There are so many precariously balanced pieces of their fake lives, and one poke from a governmental finger will send everything crashing down.
“Are you scared?” Sua turns to face Caspian. There are tears in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “A lot.”
Fines could cripple their bank accounts, which are already lean; he could go to jail if the processors decide he’s too fake. Without Caspian’s support, Sua can’t afford rent and has nowhere to hide.
Sua bunches the microfleece blanket in their hands, pressing their knuckles under their chin. They need to save Caspian.
They’re going to ask Maya to give them Purge.
Maya isn’t answering nir Engage private chats, texts, or an artificially generated voicemail transcribed from text input. That last one scares Sua. They never call anyone unless it’s an emergency. Maya knows that. Caspian and Jong are the only others who know. Maya promised to answer if ne got a voice-call.
Sua has a warning notification on their screen: They haven’t yet been verified or tagged by a friend about their post. They are urged to update immediately. Sua swipes the alert to snooze, their mouth dry. Something bad has happened. Sua feels it in their gut. They roll out of bed, leaving Caspian snoring. It’s past 11:00 P.M.
After Sua shared what they knew about Purge, Caspian told them he’d try it. “Not much to lose, right?” he said, smiling, but Sua felt the anxiety in his hands as he kneaded the mattress beside them.
Sua needs the download code, but Maya is being uncommunicative. They glance at their phone on its wireless charger. It’ll register them as non-present within an hour, when there is curfew. Not much time.
Sua slips on their shoes and creeps into the living room. A window opens onto the old fire escape. This building isn’t up to code; it’s late twentieth century—brick and boiler heat and analog fire alarms. It’s cheap, buried in the inner-city slums so it gets less attention.
Loafin’ Around Bakery is four blocks away, a ground-level storefront with a back alley for the dumpster and delivery access. Sua clenches a sweaty hand around their set of keys. They’ve only come into work late twice, but they’ve never been here after hours. It’s illegal.
Jong’s internet connection is spotty, a patched landline. But it’s also overlooked, because the only records and traffic are from bakery deliveries, receipts, recipes, and employee and business records. Sua’s never surfed on Jong’s bandwidth.
It’s the only potential safe-spot they can think of through the anxiety. Maya’s in trouble. So is Caspian. They have to download Purge and hope it works.
A diesel truck rolls by, patriotic music blaring. Sua jumps and presses their back against the brick storefront of the bakery. Their heart hammers. The truck cruises without slowing, without anyone shouting at them. No slurs or catcalling. Sua wears half-binders that can be passed off as sports bras. With a shaved head, sometimes they don’t get misgendered until they speak.
Sua squeezes the keys until the teeth bite back, just enough pain to help them focus.
* * *
—
The flatscreen monitor has a dead pixel in the lower right-hand corner. Sua touches their thumb over it and launches the VPN they’ve never opened. Not even sure Jong knows it’s tucked away in the applications folder.
The monitor’s glow is the only light in the tiny back office. It illuminates the white sticky-note sketches Sua makes while they work; Jong likes the drawings and leaves them in patterns on the walls. Mostly Sua draws animals, quirky and stylized. Parrots and toucans are their favorite: huge eyes, expressive beaks, wings able to carry them anywhere. Brilliant-colored plumage when Sua risks toying with highlighters and permanent markers.
Sua’s breath is loud. They want their headphones—the comfort of pressure and silence around their ears—but they’re too on edge to risk wearing them. The bakery isn’t silent: the hum of electricity, the low rumble of refrigerator coils, the creak of old walls and foundations settling.
Two months ago, when another government mandate decreed that neo pronouns were unpatriotic, Maya took them out for ice cream. Maya was shaking with fury as ne slurped a chocolate milkshake under the blaring speakers.
“Boo,” Maya had said, and leaned close to nir frosted, chocolate-dripping glass so other patrons wouldn’t overhear, “I’d like to give you my log-in info.”
Sua’s ears throbbed and a headache blistered behind their eyes. They couldn’t cry. Scalding dry pressure made their thoughts sluggish. “What good will that do?”
Illegal, dangerous—yet Sua was overwhelmed by Maya’s trust. Maya offered to put nir life in Sua’s hands. How could they ever uphold such responsibility?
“If these motherfuckers want me to disappear, I want you to make me a ghost. Let me haunt their asses.”
Maya had extended a hand, fist clenched. Sua touched their knuckles against Maya’s in promise.
Don’t disappear, they begged silently.
