Dreamland Part One

Celestial Level
            Kara Madsen entered the ballroom through a cloud of smoke and instantly her mood was lifted. Someone handed her a glass of champagne, but she did not even see them. Everyone at the party was sipping bubbly drinks and breathing in the white fog that filled the room. The Madsens held this party every year, to show off the newest formulas. This year Bliss was being showcased.
            “Isn’t this the best party ever?” Anne Park murmured to the group of teenagers around her. Kara sat in the chair next to Anne and leaned forward to hear the conversation over the hum of the party.
            “Last year’s was good too,” Kingston Gray replied. “But I think this air is much more potent.” Kingston leaned back in his chair and smiled. He ran a hand through his copper hair, his eyelids slightly closing.
“I’ll get us each a pack for when school starts,” Kara said.
            “Good,” Anne replied. “That store-brand stuff is so lame. I have to be constantly smoking it to feel anything.” Everyone in the group nodded and took a few deep breaths.
            “I’m so hyper!” Kara suddenly exclaimed. She jumped out of her seat and grabbed Anne’s hands. “Let’s go dance!” Kara led her friend through the white fog. One wall was entirely a picture screen that showed dancing colors and abstract images. The speakers at the top and bottom of the wall blasted high energy music. The two girls screamed as they danced with their hands in the air. Their shouts were drowned out by the music; and everyone in the room was too involved with their own emotions to care.
 
 
Terra Level
            Sirens blared from seemingly all directions. Ector pulled his hood closer to his face. He stepped toward the fire pit. On either side people huddled around similar fires. Farther up the street a few people were peddling bags of orange powder, but Ector tried to ignore them.
            “Ector?” a voice came from behind the boy. “Are you okay?” Ector turned to see his mother standing a few feet from him. Her eyes were rimmed with red and her skin was tight and sunken.
Ector grabbed his mom’s sleeve and pushed it up above the elbow. There they were: the little black dots that proved she had been shooting up. By the way her eyes kept darting around and her jumpiness, Ector guessed she had done a cocktail of whatever emotions she could get her hands on.
            “Mom, you need to sit down.” Ector took his water bottle and handed it to Elsie once she sat in front of the fire. Elsie suddenly burst into tears when Ector sat across from her. Ector shook his head, but he did not feel concern for his mother. Ector did not use emotions—not after seeing what they did to his mother. For days or weeks at a time Elsie would be on a binge of any emotions she could afford.
            “Why do you buy that stuff?” Ector muttered. Elsie just sobbed harder.
*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *
            Ector ran his finger over the grooves in the desk while the teacher droned on. The teachers did not live on the Terra Level—most of them came from One, the first level of the giant buildings. Once, a few students managed to sneak through the doors as a teacher entered Terra. They were on Level One for three days before the badges found them. The badges took them away, never to be heard from again.
            “Ector,” Isaac Waits whispered. Ector turned around and saw a bunch of tiny blue pills in Isaac’s open hand. “Want some?”
            “No,” Ector replied firmly and turned back around. Isaac’s father was a garbage collector for Madsen Labs, so he had access to the old versions of emotions and the ones that did not work right. Isaac usually stole a few from his dad’s stash and would try them out in different combinations.
            “It’s just Tranquility,” Isaac said, poking Ector in the back. “The worst that can happen is you pass out for a few hours.” Ector stood up and walked out of the room. The teacher continued talking as if nothing had transpired because he had taken an extra dose of Patience that morning.
 
 
Celestial Level
            Kara leaned against the window and opened the yellow carton of cigarettes. She pulled out two pale yellow sticks. Anne took one and leaned in for Kara to light it. After putting the lighter back in her bag, Kara pressed her hand against the window. The glass was warm and almost opaque. The gold surface only let in light—Kara could not see what was on the other side.
            “I hate biology,” Anne muttered as she put the cigarette to her lips. She leaned her head back and blew smoke at the ceiling vent. It recycled the air and flushed the smoke outside.
            “At least your dad owns the news company. If I fail bio my dad’ll take a whole bottle of red pills.” As the cigarettes kicked in, Kara’s voice trailed off. The people passing on the hallway faded. The only image in Kara’s mind was one of the human skeletal system. The two girls no long talked. They did not even bother to smoke anymore. They leaned against the glass wall with glazed over eyes and an intent focus on anatomy.
            “Let’s go,” Anne finally said and stood up. Anne pressed her hand to a panel in the window. The hallway car stopped in front of them and the two girls got on. They grabbed the railing on the side of the car. “School,” Anne said and the car zoomed down the corridor to another tower.
 
 
Level Two
            The door hissed open and Edward Grath turned up his nose at the sight. There were pill bottles spilling from the coffee table onto the floor. Papers were strewn everywhere, most of them crumpled into tiny balls. Grath picked up one sheet of paper and looked at the tiny scrawled writing.
            In the back of the apartment was a tiny kitchen that had only a small table and one chair which had fallen on its side. Empty vials and used syringes lay on the table next to spoiled food. Under the table was a man who had passed out hours ago. Grath took a fresh syringe and full vial of Motivation from the cupboard and stuck the needle in the unconscious man’s neck. A few seconds after Grath pushed the plunger the man awoke. He tried to stand so abruptly he hit his head against the underside of the table and the vials crashed to the tile floor.
            The man pushed past Grath and dug through a pile of papers in his living room. He picked one up, read it, and tossed it toward the sofa. He continued this pattern until Grath grabbed his arm and stopped him.
            “Dr. Ambrose,” Grath said sternly, “You are needed in the lab.”
            “No,” Rohan Ambrose muttered. “A formula. I was working on a new formula.” He yanked his arm away from Grath and continued searching for the right paper. He was so close last night to the perfect formula. He knew that he could bottle despair. It was just a matter of the correct combination of brain chemicals that would take time. “The lab.” Rohan turned to Grath. “I need to go to the lab.”
*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *
            The other scientists at Madsen Labs kept their distance from Rohan as he tried to recreate the formula for Despair. Rohan designed every basic emotion and the other scientists increased potency or edited formulas based on market demand. They all worked without the use of emotions. Rohan, when he was sober, thought of them as the robots. They used no innovation and simply maximized the formula he developed.
            A lab technician brought the chemicals Rohan had ordered to his lab bench. “What new formula are you trying?” the technician asked Rohan. “Dr. Ambrose?” he repeated when Rohan did not even look up from the microscope. The technician frowned and thought perhaps the doctor was hard of hearing. He tapped Rohan on the shoulder and said his name again. After two more failed attempts to get Rohan’s attention, the technician walked away in a huff.
 
 
Terra Level
            Instead of going to school, Ector took a shift emptying the incinerators. His mother felt sick without a steady stream of emotions in her system and was in no state to work. Someone had to keep up the rations of food and clothing.
            Ector pressed his thumb against the guard’s scanner as he approached the incineration building. Instead of questioning why Ector was not in school, the guard nodded and sent him along the line. The majority of people cleaning at the incinerators were children. A few boys even younger than Ector also worked in place of family members. When they entered the building, an adult handed each person a bucket and a shovel and pointed to an incineration room. The entire building was supposed to be turned off when workers were inside, but Ector had heard rumors of people dying if the fires started unexpectedly.