The Tower — Ch 8

The next several days passed in a blur. More doctors than Sheryl could remember came into and left her room, checking so many things that she started wondering if she was receiving tests for multiple people. Her biggest break from the constant barrage was when she was wheeled to the head psychologist’s office for an hour.

Dr. Kennedy talked to her about her life and family, and how she’d felt since waking up. After that first therapy session he informed her that though he agreed with Liam’s diagnosis of dissociation, that it wasn’t severe enough to have impacted her judgement.

Vivienne visited with Sheryl every afternoon and told her about what she saw around the island and about meeting other contestants. She also worked with Sheryl’s physical therapy team to get approval to take Sheryl down to the therapy pool in the evenings and further work Sheryl’s muscles.

On the fourth day after her arrival Sheryl received notice that her internal injuries had been sufficiently healed, and that it was time to flush the nanomachines.

Sheryl had always heard that the procedure was unpleasant, but wasn’t fully prepared for the reality of it. It started with an hour in a nano maintenance tube, which bombarded her with the deactivation signal. After that she was given the first of three doses of a silvery liquid that would bind to the tiny machines and allow her body to filter them.

The side effects of the binding agent started almost immediately. It began with nausea and upset stomach, but quickly progressed to the point that a nurse had to remain in the room to assist with frequent trips to the bathroom.

By the time Vivienne arrived that afternoon Sheryl was drenched in sweat and could barely hold anything down for more than a couple minutes.

Vivienne took one look at Sheryl and strode back into the hall. Sheryl could hardly blame her, but after several minutes the other woman walked back in bearing a moist washcloth. She wiped the sweat from Sheryl’s brow.

“Those must have been some nanomachines,” Vivienne said softly. Sheryl immediately understood that the other woman was aware of how sound sensitive she was at the moment. “I’m guessing self-replicating.”

“I don’t know,” Sheryl croaked.

Vivienne winced and laid the cool cloth against Sheryl’s forehead. She stood and walked from the room again before returning with ice chips. “Here,” she said, offering the cup. “I’m betting water won’t stay down, but this should provide some relief.”

Sheryl gratefully sucked on the ice, the cool moisture easing the dry ache in her throat without upsetting her stomach.

“Which dose are you one?” Vivienne asked as Sheryl set the cup aside.

Sheryl held up two fingers, too exhausted to want to talk.

“Standard three?”

Sheryl nodded.

“It should get better soon then,” Vivienne murmured. “Usually by the time you take the third dose most of the nanos are out of your system.”

“You sound like you’ve been through this,” Sheryl whispered hoarsely.

Vivienne shook her head. “No, but I’ve known others. Usually the more generalized the nano the worse the flushing. Self-replicating are the worst though. Have you been able to sleep through it at all?”

Sheryl shook her head.

“Hopefully you can get some rest after the third dose.”

Sheryl smiled and watched as her friend took a seat in the plush guest chair.

“You don’t have to stay,” Sheryl managed after a minute. “I’m not good company right now.”

Vivienne smiled softly. “What kind of friend would I be to let you suffer alone?”

Sheryl returned the smile. “You’ve probably made other friends. You’re too outgoing not to.”

Vivienne sighed. “Some, but not as many as you’d think. One thing I noticed right away is how much everybody seems to adhere to the advice to remember where we are. People are friendly, but there is a cautious emotional distance.”

“Really?”

Vivienne nodded. “I’ve asked, and everybody says that things change once you experience your first observation as a contestant. I pushed, but everybody just said to wait until Sunday, when Greene runs his tower.”

“He’s the season finale, isn’t he?”

Vivienne nodded, then paused. “That reminds me, do you think you’ll make the gala?”

“Hmm?”

“They’ve still not turned back on full implant functionality?”

Sheryl shook her head. “Not until the nanos are gone.”

Vivienne sighed. “You’d think they’d be better about giving you info, all things considered. There is a gala for new contestants on Saturday night. It’ll be our official introduction as contestants for the one-hundred and twenty-fifth season.”

Sheryl blanched, she hadn’t had a chance to review her memorial footage. “What… what will they be airing?”

Vivienne blinked several times. “Huh?”

“I… I had a memorial visit, they said I could preview the audio and request a percentage be removed.”

“Oh,” Vivienne replied. “I guess you’ve never watched the galas.”

Sheryl shook her head. “I have, everybody does. But I never paid much attention to how detailed the introductions got.”

“Ah, I understand now. Don’t worry, even if they focus a bit longer on you there is too much going on for them to go in depth. There are already thirty contestants here for next season, and they’ll give more airtime to the ones that will run in the next two months. They’ve been here a while and it’s time to drive enthusiasm. I also wouldn’t be surprised if they dedicate some time to that jackass Greene and this stunt he’s pulling. Combined with crowd footage of the dinner, staff awards and the memorial reels you’ll probably get a basic introduction, with maybe a sob story montage before they move on. If anything from your memorial visit is shown it’ll have a voice over.”

