Note for the Rebels: I returned my prologue to it's original, impressionistic sketch form. Which means any details about the street play got removed from there, because that play was not 'it'. So, for everyone, this chapter is the first part where you get the play as it is supposed to be. Enjoy :)

23 September, 2050

They were two planets. The laws of physics had not yet decided what the balance of all the forces pushing them closer and pulling them away was going to be. So, they circled each other, keeping in their orbits.

It was almost 6 o' clock. They took their places. The gong was struck. It began.

***

VOICES

by Caleb Sylvester,
Harry Henderson
and Roxie Bedelia

Act I. Scene I.

[The inside of the cab of an RV truck. On one side of its small lookout are various scientific contraptions, consoles and analog dials. At the other side is a large desk with a study lamp and a sewing machine pushed to one side beside a kitchenette including a stove and a tiny fridge.

A young man in a torn and stained, dull white lab coat sits in a chair, fingering the consoles. A digital calendar reads 23 March, 2087. A young woman is seated on the table studying under the lamp.]

HALA: (gets up and opens the fridge) Out! Everything is out!

ADRIAN: Shush! I'm almost there with my rechecks ...

HALA: I'm so tired, I've no energy to walk down this long intestinal street and reach the market around the curve.

ADRIAN: Once I'm done here, the space-time curve will be what I conquer next!

HALA: (closing the fridge) The silence is so deep, I can hear every pang scream.

ADRIAN: Screams would be redundant, when I capture the ghost in a bottle.

HALA: (loudly raps at the table) Not even a single bottle of milk left. You finished it all, didn't you?

ADRIAN: (flippantly thumps his chest) Sustenance is needed for the work of this genie!

***

He was composed today, but the crowd was already buzzing. Fully expecting an oppositional read of Hala from the lead actress, people seemed raring to applaud at the right moment. A lot of the spectators were already on their feet hooting at her loud rap.

He consciously decided to speak with more energy. It was not time for his character to get out of control yet. But he needed more oomph against her sway on the gathering.

***

HALA: But what about me? I'm not even a pet?

ADRIAN: Listen. I need you to come over here and sit in peace for a moment.

HALA: You just want me to shut up.

ADRIAN: And come over. And sit in peace for a moment.

HALA: Tell me why. I'm so hungry!

ADRIAN: When I'm done with this, we will have so much new stuff. Everyone will be clamoring for a portion of the harvest. But we'll reap the riches as this is our project.

HALA: But it's not! It's yours.

ADRIAN: What's mine is yours.

HALA: Like what? Your time? You don't have enough of it. Your love? Trapped in that console. Your attention? Undivided for the science. Your means? For the sustenance of the genie.

ADRIAN: Come on, pet. Shush. Sit here. Let me talk.

HALA: (throws hands in the air) Your talk, talk, talk is all I hear, all I get. Your words are the trap that bound me first. Your speeches and arguments are a constant cage around my head. Set me free. Let me be. The canary wants to see and tell and speak of her own again. Let me fly. I am a bee. I want to move beyond the hive and come alive, if you please.

***

The crowd laughed at the jest in her please as she ended her little speech. It was slightly different from yesterday's version. Both were quite different in the drift and execution from Caleb's vision, which was supposed to be a revival of old school values in scarily techie times.

For a split second, Harry had the impulse to turn his head and catch a glimpse of Caleb. The poor guy must have been pulling his hair out at the reinventing his script had recieved since yesterday by Roxie Bedelia.

The girl had actually been introduced today with this odd name; only, Harry couldn't swallow it. He channeled his fleeting reaction to this unpalatable name into a bit of a crazy scientist vibe for his next lines.

***

ADRIAN: (Gets up holding a hand-drawn design and looks intently at it) How to crack this problem that stops me in my tracks every time. Every time!

HALA: Every time! Every time I feel I'm inching closer to my dreams, to my goals, I am held back. But not this time, I swear!

ADRIAN: I swear! If I get but one willing, good-natured soul, pure of unhealthy ambitions, free of malevolence - of agitation of heart, of dispersion of mind, - to be my subject, the experiment will be a success.

HALA: Success is all I wanted. Success as a young graduate in social work. Success in my line of work: seeing separated kids through till they find their parents. Success in love, in marriage ... Success as a mother ... (sobs) But every time, this bird fluttered and flopped, landed back on earth with a thud. Maybe it's time to unchain myself. You're not the one tying me down!

ADRIAN: (Comes to a stop before a long fully colored chart diagramming brain areas and neurons firing. Points to it and holds up other objects as he speaks.) The chain of my reasoning is perfect. I've redesigned my Neuro-Fi program. It magnifies and reads brain signals from afar. It picks up large, consistent firing patterns across a target's cerebrum, or the most powerful bursts affected by the limbic system. The program uploads to the receiver's Brain Implant. The receiver gains access to cognitions of anyone else close enough. But the tech is sensitive: demands patience and bravery. I've removed the glitches since my last testing experience. That subject too is doing fine now - I examined him myself. Everything seems perfect! Now if someone would respond to my call ...

***

The crowd had begun to boo his lines. Especially, the last monologue - Adrian completely oblivious of the import of Hala's words, spinning off into a technical barrage.

