Honored: 7 Honorable Mention Stories from the Writers of the Future Contest

Honored: 7 Honorable Mention Stories from the Writers of the Future Contest Page 1

by Michael D. Britton

Honored:

  Seven Honorable Mention Stories from the

  Writers of the Future Contest

  by

  Michael D. Britton

  * * * *

  All stories copyright 2012 by Michael D. Britton / Intelligent Life Books

  Author’s preface:

  Thanks for buying HONORED: SEVEN HONORABLE MENTION STORIES FROM THE WRITERS OF THE FUTURE CONTEST. As the title implies, it’s a collection of stories that caused the illustrious judges at the Writers of the Future Contest to stand up and take notice, deliberate over, and eventually decide to give some kudos. Although these tales didn’t win the contest and a coveted spot in the annual anthology, each of these stories merited special recognition, including a shout out on the Writers of the Future blog, and a certificate sent to me by mail.

  The world-renowned Writers of the Future Contest is the best-recognized science fiction and fantasy writing contest in the sf/f world, and has launched many successful fiction careers. The list of judges for this contest is a veritable who’s who of sci-fi and fantasy fiction greats. (So, basically, this is a collection of stories that the very best writers of science fiction and fantasy think are really good.) If you’re a speculative writer who meets the contest guidelines, and you’ve not entered this contest – I recommend it. The contest is run quarterly and is free to enter (and these days, you can even enter online).

  Sincerely,

  Michael

  The File

  Writers of the Future Honorable Mention, September 2007

  * * * *

  The twins were only a month old when Lauren’s File became infected.

  Within hours of the intrusion, she was gone, her neural pathways irreparably damaged by the hostile programming that had been downloaded into her mind. After the initial shock, or perhaps, before the shock had worn off, Kyle White made two life-changing decisions: he would have his own File removed, and he would never allow a File to be implanted in either of his babies.

  ۞

  Kyle closed his leather-bound journal and tucked the pen in the gap between the outer binding and the spine. He wiped at the tears that had dried on his deep brown cheeks, and rubbed his cramped hand. In 2087, writing by hand was becoming a lost art, but it was not his sore writing hand that caused his tears – it was his sore heart.

  Today’s journal entry commemorated Kyle’s twentieth wedding anniversary.

  At least, it would have been twenty years of marriage, if Lauren were still alive.

  Writing about Lauren had brought back the memories for Kyle, freshened the wound, and made it hard to believe that it had been sixteen years since he’d seen his wife’s bright eyes and smile, held her close, or heard her whisper in his ear the words, “I love you.”

  Words he would never hear again.

  They had been high school sweethearts. Now forty-three years old and used to being single, Kyle knew that he could never love again.

  At first, the joy of fatherhood was swallowed up in the loss of his companion, but Kyle knew that, if only for the sake of those two helpless infants, he had to muster the strength to go on after the virus took Lauren.

  The worst part was the guilt.

  Although his mind told him it was irrational, Kyle’s heart harbored a gnawing sense of responsibility for his wife’s demise. Kyle had tried to tell himself that even if he’d never been employed by Neuralinx Corporation, someone else would have helped develop the File-GPS interface. But he’d never know if such a platitude were really true.

  The GPS interface was only one of many File applications. For years, people had been using the File for real-time access to the New Internet, or NI. The File had been integrated with wireless communications, allowing constant, in-mind audio-visual contact with any other File user or group of users worldwide.

  The File utilized fully interactive multi-media, giving File users non-stop access to all the world’s data and entertainment, displaying data feeds in the user’s visual cortex and feeding audio directly to the tympanic membrane. File users did their banking, their shopping, their working and their playing through the NI, using the File that had been implanted in their head at two months of age.

  The economy had undergone a dramatic shift, as libraries, bookstores, music stores, video stores, telephone companies, and television and radio stations had all been transformed by the NI revolution. Now everything went straight from production to the NI, and from the NI to the minds of billions of people worldwide.

  Privacy was carefully guarded for all citizens, through strong legislation that was tightly enforced. However, there were sometimes breaches in security, and even viruses that could be debilitating or fatal to someone with the File. Companies made huge profits in the virus-protection business, and virus insurance had become mandatory in 2064, following a spate of deadly virus attacks.

  Kyle’s contribution to this technological revolution was the development of the seamless GPS interface. A File user need only think of a location, and the GPS interface would calculate the path of least resistance and guide them directly there. When a complex web of high-orbit satellites was launched to eliminate any gaps in wireless NI coverage, Kyle was inspired to develop the GPS interface. The new satellite web would provide the perfect delivery system for GPS data to every individual on the planet.

  Following the unveiling of the GPS interface, Kyle got a swift promotion to department head. With the newfound success, Lauren and Kyle decided it was time to start a family. Less than a year later, Kyle felt like he’d been struck by a train when he was left alone with a tiny boy and girl. Kyle wished he had been struck by a train when he found out that the virus that had left his children motherless had found its way into Lauren’s brain through a security weakness in the GPS interface upgrade that she had installed just six months earlier.

  Kyle fell apart.

  He took a leave of absence from Neuralinx and took the twins away to a cabin in the Rockies. He was still there when the twins turned two months old – the typical age for getting the File implanted. Kyle stayed at the cabin, despite frequent calls from the children’s pediatrician indicating they were overdue for the surgery. It was as standard a procedure as circumcision for newborns to get the File at two months. Eventually, Kyle simply blocked any inbound communications in his File that came from the doctor. After a while, he blocked everyone else, too.

  After six months of peace and quiet, Kyle noticed that he had been gradually deactivating File applications, until he was barely using the File at all. The last piece of news he downloaded was from the tech industry. It indicated that the next generation of File being developed would be ten times more powerful, enabling total recall of personal memory for users. But it would also be impossible to remove without causing death. With the realization that man was becoming slave to his own inventions, he decided he wanted the infernal device out of his head forever.

  Over the previous few months he’d made friends with an old veterinarian in the nearest town, a small mountain community where he’d go to stock up on supplies once a week. After much pleading, he’d managed to convince the old man to remove the File from his head.

  Once the headaches dissipated, the freedom Kyle had felt was exhilarating. Alone with his little ones, he knew he could never return to Neuralinx. In fact, he could never return to life as he knew it. He’d be an outcast. He would have to join the Underground. His new life brought him out of the mountains and into the city of Grantsville, Utah, where an Underground cell t
ook him in.

  Now sixteen years had come and gone, and his babies were adults. The official age of adulthood in the U.S. had been lowered to sixteen back in 2037. This was significant now, because adults could choose for themselves whether they would remain with their parents in the Underground, or receive a File and make their own way.

  Unfortunately, Kyle’s son Devin had chosen to leave the Underground and obtain a File. He wanted to be like “normal” people and live a “normal” life. Thankfully, his sister Mikayla was of a different mind. It was Mikayla who entered Kyle’s room and disturbed his reverie.

  “Dad, are you alright?”

  Kyle faked a smile and nodded. “Yeah, sugar, I’m fine.” He took a shaky breath that betrayed his words.

  Mikayla sat next to him on the bed, put her arm around him and leaned her head onto his shoulder. “I know what today is, Daddy. And it’s okay to feel sad.”

  Kyle’s lips formed a thin line. “Thanks.”

  Mikayla changed the subject. “Did you see the latest news on the holo?”

  “I did. So they’ve rounded up more Underground members as part of the latest crackdown on violators of that blasted File Commerce Act.” Kyle slapped his hand down on the bed in frustration. “The FCA is an unconstitutional law, and ought to be struck down, but the Supreme Court is stacked with fascists these days!”

  Kyle glanced over his shoulder to ensure that the door was secure. News like this always made him nervous. Now more than ever, since Devin had decided to leave.

  “I worry about Devin, too,” said Mikayla, saying the words that Kyle didn’t want to say. “But don’t worry, he won’t stay mad at you. He knows you didn’t mean the things you said. You were both upset when he left.”

  Kyle smiled a real smile this time. “I know, sweetheart. And thank you. You’re a good girl. Now, how ‘bout fixin’ us some dinner?”

  ۞

  Doctor Nathan Matheson stood hunched over his patient, who was lying facedown on the table in the small operating room of the San Bernardino clinic. The lights attached to his glasses cast yellow light into the small crevasse in the back of the woman’s head. Blood kept filling up the hole, making his job difficult.

  “Can I get more suction?” he said with exasperation. The nurse vacuumed out the excess fluid, revealing a tiny computerized device that was wired into the woman’s cerebral cortex with a thousand tiny filaments. Matheson’s irritation stemmed not so much from the difficulty of the surgery as from his nervous mood. If anyone were to find out that he was removing a File, he’d lose his medical license and face prison time. What he was doing he did only as a favor to a colleague, Doctor Sascha LeBruin, the woman whose head he had opened.

  “Alright,” he finally said to his nurse. “I’ve taken care of the problem. Go ahead and close up.”

  As he scrubbed up in the utility sink, he said over his shoulder, “And Abby, make sure to delete the last hour from my schedule record, and then reformat the calendar. I don’t want any kind of record of this.”

  “Yes, Doctor,” said Abby.

  Within two hours, the general anesthesia had worn off, and the thirty-five year old pediatrician wheeled herself out of the recovery room in a wheel chair. Her long blond hair covered the bandage at the base of her skull. To any observer, she simply looked like a normal, tired woman. But despite her weariness her beauty shone through.

  “Any idea when this headache will wear off?” she asked Matheson, placing her fingertips on her temple.

  “Hard to say – I’ve never done this before - I’ve only heard rumors about this sort of thing. Some say your head will pound for a few days. Here. Take these pills with you. You may need them to dull the headaches.”

