James Grippando - Leapholes

"You may stay," said the captain.

The man returned to his seat. The captain again turned away to hide the button. Then he presented the next passenger with the same unthinkable decision. "Choose," said the captain.

The man stared at the captain's fists. Rivulets of rainwater ran down the man's face. Finally, he pointed and said, "I choose the left."

The captain opened his fist. It was empty. No button.

"Over you go!" the captain shouted.

"No!"

The crewmen grabbed him. The man squirmed in their arms, but the sailors were too strong.

"Someone, help me!" the man shouted. No one moved. The crew heaved him overboard, and the man soared into the air, arms flailing. Ryan looked away, but he heard the splash as the unlucky man met his fate.

"This is sheer madness," a woman behind him whispered.

"It's the only way," another man replied. "Or we'll all go down."

The captain continued down the row, stopping next at an old woman. He gave her the same choice. She made the correct one. He moved to the next passenger. "I choose the left, sir." Wrong choice.

"Over you go!"

The captain and his two crewmen moved methodically through the lifeboat, covering each row of passengers. Everyone was given the same chance. Everyone played by the same rules. The captain treated everyone the same, giving them the same choice. Right or left? Live or die? There were winners, and there were losers. Ryan turned and glanced at the surging seas behind the lifeboat. The losers had already disappeared into the black, churning ocean.

Finally, the captain was standing before Ryan.

"Your turn, son," said the captain.

Ryan took a hard look at the captain's face. His cheeks were red and raw from the winter storm, but there was no emotion in the captain's eyes. He had the self-assured and determined expression of a man who was simply doing his job. He extended his closed fists away from his body, looked at Ryan, and said, "Choose one."

Ryan stared at his choices. Right or left? He tried to make up his mind, but in his gut he felt nothing but revulsion for the whole process. It was the same feeling he'd had back in the hospital. No one had the right to choose who lives or dies.

"This is so wrong," said Ryan.

"Choose one, or you go overboard!"

The crewmen were at the ready, poised to pitch Ryan overboard if he refused to cooperate. It seemed like a contradiction, but Ryan had no choice but to make a choice.

"I choose the right," said Ryan.

The captain breathed a heavy sigh. Ryan couldn't tell if it was a sigh of relief or a sigh of pity. Slowly, the captain opened his right fist and said, "I'm sorry, son."

His hand was empty. Ryan's heart sank.

"Crew," said the captain. "You know what to do."

"Please, no," said Ryan.

The sailors grabbed him and lifted him from his seat.

"Hezekiah!" Ryan shouted.

One of the sailors grabbed Ryan's arm. The other grabbed his ankles. Ryan kicked and squirmed, but the crewmen were too strong. He couldn't believe this was happening.

"It's okay, Ryan," said Hezekiah. "Virtual legal environment, remember?"

His words did nothing to put Ryan at ease. Ryan was a skeptic when it came to leapholes, no doubt about it. But this was unlike anything he'd ever seen any computer ever do. This felt too real. The adrenaline rushing through his body was real.

The pounding of his heart was real. The fear that cut to his core was real.

"Hezekiah, stop this right now!"

"I can't stop it!" said Hezekiah.

The lucky survivors ducked out of the way as the crew carried Ryan above a row of passengers. They were just a few steps away from the side of the lifeboat.

"Hezekiah!" he shouted, kicking desperately as each word left his lips: "DON'T… LET… THIS… HAPPEN!"

"Find the leaphole, Ryan. Just find the leaphole!"

Ryan tried to understand what Hezekiah was saying, but he had no idea what he meant. Find the leaphole? What leaphole? Hezekiah had the leapholes in his jar back in his office.

The crewmen raised Ryan up over their heads. Ryan gave one last effort to wrest himself free, but it was pointless. On the count of three, the sailors hurled Ryan over the side.

Ryan was suddenly airborne, caught in the cold north wind. For a moment, he felt as if he were a bird soaring above the ocean. But the sensation of flying soon gave way to the terrifying feeling of falling.

"Hezekiah!" he called out.

The old lawyer grabbed a ring-shaped life preserver from the back of the boat. It was identical to the one Ryan had spotted on board ship. It was white with black letters that spelled out the ship's name, The William Brown.

A sailor tried to snatch the life preserver away from him. "That's for the winners, not the losers."

"Nonsense," said Hezekiah. He broke free and heaved the life preserver overboard. It soared through the air like a Frisbee and splashed into the crest of a powerful wave. It came to rest on the surface-exactly where Ryan was about to land.

All of this happened in a matter of seconds, but for Ryan it seemed that the world had switched to slow motion. The life preserver sailing through the air. The white ring coming to rest below him. And Hezekiah's words ringing in his ears: Find the leaphole, Ryan!

Suddenly, the life preserver didn't look like a life preserver anymore. Instead of bobbing in the water, it began to turn clockwise. The turning became faster. Soon, it was a swirl-a swirl so large and so swift that the water around it began to turn as well. In the blink of an eye, the swirl was a tight whirlpool.

Ryan tried to change his course and avoid the whirlpool. But it was as if some force had grabbed him in mid air and was pulling him into a hole. He landed feet first. A powerful suction immediately took hold of his entire body, pulling down, down, down, into deep cold water.

Ryan didn't feel cold. Or wet. He knew he was underwater, or at least he knew that he was supposed to be underwater. Around him there was only darkness, but there was a light above. It was like staring up at the night sky through a telescope.

The next thing he saw was a pair of canvas basketball shoes plunging through the hole. It startled him at first. Then he recalled his first few moments in Hezekiah's office, when he had been surprised to see the old man dressed in a business suit and wearing basketball shoes. The same shoes were coming toward Ryan now. Hezekiah came right along with them.

Ryan couldn't speak. Everything around him was a blur. The feeling was exactly like the sensation he'd felt when he and Hezekiah had traveled from his office to the race track, to Wrigley Field, and to that bus in Alabama. Hezekiah was with him. They were speeding through a strange tube of some sort.

They were headed straight down another leaphole.

When Ryan and Hezekiah finally landed on their feet, they were standing in a long hallway with soaring, cathedral-style ceilings. Tall columns of fluted granite supported sweeping stone arches. The floors were polished marble, and the gloss was so high that Ryan could almost see his own reflection.

Ryan removed his VLE helmet. His clothes were soaking wet. "Where are we?" he asked.

Hezekiah took him by the arm. "Come with me. There's not a minute to spare."

They walked quickly down the impressive corridor to a set of double brass doors. The sign on the door read,

"What society?" said Ryan.

"Never mind that," said Hezekiah. "You're not a member. Quiet now. I could get in big trouble for bringing you here." Hezekiah pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the doors. The heavy door opened slowly. Hezekiah pushed Ryan inside. He took him straight to a locker with an old oak door that bore the name HEZEKIAH. The old man opened it and removed a black robe. It reminded Ryan of a graduation gown.