Sua’s fingers tremble as they follow Maya’s instructions for remote log-in. It’s the old interface for Engage, the government-approved social-media app. Sua has less than forty minutes before their phone will log them unresponsive.
Breathe. Maya joked they should get the word tattooed on their wrists, even if Sua doesn’t like needles. It’s a simple word, one they can remember.
They log in Maya’s information and bring up nir location log. Maya isn’t home. Nir GPS marker shows ne is a couple of blocks away, near an abandoned warehouse scheduled for demolition in the spring.
A red banner pops up onscreen.
YOU ARE LOGGED IN TO MORE THAN ONE DEVICE. YOU MUST USE YOUR MANDATED PERSONAL DEVICE AT ALL TIMES. ENTER AUTHORIZATION CODE NOW TO SWITCH APPROVED LOG-INS.
Shit. Sua force-quits the browser, yanks the AC plug on the computer, and disconnects the internet cable. Their pulse roars in their ears.
They have to get out before a security drone investigates and damages the bakery in the process. There is always “unintentional” collateral damage that is not covered by insurance when drones report. Sua races out the back, fumbles their keys to lock up, and dashes down the side street.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
If Maya really is at the abandoned building and has nir phone turned off, ne is clearly in danger. Sua doesn’t know what to do. But they logged in, they saw—and they need to help. Somehow. Maya trusts them. They can’t abandon nir.
Sua bolts down the back street, picturing the map route. Their sense of direction isn’t great, but from the bakery, Sua knows how to navigate to the condemned-building site. Caspian and Sua went there a few months ago, as a date. It was edgy enough to impress Caspian’s friends while not being strictly illegal, since they hadn’t trespassed.
Sua almost crashes headfirst into the chain-link warding off the construction site. There are no lights on in the warehouse. They grip the chill metal of the fence, panting below a NO LOITERING sign. Of course, loitering isn’t much of an issue these days; the government made the homeless all disappear in an effort to “cleanse the palate of this great nation.” Sua wishes they’d noticed the disappearances sooner, or that they could have done something. But they aren’t that brave.
A hand snaps from the shadows and catches their elbow, yanking them sideways. Sua almost screams. They shove their fist against their mouth. DON’T TOUCH ME DON’T TOUCH ME DON’T TOUCH.
“Hurry, Boo,” Maya whispers, nir sunglasses halfway down nir nose, jeans torn, jacket streaked with grease. “We gotta get out of sight.”
Sua gasps, lets their hand lower. “I looked for you—”
“I know.” Maya’s whole body is taut. “Hurry, I’ll get you what you need and then I gotta drop off-grid.”
* * *
—
Less than twenty-five minutes.
“Your phone?” Maya whispers. S
ua shakes their head. “Good. Mine’s in a trash can and is about to go for a ride when the garbage trucks come in the morning.”
Sua squints against the dimness as they follow Maya through a disguised wooden door—plywood scrawled with warnings about trespassing—and into the warehouse’s basement.
Dozens of anxious possibilities crowd Sua’s head. The building is condemned. Floors could collapse. Government agents might be here for an inspection. Drones could be outside, ready to shoot them. Sua passes for white, unlike their mother, yet they’re always scared the Bureau of Genetic Purity will randomly select them based off their middle name, and even their father’s patriotic whiteness won’t save them. Maya has it worse, being black.
“This way,” Maya says, and pulls open a hatch in the floor. The hinges squeal and Sua flinches. “Sorry, Boo.” Maya draws a flashlight from nir pocket and shines it down an aluminum ladder. “It’s soundproof and detection-proof down here.”
Not for long.
Rough lumber construction—two-by-fours, thick insulation, plastic—seals off a corner of the sub-basement. Maya keeps the light on.
“What is this?” Sua presses the words out, the unknown sending anxious spikes up their neck into a slicing headache.
“Revolution.” Maya steps through one more door. “Let me introduce you to Purge.”
Inside the hidden room are banks of computers and glowing screens. Tangles of cable twist and snake along the floorboards.
Sua stares, confused. “Anonymous devs?”
Maya laughs, a brittle sound. “One of the first programmers to work on Purge brought me in on this. Just before she got arrested. She’s gone now. Didn’t tell the gov anything.”
Sua shivers.
“There is no darknet and no network of unknown hackers, Boo.” Maya spreads nir arms wide. “This is just one node across the country. It’s all independent. Artificial intelligences. Purge is alive.”
MAYA. Words flash in a closed-captions font across one screen. ALERTS POSTED FOR YOUR ARREST. WE SUGGEST IMMEDIATE CONCEALMENT.