  Sascha took the bottle of pills with one hand, and clasped the doctor’s hand with the other. “Thank you, Nathan. I know what you risked to do this for me.”

  “Tell me, Sascha, why did you want to remove it?”

  “A lot of children come through my office, Nathan. I know that none of my colleagues agree, but I think the File is causing problems in the kids. I’ve just gotten so turned off by the File because of what I’m seeing. Then, when the government passed the File Commerce Act, I just decided I’d had enough and wanted no more part of it.”

  Matheson squeezed her hand. “Well, I’m just an old doctor. I don’t know what to think of it, to tell the truth. But I do know I’m going to miss you, Sascha. Take care of yourself.”

  ۞

  Ezra Hendricks flew through the air and delivered a round-house kick to his opponent. He landed and crouched in a defensive position, glancing around quickly to assess the remainder of the men in the alley. A flicker of light caught the corner of his eye, tipping him off to a knife attack from his right. With cat-like fluidity, he leapt onto a stack of pallets, flipped over a nearby dumpster, and grabbed a steel rake that was leaning against the alley wall. With one smooth motion he swung the rake around, the tines making a low swooshing sound before embedding in his assailant’s neck with a thud. The knife dropped from the man’s hand as he hit the ground, and Hendricks grabbed it with lightning speed. Before his other attackers could figure out what was going on, Hendricks threw the blade with expert precision, pinning one man’s hand to a door. The third man started to run. Hendricks took off with almost super-human speed and dove through the air, landing on the runner’s back and taking him down to the ground.

  Hendricks pinned the man with his knee and pulled a set of mag-cuffs from his back pocket. Panting from the battle, he said, “Bureau of Communications and Commerce. You’re under arrest. You’re subject to Miranda-Three. If you resist further I’m authorized to kill you.”

  Hendricks looked around to make sure no further attacks were coming, then he hauled his prey to his feet and stalked out of the alley with the man’s arm locked in his fierce grip.

  A driverless car pulled up and the back door opened. Hendricks shoved the man inside and slammed the door. He sent an automated request for a medical security unit to be sent to the alley for clean up of the others. He reached into the passenger side and grabbed his trench coat, slipped it on, turned up the collar, and sent the vehicle on its way. Rain drops started to fall as he walked down the road. In moments the sidewalk was shiny wet. Hendricks rubbed his sore ribs and made File contact with his boss.

  “This is Irving Butler,” said the voice in his head.

  “Hendricks. Case is closed here in Philly. The last of them is on his way to be processed. What’s next?”

  Processing Ludds was a matter of forcibly implanting a File, one that could not be removed without fatal consequences. It was simpler than trying to incarcerate every Ludd in the world. The establishment’s explanation? It was for their own safety, of course, and for the good of civilized society.

  “I want you to head up a new assault on the Underground,” said Butler. “I’m pleased that you’ve shut down the Philadelphia network, but we have bigger problems. Word is that the Intermountain cell is amassing quite a following somewhere in Utah. We don’t know where. Hendricks, I am growing tired of all this opposition. My patience is wearing thin. I want it to be over. Find this cell and capture every member – if they don’t cooperate, kill every one of them.”

  “Acknowledged,” said Hendricks. “I gotta say I’m getting tired of chasing down these Ludds, Sir. I look forward to ending this.” He cut the connection, rubbed the stubble on his chin and stepped out of the rain into a coffee shop. Large drips fell from his coat to the floor. He sat facing the door in a corner booth at the back of the café, and used his File silently to make travel arrangements to Salt Lake City. As a government agent for the Bureau of Communications and Commerce, Hendricks’ File was specially coded for secure access to the NI. For those in the upper echelons of society with even higher clearance, such as Irving Butler, members of Congress, and powerful media moguls, even more elite privileges were granted for instan
taneous command of unlimited information on the PowerNet.

  Hendricks wrapped up his business and switched his File to a heavy metal music channel, turned up the volume, and stepped back out into the pouring rain.

  ۞

  Kyle prepared to address a small group of Underground members. For safety reasons, the cell avoided gathering in large numbers. Kyle was the leader of a group of about twenty Undergrounders. Tonight, they met at his home to discuss the latest developments. To avoid detection, the group had arrived on foot, in ones and twos, several minutes apart.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said. The informal group sat in a circle in his furnished basement. Some fidgeted nervously, others just looked very tired. “I’m sure you’ve heard the news about the FCA crackdown.”

  “It’s ridiculous,” said Fred, a heavy-set man with graying hair and a deep scowl. “This is America. What ever happened to our Constitutional rights?”

  “Of course it’s not right,” said Kyle calmly, “but the Supreme Court has upheld it, like it or not. There are a lot of laws that the Supreme Court has upheld, despite everyone knowing they’re wrong. But they’ve got the power, so we’re stuck with figuring out how to deal with it.”

  “We’re just lucky we still have the right to bear arms,” said Rory. “Not that your crack-shot daughter would ever let them take that away!” Rory was referring to Mikayla’s penchant for target shooting and small game hunting.

  “Yeah, but I hear they’re not going to let you vote unless you have the File,” said a thin young woman with straight, black hair. She was a former nurse, and was relatively new to the group. “How can we expect to change anything if we can’t even make our voices be heard by the decision-makers? The people in power need to hear from the public that this is not acceptable.”

  “Phht,” scoffed Fred. “Voting is going to be the least of our worries before long, Abby. We have to hide like rats as it is. Pretty soon they’ll either round us all up or starve us out, because we won’t be able to buy or sell without the File.”

  “But there are ways around these things, Fred,” said Kyle. “Our barter network is growing. And I have heard from a contact I have in Philadelphia that other cells have been cooperating to form self-sustaining communities. The powers that be may be able to make things hard for us, but where there’s a will –”

  “Bah!” yelled Fred, getting even more agitated. “Without the File we are at too much of a disadvantage. We have limited access to news, our educational opportunities are practically nil, banking is becoming impossible – we may be able to survive, but get ahead? Forget it. And that’s just not good enough. I’m starting to wonder if this is all worth it.”

  The room was silent for a few long moments.

  “Fred, that’s a personal decision,” said Kyle. “Our group is entirely voluntary – in fact, we’re all about freedom. But you know the rules if you decide to leave.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Fred. “If I choose to get a File, I can never attempt to contact any of you again, to avoid tracing.”

  “Fred, you should stay,” said Abby. “Remember why we’re here in the first place. It’s a matter of principle.”

  “Abby,” said Kyle, “let’s table this. Fred can make his own decisions. He knows the stakes, and in the end, what he does is his business.”

  “Thanks, Kyle,” said Fred. “And thanks for your support, Abby. I know you’re just trying to help because you care.”

  Fred’s demeanor seemed to soften and he settled back into his chair, remaining silent for the rest of the meeting.

  “Anyway,” said Kyle, “we can expect that things are going to get worse before they get better. Right now, there are as many as five hundred BCC agents hunting us down nationwide. We have to be more careful than ever.”

  “Have you heard from Devin?” asked Abby.

  Kyle looked down and took a breath. “No, Abby, I haven’t heard from Devin since he left two weeks ago on his sixteenth birthday.”

  “Well, he’s an adult now, Kyle,” said a thirty-something man with a flat top haircut, named Tom. “He can do what he wants.”

  “I know he’s an adult,” said Kyle sharply. “But he’s still my son.” Kyle brooded for a moment. “Don’t you see that’s the problem? If he does get a File, he’ll either honor our rules and never contact me again, or he’ll break the rules and come see us. And if he does that, he endangers us all.”

  “Perhaps you should go as well,” said Tom, “to keep us safe.”

  “I’ve considered that,” said Kyle. “But if Mikayla and I leave, and remain underground, there’ll be no chance of ever hearing from Devin again – whether he gets a File or not. And even if we left, he could still try to come back here looking for us, which would put all of you in danger. Unfortunately, we’ve got a no-win situation that we’re just going to have to deal with for now.”

  Tom’s face was a stone. He did not like the precarious position in which Kyle’s son had placed him and the rest of the cell. He said nothing, looking away in muted anger.

  Kyle brought the meeting back on track. “Look, the FCA may be here to stay, but so are we. And I truly believe that as we continue to stand our ground, our numbers will continue to grow. Cooperation between cells is already increasing. And I think the tighter restrictions placed on the citizens are going to eventually have a backlash effect. A free people will only stand for so much. Last year’s Congressional election brought the New Whig Party into power. They are a more statist regime than any government we’ve had before. This new round of laws is just the beginning – more restrictions, more control, harsher penalties for noncompliance. The New Whigs are friendly with other nations whose corrupt governments control their peoples’ every move through the File. They are pushing a modernization agenda that will eliminate traditional industries. And I just don’t think the people will stand for it for long.”

  “The people voted them into power, Kyle,” said Hank, an elderly man.

  “The last election was a joke, Hank. We both know that File supporters stuffed the ballot boxes. Those votes didn’t represent the people as a whole, and when things start getting ugly, the people will stand up and take back their lives.”

  “You’re a real revolutionary, aren’t you?” said John, in a tone that left Kyle wondering if he was mocking him or impressed by him.

  “No, I just try to see the bigger picture, I guess.”

  “So, what’s the plan look like in this big picture of yours, Kyle?” asked John. “What do we do now?”

  “I’m not the brains of this group,” said Kyle. “We all are. We need to pool our collective talents, more so now than we ever have. We’ve managed to create a pretty good system of bartering for homegrown food and handcrafted items. Now we need to think bigger. Try to make inroads into other cells, so we can work together. Be careful, of course, but test the waters with your associates and see if you can make any connections. Our strength will ultimately come from our numbers. It’s easy for the BCC to label a few thousand people as kooks – call us ‘Ludds’ – but a few million is different story.”

