I shrug. I’m not sure what to say. People don’t usually appreciate this about me. “How do you know so much about my life?” I ask.
“Computer access, manuals, word of mouth.” He points to the stations. “Can’t always keep up with the technology you all have, but we’re good at capturing information.”
“I don’t understand how you could have my fingerprint.”
“Oh, that’s standard stuff. When you push a button in your dream home, your fingerprint is automatically sent to us electronically. The most exciting part of our technology is”—he lowers his voice—“it incorporates the desire component.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means it’s partially powered by what the user wants.” He touches his chest. “In here. Some people call it the heart factor.”
I’m trying to figure out how this could even be possible, when Sparky enters my name on a keyboard.
“Let me show you a few things,” he says.
A picture of my old house pops up on the big screen facing us. Alongside it, my school, my family, and all of my school photos appear.
“The one question I have is why you didn’t go into managing the basketball team. The games never seemed to work for you.”
“I like to play.”
“Ah yes, dreaming is intoxicating, isn’t it? I suppose you want to go home too.”
“Of course.”
“Let me frame the question differently for you. Is Uncle Red’s home?”
I don’t want to talk about this, but he’s waiting for an answer. “I dunno,” I mumble.
“Well look, let’s not waste time here. You’re off the clock right now, but that will change soon enough. Here’s what you need to know. You can come work for me. It’s not Headquarters or anything, but it’s pretty nice up here.
“Or you can attempt the trip to Uncle Red’s. You won’t be given the same amount of time as Mouse and India because of the deal you made, so I’d lay odds for you at . . . well, let me first ask, there wasn’t a cat in your dream house, was there?”
“What difference would that make?”
“Unpredictable element. Skews the statistics.”
“No cat.”
“I didn’t think so. Let me look at you.” He walks in a circle around me, inspecting from every angle. “One in one hundred thousand, given your general physical condition.”
“One in one hundred thousand to get to Uncle Red’s?”
Sparky nods. “Afraid so.”
“What are the odds of getting back there?” I point to my old house on the screen.
He shakes his head. “No chance at all. On the other hand, this”—he points at the surrounding room—“is a sure thing. One hundred out of one hundred.
“The journey to Uncle Red’s will be very, very difficult. Actually, difficult doesn’t even begin to describe what will be required of you. I wish they could make it easier. People think Headquarters should be able to.” He shrugs. “But they can’t change the laws of nature any more than I can. I’ll do my best, Finn, but if you decide to continue on, there’s not much help I can provide.”
“I don’t understand.”
He nods. “Too much information. It’s the story of my life. Look, just keep this in mind. If you want to take me up on my offer, pick up a white courtesy phone. If the heart factor is in line, the phone will connect automatically to me. But this isn’t a default option. You’ll have to choose while you’re still on the clock. The people on default—” He shakes his head, his lips pursed. “Their hearts aren’t in it.”
I look around for a wall clock, a computer clock, a clock anywhere. “What clock?” I ask.
“The puzzle pieces Chuck gave you . . . When you put them together, Chuck will bring you your clock. The clock will let you know how much time you have to make your decision.”
“About whether to come here or not?”
“Exactly. If you decide you want to travel to Uncle Red’s, you’ll need to find the black box within the allotted time.”
“What black box?”
“The black box is a simple information receptacle. It will tell you precisely what you need to know. The tricky part is locating it. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a tunnel dog to help you. Unfortunately, that whole area is out of my jurisdiction. You’ll have to deal with Francine on that, I’m sorry to say. And she’s not a believer in free will.
“Now, I apologize in advance for the downward motion phase. If you were to decide to opt out right now and come work for me, I could keep you from it.” He pauses hopefully.