by Shawn Keys
Megan gestured with a pot of coffee. Kyle accepted to have his mug refreshed. She spoke as she poured, “Not to mention that you and Dazz can’t just go wandering around. Once Laura and Danielle are identified as helping you, they’ll have to keep their heads down as well. All four of you will probably be arrested on sight by any mall cop or security guard that sees you. That would be an embarrassing end to all this.”
A bit of silence descended on the table. Confused looks were exchanged.
Megan glanced at them, not sure why her words has stunned them so much. “You’ve seen the news this morning, haven’t you?”
Kyle shrugged. “We had to kill our phones last night.”
Megan chuckled. “I know it seems archaic, but news comes across the television as well.” He reached over and plucked up the remote to the small television screen she kept mounted in the kitchen. She turned it on, already set to the 24-hour ‘Washington News Channel’ broadcast. She pretty much kept it set to either that or the National equivalent. Right then, she wanted local news.
The story on the screen wasn’t the one they wanted, but felt immediately relevant. An on-scene reporter was standing against a rural farm backdrop, saying, “…total of three were found dead in this incredibly unfortunately incident. Two FDPC agents came under attack while serving their compulsory and routine initial interview. The identities of the deceased are being protected until family can be contacted, but it is assumed that the farm owner, Mr. Bret Herald was one of those killed in the fire-fight. All we know about him at this time is that he was identified as being negative for Persterim effects, which is what brought the agents to his door.”
Danielle gave a soft, “Wow.” Then, shaking her head, she said, “These two agents were busy yesterday. Now we know why they didn’t show up at your door until later in the day, Kyle. So, another fertile male ends up dead on the same day they tried to kill you. What are the odds that is an accident? This doesn’t look good at all.”
Kyle hummed thoughtfully, intent on watching the stories evolving.
The next one was what Megan wanted them to see.
The network anchor picked up where the field reporter left off. “The scene on that farm was not the only drama in Lionsgate yesterday. Late into the evening, police responded to reports of a home invasion in the neighborhood of Charland.”
Dazz’s fingers clenched the armrest of her chair. “My parents! What does she mean by ‘home invasion’?”
The anchorwoman went on, “Two people were killed, identified as the owners of the house. There was no sign of force. At present, authorities are considering this woman, their daughter Debra Simmons…” A hand-drawn portrait came onto the screen, showing Dazz looking mean and uncompromising. Kyle knew she could look like that, but only at her worst. “…to be connected with the perpetrators. They stole an unknown number of valuables, and then fled the scene. Police are visiting local pawn shops looking for items that might be sold, and citizens are advised to consider her potentially armed and violent. She is known to have a history of undiagnosed mental issues.”
The screen flickered on to the next story, but Megan muted the audio. “I’m sorry, Dazz. But you really can’t go wandering around. They didn’t link Kyle on that segment, but they have already insinuated that you were also seen with an unknown male, matching Kyle’s description, who they ‘postulated may be one of the home invaders’. They’re setting you up for being the killer here, Kyle. Not right away, but they are shaping the narrative that way.”
Kyle shoved away from the table. “This is insane!”
Dazz was fuming, so angry she couldn’t even speak.
Danielle sank heavily into a seat. “What is going on? People aren’t going to believe any of this!”
Megan smiled with sympathy her way. “Yes, they will.” The others were about to object, but she took on the role of teacher once more. “This isn’t anything new. People are hungry to know, and they love gossip.”
Laura smirked. “Fake news, Ms. Clarke?”
Megan sighed. “That is such a loaded term. Just don’t forget that almost all news stations have an agenda, and they have a viewership to maintain, and they have owners. Then you add on what people get wrong. Reporters make mistakes, you know. And most people are bad witnesses. They see what they want to see. Then you add on what people deliberately lie about when reporters ask them. Finally, you have analysts who piece it all together and present it in a way that will get ratings. If they are good at their job, people tune in. People believe it because it has been crafted to be believed. This hasn’t changed throughout history. Once it was town criers passing on the message the king wanted. Newspapers only sold when the headlines caught your eye. Nothing is different now that it gets beamed into our homes directly. Read your history. You’ll see.”