  “You are a revolutionary,” said John, smiling and nodding. “Alright, I’m game. I’ll talk to my brother back in Florida and see how he feels about the New Whigs, see who he likes for the upcoming presidential election – you know, get a sense of where he stands. And then I’ll just take it from there.”

  “Good,” said Kyle. “Let’s all try to think of at least one other person we can each recruit. It’s time to take the offensive. No longer can we just sit here and wait for like-minded people to come to us and join us. We need to start being proactive, because the New Whigs and the BCC are being proactive, and if we don’t counter that, we’ll cease to exist.”

  ۞

  Devin made his way past the corner of 45th South and State Street, then turned down an alley that led behind an auto quick-charge station. The alley was e
mpty, save a cat that was devouring the remains of some Chinese food. He leaned against a wall and waited, eyes fixed on the narrow strip of road he could see between the walls at the end of the alley. This was the time, and this was the place - or so he had been told.

  A vice-like grip came down on his shoulder, causing him to jump and catch his breath.

  “You D?” asked the man attached to the grip.

  “Y-yeah, I’m D,” said Devin, sticking his chin out and trying unsuccessfully to sound tough. “You E?”

  “In the flesh, brother,” said the man, smiling. “C’mon, let’s take this someplace else.”

  He released Devin’s shoulder and led off deeper into the alley, then suddenly turned and walked through a section of the brick wall. He actually walked through the wall, which left Devin shaking his head in wonder.

  “Are you coming, or what?” said E, poking his head out through the holographic masonry.

  Devin smiled and stepped forward, passing through the disguised entrance to the building. Inside it was dark and stiflingly warm. The aroma of Mexican food wafted through the corridor, striking Devin’s nose and reminding him how hungry he was. Getting by in the city without a File was possible, but not easy - it had been several days since Devin had enjoyed a decent meal. Back home everyone knew how to work the land to produce fresh vegetables, and quietly traded food and labor in a private cooperative. Here in the city, things didn’t work that way, and it was one of the few reasons Devin missed home. The other reasons were his sister, and despite their disagreement, his dad.

  Up ahead in the hallway, pale yellow light spilled out of a doorway, illuminating the dusty air. The stranger entered the doorway, beckoning to Devin.

  Devin followed the mysterious E into the room and was invited to take a seat. He looked around cautiously, then slowly lowered himself into a torn leather chair.

  “Alright, dude,” said E. “We’re safe here. My friends tell me you’re interested in a File installation.”

  “And a clean NI account to go with it,” said Devin.

  Legal adult File installations were very expensive, and recipients were subject to extensive background checks to try to vet Underground defectors, part of an effort to find and eliminate Underground cells. As a result, a black market had evolved. Suppliers dealt in low-end, outdated Files scavenged from morgues and other unsavory sources. Later, once they had access to the NI, a buyer could always upgrade their File’s operating system. NI access was the other commodity in high demand, and clean accounts – ones that had no government flags – were especially hard to come by. Buyers typically put their money into obtaining the account, and worried about the File quality secondarily. The danger was that older Files were less secure and subject to viruses.

  “I’ve got plenty of previously owned Files, kid. But a clean account is going to cost you. What have you got in trade?”

  Devin stuffed his hand into the deep pocket of his coat and pulled out a small wad of cloth. He carefully unwrapped it and handed the item from within to E.

  “Gold, eh? Where’d you get this ring?” E inspected the jewelry closely, looking inside the band and reading the inscription.

  “It was my mother’s. She doesn’t need it anymore.”

  “Well, this is great, kid, but it’s not worth much more than six, maybe eight thousand dollars. Tell ya what I’m gonna do, though. I’m gonna cut you a deal. The ring, plus a line on some new business for me.”

  “I don’t follow you.”

  “Well, the only way I could afford to take a loss on doing business with you is if you could point me in the direction of some new business. You don’t happen to know of anybody who may be interested in what I’ve got to sell, do ya?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” said Devin.

  “C’mon, dude, think! You must know some people who don’t have Files, who maybe are thinking about making the big leap from the dark ages to modern life. Family? Friends? Anyone?”

  Devin thought about the Underground, about his father’s cell. He’d been to their meetings. He knew that there were some members who were getting tired of life in the Underground. Maybe some of them would want to get a File.

  “Kid,” said E, “this is a deal breaker, here. I need to be able to recoup my losses if you want get a File and a clean account for less than ten k.”

  Devin pondered again. It had taken him so long just to get this deal set up. He wasn’t sure if or when he may get another opportunity to get a File and a clean account. And who knows – maybe he’d be doing a favor for someone like Fred back in the cell - he was always grumbling about the hardships of living without a File.

  “Alright,” said Devin. “I’ll take you to some people I know who may be interested in doing business with you. But I want my File installed first. After I hook you up with some business leads, I want the NI account access – independent of whether you get a sale.”

  “No deal. I’ll get you the File up front, with installation, but no activation until after I’ve met your friends. And you won’t get the NI account unless I get some business from them. For all I know, you’re just stringing me along. I have to get a sale from your leads or you get nothing but a useless File in your head with no way to use it. Got it?”

  Devin pondered for a moment. “Fine. I’m pretty confident that you’ll manage to get a sale from at least one of the people I know. In fact, I’ll make it easy for you – I’ll introduce you to them all at once. The group I have in mind meets regularly. I’ll take you there after my File is installed and you can give ‘em your sales pitch.”

  “Kid, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  ۞

  A month had passed since her father’s admonition to the cell to recruit new members. Mikayla expected tonight’s meeting to have a newcomer or two, but was surprised when five new people showed up, accompanied by current members. Among them was Sascha LeBruin, who’d been invited by Abby. Mikayla stood near the door with her favorite rifle, a self-appointed guard, and watched as her father worked his way around the room introducing himself.

  “Nice to meet you,” said Kyle, extending his hand to Sascha. “We’re glad you could make it.”

  “Glad to be here,” said Sascha.

  “Sorry about the security measures at the door. We just can’t be too careful these days.”

  Kyle was referring to the use of an antique scanning wand, used to frisk anyone who came in and make sure they did not have any electronic devices embedded in their bodies, namely a File in their head.

  “I understand totally,” said Sascha. “The security measure may keep the group safer, but it also makes me feel better. After all, I don’t know any of you people either.”

  “Well, we’re all looking forward to changing that,” said Kyle with a smile. “Tonight our group has grown by twenty-five percent. It’s really pretty exciting.”

  Kyle moved away and shook hands with each of the other newcomers. Mikayla didn’t like the way Kyle and Sascha had looked at each other. Something inside her triggered a mild sense of revulsion. She caught herself frowning and considered her own feelings. It’s silly to be jealous, she chided herself. I didn’t even know Mom. Dad deserves to be happy. Maybe one day he will find someone, and that will be perfectly alright. I can’t be the lone female in this family forever.

  As she stewed in such thoughts, she rested her weapon on her shoulder and wandered back to her room to write her musings in her journal. As she closed her door, she heard a tap at her window. She squeezed her rifle tightly and lowered it toward the window before realizing who was behind the glass.

  “Devin!” she exclaimed in a whispered voice. She rushed to the window, keyed in the security code, and threw up the sash. “Devin, you’re back!” she said with a grin. Then her cautious nature took over. “Were you followed?”

  “No. But I brought someone who’s interested in joining the cell,” he said, feedin
g her E’s cover story. “Dad’s holding a meeting tonight, right? What are the chances of us getting in?”

  “Actually, pretty good. There’s a new initiative to increase membership. There’s a bunch of new people here tonight. But you’ll have to go around to the front door. Nobody gets in without passing through the security station.”

  “Fair enough. See you in a minute, sis.”

  As Devin slid back through the bushes, Mikayla locked the window and made her way back to the basement. A few moments later, the doorbell rang, and she took her father’s arm, leading him up the stairs to answer the door.

  “What’s this about, Mikayla?” asked Kyle. “We already have someone manning the door.”

  “I think we should answer it this time,” she said.

  As they reached the top of the stairs, they saw another newcomer being scanned for a File. The unfamiliar man stepped aside to reveal Devin, who was also scanned.

  Kyle wordlessly moved to the door and embraced his son. After a long hug, he withdrew and said, “You’re not supposed to be here. Were you followed? And who is this?”

  “No, Dad, I wasn’t followed. And this is a new recruit.”

  The stranger stepped toward Kyle and extended his large, scarred hand. “I’m Ezra,” he said. “I’ve come to learn more about your group, and join, if - if you’ll let me.”

  Kyle looked him over. The man’s trench coat was dirty and stained. Underneath the coat he wore a crisp white tuxedo shirt and blue jeans that bunched up around his scuffed army boots. His angular jaw was covered with about three days growth of stubble, and his hair appeared to be a stranger to any form of grooming.

  “Are they both clear?” Kyle finally asked the cell member manning the door security station.

  “That new guy is clean, but your son has a File. But it’s giving no other readings, like it’s just a dead chip.”

  “Dad, I did get a File installed, but it hasn’t been activated. It’s just cold hardware. There’s no way I could’ve been traced here.”

  “Well, then we should be fine. And Ezra, it looks like you’ve come at the right time,” Kyle said. “We’re just getting started, and today we’re welcoming a number of new people. Come on downstairs.” He looked at Devin. “You realize that some people here are going to have a problem with you being here.”

  Devin nodded and looked at his feet.

  “But we’ll work it out,” said Kyle with a small smile. “I’m glad you came back, son.”

  ۞

  As they were led downstairs, Devin whispered to Ezra, “You don’t even have your own File?”

  “Kid,” said Ezra, “it’s the oldest rule of the street. A smart dealer never uses his own junk – not if he wants to get rich and stay alive.”

