by G. R. Carter
Now what am I going to do?
He spotted a fire extinguisher hanging on the wall near the doorway. A full-sized one required by California law, making the metal canister and contents weigh nearly thirty pounds. Rowan grabbed it off the wall and heaved it with all the might of a small man suffering muscle atrophy from years sitting in front of a screen. Just a small crack appeared, but now adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He began to swing wildly until the window shattered in a pile. Impact caused the canister to begin to discharge the white powder contents, filling the room and choking Rowan as he stumbled through the opening and tripped over the motionless security drone. Safety glass scraped at his skin, not causing serious cuts but adding to his feeling of desperation.
Rowan was a Master of the Universe, controlling companies with budgets bigger than most countries. And the countries that were bigger still had leadership that answered his calls. In the space of a few minutes, he was a scared little man with no one to rescue him and no way out. He screamed for help, running down the vast corridor. Through stinging eyes, he could see someone standing there. One of his employees!
Why were they there? Working late? On what, and why without my knowledge?
He made out the face in the dim emergency lights and recognized the young woman immediately.
Angela, right? “Face like an angel,” he had joked to his colleagues. A face so angelic, she appeared in some programs in his HoloRoom.
Wait, was that really the HoloRoom? Or was it real?
The virtual and the physical world blurred for him recently. He wasn’t really sure anymore where he was from day to day. The thought struck him this disaster might be simulation. Perhaps he’d been running some sort of test…
He’d become ingrained with his Profile as Grapevine gained more power. Somehow, they were merging. His brain created the whole Grapevine system and she allowed him to expand his consciousness throughout the virtual and tangible world. Tonight’s rift in their relationship left him feeling dazed and out of sync.
Her natural beauty went dark with fury. “You moron, what did you do?” she demanded.
Rowan was lost at the accusation. “It wasn’t me, Grapevine went crazy and glitched. She tried to use the killswitch, I had to shut her down,” he explained, grasping justification for his actions. “Let’s go get the auxiliary power supply turned on. Together we can patch this up before too much damage is done.”
Angela snickered at the absurdity of his rant. “You sound like you’re on 'Star Trek,' Rowan. There is no auxiliary power and Grapevine is gone. You’ve ruined it all!”
“What are you talking about, you idiot?!” Rowan screamed, “I invented the idea! Me! Without my brainpower, Continuity or Grapevine wouldn’t exist and you’d be programming kids' games. I gave you all a chance to work on something brilliant and important! We were making history!”
Rowan’s mouth hung wide open. Sabotaged by my own people! All in the name of a faith he created! So it wasn’t that CarbonSoft idiot who had caused this; strangely, that gave Rowan a sense of relief. He knew there was no way he could be outsmarted by that old typewriter salesman. He considered bragging to her what he did to CarbonSoft’s network, but stopped. If she was so smart, she could figure it out on her own.
Angela studied her boss, her former boss, for a moment. “We’ve stored enough supplies to last the Fruit of the Valley for three years. We were going to seal the doors and not reemerge until Continuity brought The Awakening. With Grapevine’s help, we could have rebuilt the world the way it was intended. Just enough of us to maintain the Profiles, but not to overload Mother Earth or Grapevine.”
Rowan exploded, “You’re freakin’ insane! Don’t you understand that those barbarians you’re trying to get rid of will be running through these hallways in days or at most weeks? Without network access, there’s no way for anyone to get any food or water or supplies. Everything is connected now. No one keeps food or water around. It shows up on the shelves the day it gets bought. Looters will come after us when that’s gone. And if they don’t find food, they’ll probably eat you!”
“No, Rowan, they would have never found me. But you’re right, our emergency batteries in the shelter will only last a week or so. Continuity will help us survive after that.”
Rowan marveled at Angela’s sincerity. His eyes were finally clearing, the pain of stinging scratches forcing mental clarity. A plan was forming in his mind. An opening to escape the trap he was in.
“Angela, I see the point now. You are right and I overreacted. Of course, I had become misled by the tasks at hand. I wandered away from Continuity. I can see now that true meditation until The Awakening will be the key to my Profile. I look forward to staying with you, and we can discuss how to rebuild this world the right way.”
She smiled tenderly as she sighed. “Unfortunately, I see once again that brilliant mind of yours is working on angles and plans and schemes. You’re not trying to improve, you’re trying to survive. After all this time, you still don’t get it.” Angela turned to walk towards the staircase.
“Angela, where do you think you’re going? Do you think you’re just going to leave me here while you go hide out in your bunker?”
“Rowan, you said yourself that meditation was the only way for you to get back to Continuity. Well, you’re going to have some time to work on it. We’ll be watching, and when we feel you’ve reached that point where you can be trusted, we’ll come and get you. But Rowan, I must tell you something painful. If you don’t progress, not only will you not be allowed into our home, but we’ll also be forced to wipe your Profile.”
Angela assumed that would shake Rowan to his core. Instead, he flew into a rage.
“How dare you?! Don’t you know who I am? What I can do to you? I’m the one who created Grapevine, who recruited the President of the United States to Continuity! I’ll have him bomb this place to shreds, you brainwashed morons!”