Sheryl nodded and managed to relax into the pillows. She was almost asleep when another wave of nausea overwhelmed her, and was immensely grateful as Vivienne held her hair back from her face as she retched into a bedpan.

“I took the position teaching the history of The Tower,” Vivienne said as she returned to the chair.

Sheryl made a questioning noise.

Vivienne smiled. “It pushed my run from the first quarter to the fourth so they could give at least six months of maternity leave and still give me adequate training. But I’m excited. I’m sitting through a lot of the classes now and watching how she handles things before I take over.”

“You’re not worried about being away from Elevate for that long?”

Vivienne shook her head. “I made sure that Elevate could survive me being away before I left. I still hold controlling shares, but there is a competent CEO at the helm. Remember I’d considered returning to school anyway so I’d already started to transition it to self-sufficiency without me.”

Sheryl nodded.

Vivienne refreshed the cool towel, and had just placed it on Sheryl’s forehead when the nurse came in with the third dose of nano-flushing liquid.

As Vivienne had predicted, the nausea wasn’t as bad with the third dose, and soon Sheryl was in and out of sleep.

“I’m headed to the dorms,” Vivienne said as Sheryl awoke from a fitful nap. “It’s getting late and I have an early training session since it’s expected to be a foggy morning.”

Sheryl turned and saw that the sun had set hours earlier. “You didn’t have to spend all evening here.”

“No, but like I said earlier, it’s what friends do. Your symptoms should be gone by morning.”

“Thank you.”

Vivienne smiled.

“Good luck with your training.”

“It’s combat training in low visibility conditions. I’m super excited!”

Sheryl laughed. “Quite a thing to be excited about.”

“Well low light, fog and other visibility impaired scenarios account for roughly ten percent of challenges. It’s a good thing to train, since more towers have at least one of these challenges than not.”

“I see.”

“Actually, you might have an advantage… depending on when you start training.”

“How so?”

“Injuries are common, and some impair mobility. But you have to keep moving. If you start training before you’re fully walking again you’ll be in a better position to deal with those challenges than anybody else.”

“Don’t they have simulation training for that?”

“Yes, but there’s a difference between being temporarily impaired, and actually impaired. You’ll learn your limits in a better way.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Vivienne smiled. “Once you’re in medical assist quarters and not in the hospital proper I’ll help you with a plan.”

“Ok.”

Vivienne leaned over and hugged Sheryl.

“I have to smell gross you know,” Sheryl protested.

“I’ll live, or take a shower if it rubs off.”

Sheryl laughed. “Thanks Vivi.”

“See you tomorrow Sher.”

“Sponsored clothes are the best!” Vivienne cheered, spinning in Sheryl’s hospital room. Harsh lighting glittered off the teal jeweled bodice and opalescent layers of chiffon gently shimmered. “Even I wouldn’t have dared splurge on a gown like this, and I was the founder and CEO of an insanely popular startup.”

Sheryl noticed the soft shimmer of a pearlescent powder on Vivienne’s face, loose blond curls framing her smile as she leaned in to help Sheryl into her own sponsored clothing. Sheryl had picked a pair of black silk slacks and a shiny gold blouse, easier to get into and out of than a gown when she couldn’t stand on her own. Vivienne propped Sheryl up with plenty of pillows, then set to applying makeup and pulling Sheryl’s hair into an updo that allowed her mahogany hair to tumble over one shoulder.

“Perfect!” Vivienne declared when she stood.

“I feel overdressed,” Sheryl sighed, looking at the results in a hand mirror.

“Nonsense. Even I might be slightly underdressed, and I’m wearing something much flashier than you,” Vivienne retorted. “Extravagant is an understatement for these things. There are only four a year, at the beginning of each quarter. They’re the biggest red carpet events, surpassing any awards show and with a budget that supposedly dwarfs the GDP of some small nations.”

“How?” The amount seemed staggering.

Vivienne shrugged. “I think they count the sponsor items. My dress is easily worth twenty-thousand dollars. Your pants and blouse are probably similarly priced.”

Sheryl looked at her outfit, tempted to question it, but let the matter drop. “I don’t know how they can justify all this. Most of us are nobodies!”

“Not anymore, you know that!”

Sheryl sighed. “You’re already used to the constant camera presence, aren’t you?”

Vivienne nodded. “I am, but remember I was frequently in the news before so I had less an adjustment than most.” She paused then laughed. “That pompous tool Greene should have said he could have run in under a month, rather than right away, he’d have loved the constant attention.”

“Well he’ll likely have it after tomorrow.”