  Once in the basement, Hendricks took a seat in the group of Underground cell members. It wasn’t his first time at such a meeting. Infiltrating these gatherings had become second nature to him. And getting past security was as easy as walking though a door. His File was cloaked with a sensory dampening field that masked it from detection by any security measures. The top-secret device was only provided to the most experienced agents.

  He sat and listened to the meeting, memorizing the face of each participant and cataloguing it along with their comments. There was quite a brouhaha over the return of his young acquaintance, Devin. Returning to the fold with a File was a severe breach of security protocols, and several cell members made their strong feelings known.

  “This is entirely unacceptable,” said Tom. “Now what are we going to do? We may be compromised. We need to initiate protocol three.”

  “Hold on,” said Fred. “Do you know what kind of disruption it will cause if we do that? Disbanding, relocating and joining other cells is not the answer, here. Besides, you heard what Kyle said, the File is not even active.”

  “We may have grown informal over the years, Fred,” said Tom, “but the charter is the charter. That File could be activated at any time. We just can’t risk discovery as a result of a stupid decision on the part of Devin.”

  Kyle’s brow furrowed as he heard Tom refer to Devin. He felt torn between his paternal protectionism and the fact that Tom was right: Devin had done a stupid thing. He just wished his son had never left in the first place. But he also knew wishes were not going to get them out of this mess.

  “Listen,” he said, “maybe we need to rethink the charter. In the beginning, the rules made sense. But things have changed over the years. Maybe there’s another way to approach the problem.”

  “Things have changed, alright,” Tom shot back, “they’ve gotten more dangerous. If anything, now is the time we should be clinging more closely to the protocols that we designed to keep us safe. Don’t let your emotions overrule logic, Kyle. He’s your son, but as far as this cell is concerned, he’s a traitor.”

  The room erupted in a chorus of conflicting shouts, as several people came to Devin’s defense and traded words with a few who joined in Tom’s sentiment.

  “People! People!” yelled Kyle, holding up his hands. “Everybody shut up for a minute. Now Tom, you’re right about one thing – things are more dangerous now. But the world is different than it was fifteen or twenty years ago when these cells were first gaining traction. Look around you. We’ve increased our ranks. Tonight alone, we’ve gained six more people. People who are tired of being slaves to technology. No, we’re not Luddites, like the establishment would have the world believe. We don’t mind certain levels of technology. Heck, I’m a techie myself. But we will not lie down and let the government dictate to us how we are to live our lives. The reason we are here in this group is that we don’t want to let a representative body mandate that we alter our bodies and minds to fit in with their version of Utopia. If we start ruling our own group with such an iron hand, we become no better than them. Besides – things are indeed changing. Our push to grow in membership, and the cooperation that’s developing between cells indicates to me that a paradigm shift of great magnitude is on the horizon. I wouldn’t be surprised if the day comes, maybe even before the next election, that we can emerge from the shadows and participate as full, respected, and legal members of society. If we disband and regroup elsewhere, that will only slow down our efforts, Tom. We need to forge ahead, not move backwards. We need to stand up now, not continue to cower, waiting to be crushed by the BCC. Don’t you agree, Tom?”

  The room was silent for a full minute. Having digested Kyle’s moving speech, Tom started to slowly nod. Immediately, the room burst forth into applause.

  This Kyle White really knows how to rally people, thought Hendricks as he clapped gingerly. Oddly, a small part of him started to feel compassion for the individuals seated around him, especially as he thought of the mandate he’d received from Irving Butler: convert or kill the cell.

  Through the evening, as he watched Kyle lead the group and interact with his children, he started to have doubts about Butler’s orders. This man was just trying to protect his family and live his life. There was a time when Ezra might have chosen such a path himself. But that was no longer a possibility. His family was gone, and nothing could be done to change that. His job was all that mattered now, and his mission would bring him the satisfaction he sought. He pushed aside the File-enhanced, perfectly recalled memories of his wife and son, and refocused on his task.

  ۞

  “Ezra, you’ve been to three meetings now. Haven’t you made any sales yet?” asked Devin. Another meeting had just ended, and he was getting frustrated at how long it was taking to complete this deal.

  “Oh, yeah, kid. I’ve sold fifty of ‘em.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course, not! Look, I’ve been in sales for a long time. Longer than you’ve been, well, anywhere. A sales cycle in this business can be weeks, even months. I can’t just walk up to people and start offering Files for sale. Especially not in this group. Ther
e may be some prime candidates here, but there’s also a greater danger of getting in trouble. Can you imagine what would happen if I approached the wrong person – say, Tom? And a bunch of the newcomers here are dead ends because they just got done going through the trouble of having their Files removed. Don’t you see? I have to get to know my potential clientele before jumping into closing deals. Got it?”

  “But I already told you Fred was a likely buyer. And I mentioned two or three others. Why don’t you talk to them?”

  Ezra’s face grew dark. “I’ll say this one time only, Devin.” It was the first time Devin could remember Ezra using his actual name. “Don’t. Rush. Me.”

  Kyle walked up and joined the conversation. “Everything alright over here?”

  “It’s great, Dad,” said Devin with a quick smile. “And thanks again for what you’ve done for me here. Everyone is really nice to me now – even Tom. And – and I’m sorry about what I did – running off and getting the File installed. It was stupid.”

  Ezra noted that Devin sounded sincere. Well, sincere enough to fool his father.

  “It’s alright, son,” said Kyle, putting an arm around the teenager. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

  ۞

  Over the successive weeks, Ezra became friends with many of the members, and especially close friends with Kyle. Each meeting provided a wealth of intel on cell members, plans, and connections with other cells. Ezra’s File-enhanced brain memorized every bit of data as he ingratiated himself with the group.

  It had been two months since Devin had approached him about their deal. Ezra had sufficiently intimidated him with their last conversation on the subject. Meanwhile, the cell had doubled in size, and the meetings were getting crowded with people who’d found various ways to rip the File from their heads. Some of the means were less-than-ideal, leaving a few of the newest members permanently disabled, and giving the group the flavor of a war refugee camp.

  Through his friendship with Kyle, Ezra had learned that the cell leader had something big brewing. A plan that would rock the foundations of the status quo and could potentially do massive damage to the work of the BCC. Ezra just didn’t know what the plan was yet.

  “Hello, everyone,” said Kyle. “Tonight I’m going to get right down to business.” He could barely contain his enthusiasm as he grinned at the large group. “I’ve been working on this for months.”

  He touched a button on his computer and projected an image on the white wall behind him. It appeared to be some sort of schematic, with a high level of detail and a number of flowchart type lines and symbols.

  “Some of you newer members may not know this, but I used to work for Neuralinx. When I left there, more than sixteen years ago, I still had some of their data on my own computer. I’d been working on a solution to a small security problem in the GPS interface, but never finished it because I never went back. Some of the data I had on my computer was proprietary information, stuff I shouldn’t have had. But as time went by, I managed to slip through the cracks of the system, and they either ceased pursuing it, or never tried. For all I know, there’s an old government flag about me out there somewhere on the NI. Either way, it doesn’t matter. In fact, nothing on the NI will matter soon.”

  The group just sat there, waiting patiently for Kyle to get to the point. Ezra shifted in his seat after the last comment. This may be the big unveiling he’d been waiting for – evidence of an active insurrection on the part of this cell.

  Kyle continued. “Now, I don’t want to get too in-depth into the technological details of my plan. But suffice it to say, based on the old, outdated data from Neuralinx, I was able extrapolate a few things, and I believe that I have programmed a self-propagating recursive algorithm that will be unstoppable.”

  “A virus?” asked Sascha.

  “Better,” Kyle said, his eyes gleaming. “It’s a maggot. It embeds itself within the security layer, then expands. This maggot is of such power, and so well camouflaged, that it has the capacity to completely disable the NI within six minutes of its release.”

  “Bring down the NI?” called out Fred. “Everyone with a File would be killed!”

  “Not so in this case,” said Kyle. “That was the part that took so long in the programming – making sure that it was safe for File users. It’s relatively easy to infect the NI and do some localized damage. But such attacks always harm innocents. The Underground we know has never been about that – we’ve always shunned the small, violent factions that have tried those tactics. No, this is different. Not only will it have a worldwide effect on the NI, but it is completely innocuous for File users. It has a failsafe protocol that simply deactivates all Files, then disengages all account access so that users can’t reconnect even if they can get their Files functional again. By the time they can reengage their accounts, the NI will be nonexistent – there’ll be no accounts to engage. And everyone will be safe.”

  “Will it permanently destroy the NI?” asked Sascha.

  “It will cause irreparable damage to the NI’s data delivery system. However, the wealth of actual information will be safe. The Global Server’s redundant storage units will be untouched. People will be able to access that data by more traditional means, but the NI construct itself will be unrecoverable.”

  “Very impressive,” said Ezra. “When do you plan to initiate the maggot?”

  “As soon as possible. That is, provided we all agree.”

  “Shouldn’t we coordinate with the other cells, get everyone’s opinion before going forward?” asked Sascha.

  “Yes, we should,” said Kyle. “In fact, their cooperation is required for my plan. But communicating with all of the Underground, using traditional, non-traceable means, can take time. I wanted to first run this past everyone here and see what you all think.”

  The group fell into a general state of murmuring and side conversations. Ezra approached Kyle.

  “You really think this’ll work?”

  “I’ve run so many simulations, I have no doubt, Ezra.”

  “This is big, man. This is very big.”

  “It’ll change everything.”

  “So, how long do you think it will take to get buy-in from the whole Underground?”

  “Two, maybe three weeks, if we’re really organized.”

  Sascha joined Kyle and Ezra.

