A Hidden World

Day One

"Tammy Richards. Open your eyes, Tammy. Tammy Richards. Good morning, Miss Richards."

A blonde teenage girl in a red tee shirt snaps into focus. I am wide awake, alert but tense. "Miss Richards, you're in a recovery room. You were injured. Your memory will be a little foggy, relax for a moment. I'll be here with you to answer all your questions. You must be thirsty, want some water?"

It is a big open room. I am in a fancy hospital style bed. There are no machines or tubes attached to me. She sits in a chair a foot away. She offers a glass of water to me. I sit up and drink. I am dressed in sweatpants. I never wear them or a grey long sleeved sweatshirt like this one. I swing my legs over the side to face her and hand her an empty glass.

"I'm Katie. May I call you Tammy? He asked me to wake you. He said anyone as brave as you should have company. I'll be happy to show you around. Can I ask you a couple of questions first? What's your address?"

"I am confused. You know my name. You should know my address. Where am I? Which hospital is this?"

A vision of red robots with a white maple leaf explodes into my mind! "The children are they okay?"

Katie smiles, "They all made it out fine. Some had minor injuries. The only serious injury was you. Your town didn't do too badly, but I'm afraid there were four fatalities. When we spotted the tornado, rescue teams one and two were getting ready for extended training. Our response time was exceptional.

"This is our ECCU, Emergency Critical Care Unit. We're in northern Canada. From what I understand, you'll be here about two weeks for observation to make sure you're physically okay. Technically, you're a temporary resident with normal access to everything in our city. The bracelet on your wrist is a little computer. It tracks your vital signs. It also tells them where you are.

"You've been here a day and a half. They brought you in Wednesday afternoon for emergency surgery. It's nine thirty five, Friday morning. Before I continue, do you have any questions?"

I am dumbfounded. I remember flying across our school basement and incredible pain. I faced broken concrete rubble with something solid across my chest. It felt like a mountain on my back. I could not move one arm or my legs. I had trouble seeing. I fought to breathe.

I wiggle my fingers while moving my arms and swing my legs back and forth, full painless movement! Impossible! I lean forward, rotate my head, lean back and stretch. I lean right and there is no pain! I am always in pain when moving.

I pull up my sweatshirt. My military career ended with shrapnel and surgeries. I have massive scar tissue along my left side from above my ankle to my shoulder. I have no scars!

I look at Katie, "Am I dead, a cyborg, or dreaming all this?"

She smiles, "None of those. When they bring a person here, they repair every injury they can find. They fix wounds not natural to a person's body. I don't know how. You can ask our medic staff but they won't give you a satisfactory answer. Tammy, try standing. Careful, you might get dizzy."

Katie hands me what look like track shoes. They feel like hard leather, but stretch like elastic. I stand. No dizziness. I take a couple of steps.

"I'll escort you to your suite. Once there, you can choose what you want to wear and decide if you want to rest a bit or go exploring. There's a navigation system built into every intersection. Tammy, say directions to my suite."

Feeling like a fool, I say, "Directions to my suite."

A low slightly hollow female voice replies, "Confirm voice profile, temporary resident Tammy Richards. Please find a printout of directions to your suite." From a small rectangle beside a door frame, a narrow sheet of paper sticks out. It has a picture on it with red lines, blue dots, and two stars, one red and one blue. A numbered sidebar is a list of short English sentences. We step out to a wide hallway, and Katie points to the opposite ceiling.

"'N' is north, a white arrow points the direction. Numbers indicate an intersection. A blue star is your starting point, red your destination, and blue dots are elevators. We're at intersection 'G' six, three, fifteen, or ground level, building six, aisle three, block fifteen. If you look at your paper a yellow arrow indicates which direction you should go."

I shake my head, "Lead the way Katie. There are several thousand questions on my mind. One has to do with my sanity. Am I awake, or is this a dream?"

The bright wide hallway has no apparent light fixtures. Murals of sunrises and sunsets cover walls from ceiling to floor. Views include flat prairie, mountain ranges, and seascapes. At every hall intersection are arrows and numbers.

The ceiling reminds me of the sky, subtle blue tones change depth in the distance. A faint yellow line splits the polished concrete looking floor but it has a slight bounce or cushion effect. On both sides of doorways and hallway intersections, are faded orange lines a couple of feet from the wall and yellow center line.

People we pass wave, nod or say hi to Katie. Most wear red tee shirts and blue jeans. Some are in a simple white long sleeved dress shirt with crisply seamed black pants. Names display on the one side of their shirts. A few have colored dots and squares opposite their names.

It is like walking down a pedestrian street. People move on opposite sides, like cars on a road. Foot traffic increases as we walk. A minute later, it reminds me of a busy shopping mall without window shoppers. Everyone seems to have a place to go. None of them break stride, move slowly, race ahead or stop in gaggles blocking traffic. Beautiful murals continue on both sidewalls.

Doors appear at each end of hallway sections. More appear in the middle of each section. Door labels match hallway codes. Some show letters, abbreviations like TCCU.

Nobody wears a business suit, and no one has a necktie. Women have no purses. Some people carry what look like laptop bags, and I see only one small backpack. I see no police or military uniforms.

We turn a corner and both walls appear to be elevator doors. No queues of people wait. A door on our right opens, and I follow Katie in. Katie points to a display and says, "Tammy Richards' residence." The door closes as our elevator cage starts moving, numbers on a digital console change fast gaining speed, become unreadable then start slowing down.

As we step out I ask, "I thought you said the first letter and number combination indicate a floor. Does 'U' twenty seven mean the twenty seventh floor?"

Katie smiles and points to a hallway ceiling corner, "That's right. We're on the twenty seventh floor."

I look up in shock. "We were in that elevator about two seconds! It is impossible for an elevator to move that fast with us in it."