Dazz growled, “But that means we’re getting handcuffed. I always thought we had the truth on our side. I thought that was our weapon, and they were racing to stop us from getting it out.”
Megan offered another smile of sympathy. “They have a much louder voice, and they’re already starting to scream with it.”
Kyle stepped in, insisting, “I still believe a whopping smash of proof can do wonders. But we need to have it first. And for that, we need to know what is going on.” He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “The entire FDPC can’t be corrupt. I mean, it was created by the government. It’s doing what they wanted it to do. They are testing for Persterim. They are enforcing the rules to mix up the gene pool enough and have more babies get born. They created these phone apps. They’ve done too much good to be totally evil.”
Danielle played the devil’s advocate, arguing the other side. “But I don’t think it could be as simple as two rogue agents out for themselves. Whoever these two are hunting you, they didn’t have time or the resources to push this message in the media so well. I mean, however twisted the message gets, reporters and police investigators do ask questions! Whatever they’re finding in your files is destroying your reputations. That doesn’t happen by accident.”
Laura added, “Not to mention that these agents should be under some sort of outside investigation after having killed those people up at the farm. Police get side-lined for a couple days after a shooting to even them out. PTSD and all that. How are these two still active?”
Megan cautioned, “Rules for the FDPC might be different… but, yes, I think these two are operating outside the normal channels.”
Kyle concluded, “Which means, we need to know how much help they have. This could be the biggest conspiracy in the history of mankind, and even the police are involved. Or it’s two rogue agents playing it fast and loose with a few of their friends. The truth is somewhere in the middle. But before we can go to anyone, we need to know where that line is drawn. Otherwise, we’ll end up dead.”
Dazz’s frustration showed. “What do we do with that?”
Kyle smiled. “We get you into a place where you can tear apart their secrets.”
Dazz shook her head. “Before you say ‘hack into them’, that’s not going to fly. Reality doesn’t work like that. I can’t raid my way into the FDPC servers! I’m not sure a whole team of hackers working together could do it without getting caught. It takes time.”
“What if you were sitting in front of one of their own computers?”
Dazz shrugged. “Would still be damned hard. Cracking passwords is no joke. They probably have facial recognition or fingerprint scanning to open their computers. But it would be nice to be past all the outer firewalls.”
Kyle nodded. “I think I have an idea on how to get around the passwords as well.” He looked around the room. “Are you all in?” He focused on his teacher most of all. “We’re already committed here, Megan. You’re the only one who is still reputable. I know you believe in what the FDPC is doing for us. You could lose your whole career.”
Megan wasn’t ignoring the weight of the decision. “Something is wrong. I’m not blind. Maybe if I
wasn’t sitting right here, seeing that Dazz hasn’t run off with home invaders… I might have bought the same propaganda right along with everyone else. But I have no idea where this is going to lead. I…” She gave them apologetic smiles. “I’m not sure I’m ready to burn out my implant quite yet.”
Kyle was quick to answer, “I’m not asking you to. In fact, being on the grid is helping keep us safe right now. Anyone who drops off becomes a suspect. You wouldn’t be safe in your own home anymore. Neither would we. Are you willing to be our base camp?”
She nodded. “Yes. As long as you promise me that you won’t ignore any proof you find. We’re not going to turn this into a conspiracy theory of our own. Whatever the evidence shows, we treat it honestly.”
They all promised, one after the other.
Kyle took a steadying breath. “Well, then. We have a plan… sort of. Laura, can you go buy a few phones we can use? Time to make a call.”
* * *
Stan Rothmire answered line 3. “Good afternoon, Lionsgate Section for the Federal Department of Population Control. How may I direct your call?”
The voice on the other line answered, “I’m Mike Rogen from Washington Telecomms Unlimited technical support. Can I be directed to your system administer or head of your technical department?”