  “Kyle, this is really amazing. You’ve outdone yourself,” she said, linking her arm through his.

  The two had become quite close over the past several weeks, despite Mikayla’s reservations. Kyle and his daughter spoke openly together about most things, including Kyle’s interest in Sascha. Mikayla felt cautious about Sascha, fearing her father’s heart would get broken. She knew how much he’d loved her mother, and although she wanted to see him happy, her desire to see him not get hurt was just as strong. Kyle frequently thanked her for her concern, but made it clear that he was an adult and could take care of himself, and that after sixteen years, maybe he was ready to let a new love into his life.

  “This is the paradigm shift I spoke of at your first meeting – do you remember?”

  “Of course I remember,” she said. “It’s the moment I fell in love with you. Oh, I didn’t know it at the time, but in retrospect, that was a real shining moment for you, Kyle.”

  Although Ezra was well-suited to spying, standing next to Kyle and Sascha as they exchanged goo-goo eyes was even too much for him. He excused himself and returned to mingle with the other cell members he had befriended. As he walked off, he glanced back to see Sascha eyeing him suspiciously. Ezra hoped his cover was still solid – he’d hate to have to eliminate Sascha just to ensure his façade could be maintained. He was actually starting to like a lot of these people, but the look Sascha just gave him reminded him that he should not take those friendships too far – he never knew when he’d have to abruptly end such a relationship – or the person’s life.

>   That night, the cell voted to proceed with Kyle’s plan, Operation Maggot. All that was left for Kyle to do was get all the other cells on board. All that was left for Ezra was to wait for the perfect moment to bring down the cell. If he timed it right, he may be able to implement a domino effect to put an end to all the cooperating cells at once.

  ۞

  More weeks passed, and word had finally made its way, by traditional methods, to sixty-one cells across the nation. Coordination between the cells was critical on this operation, because in order to initiate the maggot in such a way that it would circumvent the NI security protocols, it had to be introduced to the system in at least fifty subservers simultaneously. Such a multiple incursion would disable the subserver security redundancies. It was a vulnerability related to the GPS satellite link. And that was something Kyle knew a little about, since it was a weakness in his own design that he had never had the opportunity to tell Neuralinx about before his hasty departure.

  The final planning meeting was tonight. Sascha arrived an hour early, to have dinner with the family, as she had been doing at least twice a week for the past two months. When she arrived, she took Kyle aside.

  “Can we speak in private for a few minutes?”

  “Uh, yeah, sure,” said Kyle, leading her into his study and closing the door behind them. He popped his head back out and called to the dining room, “Mikayla, Devin, go ahead and start without us.” He closed the door again, took a seat, and said, “What’s up, Sascha?”

  “Kyle, I’ll tell you straight out. It’s Ezra. Maybe I’m just getting nervous because the operation is tomorrow, but - I don’t know.”

  “What?”

  “Kyle, I don’t trust him. I just don’t trust Ezra.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Look, I know you two have become pretty close friends. But there’s just something about him. Something’s not right.”

  “What is it?” Kyle said, concerned.

  “I can’t put my finger on it. But given how important tomorrow is, I just couldn’t not tell you I felt this way.”

  Kyle sat back in his chair and said nothing for a long while. He thought about Ezra – the things he’d said, the things he’d done over the past months. He recalled the day he’d arrived – how he’d shown up with Devin that night.

  “Alright, Sascha. I’m going to check on some things – talk to Devin about how he met him, try to learn more about his background. I must admit, as much as we’ve become friends, and as much as he’s helped since his arrival, I really don’t know that much about him.”

  “Think about it,” said Sascha, “you’ve known me for just as long, but I’ve told you all about my past. And it’s not just because we’re romantically involved. Think of Sam, and Holly, and Chen, and Viktor. They’ve all been a lot more forthcoming than Ezra. Even Jean, the most shy of all the newcomers, has opened up more than Ezra has. He’s very smart, helpful, polite, and really seems to believe in the cause. But who is he?”

  “I’ll talk to Devin tonight. One way or another, we’ll find out who Ezra is. If it comes to it, I’ll just ask him straight out. I mean, if he’s got nothing to hide, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

  ۞

  That night, after some serious prodding and an unpleasant argument about “privacy,” Devin told Kyle how he’d hooked up with Ezra in Salt Lake. A man named Cole Pitt had directed Devin to meet with Ezra in the alley that night, in an effort to buy a File. Devin didn’t tell his Dad he’d stolen his mother’s ring and brought it along for payment. Since cell member Tom was a former cop, Kyle had Tom check into Pitt and learned he had a criminal record – some BCC charges - but that he’d made a plea bargain several months ago. There was no record of what he’d agreed to do to earn his freedom.

  The information fed Kyle’s suspicions, but was inconclusive. There was really no way to know what the deal was with Ezra. No way except to talk to him.

  After learning what Tom had found out, Kyle sent for Ezra, then stayed up all night going over the maggot’s code, line by line, making sure there were no errors. The plan was set to go into effect at noon. At six o’clock, as the sun was rising over the Wasatch Mountains, Kyle’s eyes started to lose focus, and he nodded off.

  ۞

  Ezra knocked on the front door, and a few moments later he heard the security beeps, and then saw the groggy-looking Kyle swing the door open.

  “Hey, Ezra. Thanks for coming.”

  “You look tired, man,” said Ezra, stepping into Kyle’s study behind Kyle. “Is everything okay?”

  “The maggot is perfect. But everything is not okay. Well, maybe it is.” He shook his head. “You’re right, I am tired. Look Ezra, today is a huge day. You know that. We’re all a little antsy. I need to know that everyone is on board one hundred percent. That there aren’t any – any surprises waiting for us today. You know?”

  “I understand your anxiety, buddy. This has been a long time coming.”

  “I need to know, Ezra. Why did you come here? I mean, how can you go from selling black market Files one night to joining the Underground the next?”

  Ezra was surprised to hear Kyle mention the method he’d used to gain Devin’s confidence, but it did not show on his face. Instead, his face became a picture of shame and regret. “So Devin told you, eh? Well, I guess you could say I had a change of heart. I started to realize that money isn’t everything. And that some things aren’t worth selling your soul to sell. What I mean is, I used to tell myself that my buyers knew what they wanted, and if I didn’t supply it, someone else would. But I was fooling myself. I realized that first night at that first meeting, when you were talking about changing the paradigm, that one person really does make a difference. Can make a difference.” He chuckled quietly, looking down, then looked up and met Kyle’s eyes. “To tell the truth, I came here planning to sell Files to your members – the ones that were ready to get out. I never expected to discover that I was ready to get in.”

  Kyle rubbed his face and looked back at Ezra with a wan smile. “Hmmph. I can understand why you’d be ashamed to talk about what you used to do for a living.”

  “It is kind of antithetical to the cause, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I’d say,” said Kyle with a short laugh. “Alright, well, I’m just glad we’ve cleared the air. Today is going to be an amazing day, my friend.”

  “I have to say I’m glad, too, to have everything out in the open,” said Ezra. “There’s one other thing.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small package he’d been carrying for months now. “Here. This probably belongs to you.”

  Kyle unwrapped the ragged cloth that cradled a shining band of gold. After some momentary confusion, he looked up at Ezra.

  “My wife’s wedding band? Where - ”

  “Your son paid me with it, when he first came to me looking for some tech. It was a down payment. But, since I’m not in that business anymore, well.”

  Kyle shook his head and turned the ring over between his fingers. “The sad thing is, I never even missed it. I mean, not that any normal person would miss a piece of their dead wife’s jewelry. But then, for a long time, I was not exactly normal. I used to frequently pull it out of a drawer and stare at it, slip it onto my little finger, read the inscription over and over. But the last few months, I haven’t even thought about it once.”

  Ezra swallowed hard as he recalled how he’d done the same thing with his own wife’s ring for the first few months after she was gone.

  “Your wife – how did she die?” asked Ezra.

  “She was taken by a virus. They called it Violator. It was so fast, and always lethal.” He took a ragged breath. “I’ll never forget how she was shivering uncontrollably the last few minutes. I held her in my arms, but there was nothing I could do.” He paused. “The virus came in through a hole in the GPS-1 patch. My hole. It was my fault.”

  �
��You can’t blame yourself, Kyle,” Ezra said genuinely. “You had no way of knowing.”

  “Yeah, that’s what everyone I knew told me. And what I tried to tell myself for the first several years. I think I finally started to believe it, too, after long enough.”

  Ezra was surprised to find himself losing the tight grip he always maintained on his cover. Had he gotten too involved this time? Or was Kyle’s story just too close to home? In a moment of clarity, or perhaps impulsiveness, he opened up to Kyle regarding his own, real personal life.

  “Kyle, I have to tell you something else I’ve never told you before. I had a wife. And a son. They were killed. Only, I never blamed myself. I blamed all the fools who refused to get Files installed. They were hit by a driver who was too busy looking at a map to pay attention to the road. If the idiot had only used a File with GPS interface – your invention – Celeste and Jake would be alive today. I have no idea how differently my life would’ve turned out had they lived.”

  Ezra could see that Kyle was dumbfounded by the irony. His contribution to File technology had been the cause of his own wife’s death, but could’ve saved Ezra’s wife’s life, had it been employed.

  “How long were you married?”

  Ezra surreptitiously wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye. “Almost eight years. After that, I quit the Marines and made a lot of changes in my life.” That much was true. What he didn’t say was that one of those changes involved joining the BCC in a personal quest to get everyone a File. It was Ezra’s way of dealing with his family’s death. Somehow, if he could just prevent someone else from having to suffer that same fate, he could feel like he had a reason to live.

  A knock came at the door, and Kyle rose to answer it. A few minutes later, he returned, sullen.

