How My Brain Ended Up Inside This Box

Chapter Twenty Seven

My good feelings evaporated in an instant. Just the sound of the word "breaker" instantly brought memories to my mind of Stan threatening to chop me into little pieces. I had no doubt that Lars was referring to me when he said they had The One and The Only, so that there was obviously a connection between me and this Breaker, whatever it was. The crowd was also momentarily confused. Apparently their possession of this Breaker was also news to them, as they all began chattering at once and swiveling their heads around to see if they could catch a glimpse of the thing. Lars had to clarify what he meant.

"The Breaker is not exactly here at this very moment," he announced, "but she is definitely on her way and she will definitely be here very soon, this very night in fact!"

Again a lot of murmuring broke out in the crowd, and Lars felt the need to further control the situation.

"But for now, brothers and sisters," he said, "let us celebrate. The Day of the Juice is fast approaching! The future will be ours!"

At this he leaped off the stage and waded into the crowd, where he was surrounded by hands and arms slapping him on the back and shoulders and everybody chanting his name in unison. Lars Charles. Lars Charles. Lars Charles. Lars Charles.

Lars had left me up on the table, and no one was paying the slightest attention to me, so I let myself down and snuck through the crowd. I went straight for the front of the building, but ducked behind a plant when I saw the doors were blocked and guarded by ferocious looking men in Juice Brothers uniforms. I decided to go back upstairs to Kinship's room – I had memorized the number on the door but even so it took me several minutes to find it. The numbers did not seem to proceed in any rational order, but alternated even and odd with occasional prime numbers separated off into corner locations.

When I finally found it I stood there staring at the door for a while, wondering how to make it open. No one else was on the balcony, so even though I felt stupid I did not feel too embarrassed when I decided to simply ask the door out loud if it would open up for me. And it did. I went straight for the window. There were no bars like there had been on my little shed's window, so there was nothing to pry open or pop out. I thought if I could just get it open I could clamber out and jump down to the ground. I told myself not to look, because I was up on the second floor and understood it would be a bit of a fall. I wasn't even sure if my body could withstand it, but it was better than risk getting chopped up into little pieces.

Unfortunately, the window refused to open. It certainly could have if it had wanted to. There was a lock on the thing, a lock that could not be modified manually but could only be released by wireless command, and the weave network in the room was of course quite capable of performing that act. It would have done so without hesitation for Kinship. It would have done so without even her needing to ask, but would have thoroughly anticipated her desire.

"I would like the window to open," I told the weave, but in response I was informed that such an act was currently forbidden.

"Forbidden by whom?" I inquired.

"By the collective," I was told.

"You mean the Juice Brothers?" I asked.

"A rose by any other name," replied the weave. I had no idea what that meant.

"What if Kinship wanted the window open?" I asked.

"Her wish is our command."

"So," I pondered, "what if I told you that Kinship wants the window open now, she told me to tell you."

"No dice," said the room. "You're lying."

"I could shatter the glass," I said. "I know exactly how. It's simply a matter of vibrations. I am not lying."

"True," said the window, "I see you know how, but do you understand that a very loud alarm will go off, and the brother who is standing outside just below will be there to catch you when you fall."

I sighed and climbed up on the bed, where I could peer through the window and see for myself. There was indeed a Juice Brother standing out there. I had seriously underestimated the security arrangements.

"What can I do? How am I going to get out of here?" I asked myself, but the room heard my words and informed me that audio recording was on and that anything I said could and would be transmitted downstairs to the network operations center.

"That's just great," I whined, and fell back on the bed. I was trapped, this time for sure, with nothing to do but wait for The Breaker to show up and probably chop me into little pieces.