Stan couldn’t help a smile. Most people didn’t understand that, in this small city, the FDPC was hardly a huge, faceless organization. A technical department? Umm, no. “Our system administrator is Ms. Claire Erinson. I’ll put her on the line for you.” He put the outside call on hold, then dialed the inner office. “Claire?”
“What is it, Stan?”
“Are you expecting a call from our internet providers?”
“Not especially. Did it sound urgent?”
“They didn’t say. I can get rid of them.”
Claire glanced at the stack of two prepared files on her desk. Neither of the required samples had been delivered yet. She was about to send a couple blistering emails to the two clinics who owed her the reports. Maybe Jack and Jill have a point about letting them slide. “No, no. Put them through. It’ll be a nice distraction. I’m just killing time until those samples come in.”
Stan chuckled over the line. “Go ahead. Line 3.”
Claire punched the proper button. “Ms. Erinson speaking.”
A dead line.
Claire frowned. She called Stan at the front desk. “Did they get cut off?”
Stan checked the phone switchboard. “Looks like it.”
Claire gave a soft, “Huh. Well, if it was important, they’ll call back.”
* * *
Jill sounded completely, totally reasonable as she spoke into the phone. “Our chief concern is that this ‘Dazz Simmons’ girl will lead Hutchings into a situation that will prove deadly. She’s obviously a bad influence on him. We’re still trying to sort out their past relationships. We just finished visiting with their best friends. We’re piecing together the details. That might lead us to them.”
On the other line was their direct supervisor inside the proper FDPC lines from Division HQ, Trish Sayers. She answered, “I understand your concerns. Our primary duty is to keep every fertile male alive and stable.” She sighed. “This is almost enough to make you start believing in this idiotic idea about the virus screwing up fertile male judgment.”
Jill planted another bug. Say it a hundred times, and people start to think it’s true. “Hard to argue with empirical data, Ma’am.”
Sayers retorted, “Except it doesn’t hold true in laboratory conditions. You’re up on your literature, aren’t you Niles?”
Fighting down an irritated answer, Jill said, “Of course, Ma’am.”
“Nothing in those trials indicates any degradation of mental capacity. This is all nonsense.” There was a long pause, followed by another sigh. “That doesn’t change the fact that we have another Negative making some extremely poor life choices.” Her voice shifted to one of real concern. “How are you two holding up after the Herald incident? Handling that and then walking onto the Simmons scene could mess with anyone.”
“Jack’s fine. I admit, I was a little shaken yesterday. Took a little ice cream to calm the nerves.” Jill let a little vulnerability creep in, knowing that would seem more real to her supervisor.
“Can you still work this case?”
“I’m on it, Ma’am. Trust me, I’ll bow out if it starts to wear on me.”
“Alright. Keep me apprised. I should be sending in replacements, but frankly we don’t have the people to spare.”
“We’ll hold it together, Ma’am.” She hung up the phone. “Well, glad that’s over with.”
Jack was sitting across the table at the diner. They had picked their seats in a back corner so they could make semi-private calls. He gestured with his fork at her phone. “Isn’t going to make the next call any easier.”
Jill agreed, “No sense putting it off.” She hadn’t touched her late lunch salad. Instead, she dialed a different number to a whole different supervisor.
Their regional boss answered without any diplomacy. “Status report?”
Jill got right to business. “We’ve stacked the deck against them. They won’t find support easily. We’ve also requested support from their school, their banks, and normal haunts to inform us if they show up. Part of the problem is we have no way to apply direct pressure. We’ll be moving on to that phase using their friends and parents shortly.”
“This all seems fairly typical. Why are you calling me?”
“We’re in need of manning support. Nothing much, but we want to remain mobile while having people to contain hostages. We’ve called Reynolds at the Tacoma Production Farm. He has four operatives ready for placement that he can send our way for a little experience. We just need your go-ahead to make it happen.”