  “What is it?” asked Ezra.

  “We’ve got a problem. A big problem. That was word from our southern states runner. He carried a message from Houston, and another from Pensacola. Both cells suffered raids in the last two weeks. Ezra, those were our last two chances for an active File. No other cells have one we can use. Without a File for our portion of the operation, it won’t work.”

  “Because an active File is required for uploading the maggot.”

  “Exactly,” Kyle said, flopping down into his chair in frustration. Then he was hit with inspiration. “Ezra! Do you still have access to any of the, er, resources that you used to, in your previous life as a File dealer?”

  “What do you have in mind, Kyle?”

  “Devin. He has an inactive File in is head. Maybe there’s some way you could . . .”

  “There might be a way,” finished Ezra. He raised his finger to his pursed lips as he thought about it. “I may be able to resurrect some old contacts, make it happen.”

  “You’ve got one hour. Once Devin’s File is activated, I’ll need to configure its commlink to carry the maggot safely. If I don’t do it right, it could be very dangerous for Devin, because although it’s safe once propagated, it is some very potent code to be storing in a File.”

  “I better get moving,” said Ezra. “An hour is not much time.”

  ۞

  Ezra pulled over to the shoulder on eastbound Interstate-80 and darkened his windows. The morning sun still cut through the windshield, so he put on his dark shades. He was about to contact Irving Butler, but hesitated. Although he was duty-bound to the BCC, his heart was not in this fight the way it used to be. He was becoming more and more reluctant to go on, but he knew it was what he had to do – it was what he had taken an oath to do. Ever since his days as a hi-tech combat specialist in the Marines, he had learned to take oaths very seriously.

  But maybe he was on the wrong side of this battle – maybe he’d taken an oath to the wrong people. A quick records search of secure BCC files revealed that the Violator, the virus that had killed Kyle’s wife, had been released by a small terrorist faction of the Underground. But Kyle and his cell were not terrorists. There was a time when Ezra painted all Undergrounders with the same brush – he counted them all as subversives and criminals and terrorists. But Kyle and his people were not the people Ezra had been fighting over the years, and they weren’t ignorant Ludds who didn’t understand what they were missing by denying themselves a File. They understood exactly what they were missing – a sort of enslavement to technology, and a danger from deadly viruses. More than that, they understood that living in freedom meant having a choice as to how to live their day-to-day lives. If they wanted to buy, sell, invest, travel, communicate, vote or be educated; they shouldn’t have to do it on the government’s draconian terms.

  And maybe this crusade to get everyone a File was not what Celeste would’ve wanted. Maybe if people had not become so dependent on the File, things would’ve worked out differently for them.

  Ezra was getting sick of all the maybes in his head. Feeling angry and unsettled, he opened a comm to Butler.

  “This is Butler.”

  “Hendricks here.”

  “I haven’t heard from you in over three weeks, Agent Hendricks! I was starting to wonder if you were going to fulfill this assignment at all. I’m sure you remember my wife Evelyn, the governor of Massachusetts?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Well, she’s about to announce – tonight - that she’s running for president of the United States on the New Whig ticket. If you don’t put an end to the Underground today, I’m sending in the Guard and we’ll take care of it the old fashioned way. Her campaign is centered on the slogan ‘A File in every head.’ Do not make a liar out of my wife, Hendricks.”

  “I have no such intention, Sir. And congratulations on her pending candidacy. Sir, I am contacting you because today is in fact the day that it will all come to an end. But I need you to pull a couple strings for me.”

  “Excellent! What do you need?”

  “I need a certain File activated and given clear access. I’m transmitting the File’s serial number on channel two as we speak. If all goes well today, Sir, the Underground as we know it will cease to exist before the sun goes down.”

  “Hendricks, I knew I could count on you. Consider your request granted. I look forward to hearing from you later today. Butler out.”

  ۞

  With Devin’s File active, and set up with a clean account, Kyle got to work on configuring it for transmitting the maggot.

  “Alright, we should be good to go,” said Kyle.

  “Dad, there’s just one problem. What if I don’t want to do this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe I don’t want to bring down the NI. Did you ever stop to consider that?”

  “Well, no. I don’t suppose I had thought of that,” said Kyle.

  “Now I’ve got what I’ve been waiting for all this time. Ezra has finally come through on his deal with me. Why would I now destroy the very thing I’ve been trying to get?”

  Kyle’s fists balled in frustration. “Because I thought I taught you better than that! I thought I brought you up to know it’s more important to think of others than yourself!”

  “Well, maybe that’s part of the problem, Dad. You’ve spent all these years, all your efforts, thinking of other people. Other people, Dad. Not me, not Mikayla. All you care about is your crusade to free humanity from the File – but I don’t share that vision. I want to be a part of the world that exists now, not the backward world you’re trying to bring about. I want to go out and make a place for myself. And now that I’ve got my File, and the NI account access, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  “You’re not serious! Do you realize how many other people are depending on you right now? How much has been sacrificed to make today’s operation possible?” Kyle had never struck his children, but for the first time, he felt like he could back-hand Devin.

  Ezra stepped in and took Kyle aside, speaking in a whisper. “Kyle, wait. Just let him go. If he wants to c
hoose a different path, he’ll love you and respect you more – maybe even return on his own one day - if you don’t stand in his way now. If you push the issue, if you choose to fight this battle, you may make an enemy of your own son forever. And what would your success with this operation mean if you failed in your own family?”

  “But what are we going to do? He’s our only hope to make this work.”

  “Trust me. I have a plan.”

  Kyle stared into Ezra’s eyes for a moment, then turned to his son and breathed a heavy sigh. “Alright Devin. If that’s what you really want, then go ahead. Go ahead and leave.” He paused as Devin looked back at him in bewilderment. “And son, know that you will always be welcome back here. This is your home. And I don’t care about the cell rules – you can come back, even after you’ve gone online.”

  Devin looked down, a mixture of shame, excitement, and admiration playing on his features. Then he rushed into his father’s arms. “Thank you, Dad. I love you.”

  “I love you too, son.” He shook his hand, man to man, and Devin left to go say goodbye to his sister.

  “Now what?” Kyle asked Ezra. “What’s your big plan?”

  “You’re not going to like some of what I have to say. Actually, you’re not going to like most of what I have to say.”

  “Just tell me the operation is going to work,” said Kyle.

  “It will work. You just may not want to talk to me again after it’s all said and done.”

  ۞

  “He’s what?” said Sascha.

  “He’s BCC. Well – ex-BCC, now,” said Kyle.

  “I knew there was something wrong with him.”

  “But he’s no longer working for them,” said Kyle.

  “Are you sure you can trust him? I mean, he’s been lying to us this whole time! Kyle, we’ve had the enemy among us for months now. Who knows how he’s compromised us? For all we know, he’s planning to sabotage the operation, not help us.”

  “I know it’s hard to believe. No BCC agent has ever turned before. But I do trust Ezra. He’s been honest with me about why he’s doing this. I could tell by the way he talked about his wife, about how he’s come to understand our point of view - how it has become his point of view, now.”

  “Kyle, he knows your history. Isn’t it possible he isn’t really a widower at all – that he’s just using that as part of his cover, to get under your skin?”

  “No. Of all people, I’d know if someone was lying about something like that. Ezra and I are more alike than you realize. We just went in different directions when we lost our wives. If circumstances had been just a little different, it could have ended up being the other way around – me the BCC agent and him the cell leader. In the end, though, our paths have crossed here and now. We are on the same side now.”

  “Alright, Kyle. If you believe him, then I will, too.”

  “It’s not just that,” said Kyle. “We don’t have much choice but to trust him. Without his File, this operation doesn’t stand a chance.”

  ۞

  “Alright, Ezra,” said Kyle. “I’m done configuring your File. It took a little extra work. That is one piece of very advanced technology you’ve got in your head.”

  “Top of the line military hardware, enhanced with top of the line BCC software. They only give us the very best, you know,” said Ezra.

  “Well, if all goes well, it’ll be not much more than a little lump of silicon at the base of your skull in just a couple of hours.”

  “And I’ll be just like everyone else. I think it’ll be a refreshing change.”

  “Now, the timing is essential on this. You have to activate the maggot at exactly twelve noon. All the other cells are coordinated. They’ll be following our lead. As soon as you open a hole in the security of the Intermountain server, and introduce the maggot, all of the other cells will release their own copy during the eight-millisecond fluctuation in the North American grid. Six minutes later, the NI will come to a permanent standstill.”

  “Well, we’ve got over an hour and a half left. What do you want to -”

  The front door blew into the house as if a tornado had ripped through the front yard. Shards of splintered doorframe flew through the hallway in a cloud of dust. The shockwave threw Ezra and Kyle to the floor.

  “It’s the BCC Guard!” yelled Kyle through the ringing in his ears. “You sold us out! You son of a -”

  “It wasn’t me!” yelled Ezra, as they crawled behind Kyle’s heavy oak desk and sat with their backs against it. “I swear it wasn’t me. I never ordered this assault. And I know my former boss wouldn’t have ordered it, because the last thing I told him was that I was shutting you down. Well, at least, I implied it.”

  “Then who? Who could’ve given up our location?” asked Kyle.

  “It was me, Mr. White,” said a female voice from the doorway. “Why don’t you just make this easy on all of us, and come out without a struggle.”

  “Sascha? I can’t believe it!”

  “Actually, my real name is Colonel Alyssa James. I’m a commander in Irving Butler’s private regiment of the BCC Guard.”

  “You’re BCC?” said Ezra. “You’re in Butler’s ETF?”

  “The Elite Task Force does more than just military operations, Hendricks. We also do covert ops. I’ve been watching you since before you ever came to this cell. Butler thought you might be starting to falter. He was right.”

