“And what will this security system be . . . ?” I make my voice playful. I sense that he realizes things have gotten intense, and I’m relieved when he cracks a smile.
“Well, I really can’t tell you that because then it wouldn’t be secure, but I can guarantee there will be the highest level of security.”
“And what about checks and balances? How are you selecting the residents? What is their say in the way the community will run?”
“The residents will have to have a full background check and answer questions. There’ll be many interviews and tests to see if this is the right location for them.”
“And what type of test are you looking for them to complete? What are you looking for in the ideal resident?”
“Now that’s a question I’m not prepared to answer at this time.” With that, Cain continues to drive me around The Elysian.
“This is the town center. When you enter, the built-in computer systems will know you have arrived from the key you carry. The key has all your information and will tell the surrounding buildings and staff how to adapt to your presence. Each light and building entrance, has built-in AI facial recognition, and this will allow the vendors that are here to cater the experience. For example, when you go into a restaurant, the staff will already know your allergies, your likes and dislikes.”
Cain parks the car, then turns to face me. “Do you have everything you need?”
I tap my backpack. “I do. I’m a reporter not a photographer—”
“We already provided the approved pictures.” His voice is terse, and I know he’s still annoyed about earlier. I mentally chide myself for continuing to bring it up. Not a good start to my tour.
“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. But I do have my recorder. If that’s okay.”
“No recording devices.”
I bite my lip. Maybe the damage is done. Maybe I’m getting the “other” Cain today. Mr. Hyde.
“Oh.” I open my backpack and start to rummage for a notebook. “Can I jot down notes, though?”
“Yes.”
I grimace at the one-word answer. “Okay, then I’ll do that. Ready when you are.”
“Come on.” Cain gets out of the car, and I scurry to get out, as well, and fall into step with him. My chest heaves as I make my way to catch up. His legs are longer, so I have to take extra strides, but when I do finally make my way to him, together, we start walking into what is going to be the town center.
It’s not fully built up yet. Stores line the streets, the structures are up, but there are no awnings yet.
The store fronts are similar to the rest of the compound. Except instead of mirrors, glass is used to give it a clean, cutting-edge look.
With each step I take in the area, from the flowers blooming in planters to the geometric statue standing tall and beautiful in the middle of the road.
Moving to stand in front of it, he proceeds to tell me of its significance. Its relevance to the Brave New World. Huxley’s story, or a summary of his story, is the pinnacle of the design.
He then walks me to a door.
The interesting thing is there’s no handle, but the moment we approach, he lifts his wrist.
I don’t see anything on his wrist, but the door opens, nonetheless.
“How did you do that?” I stare—okay, gawk—at his wrist.
“There’s a chip embedded in my skin.” He raises it, and I take his wrist in my hand, lifting it to my face to see if I can see it.
There is nothing there.
I run my thumb over the skin, and I hear a sighing sound. Looking up, I notice his chest rising and falling as he watches me. “Is that even safe?” I whisper, still touching his skin.
“It’s perfectly safe.”
Realizing I have been holding him for far too long, I drop his wrist and take a step back. “That is not something I would ever do,” I mumble under my breath.
“Then you wouldn’t have to.” His voice is nonchalant, and he starts to walk again.
“That’s not something everyone has to do?” ’Cause that would suck.
“Of course not.”
“Oh.”
He looks over his shoulder. “We have other options.”
“Such as?”
“A piece of jewelry. A credit card key in your wallet. Layla, you will find that I can be very innovative.” The way he looks at me and says my name has my knees wobbling.
Why does he have to be so handsome? Head in the game, Layla. You aren’t here for a romantic love affair. Just do your job and interview the man.
I let out a cough and take a step inside the building. As I suspected, the sound of my foot hitting what appears to be marble is muffled. “Am I the only one who thinks it’s creepy that there are no footsteps?”