In response, Harry's performance had become more animated, more involved, crazier. He had to stand out, energize his voice and antics, not drown in the rival support for Roxie's lines. Rise above the boos he would.

***

HALA: I responded to your charm, to your exuberance back in college. We stayed awake studying less and talking the future of humanity more. People shunned you for your wild ideas but I found you a genius. Our chats were a roller coaster ride of high-flying intellect and single-minded ambition. Your inventive energy lit my brain on fire. My soft support helped you glide back to reality and soar again with success. It was a match made in heaven. Until it wasn't.

ADRIAN: A match made in heaven it would be. An unsuspecting criminal planning his next heist, murder, or fraud; our infiltrator on their trail. We upload the program after the criminals have already checked and cleared their new recruit's implant. Our control room would be observing, recording, directing the whole operation from afar. My signals would be undetected except by decoders I myself design and distribute. The crime bosses wouldn't know what hit them until they are standing in the court.

HALA: What a perfect courtship we had till the day we were standing in the court. Elopement was a coup, looking for homes and jobs an adventure. Settling down with a roof to rest our spirits at night, with another to test our skills in the day. What happened to us? Where flew my heaven? What wrecked my haven?

ADRIAN: (Comes towards Hala with a whirl of excitement) Your haven is right here in my heart. And I'll give you back your heaven, I promise. I can see the end of the road from here. I spot the lights distant but sure. We are there, almost there, my love. If you'd only come here and listen to me.

HALA: (Lets herself be guided by Adrian to a chair and sits down) Listening to you is what I've been doing this past half-decade. I gave up my dream job when you were offered a lab in Montana, remember? You supported me nicely in setting up my practice but the racist community did my work no favors. Protests, arguments, threats, harassment, for me and my clients were a constant burden. Then your first experiment backfired, your subject died -

ADRIAN: Ah, don't remind me of that painful episode! The upload to the subject's implant took so much energy that first time, it combusted his chip. His neurons went haywire; his heart couldn't take the burden. I had to work with materials for the whole next year, and redesign their capacity to withstand the heavy upload; test a lot of animals.

HALA: We lost our house, one car, moved to Virginia, to a single room apartment, nay, a chicken coop. I'll never forget the deflation of my dreams.

ADRIAN: My dream was to impress the university authorities there, get them to fund my project and give me space to work with.

HALA: Instead you faltered, frustrated at the problems in your research, fought with people you needed on your side, and fell into drugs. While I supported us, paid your expenses, and cleared your bills when, at last, I found my kind of job again. In charge of a group of little children in a shelter, dealing with them filled up my heart so. I designed their instruction and routine, arranged activities. I led the efforts to track their kin down and scored several successes with my diligence and skill. (Clutches her heart) And it's there that I ... oh ... oh ... oh ... my heart.

***

Her agony danced so well on her beautiful face, many in the crowd were on their feet again in sync with her emotions.

Her expression didn't break the chain of pain. Every mention of Hala's life, every turn of her backstory was another angle of Roxie's soul.

He was enthralled again, but expecting it this time and ready. No seconds were lost slipping back into Adrian's skin.

***

ADRIAN: (Grabs her by her arms) Hala! Hala! Get ahold of yourself! Don't overwork yourself remembering. You were there once. You will get there again. I was there once, I will get there again. Calm yourself now. (Attempts to hug her).

HALA: (rejects his attempt, walks away) You disgraced us! You trampled  every single one of our dreams. Because you couldn't get ahold of yourself after failure. So here we are, poor. Every tiny bit that we earn at our generic jobs goes into maintaining your machines, funding this crazy work of yours. But the iron is cold now. And any headway you're making is probably all in your head.

***

Harry knew this was how it was gonna be as long as Roxie did the play. They would be able to maintain the drift, but the lines would take new shape. Flames undulate and shoot sparks of different colors as they dance with the wind. And so would the play.

Some days they would spar farther than this. Some days they would find the closing turn of the scene soon. It would always be a thrill ride.

The scene ended with Hala exhausted and going silent and Adrian by her side, soothing and whispering.

***

They wrapped the play in time.

As the audience clapped and called, Harry's eye caught a sly smile playing on the girl's mouth as she glanced once to the side. He followed her glance and found Caleb's twisted face. At the midpoint of the twenty-first century, Caleb, like many men around in this decrepit society, was still of a chauvinistic mindset.

Roxie had not only twisted the themes of the play around her finger, she had essentially won Caleb's lead thespian over, as Harry had played along well to the changes.

Various emotions tussled for a hold over Caleb's thin-lined features. One moment his brows would be drawn in doubtful severity, the next there would be the swell of begruding pride in his puffing chest as the applause continued. His lips would twitch indeterminately now, his eyes would settle on vexation next.

At last, as the adulation died down, his eyes perched decisively on his actress, sparks of electricity all but shooting from his dirty-blue eyes towards her.

And yet, he was to blame for rehiring the girl, so why so angry now. Harry had no answer. Meanwhile, the girl was unfazed and the sarcastically pleased expression of her eyes was a sturdy response.

What plays between those two, he wondered. Whatever it was, he wanted to be privy to it.