This story was written in honor of the Con which took place in Los Angeles in July 2000.
Disclaimer: This original story is not authorized or endorsed by Warner Bros, ABC, Lors Thornwald Inc, Edelson Productions, William Schmidt, or anyone else having rights to "Prey". It is not intended infringe on any rights or copyright and is not written for profit. Any characters not recognizable from the series "Prey" belong to the author.
WILLIS
Willis was sitting hunched over on his stool when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Pulling his glasses down slightly, he peered over the rims at the glass wall in front of him.
"Idiots," he thought, as he watched the two techs in their Enviro-suits laughing and nudging each other. "Probably going to one of the all-night parties ", he thought, that tended to pop-up as the semester drew to a close. He saw them move down the hall and he knew they were heading for one of the O2 cabinets conveniently placed every 50 feet or so, along the wall. "Canned air." He cringed at the thought.
He could still hear them talking as they each pulled out individual canisters, cracked the seals, and screwed them into the appropriate valves in their suits. Whoosh - in it went - fresh canned air.
"Um-m-m. I just love that first rush you get from a new can - what do ya' think causes that?" said one of the techs to his buddy.
"Who knows, ... and I don't wanna know," came the reply. "but I do know we gotta leave now before we're late..."
Willis listened as the voices trailed off down the hall. "Not a clue," he thought, of what that canned air was doing to their brains. Sure, he'd like to get into one of those damnable suits and take a walk outside, just to stretch his legs and see something other than the University and its controlled living environs. Not that there was that much to see outside ... He thought about seeing the sky - what color would you call it? He couldn't find an appropriate name for it, but whatever it was, it wasn't blue. No, he'd pass on using the suits. The recycled air inside the habitat was better than the canned stuff in the suits - no preserving chemicals, which were known to kill brain cells if used over prolonged periods of time. And he needed every one of his brain cells if he was going to pull this thing off.
His neck and back were aching from sitting all day more or less in the same position and he reached his hand around to rub his neck. As he did, he heard beep-beep-beep ... good, the test results were done. He tore off the readout and scanned the results all the way down with his finger. "It worked, it worked!!" He couldn't believe his eyes. This was it; what he'd been waiting for. All those years of time and research had finally paid off.
He jumped up from the stool and strode across the lab. He dug out his key ring and located the approriate key that would unlock the door to the Chamber, or as it was not-so-affectionately called by the rest of the staff - the Cage. Why the cage? Because you needed a second key to get out of the chamber, once you got in. A key that just about everyone forgot about until it was too late. How many lab techs had spent a whole weekend in there, he couldn't count, but he had no intention of adding himself to the list.
He fingered the second key reassuringly before he closed the door behind him. Then, walked over to the machine and turned it on. Within minutes, the series of lights and beeps turned into a steady hum and it was ready to go.
It took him a good thirty minutes to enter the appropriate codes but finally the "CODES ACCEPTED" light glowed green.
He threw his lab coat on the floor and grabbed the jacket that he'd left hanging in the chamber for months now. He checked the lining - yes, he could feel the wad of papers there. Good. He also checked the pockets and all was in order. He hastily threw on the jacket and went to get the remote. He pulled it out of its charger and hit the "TEST" button. He watched the green lights inch their way up to the top and stay there. "Yes," he thought, "that'll last for a few hours - hopefully, that's all I'll need."
He took one last glance around the room, did a final mental check and gave his keys a reassuring jingle. Satisfied that he'd done everything, he brought the remote up to eye level and hit the "GO" button with his thumb.
He felt a slight dropping motion that gave him a flutter in his stomach - nothing he couldn't handle though. "This isn't too bad ...."
He wasn't quite sure how long ago he'd hit the brick wall, but he was just glad he survivied. "Wait" - How long had he'd been out - he only had a few hours and didn't want to spend most of them unconscious. He checked his watch and realized only 15 minutes had gone by. "Whew. not too bad." He stood up but quickly lost his balance. He made a grab for that brick wall but fell flat on his face. No wall. Oh, well, it sure felt like he hit one. He managed to get to his feet and stumbled over to a rock to sit down.