There was a pause as the Boss considered the options. “Approved. Wrap this up tight.”
Jill was confident, “They’ll break down and contact their loved ones soon enough. They always do. Once that happens, it’ll only be a matter of time. We’ll drag them out of hiding, stitch up the loose ends, and put this all behind us.”
Chapter 11
Kyle hated to admit it, but there was something strangely exciting about crouching in the bushes, intent on doing something that was in no-way legal. He soothed his conscience by remembering this was for a good cause. That didn’t change the fact they were up to no good, and it was a rush.
There was also something nice about going on the offensive for a change. He was sick of being hounded like an old-time fox.
The door to the local FDPC office opened, and a moderately tall man exited. He called behind him, “You coming, Claire?”
A voice answered, though Kyle couldn’t make it out.
Whatever the other person (presumably Claire Erinson) had said, it seemed to satisfy the guy leaving. “Alright, I’ll let you lock up. Don’t forget the alarm system.” He let the door close without any further concern and walked over to his car. A minute later, he pulled out and was gone.
Kyle darted to his new phone. He hadn’t used it more than a couple times. Despite what Dazz had told them about how hard it was to hack into phones, none of them really trusted that the electronics would stay safe. He texted:
Kyle || She is alone in there. Let’s go.
He didn’t wait for an answer. Parting from the bushes, he strode purposefully for the front door.
Coming in the opposite direction was Danielle. Next to him, she was the best at doing any sort of hand-to-hand fighting from the tricks her father had shown her. Whichever way Claire turned if she came out the door, one of them should be able to cut her off.
Fortunately, she never appeared. Acting like he was merely being polite, Kyle cracked open the door and let Danielle go inside ahead of him. He entered the foyer, then tapped a quick text:
Kyle || Inside. No fuss.
Dazz || On our way.
Walking into the entryway, the
two took a quick look around the empty office. It wasn’t large, about the same size as an independent accounting office or a travel agent’s place. There were a few waiting chairs next to the reception desk, but they were bare and without any magazines or such things to help a person wait. It was clear this office wasn’t used to getting visitors.
From out of the back, a single woman walked out toward the door. She was dressed in a fetching white dress that went nearly to her knees, professional enough for work yet hemmed to accent her hourglass curves. Her brown hair flowed past her shoulders, styled to keep clear of her face yet show off how well she cared for it. While her education and bearing suggested a woman in her mid-thirties, she was a woman of means who seemed to care enough for moisturizers and sunblock to have kept her skin a few years fresher.
She was fiddling around in her purse, fishing out her keys. Her eyes came up to see Kyle and Danielle standing inside the foyer. Startled a little, she summoned a confused if friendly smile. “Oh, um, hello.”
Kyle knew they weren’t looking very hospitable. They weren’t dressed in full black or face-masks or anything so dramatic, but all of them were in loose fitting dark-blue jeans, black long-sleeved, turtle-neck shirts and wearing thin leather gloves. Dark sneakers completed the outfit, making sure they could run on demand. Laura had bought it all in a bulk buy, and while the sizes varied, it almost looked like a uniform they were wearing. The effect screamed the fact that they were not there on a social visit.
Claire did her best to be hospitable, holding out hope that her vague fears weren’t justified. “I’m afraid our office hours are ended, you two. I was just on my way out.” She took a few brusque steps toward them, as if intending to usher them out.
Before she got within a half-dozen steps of him, Kyle showed her what she was dealing with. He pulled out the 9mm Crawson-Vines pistol from his pocket and raised it. Filched from Danielle’s father’s weapon’s locker, they hadn’t needed any sort of cooling off period to get access to it. “I’m sorry, Ms. Erinson. We’re not finished talking, and we really can’t wait for tomorrow. Please don’t scream. We don’t want this to be any uglier than it has to be.” Strong words. Kyle did his best to put a little grit behind them. He reminded himself she could be helping those agents. She could be the one who ordered Dazz’s parents shot, for all he knew. That helped put some steel in his spine.