Quantum Poppers by Matthew Reeve Page B

larger industrial complex. A lone magpie
took flight dislodging a can of Pepsi from the heap of rubbish. John watched it
fall. A tiny piece of reality he never would have registered before. ‘You
should have heard some the abduction theories I’ve had floating around my head.
I’m just relieved to see I’m still on the same planet.’
    Bartley made no
response as to whether he’d heard him. ‘All this is simply reality.’
    ‘I don’t
recognise this place.’
    Bartley
remained silent
    ‘Are my family
out there, looking for me?’ John continued to stare out at the narrow alleyway
under cover of the corridor. He’d never felt so free in his entire life.
    ‘I’m s...’
    ‘No. Don’t say
a word. Even if I could believe you were sorry I...was my disappearance covered
up?’ John didn’t expect any kind of answer and got what he expected. He could
see Bartley out of the corner of his eye stare down at his feet as if dejected,
at least wanting to answer yet sticking strongly to his desire or apparent need
to not say a word. ‘Let me walk, it can’t hurt.’
    This time it
was the guard to his right he saw motion out of the corner of his eye. He had
stepped back, perhaps awaiting John to flee and ready to grab him if need be.
    ‘Nobody wants
you here John. We wish you could be let out, set free, as want of a better
phrase. But the actions we have taken are dwarfed by what could happen if you
were let out, even briefly.’
    ‘ Could happen? So I’m being held here on the supposition of what could happen,
not what will?’ The defeated calmness as to how John spoke scared even him. Had
he really lost this much hope? Part of him wanted to return to his room, the
same part that hated Bartley for teasing him with this look at the rain soaked
reality before him.
    ‘If you were
told the truth, no doubt you would go out of your way in doing what we tell you
for safety reasons. But, we cannot take that chance. No matter how small the
chances are for you doing what cannot be done, the consequences would be
disastrous. Contact could...’
    ‘Contact?
Contact with who?’ John pleaded. He finally turned to Bartley, close to
shouting.
    ‘I’m sorry,’
said Bartley.
    ‘Stop, stop,’
shouted John. ‘You go on and on without telling me a thing. Please, let me just
walk out to the end of the alley. Let me see life continuing. Let me feel one
more natural sensation. At least glimpse another human being. And do not say
sorry!’ added John as Bartley was about to speak.
    John and
Bartley stared at each other. It was the longest they had ever made eye
contact. John tried to read the blank expression on Bartley’s face in an
attempt to surmise what was going on behind the heavy lidded eyes. Those eyes
glanced briefly to the two guards that occupied the corridor, seemingly to
check that they were still there rather than gauging opinion from them. ‘Come
on,’ said John. ‘I doubt there’s much I could do. I guess I’m being watched.’
    ‘A camera has
never left you whilst you’ve been on this site. And even out in that alley, it
never will.’
    John turned
back. There were no signs of cameras. It was either a bluff, or more likely,
smaller concealed ones were trained on him. It looked as though this was still
being treated as a public route, one that led to a heavily secured door with no
sign as to what was held within. Expensive camera systems would alert people.
    ‘Please’, he
said and closed his eyes as a particularly strong gust of wind rushed into the
corridor. He felt it engulf him and savoured the sensation.
    ‘Ok,’ said
Bartley, it was he who now sounded defeated. ‘Up to where you can see. We will
be with you. Please, take this as acceptance that we’re not the bad guys. This
is our gift to you. All this is for you. This walk is for you to maybe hate us
a little less.’
    John wanted to
say how it couldn’t be possible to hate them any more but kept his mouth shut.
‘Thank you,’ he said and took