Vivienne nodded, but her smile faltered a bit. “As much as I can’t stand the guy, and as much as I dread the boasting afterward, I hope he makes it. I guess the island’s officiant wed him and his fiancee… just in case.”

“Probably not the wedding they wanted.”

“Probably not,” Vivienne agreed somberly. “But he can throw a lavish reception for family and friends when he gets back to wherever he decides to go after.”

There was a knock at the door and a nurse popped her head in. “The cart is waiting out front to take you to the production tower.”

“Thanks!” Vivienne said, hopping up from the bed.

“Are you sure you’re ok as an escort Ms. Dubois?” the nurse asked. “We can send staff so that you can enjoy the party.”

“Nonsense!” Vivienne replied. “It’s just a wheelchair. We’ll be fine.”

“Contact event staff if you need an orderly sent over then.”

“Okay!”

Vivienne helped Sheryl into her wheelchair then guided her through the corridors and to the cart waiting out front. A few minutes later they were greeted by a literal red carpet running from the production tower. Reporters from multiple networks lined a velvet rope, shouting questions and vying for attention.

“They said we don’t have to grant interviews if we don’t want to,” Vivienne said, leaning over to murmur where only Sheryl could hear. “We’re second half contestants, so they’d rather those in the first half of the year get the coverage.”

Sheryl nodded. “I’d rather not then.”

“Ok, we’ll go find our table. I requested us be together.”

“Ok.”

The lobby of the production tower had been transformed for the event. Screens showing highlights lined the walk to the event hall. Contestants, trainers and staff mingled in the entrance, but Vivienne pushed Sheryl past and to the open double doors of the hall.

Tables were set up in front of a stage, a large screen behind the podium. Tiered seating expanded the capacity well beyond the tables at the front.

“I never imagined I’d be here,” Sheryl said as Vivienne pushed her down the ramp to the floor.

“It’s a rare honor.”

“Do we know who the entertainment is?” Sheryl asked as Vivienne paused to review the AR layout of the room.

“Does it matter? Probably the biggest pop idol or two in the past few months, maybe a comedian.”

Sheryl chuckled. “I guess it’s not a big deal.”

Soon the hall filled with contestants, staff and special guests. By the time the doors closed Sheryl thought that easily a thousand people had somehow filtered in.

“I thought you said there were only thirty contestants here…” Sheryl murmured.

Vivienne nodded. “I asked what to expect since there are rarely detailed crowd shots in the televised specials. Turns out it’s a big event in which particular teams on the production staff are recognized after the contestant intros. Tonight it’s building, scenario development and execution.”

“Ummm?”

“Basically the people who come up with ideas, turn them into something usable and build them.”

“Oh.”

The lights dimmed, and Clay Grayson strode across the stage in a green suit.

“Green, cause this was a high payout season for those who survived,” Vivienne whispered, making Sheryl chuckle.

Grayson told a handful of obligatory jokes, then introduced the first guest performance. Dinner arrived just before the contestant introductions started.

Just as Vivienne had predicted, they spent several minutes dedicated to Anthony Greene and his no-training stunt. Then they started introducing contestants, starting with the ones who would run first.

By the time they reached Vivienne and Sheryl they’d been through two more guest performances.

Sheryl breathed a sigh of relief when Vivienne’s expectations played out, and the segment introducing her consisted mainly of a short bio with a voiceover of any footage.

Then the memorials of contestants lost over the past three months started, showing a recap of their stories, training, and ultimately highlights of their run before their towers collapsed.

Sheryl couldn’t help but notice a number of other contestants averting their eyes as people they were close to were remembered.

Clay thanked the teams for their work. He handed out token awards for particularly well-executed scenarios. The televised portion of the gala came to an end. Contestants, guests and production crews were invited to dance and mingle, but many started filtering out of the hall.

“Do you want to stay?” Vivienne asked.

Sheryl shook her head.

“I don’t blame you. Back to the hospital?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you be watching Greene’s run tomorrow?”

Sheryl sighed. “Probably… I think I should anyway. I need to actually start paying attention rather than being a casual viewer.”

Vivienne nodded. “There’s a viewing party here every Sunday. So we’ll come back. Food is provided and it’s a more comfortable place than smaller quarters.”

Sheryl nodded as a humid gust of wind welcomed her outside again.

“Vivi?”

“Hmm?”

“Was it everything you’d hoped?”

Vivienne laughed. “A bit more somber, but each one has a different mood. I can’t wait for the next one.”

Sheryl smiled up at her friend as the cart pulled around.

Vivienne got Sheryl situated back in her hospital room then prepared to leave.

“See you tomorrow,” Sheryl said.

Vivienne smiled from where she stood near the door. “It’s our first observation as contestants.”

Sheryl nodded. “Good night.”

“Good night.”