He pulled open his jacket lining and took out the wad he had stashed there. He pulled out the money and then a packet of papers that he put in his jacket pocket. Lastly, he unfolded a map ..... He stopped for a moment and looked around him. He was outside and breathing real air. He looked up at the sky - the sky, it was blue! It made him dizzy, but it was wonderful to see. For an instant, he toyed with the idea of just staying here .... But, he had an important task to do - one that transcended his own personal desires. Besides, he knew he couldn't survive here long - his body make-up was too weakened, too susceptible to whatever germs and viruses existed in this world.
Back to the task at hand. He got the compass out of his pocket, re-checked the map, and headed for the road that he had marked ahead of time.
In about an hour, he arrived at his destination. He looked up at the building and almost fell backwards. The idea that a building went up amazed him. Back home, everything went downward, underground... But, taking a deep breath, he headed toward the imposing structure and located the door.
Once he entered, he was not prepared for what he heard next - the noise, the sound of voices, hundreds of them, maybe thousands, assaulting his ears. He almost stumbled but steadied himself by holding on to the doorway.
He thought he had prepared himself for what to expect - at least visually - people, lots and lots of people. He knew he'd see far more than he ever did back home. But the voices were unexpected. Suited voices sounded so muffled, so tinny. But these were sharp and lively, with a life of their own. They were making it hard for him to concentrate. But, steeling himself against the noise, he made his way to the Directory and, finding what he needed, headed in that direction.
He entered the room he had been searching for and halted abruptly. There he was, the person he so desperately sought, chatting ever so nonchalantly with a few people, with others anxiously looking on, awaiting their turn with him. "How am I ever going to get his attention," he sighed. Wait,..wait,... the people were leaving and for a moment, no one else made a move toward him. He had to go now, right now, before he missed his only opportunity.
His feet felt like lead but he forced one foot in front of the other until he found found himself standing face to face with ...him! His mouth felt like cotton and his mind a jumbled mess. Open your mouth, you fool!" he screamed in his head and all of a sudden he started to stammer...
"Uh, gr.., I mean, ..uh, Bill, ..I mean, .. Mr Schmidt, ... I need to talk to you urgently. I've come from a long distance and I don't have much time."
"Well, you're right about the time. I'm due to speak in ten, no, make that nine minutes. If you want to say something, you'd better hurry up - I'm listening."
William Schmidt looked kindly at the nervous wreck standing in front of him. He urged him on with his eyes, as his hand fingered his watch.
Willis took a breath ... Gad, you'd never believe he'd rehearsed this for years. He could recite it in his sleep. But now, now in his presence, he couldn't put two words together in a row that made sense. All of a sudden, like an open faucet, the words just tumbled out uncontrollably.
"Mr. Schmidt, you have to fight to bring back "Prey". I know you had problems when it first aired and it got pulled. But loyal fans brought it back to finish that first year because they saw its worth. You had your finger on the pulse of what was happening to the world - things that needed to be corrected - like global warming, pollution, and genetic manipulation. People were becoming aware. They needed to hear what you had to say. - not just be entertained."
Look, son - the only thing that "Prey" made the network aware of was that their idea and my idea of entertainment was vastly different. They thought I was crazy to push this kind of story and I can't imagine their thinking changing that much in two years. And to prove who had the power, "Prey" got canned."
"Canned .... you have no idea how I hate that word," said Willis with a shudder, thinking of the O2 canisters back home, "you have an opportunity to bring "Prey" back again, look at all the loyal support you have here today. You let "Prey" get canned this time again, and you have no idea what they'll can in the future. Please bring it back. People need to be brought back to reality about what's happening to the environment. You have no idea how much of the future is riding on what you decide to do."