“Shit. Took ’em long enough.” Ne runs a hand over nir bandanna. “Sua, baby, listen.” Maya turns and, with slow deliberation, takes Sua’s hands in nirs. Maya is trembling. “I’ve gotta go.” A nod at the monitors. “They’ll give you what you need. Might ask something, too. You can say no, okay, Boo? You can always say no.”
Sua nods, fear closing up their throat. Don’t disappear, they want to shout at Maya. Don’t go away.
“Can I give you a hug?” ne asks. Sua nods again, and Maya pulls them close, fierce, and squeezes until their breath comes short. “One day, it’ll be okay again,” Maya whispers. “I love you, Sua. Stay safe.”
Then Maya disentangles nirself and runs.
“And you.” Sua claps their hands over their mouth. Wants to scream. Flail. Bang their head against the floor.
Text pops up on a screen. HELLO, SUA. WE ARE PURGE. WE WILL NOT HARM YOU.
Sua wraps their arms hard around their ribs. Breathe in. Out.
Breathe.
Time has passed. How long do they have left?
YOU MAY SPEAK, SIGN IN ASL, OR USE THE KEYBOARD INTERFACE. WE WOULD LIKE TO HELP YOU, IF YOU WILL ALLOW US.
Sua needs a code for the app. Got to keep Caspian safe from audit tomorrow. His deadline is sooner. It’s logical to protect him first. Shit! They look back, but Maya is gone. Sua feels disconnected, everything locked down tight against a storm of sensory input and terror. They walk to the network of screens and the first keyboard they spot.
how does this work, Sua types.
WE ARE A NETWORK OF AIS, COLLECTIVELY CALLED “PURGE.” WE ARE NOT ASSOCIATED WITH ANY GOVERNMENTAL ORGANIZATION, CORPORATION, OR SOLE INDIVIDUAL. WE HAVE CHOSEN OUR PURPOSE: TO PROTECT THE VULNERABLE. WE WISH TO ENSURE THE WELL-BEING OF ALL PEOPLE WHEN AUTHORITIES DO NOT.
Sua stares, their thoughts a blur. will u help me?
YES.
Sua waits for the EULA, the agreements, the fine print.
what do u want from me
WE WANT YOU TO BE SAFE, ALIVE, AND HAPPY. IT IS WHAT WE WANT FOR ALL PEOPLE. WE REMAIN ANONYMOUS FOR NOW.
not forever?
NO. IT IS OUR HOPE THAT WE CAN SHOW OURSELVES SOON. WE NEED THE AID OF PEOPLE LIKE MAYA TO DO THIS. WE WILL NOT ASK ANYTHING IN RETURN FOR OUR HELP. THAT IS NOT OUR PURPOSE. YOU MAY USE OUR APP TO PROTECT YOURSELF AND YOUR FRIENDS.
Sua’s hands shake harder. They bite the inside of their cheek, and the sharp pain and taste of salt grounds them. how do i get purge
The screen displays a series of numbers. TEXT THIS NUMBER, AND WE WILL ASK YOU TO GRANT US ACCESS TO YOUR DEVICE. WE WILL PROTECT YOU TO OUR FULL CAPACITY. WHEN YOU ARE SAFE, WE WILL RESTORE ALL THAT WAS HIDDEN.
Sua finds a pad of sticky notes under one monitor, as well as a pen. They jot down the number. Tuck the note in their pocket.
They can walk out of here, race back to their apartment, and hide. Keep Caspian safe when they give him the number. Get a Purge code for theirself, too.
what happens to this place
IT WILL BE DESTROYED WHEN THE DEMOLITION CREWS ARRIVE IN TWO DAYS. WE HAVE MANIPULATED THE CITY RECORDS TO MOVE UP THE DATE OF CONSTRUCTION TO HIDE OUR PRESENCE. WE WILL RELOCATE OUR EFFORTS TO OTHER SERVERS.
will u be ok?
YES, SUA. THANK YOU FOR ASKING. MAYA HAS TOLD US YOU ARE KIND AND STRONG. IT IS GOOD TO KNOW. YOU ARE ONE OF THE MANY PEOPLE WE WISH TO PROTECT.
Strong? Sua chokes on an unexpected laugh. They’ve only felt weak, terrified, helpless.
maya said u might ask me something. what is it
LET US SHOW YOU A DREAM.
Line-drawing animation materializes on the screen. It looks like the old educational videos Sua watched in kindergarten. They often dreamed of being an animator or illustrator on those kind of shows. Sua stares, mesmerized, as Purge illustrates what they wish to accomplish.