Rowan lunged at Angela, never seeing the two figures behind him. He felt a sudden jolt and sharp pain in the back of his head before he could get close enough to strike. Consciousness faded as the face of the angel above him dimmed from view.
Old Main College
Just Before the Great Reset
Five minutes until the Grapevine chat session, Dr. Timothy Maxwell thought, quickly stepping down the hallway towards his office. This was supposed to be a big one, with new information about the plans of the Owls. More importantly, he was going to find out what his next steps were in dealing with this Stone Age fanatic college president he was stuck serving under. She was the last obstacle to him getting out of this backwater and into one of the capitals where he belonged. His brilliance was wasted here; Grapevine needed him where the action was. But supposedly ex–Senator Julia Ruff, who served as president here at Old Main College, still held some important role in opposing the mission of Grapevine.
Maxwell just had to last another few months, and he was promised a research post to continue his work helping Luna mine for rare earth materials. No more idiot bourgeois kids pretending they were at college to learn instead of to master drunken debauchery. He could finally get to the city, where there was a lot more going on for a man of his tastes. Small towns weren’t particularly inviting to men like him; he smiled slightly at the thought of all those new coeds to pick from.
Approaching his cracker box office, Maxwell noticed the hallway lights beginning to flicker intermittently. The flickering became more intense, and then, just like that, nothing. He reached around the doorway into the office and flicked the switch to turn on the overhead LED. Still nothing. He flipped again, and again, and again. Stupid old relics! Imagine this dump calling itself an institute of higher learning!
Maxwell swiped the screen of his new SmartWatch to call facilities; they would get a piece of his mind. As he pressed the talk button, though, there was no response. He knew it was charged, but the screen remained blank. It was dark as night in the office, with just the faint glow fr
om the emergency exit to keep it from being completely devoid of light.
I’m going to be late for the meeting. What will happen to my post? I have to get out of here!
The room was getting stuffy; the whir of the circulation system was gone with no fresh air being circulated. Maxwell thought of a solution: he would go home to that sorry excuse of an apartment he rented a few blocks from here. He seldom even stopped there, just once every few days for a change of clothes and a shower. Otherwise, he spent all of his time here. The Wi–Fi at his apartment was in a sorry state, but he had no choice, he had to get onto that chat session.
He moved as quickly as his lumpy frame would allow. Shuffling across the dark tile toward the exit door, he fumbled for his swipe badge. Maxwell led the faculty senate in pushing that all the doors be secured with coded identification. He convinced them the extra measures provided a safe zone against the rampant school shootings replayed constantly on NewsWatch. In reality, Maxwell wanted to make sure that no one was snooping through his office. His work for Grapevine was too important to be discovered or interfered with. Only a select group possessed badges for access to this floor.
He located the security screen and flashed his badge in front. Nothing.
Again. Nothing. Again. Nothing!
Panic gripped him as he began to scream for help. More panic as he realized the time. Two a.m. meant there would be no one around in the entire building. Even the cleaning and maintenance crews were instructed to stay away from this area overnight, Maxwell had insisted on that also. Almost every night found him working on something (or someone) up here and he didn’t care to be interrupted.
What was he going to miss on the chat? Would he be kicked out if they thought he had been compromised? What would happen to his Profile?
He was sobbing as he slid down the wall until his plump behind finally hit the cool tile. Glancing at the door that had become his prison gate, he wondered if he was going to die. He was trapped, with no food, no water, and missing the most important meeting of his life. Hyperventilating and panic-stricken, Maxwell curled into a ball on the floor and passed out just below the door’s emergency manual release switch.
People’s Hall – Federal DC
The Day of the Great Reset
“Every west coast shelter, completely offline! Even the Pacific Islands!”
Pina had never seen Elias Marburg so angry. Anything not attached to a desk or a shelf impacted the wall or floor. His fists clenched.
“I was going to shelter there, remember? What if you hadn’t changed my mind? I’d be a dead man. If I ever get my hands on Sayam, I’ll kill him.”
“Chances are you won’t be able to. I can’t imagine anyone on the west coast surviving long without the shelters being fully operational.”
Marburg shot a death glare at her. She shrank from the look, sorry she’d brought attention to herself.
“How could he be so stupid?” she said, trying to get his anger turned back in Rowan Sayam’s direction.
“Because he was too simple to ever comprehend the big picture. I should have just killed him, made him an example. Now he’s caused us to lose a third of our shelters on this continent.”
She decided to tell him the whole truth now. He’d find out soon enough. “It’s going to be a while before we establish contact with the rest of the world. We were able to isolate his hack before it caused permanent damage, but it’s going to take some time to restore full connectivity.”
Marburg worked to center himself, to find calm in the need for action.
“We’re leaving this place. No sense in waiting. We’ll go ahead and take up residence in Mt. Weather.”
“But we were planning on using People’s Hall as our primary shelter,” Pina argued. “We’ve spent years getting it just the way you wanted it.”
“Yeah, well, now I’ve decided I want to be in Mt. Weather. I’m feeling really exposed here in the city. I’ll take a little less comfort for a lot more safety.”