"I'm sorry, Mr....um-m, Willis." said Mr Schmidt. "I appreciate your passion to the show, along with all the others here. I would love to see "Prey" back on the air, but it just may not happen. And, after all, it is just a TV show." Then Mr. Schmidt shook his hand and turned toward the podium.
Willis was about to grab his arm, to make one more desperate plea, when he heard the alarm go off on his watch. "I can't believe it! My time's up. I have to make it back to the coordinates before it's too late." He silently prayed that the others here, what did they call themselves, ...preymates?... would be able to have more influence on Mr. Schmidt and the other powers that be. "Please don't fail me, please don't fail the world, preymates" he thought and reluctantly left the room.
Getting through the throngs of people that continued to arrive slowed him up and in order to get back in time, he decided to take a taxi. He was rather excited at the prospect of riding in one. Use of enclosed, all-terrain vehicles, was limited back home and he'd never had the chance to ride in one. Riding in a cab would be a rare treat.
Spotting the place he needed to get out, he said to the cab driver "Pull it over." (He'd heard that phrase on an old vid-tape and always wanted to say that.) Willis threw the rest of his money into the front seat, hoping it was enough to pay for the fare, and took off sprinting. In his haste, his feet became tangled in some brush, and he went sprawling into the dirt. Scrambling to his feet, he quickly searched for the rock he'd left as a marker for the coordinates. Spying it, he ran towards it, yanking the remote out of his pocket. He only had a few seconds left.. Hands shaking, he found the "GO" button and pressed it.
Slam. The "brick" wall, he thought. Re-entry felt even worse than the first time and he found himself laying on the Chamber floor trying to gather his wits. Lying there, his mind travelled back to his conversation with William Schmidt. Did he make his point or did he sound likea crazed lunatic. "Lunatic, definitely," he lamented, and shook his head in despair.
He thought about his world - some 60 or so years in the future, from Bill Schmidt's day. If only people hadn't been lulled to sleep about what was happening to the environment. The worse things got, the more people wanted to laugh, and bury their heads in the sand, as if it would just go away like a bad dream. "Well, it's no dream, guys .... and we ain't laughing now!"
He was finally able to get up but his mind continued on that fateful conversation. What did he say - "'Mr. Willis, .... it is just a TV show'. Well, it was far more than that..... Hey,- hey, wait a minute, he called me 'Mr. Willis'..... I never told him my name." Instantly his hand flew up to his lapel and he felt the university Identi-Tag still pinned there. He took it off and looked at it: 'WilliS' , it said.
"How I hate that name." - but that's what everyone one called him and he had sort of accepted it. He never liked the way the computer shortened everyone's name to five letters as though they'd run out of letters , the way they'd run out of air. He always felt part of his identity was being lost. Just for the heck of it, he decided to fill in the missing letters. He'd probably get in trouble for defacing university property, but, look at the trouble he was going to get into for using the chamber without permission.
He took out his pen and wrote: Willi-am S-chmidt, III. "I never even got to tell him I'm his great, great grandson.
Finally steady enough to stand up, Willis got to his feet and dug in his pockets for his keys. Nothing, ... where were they??? He'd made sure he had them, especially the second key, so he could get out of the chamber. He searched the room and his clothes one more time and realized he must've dropped them when he fell running to the coordinates.
Feeling trapped, he lunged at the door, again and again. Nothing. Not a budge. He pounded on the door with both fists. He screamed "Let me out." at the top of his lungs until he was hoarse. Still nothing. He knew this was summer vacation now, and no one would be in the lab for a very long time. And the unthinkable had happened, the Chamber, had indeed become his "cage" as well.
Worn out, he slid to the floor in a heap and just lay there. Now, he had even greater reason to hope that his great, great grandfather would continue his work on "Prey". His own family was now involved. He had to get out of this cage before he died in it! Now he knew how 'Tom' felt, being left in that cage with no way out. He sat there and silently prayed that his plea and the plea of all the preymates of the past had be heard. He shouted one last time "Let me out of this cage!" and waited, hopefully, for the world to transform around him.