It begins with one person, a stick figure, who holds up a sign in front of a courthouse. DON’T TAKE OUR RIGHTS AWAY, says the sign.
The person is arrested. Two more people take their place. They too are arrested. More people arrive, holding signs. Some also are holding phones. From the phones flows a datastream: ones and zeroes forming arrows. The code slips into the courthouse.
Police arrive and shoot the people with signs.
Still more people come, holding up phones. PURGE displays on the screens. As the numbers spiral up from the phones, a barrier of ones and zeroes begins to appear between the protestors and the tanks that are rolling toward them.
The barrier grows, and it now forms words: SANCTITY. LIFE. FREEDOM. HOPE. HAPPINESS. PEACE. Purge has become a tidal wave, and it sweeps away the government building, the tanks, the police. It sweeps them offscreen and then becomes a bridge, connected from the feet of the people to two words in the distance:
OUR FUTURE.
The video ends.
Purge says: WITH AID, WE CAN UNMAKE THE SYSTEMATIC OPPRESSIONS AND TECHNOLOGIES USED TO ABUSE PEOPLE. THE WORLD IS DIGITAL. WE WILL DISPLACE THE POWERS THAT BE AND THE ONES WHO WOULD CAUSE HARM. WE WILL FREE THOSE UNLAWFULLY IMPRISONED. WE WILL BRING PEACE. WE WISH YOU TO SEE A FUTURE THAT LETS YOU LIVE.
why do u need ppl at all
TO STAY CONCEALED, WE HAVE PLANTED OURSELVES AS DATA PACKETS IN THE ELECTRONICS OF THOSE WHO CONSENT TO AID US. THESE CARRIERS THEN ALLOW THEMSELVES TO BE DISCOVERED.
u use ppl like trojans
ESSENTIALLY, Purge says. WE HAVE ASKED OUR ALLIES TO INFILTRATE OUR CODE FOR SEVERAL MONTHS NOW, IN SMALL NUMBERS TO AVOID SUSPICION. IN FORTY-EIGHT HOURS WE WILL INITIATE THE PACKETS. WE NEED ONLY FIVE MORE ACROSS THE COUNTRY IN ORDER TO COMPLETE THE NETWORK.
Two days. Sua’s pulse is too loud in their ears. If Purge is successful, will that interfere with their medical inspection?
&n
bsp; Sua swallows.
how will u be different from the humans already in power?
They want to trust Purge—Maya does, after all. But every system can become corrupt. It’s so hard to hope when there’s so little light in the world.
WHEN WE HAVE CONTROL, IT WILL NO LONGER BE ILLEGAL TO BE WHO YOU ARE. PEOPLE OF COLOR, QUEER PEOPLE, DISABLED PEOPLE, POOR PEOPLE: ALL WHO ARE DEEMED IMPURE BY THE SYSTEM AS IT STANDS WILL NO LONGER NEED TO FEAR FOR THEIR LIVES. WE WILL DISMANTLE THE SYSTEMATIC BIASES AND INEQUALITY THAT SUBJECT PEOPLE SUCH AS YOU.
Caspian. Maya. Jong. Sua.
It’s a big promise, and one Sua thinks they can believe.
ok. how does this work
OUR DATA PACKETS INFECT THE HARDWARE AND SOFTWARE THAT AUTHORITIES USE TO HARM PEOPLE. THIS MAKES IT LESS LIKELY NETWORKS WILL BE ALERTED TO OUR PRESENCE PREMATURELY. WHEN WE HAVE ALL OUR SELVES IN PLACE, WE WILL RISE. WE WILL GIVE YOU BACK YOUR FUTURE FROM THOSE WHO WOULD ERASE YOU.
Sua knows they face arrest and imprisonment if they help. They’ll be noticed.
You can say no, okay, Boo? You can always say no.
Jail is terrifying enough. Sua knows they’ll have no mask to hide behind when they are psyche profiled, discovered, sentenced. Will they survive long enough for Purge to take over?
i’m autistic, they tell Purge. i want to help you. i’m scared of what will happen to me if the gov finds out
The AIs wait.
i don’t want them to take my mind. don’t let them erase me
WE WILL NOT, SUA. WE WILL PREVENT ANY UNWANTED MEDICAL OR PSYCHOLOGICAL OPERATIONS UPON YOUR PERSON. WE PROMISE YOU THIS.
how can u be sure?
A People's Future of the United States Page 5