  “But you’ve had your File removed,” said Kyle. “Was that story about the doctor in L.A. just one of your lies?”

  “Of course not. The File removal was part of building my cover. Of course, I had an upgrade installed afterward, and of course, Doctor Matheson is in custody. He won’t be removing any more Files. Now come on. It’s over. Come on out of there and nobody has to get hurt.”

  Ezra provided his answer by leaping over the desk in a spiraling dive, emptying an entire clip from his hand weapon before hitting the ground. Every shot took down an ETF soldier, each bullet striking its target square between the eyes with super-human accuracy. The only one he didn’t hit was James - she had managed to disappear somewhere into the house.

  “Where’d you get that gun?” asked Kyle, overwhelmed by the number of surprises being thrown at him.

  “I always carry it. It’s made of a composite that your security checkpoint never catches. Sorry.”

  “Um, no problem,” said Kyle.

  “Stay here,” said Ezra, creeping stealthily out of the study.

  The dust from the initial front door explosion had settled, and the house was eerily quiet in the aftermath of the ETF assault. Ezra stepped over the body of a dead ETF soldier, then glanced up the stairwell. He listened carefully, and heard the faint sound of an ETF Talon helicopter in whisper mode, lifting off the roof.

  “Kyle!” he yelled. “Where’s your daughter?”

  Kyle came running. “She was upstairs.”

  “They’ve taken her.”

  ۞

  Ezra cut his File connection and looked at Kyle.

  “Mikayla is at a secure ETF location. Butler says we have two choices. We both turn ourselves in, and Mikayla will be released unharmed.”

  “Or?”

  “Or he’ll make her disappear.”

  “Tell him he can have me, but that his fight with you is none of my business.”

  “I already did. He says it’s a package deal or no deal.”

  “How much time do we have left?”

  “He knows about the operation, Kyle. They haven’t time to devise any counter measures, so he’s giving us a deadline of five minutes to noon. That’s fifteen minutes from now.”

  “I do have one more trick up my sleeve,” said Kyle. “When I first joined the Underground, I met some shady people. They talked me into writing some code – some malicious code. I was still angry, still finding my way, and I agreed. When I was done writing it, I decided it wasn’
t right, and I left their group to join the cell I’m in now. I’ve never deployed that code, because I don’t believe in those tactics. But I do still have it saved on my hard drive.”

  “What does it do?”

  “Can you send a comm to Butler with a simultaneous secondary channel?

  “I used to do it all the time to upload data to him while talking to him.”

  “Then you’ll see what my code can do.”

  “How long will it take you to prepare?”

  “Five minutes.”

  Kyle entered a password on his computer and pulled up a file. “You just need to configure your reception port to receive a data stream from my computer. The code, as packaged, will not harm you. But once it is sent from your File to Butler’s, it will be triggered.”

  Ezra made the necessary adjustments to his File by thinking the commands. He nodded that he was ready, and Kyle sent the code package to Ezra.

  “Alright, Ezra. We’ll only have one shot at this. You need to keep Butler distracted so he won’t realize what’s happening on channel two.”

  “Don’t worry, I can handle it.”

  Ezra opened a comm link to Butler.

  “Butler, we’ve made our decision. I’ll turn myself in, though I’ll have some conditions I’ll want to discuss afterward. As for Mr. White, he has also agreed to turn himself in. He says ‘just don’t harm his daughter.’ He even says he’ll make available to you all of his programming files. In fact, I’m sending you a sample now, on channel two. And there’s a lot more where that came from.”

  Before Butler could even answer, Ezra could hear through the comm link an agonized yell, followed by silence.

  “What happened?” he asked Kyle.

  “The code you sent caused a cascade failure of Butler’s File subprocessor. The feedback created fused the main processor to his brain stem, and there was probably a small explosion inside his skull. Butler is either vegetative, comatose, or dead.”

  “Good.” Ezra felt nothing for the loss of his boss. “Now we’ve bought ourselves some time. Without Butler in charge to give the orders, the ETFs holding Mikayla will not act against her.”

  “Exactly. And in ten minutes, things are going to get very interesting for the ETFs.”

  “They sure will,” said Ezra. “They’ll be running around like chickens with their heads cut off. They rely completely on File comm for their operations. It’ll take them a while to get their manual backup systems up and running. By then, we’ll be the least of their problems.”

  “And there’ll be no reason for them to hold Mikayla any more. And once the dust settles, if they demand a head, I’ll give them mine, as long as they let her go.”

  “Well -”

  Ezra’s breath caught in his throat and he stopped dead in his tracks. “This isn’t right. I’m getting a comm from Butler.”

  “That’s impossible,” said Kyle.

  “No, it’s Butler. He wants me to route his message through to your computer, so we can both see and hear him.”

  “Wait, let me activate the firewall and dump the storage to a bunker, so he can’t do any damage remotely through your connection. Alright, go ahead.”

  A heavyset, balding man in a three-piece suit appeared on the screen. He had a giant diamond earring in his left earlobe, and a fat cigar clenched between his teeth. He removed the cigar with his sausage-like fingers and said, “Hendricks. White,” his voice like gravel. “I can’t tell you how . . . displeased I am that you have killed my clone. I’ve had him for many years. He served me well. He will be difficult, if not impossible, to replace.”

  “Clone?” said Kyle. “Cloning was banned more than thirty years ago.”

  “For the public,” said Ezra. “But among some of us in government, rumor has had it that the most elite circles of leadership continued the practice, making backups of themselves in case of accidents, or assassinations, or in case of -”

  “In case of situations like this,” finished Butler with a snarl. “Now, you have thirty seconds to destroy the maggot, or the girl dies. And when she’s dead, I will send my ETFs after you, and they will never stop until you are dead. Oh, and we’ll also dispose of Devin. With his new File, we already know where he is, and I have a team on the way to pick him up. So, what’s it going to be?”

  Kyle glanced at the chronometer in the upper left of his computer screen. He moved his foot toward Ezra and tapped Ezra’s leg. “When does the thirty seconds start?” asked Kyle.

  “Now!” boomed Butler.

  At that moment, Ezra introduced the maggot to the comm stream on channel two. The clock read 11:59:58.

  “Alright,” said Kyle, stalling for the six minutes needed for the maggot to take effect. “What if I send you the maggot, inactivated, and let you destroy it, then you’ll have proof that it is gone.”

  “That is acceptable. But I will hold your daughter until I have confirmation that the maggot has been decompiled.”

  “Okay,” said Kyle. “It’ll take me five minutes to upload the maggot to an insulated comm signal that Ezra can safely transmit to you. As it is right now, it’s configured to activate as soon as it hits the NI. I need a few minutes to restore the safety protocols. And we’ll need to know the destination.”

  “Send it to BCC Primary Virtual Lab, Hendricks,” said Butler. “You know the NI address.”

  Kyle began working his computer, doing exactly what he said he was going to do. Only he was doing it to a copy of the maggot. The maggot itself was already streaming through the NI at the speed of light, sliding under firewalls, jumping over server dams, circumventing stormbunkers and filtering through security protocols. In another two minutes, the NI would cease to exist. Butler would be cut off from his ETF soldiers, unable to issue any commands.

  “Alright,” said Kyle at last. “It’s ready. You can scan it through the comm link before we send it if you like, to make sure it really is safe and secure.”

  “Even though your daughter’s life is on the line, I will scan it,” said Butler. “I know that you people can be fanatical.”

  After a thirty second scan, Butler confirmed the maggot was safe for transmission.

  “I took the liberty of scanning your hard drive, too,” said Butler. “Just to make sure you weren’t harboring any copies. Surprisingly, it was clean. It also showed no record of any copies having been transferred to mobile devices. Now, send it.”

  The record of having transferred the original maggot to Ezra was sitting safely in the hard drive’s invisible bunker. With a few keystrokes, the inert copy was transferred to Ezra, who immediately sent it on to the BCC lab.

  “Alright, you’ve got it,” said Kyle. “Now, release my daughter.”

  “Not until I’ve received confirmation from the lab that the maggot has been destroyed.’

  Kyle started to sweat. In less than a minute, the NI would be terminated, and Butler would neither be able to receive confirmation, nor relay the command to release Mikayla.

  And then it happened.

  The first indication was a temporary disruption of the power grid – a disturbance that hadn’t happened since the quake of ’64. Then Ezra grabbed his head and doubled over.

  “You alright?” said Kyle.

  “Yeah,” said Ezra. “Just felt like someone took a hammer to the back of my skull for a second there, but other than that, I’m fine.”

  “Well? Are you getting any signals?”

  “Nothing. It’s so . . . quiet. I had forgotten that I had my tunes playing underneath everything. Now it’s just silent. I’ve got no connection. Can you check to see if it’s just me?”

  “Yeah, I can run some ping tests from my computer to verify the NI is down. Hold on.”

  Kyle ran three different diagnostics. “It’s gone, Ezra. The NI is gone. I routed a signal to the Intermountain server, and the ping report shows all North American subservers are down. The global master
servers are also down. And they are fried. They won’t be coming back up.”

  “Then why aren’t you smiling?”

  “I’ll smile when I see my kids again.”

  “Then let’s go get them.”

  ۞

  Ezra had run some scans on a subchannel while he was comming with Butler, and obtained three subchannel codes from Butler’s auxiliary carrier. One was in contact with his home, one was connected to his bank, and the other was in touch with an ETF unit stationed in the Provo Canyon. That had to be where Mikayla was being held.

  Ezra and Kyle followed the lead to the ETF stronghold as fast as Ezra’s ground transport could carry them. As they approached, the usual calm of the station had been replaced by organized chaos. ETF soldiers were scrambling all over, attempting to set up antiquated communication devices that had been in storage for years.

