Installment 3

The next morning broke slowly, the day gradually lightening and bringing the room into focus.

Joe smiled and opened his eyes to the yellow light filtering in. He half sat up, propping himself up with his elbows. The room looked as always, hospital-clean and tidy. No evidence of his visitor from the night before.

"Heckuva place." he mused to himself. "Surrounded by good looking nurses and a helluva entertainment section."

Rising and getting back into his gown (the secret is wrapping it around you, tying it in front, then turning that to back and sticking your arms back through), he got his robe and slippers on, then pulled out the briefing sheet map to check what he wanted.

Cafeteria. Check. Enough of eating in my room. Let the nurses know. Check.

Off and down the hall, said good morning to the bleary-eyed nurse night-shift and told them he was off to eat out today. They handed him an ID tag to clip on - same as the one on the briefing sheet, with his name on it. All smiles when he left for the elevator.

"Probably have a sensor chip in them to track locations," he mused, "but it tells them I'm not getting two meals for the price of one, what I'm eating and so on - guess it's another admin overhead."

Down a few floors, a few rights and lefts, down another broad hallway, past a gift shop - and there he was. The smell of fresh-cooked food was enticing and his mouth started watering. As he got a tray and looked out, he again didn't see many people at the tables. Mostly staff, some patients, none with IV's - well, that made sense.

Had to swipe at the beginning and the end with his ID tag. No, he couldn't dish out his own servings. A lot was in styrene plastic like the juices. Only one of everything, all according to his diet. Everything monitored. Efficient.

Smiling to the cashier as she swiped his id tag in the register, Joe thought that this was a sweet deal, overall. If he could only figure out what he was here for.

Making his way to a table by the windows (overlooked the garden he visited yesterday - unless they had more than one of them) he sat down and started unwrapping his plastic-ware. On the table next to the napkins and shakers was a smaller version of that same briefing sheet.

Joe looked it over as he munched on a roll. Seems the back image would scroll, so he could locate anything he wanted. Then he found the "calculate path" function and watched it work back to his room.

"That's what I'm looking for - library." Joe stopped chewing and brushed the flakes off the sheet. A few touches later and he found out what he needed to know.

The rest of the meal was spent in a half-smile, as he finished his breakfast while looking at the trees, shrubs, and flowers of the garden. Only people present down there were some gardeners and maintenance people tending their duties.

Of course, all the meal leftovers went into a plastic-lined bin with an imprinted "Thanks for Recycling" label. They probably recycle everything - it's all plastic anyway.

Joe ambled out. He noticed that his ID tag was lighting up with directional arrows just before he got to any turn. And testing, yes, it turned from green to red if he turned the wrong way - but he was going to the library, the last thing he had selected on that info sheet. You had to love some of these gismo's. Even if he knew they knew exactly where he was all the time. Hospital efficiency plus one. That gave Joe another reason for a wry smile.

And he was here. Simple lettering on the door, some faux wood paneling to set it off slightly - but not enough to make it really different from the hallway hospital motif.

Inside, however, was different. Here is was more like a bookstore than a stuffy old library. Lots of comfortable chairs around, covered in various fabrics and materials. Carpeting and cup-holders - coasters actually - everything to make a relaxing stay. The desk was manned, but others were out putting books away and dusting with some sort of hand-held vacuum.

No other patrons this early, it seemed.

Looking around, he found a self-serve terminal with a touch screen to tell you where to find the books you wanted, and if they were on the shelf, what to do if they weren't. And there was also a cute little, "Readers of [this book] also liked..." and a row of book covers below it. That's fun, he thought. The ubiquitous Amazon Recommends.

Heading to the psychology section, over to philosophy and then to ancient religions. "These few should do me," Joe thought, "anyway, I don't have to load up too conspicuously. If I need something else, it will be there."

He was still thinking through this point of dreams.

Dreams were the problem, they were also the solution.

Joe went over to the canteen area and got a hot de-caffeinated coffee-tasting mix (of course they wouldn't put caffeine in these - that would interfere with patients' meds) and put the stack of books on one side-table next to a comfy-looking chair while he placed the drink on a coaster on the other side. The chair faced out, looking at fluffy clouds and a misty grounds which again kept distant buildings indistinct in the early-morning haze.

As he settled into depths of the thick chair padding, he slid off his slippers and scrunched his toes in the carpeting. It was warm to the touch on the soles of his feet, a delight after all that tile everywhere else.

Crossing his legs, taking a sip from his cup, he picked up the first book, a text labeled, "The Psychology of Dreams and their Interpretation" and dug in.

- - - -

"Now we're getting somewhere." Roger was finally able to relax, still intent on the screen, but now his fingers were stilled at the keyboard. He was looking at the screen and seeing different patterns now.

"Too bad our shift-change is coming up," Sue pointed out, "but the hardest work is done. If he keeps this up, we'll have a chance to figure out what that anomaly is."

"Once we get that data, we can figure how to nullify it. Boy, this guy sure has taken us around Pike's Peak. But he looks to have settled in. That was a good touch with the carpet."

"Thanks. That's a study I did a few semester ago, and it's not much used. But people respond to tactile, and it's the way to contrast on other sterile environments..."

"Gawd, you're starting to sound like a textbook. Looks like we've both been doing this too long. How about game of squash after this?"

Sue yawned. "Probably a good thing, even as tired as I am. Don't forget to dial the time-scale back for these incoming. We'll want to review their data and make sure they don't change much - here they are."

Two under-grad students in matching tunics walked in as the portal swished open.

"Hey you two, just on time as usual." The two under-grads smiled at Sue's compliment.

Roger merely grunted and typed a few final bits. "He's reading in a library. Hopefully just stays there. Of course, beep us if anything drastically changes."

With that Roger turned and moved between them out of the tiny control room and into the hall.

Sue smiled at the two, shrugged, and followed. They took their places and settled in for the watch.