Pina tried to decide how much to argue with the still boiling Marburg. “There’s not enough capacity for everyone to move over. We were planning on using both shelters for a couple of years. At least until most of the locals, um, weren’t a problem anymore.”
Marburg shrugged. “The rest can stay here, I’m going. Get all local police to clear a path for me out of town.” In a rare moment of concern for someone else, he said to her, “You’re coming with me.”
Louis Aguilar and Thomas Reed stood stone faced and silent. The last few hours had illustrated to them just how far out of the decision making process they really were.
“Bring him,” Marburg said, pointing to Aguilar.
He couldn’t help but take out his anger on someone. “The others can take care of themselves.” He looked directly at Reed and let the sarcasm roll off his tongue. “Tell them not to worry though, we’ll be back to get them in a few years.”
Marburg made for the door, followed closely by Pina and Aguilar, who didn’t risk even a quick glance back for his supposed friend. Speaker of the House Thomas Reed stood in stunned disbelief, trying to process what had just happened to his position, his country, and more importantly, his future.
Ridgeview Hunting Lodge
Rural Brown County, Illinois
The Day of the Great Reset
“Good huntin’, mate!” Darwin King shouted as he slapped his guide on the bag. “Biggest buck ever seen, there, and no doubt!”
“You Aussies know how to shoot,” Sy Bradshaw said in amazement. “I couldn’t have made that distance myself.”
“Ah, you’re too kind,” King said with a dismissive wave and a smile.
“I’m serious, Mr. King. I’ve been working out here as a guide nearly all my life. Been huntin’ since I was a boy. I never seen a shot like that!” Bradshaw told him.
Two men and a young boy in hunters’ orange camouflage joined them out of the dense woods. Together they all made their way to where a freshly killed ten-point buck lay. “That’s just Darwin showing off again,” the older of the two men said to the guide. “He pulled off a similar shot when we were on safari in South Africa a couple of years back.”
The younger of the two agreed. “And he always bags the most birds when we hunt his ranch. Like the guy’s got a sixth sense about it.”
King was still chuckling. “Don’t believe everything you hear from Chicagoans, Sy. You oughta know that, right? Even if the Casey family is the best of the lot of ‘em.”
“You better say that, Darwin,” Benjamin Casey, Sr. said with mock arrogance. “Since my company sends you a hundred million a year in purchase orders.”
“Too right!” Darwin said. “I oughta do a better job of letting you get the big game.”
“But you’re too stinking competitive, aren’t you, Darwin?” the younger Casey said.
“JR, you’re as wise as your ol’ man. Casey Industries will be in good hands…if the old man ever retires, that is! And that young’n of yours has got the wit, too,” Darwin said, pointing to nine year old Trey, trying with all his might to keep up with the men. Sy Bradshaw’s nephew Max, just slightly younger than Trey, was there beside him too, quietly taking in the sights and the conversation.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. You need to have your own kids someday so our families can keep doing business together,” JR said.
King shook his head. “Naw, mate. No time for that. I got a business to run. Besides, customers are all the family I need.”
The whole group worked together to field dress the buck, then toted it to Sy’s ancient four-wheel drive truck a mile away. Exhausted from all the walking, Max and Trey crawled into the back of the truck bed, holding tight to a light bar per the instruction of Sy. The older foursome rode in the cab, laughing and swapping stories.
Dusk was falling as the truck pulled into the long drive leading up to their lodge. Immediately, Sy knew something was wrong.
“Wonder why the lights are all out,” he said, more t
o himself than the rest.
“Don’t worry, Sy,” Casey Sr. told him. “Remember the same thing happened a couple years back? The power lines around here are getting run-down. In fact, I think you told me it’s because all of us Chicagoans are taking the infrastructure money.”
Sy blushed a little. He nodded and said, “Yeah, which is exactly why I installed a brand-new generator as a backup. Can’t have you important city folk out here without a place to charge your laptops! Bad for business.” Irritated, he hit the steering wheel with his fist. “Man, what a bummer. It’s all computerized, ‘sposed to know the exact moment the power goes out. Starts itself on interruption, battery backup on that, too. We shouldn’t have to do a thing to get it started.”
They pulled up to the front door. Sy left the truck running so the headlights would shine inside the Great Room of the lodge. Lodge staff and guests milled about on the wraparound front porch, waiting for Sy to return.
“I’ve tried everything, boss man,” Sy’s groundskeeper yelled at him as he bounded down the front steps of the covered porch. Sy jumped out of the truck and walked right him, heading for the small shed sitting a few yards away from the main building.
King and the Caseys were close behind him. They didn’t know what to do, but they were men of action not comfortable with feeling helpless. After a few moments, Bradshaw emerged, troubled and apologetic. “I don’t get it. There’s a panel on the side with a manual override…well it’s a whole ‘nother computer system separate from the one that starts everything automatically. I just don’t get it…it’s even got the solar panel battery to back it up. The whole system’s supposed to be foolproof.”
“No worries, mate,” King told him with a smile and a shoulder slap. “We don’t mind roughin’ it a bit, right? I’ll get the fire started if you wanna get your folks together to start the barbie.”