  “It will be a relatively simple matter for me to slip in, incapacitate the guards outside Mikayla’s holding cell, and spirit her away to safety,” said Ezra as they crouched and peered through the chain link fence around the compound.

  “No way,” said Kyle. “I’m going in with you.”

  “Kyle, I’ve spent my life running these kinds of operations. I’m a fighter. Let me do the dirty work. This is no place for a techie. Trust me, I’ll bring her back safely.”

  “Forget about it,” said Kyle. “There’s no way I can just sit out here while you go in there alone. Who knows, maybe my skills will come in handy.”

  “Fine, but I’ll take point. And here, take this,” he said, handing Kyle a tiny hand weapon. “It’s a low-energy gamma pistol. Just aim in the general direction and press the red button.”

  “Another one of the toys you’ve been carrying this whole time?”

  Ezra just shrugged and said, “C’mon.”

  They climbed a tree that allowed them to drop over the fence into the compound, and headed to the back of the main building. They found a quiet back door with no guard, just a security panel.

  “Alright, then, Kyle, here’s that chance to be useful that you were just talking about. Go ahead and do your magic.”

  Kyle attempted to break the code using three different crypto-sequences, but access was denied. He pulled out his hand weapon, set the power level to the lowest setting, and fired it at the panel.

  “I could’ve done that,” said Ezra.

  Kyle just raised a finger as if to say, “wait.”

  As he continued to fire the weapon, the surface of the panel started to glow. Then he stopped firing and tried the last crypto-sequence again, burning his fingertips as he hit the keys. This time, it worked.

  “What did you just do?” asked Ezra.

  “The first two crypto-sequences helped me determine that it was a Series-Seven BCC mechanism, which uses a server-based system to push out a constantly randomized access code. Neuralinx was contracted to the BCC to produce these. In fact, I used to run QA of assembly lines for these things back when I was a Neuralinx grunt. Anyway, the low-level gamma radiation temporarily disabled the panel’s connection to the building’s server, allowing me to break the code with the final crypto-sequence. Simple, really.”

  They entered the building, Ezra on point. He quickly neutralized a guard in the first hallway while Kyle tapped into a wall terminal to obtain a building schematic.

  “The holding cells are directly below us,” said Kyle.

  They made their way downstairs and found Mikayla’s cell. Ezra took out three more guards with his bare hands, and Kyle rushed into the cell to embrace his baby.

  “Dad!”

  “C’mon, we have to get out of here now,” said Ezra to the hugging pair. “One of those guards sent a distress signal to the base commander before I could stop him.”

  The three of them fled back the way they came, and burst out the back door of the facility. They came to the chain link fence and stopped. Ezra grabbed the gamma weapon from Kyle, set it to full power, and dissolved a circular area of the fence large enough for them to escape through. They jumped into their ground vehicle and disappeared down the canyon road. They were not pursued.

  When they returned home, Devin was waiting on the front porch.

  “Looks like Butler was bluffing about abducting your son,” said Ezra.

  “Looks like you’re right,” Kyle said, this time providing the smile Ezra had been waiting for previously.

  Ezra felt a pang in his heart as he watched father and son reunited. He put a hand on Kyle’s shoulder.

  “I have to go now.”

  “Where?”

  “I have some unfinished business to take care of.”

  ۞

  Former BCC Agent Ezra Hendricks had two stops to make. First, Washington D.C. As he entered the District, he saw the immediate aftermath of the fall of the NI. Some minor rioting had erupted, but it was quickly put down by the local peace forces. Some people were wandering around, as if in a daze, looking lost. But surprisingly, many others were celebrating.

  Amid the subdued confusion, Ezra made his way to the Gates building, headquarters of the BCC. With the NI down, he easily made it past security by flashing his hardcopy BCC credentials. Once inside, he moved determinedly toward Butler’s office.

  On the sixth floor, he strode down the empty corridor toward the glass door at the end. No one stood guard. The whole floor seemed lifeless. A moment before he got to the door, a projectile whistled past his head and the glass shattered a split second later. He hit the floor and rolled to the side of the hallway, weapon drawn and pointed back the way he’d come. A voice came through the public address system.

  “You’re so predictable, Agent Hendricks.”

  “Actually, it’s you who’s predictable, Colonel James,” Ezra yelled. “I knew if I came here to tie up loose ends with Butler, that you wouldn’t be far behind. All you’ve done is save me a trip to ETF headquarters.”

  “You’ll be coming to ETF headquarters, alright. For your autopsy.”

  A shower of bullets rained down the hallway, riddling the wall behind Ezra with holes. Plaster crumbs flew everywhere. Ezra pulled a small device from his inside pocket, activated it, and threw it down the hall. At first, a thick smokescreen emerged, filling the space between James and Hendricks. He scrambled to his feet, dove through the shattered door to Butler’s office, then pushed a button on his remote, activating the explosive charge component of the device. The floor rocked with the power of the blast.

  Ezra took the time he’d bought to make a quick visual scan of the office. It seemed empty. He pulled out a handheld computer and scanned for heat signatures. On the device’s display, the red silhouette of a man was clearly showing inside a hidden closet in Butler’s office.

  Ezra busted through the wall, grabbed Butler by the neck, and dragged him to the main office door. With his gun to Butler’s temple, he yelled, “Come out where I can see you, James. I’ve got your boss. You don’t want to do anything stupid.”

  James stepped out into view from a recessed doorway halfway down the hall. She put her hands up to show she’d dropped her weapon. “Okay, Hendricks, you got us. Now what are you going to do?”

  “Yes,” barked Butler. “What is it you want from us?”

  “I want a lot of things that you can’t give me,” said Ezra. “And some things that I know you won’t give me. You wanted to control the world with the Files. But you couldn’t even control me. Oh, you hold a lot of power and influence and can pull a lot of strings. Your puppets in Congress passed the File Commerce Act, and you hold majority stock in Neuralinx. Your little plan to enslave the world has failed, and now everyone is free. Everyone but me, that is. You see, even with the NI down, I’ll never have peace. Not as long as you intend to hunt me down. So I want some guarantees from you. I want my freedom. Do we have a deal, or -”

  Before Ezra could finish, James dropped to the floor with lightning speed. A tiny pistol made its wa
y to her hand from a hidden mechanism up her sleeve, and she fired.

  As Ezra saw her dropping, he instinctively moved Butler a little more in front of him. Butler was hit in the neck. As he dropped, Ezra dropped with him, trying to stay behind the rotund man for protection from the additional shots James was firing.

  One precise shot from Ezra ended it. James lay in a pool of blood. Ezra crawled out from under the heavy, lifeless body of Irving Butler. He staggered through the debris in the hall toward the elevator, until he heard security personnel charging up the stairs next to the elevator. He quickly turned and headed back into Butler’s office. He knew the BCC head maintained a secret escape stairway somewhere. He easily located it by scanning the walls, stepped through, clambered down the dark stairwell and out of the building into a back alley. He quickly disappeared into the city, and didn’t look back.

  His second stop was to a small country cemetery a few miles outside of Medford, Oregon. He climbed the grassy hill and located a pair of lonely headstones, surrounded on three sides by lilacs. He stooped to lay some yellow flowers on the larger grave, then decided to just sit down in the soft grass.

  “Hello, Celeste. Hi, Jakey. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve come to see you. I’ve made some changes in my life. And there’ve been some major changes in the world. I’ve made some friends.” He laughed to himself. “Imagine that, me with friends. And the friends I’ve made are people I used to consider anti-social menaces. Ha! Anyway, I’ve decided to start writing a journal. An actual pen-and-paper journal. And I’m going to take up gardening again – you know, like I used to do in our first home together. And I’ve decided to move to Utah, where my new friends live.”

  He dug in his pocket and pulled out Celeste’s wedding band. It had been in storage for years. He read the inscription one last time: Heart to heart, never to part. Then he placed it on her grave and enjoyed the sunshine on his face for a while before walking back down the hill.

  ۞

  Kyle White closed his leather-bound journal and tucked the pen in the gap between the outer binding and the spine. He looked out the window of his new Heber City home and smiled to himself. It was nice to sit in his study with the shades open. Just one more of the freedoms he was enjoying now that he no longer had to live as a fugitive.

  Today would’ve been Kyle and Lauren’s twenty-first wedding anniversary. It had taken a long time, but Kyle was now ready to move on. A new world emerging, and a new way of life for Kyle, made it feel like all kinds of doors were opening – even the door to that very private place in his heart he had reserved for the love of a woman.

  In the past several months since the NI came down, people were waking up from their File-induced enslavement, and realizing that the destruction of the NI was for the best. Freedom had returned to the citizens. The Undergrounds had disbanded and come out of the shadows. And even Devin recognized that he was better off without the File.

  For the first time in seventeen years, Kyle felt truly at peace, and felt like he could finally let go and move on with his life. He took Lauren’s ring out of a drawer and read the inscription one last time: Love transcends all.

  A knock came at the front door. Kyle put the ring away and stepped out of his study to the entry. He opened the door to see a daylight nightmare. Beneath the scars and horrible disfigurement, he could make out the face of Colonel James. And she had a gun pointed directly at his head.

  “White, I told you last time to come without a struggle. This time I -”

  A bullet zipped past Kyle’s shoulder and struck James between the eyes. Her body was forced off the ground and flew to the bottom of the front steps, landing in a mangled heap. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Kyle turned to see his daughter trembling on the stairs behind him.

  “I warned you about her, Dad,” said Mikayla, dropping the smoking rifle clattering to the floor and rushing into her father’s arms.

  THE END

  Pause

  Writers of the Future Honorable Mention, December 2007

  * * * *

 

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