the ragged man. “Go this way, Gabriel. No. This way.”

“It’s too far,” Gabriel said. “We’re not going to make it.”

“I’ll stay here and trick them,” the ragged man said. “Remember me. That’s all I want from you. Remember my name.”

And then she was very cold, falling down a long tunnel while Gabriel embraced her. She held him tightly, hearing his heart beat and feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Can you hear me?” Gabriel asked. “We’re safe. Back in our world.

Open your eyes, Maya. Open your eyes…”

16

The night air was cold when Hollis left the love hotel and hiked down the hill to the high-rise office buildings that overlooked the Shibuya train station. The adrenalin that had surged though his body during the fight had faded away. He felt as slight and insubstantial as a dead leaf blown through the streets.

The Chinese-made automatic was tucked into the waistband near the small of his back. Hollis couldn’t ignore its heavy presence-the feel of the barrel and trigger guard touching his skin. It was dangerous to check into a hotel or return to the airport. Not knowing what to do, he walked parallel to the Shuto Expressway. The sodium safety lights made his shadow look black and distinct as it glided across the asphalt.

A few miles north of the train station, he passed a glass and steel building filled with retail shops that were closed for the night. A neon sign announced-in Japanese and English-that the Gran Cyber Café was on the second floor.

Internet cafes were all over the world; they were usually large, well-lit rooms where everyone sat close to each other typing on computer keyboards. The Gran Café had been designed for a very different experience. Hollis entered a windowless room that was kept in constant twilight-like a chapel or a gambling casino-and the customers were hidden in white cubicles. The café smelled like cigarette smoke and the curry dinner that the desk clerk had just heated up in a microwave.

The clerk was a young Japanese woman with studs through her nose, ears and tongue. Speaking in English, she advised Hollis to buy a “night pack” which would allow him to stay in a cubicle until morning. Hollis walked through the maze of cubicles to number 8-J and went inside. There was a padded leatherette chair, a computer, a television set, a DVD player and a hand control for computer games.

Hollis stared at the monitor and tried to figure out who could help him. Gabriel and Simon were somewhere in Egypt. His friends and relatives in Los Angeles thought that he was dead or in a third world prison. When he left the United States he had thrown away his driver’s license and credit cards. A bank had seized his house, and Hollis assumed it was sold at a public auction. Although the Vast Machine tracked your movements and monitored your life, it also verified that you were alive.

He returned to the front desk and bought a fruit smoothie, a cup of hot ramen noodles and a toothbrush. Hollis saw two other customers in the café’s library picking through the extensive collection of graphic novels and magazines. Neither of them more than glanced at the foreigner. The Gran Café was not a place to meet people in physical reality.