by Rob Hart
Then the Cloud News Network showed video of border crossings into Europe. Tear gas canisters arced through the air. Police in riot gear slammed into families. Refugees from cities like Dubai and Abu Dhabi and Cairo, now uninhabitable due to the temperature swings. Except, no one wanted to take them in and risk the additional strain on local resources. Too depressing.
Paxton turned it off and sipped his coffee, staring at the blank wall.
Someone had been messing with the CloudPoint, so Dakota was going to pull watch data, to see who was there. It might show no one, because clearly people were wandering around without their watches on. He thought about dots. The way people moved around the Cloud floor like ants. Or like clouds. Big, thick clouds of people, breaking apart, re-forming. Masses of them that blended together…
Huh.
He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Dakota: Had an idea I wanted to run by you. If you’re willing to hear it.
After clicking around the television for a few minutes and being unable to settle on anything, he strapped his watch back on, now at 92 percent, and made his way out to the shower.
He almost didn’t want to shower. Wanted that smell of Zinnia on his skin to linger all day. But he knew he needed it, probably reeked of booze and sex, which was no way to go into work, and anyway, as he turned on the water he thought about the sink in the bathroom and washing his hands and the blood that was on them after the man got hit by the tram, and that erased any residual good memories of the previous night.
Showered and changed, he felt a little more comfortable, and he felt even better when he checked his phone and Dakota had written back: Report to Admin. Let’s hear it.
He found Dakota sitting in a cubicle. She glanced up from a piece of paper she was scanning and said, “Geez, someone got laid last night.”
Paxton stuttered, searching for words.
“You reek of it,” she said.
“Well…I mean, I showered….”
Dakota slapped down the paper. “Don’t admit to it. That’s even worse.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“C’mon, out with it.”
Paxton put his hands together like he was praying, to center himself. “Okay, we know people are somehow blocking the signal. And this morning I had this thought. We can’t track these people. But shouldn’t we be able to see them disappear off the map? Like, when their signal drops off. Shouldn’t we be able to at least see that?”
Dakota stared at him, her face revealing nothing. After a few moments she stood up and stalked off. Over her shoulder she said, “Wait here.”
Paxton watched her disappear into a conference room. He sat in her seat, still warm from her, and stared at the empty cubicle across from him. He spun back and forth in the seat until he heard footsteps. Dakota was standing above him.
“Come with me,” she said.
The conference room was dim, the screen on the wall lit up with the same view as the other day—Live-Play and the swarms of orange dots. Dobbs was seated at the head of the table, and three people—two women, one man, all in tech brown polos—were seated against the wall.
Dobbs nodded at Paxton as he entered. Dakota sat and Paxton followed, leaving an empty seat between them. He smiled at the three people across from him, who looked like animals caught in the headlights of a speeding semi.
Dobbs cleared his throat. The techies jolted. “We were just having a conversation about a few things. CloudPoints and CloudBand signals and such.” He nodded toward Paxton. “And Dakota comes in, tells me about this theory of yours.” He looked at the tech workers. “Siobhan. Go ahead.”
One of the girls—strawberry hair and button nose—perked up. “Okay,” she said. Then again. “Okay.” She took a deep breath, looked at Dakota and Paxton. “We never really…um, I mean…the problem is the signals all sort of…merge when there are too many people.”
Dobbs exhaled hard through his nose.
Siobhan kept an eye on him, like she was afraid he might pounce. “There’s too much data. Too many people. Too many signals. That…” She pointed to the orange dots. “In many ways those are an approximation. Your CloudBand marks position based on a few things: Wi-Fi, GPS, cellular. But we can’t track you down to within an inch of where you’re standing. Those dots could be ten, twenty feet off. Sometimes more. Sometimes they’ll just randomly jump a bit. It’s a lot for the system to process.”
Paxton thought of Zinnia, of her little dot following his dot.
That must’ve been it. A glitch.
“What you’re saying is, you hadn’t thought to look for signal drops?” Dobbs asked.
Siobhan mumbled something that sounded like “No.”
Dobbs exhaled. “Thought this place had its own damn satellite.”
“Six,” Siobhan said. “But until the moonshot team cracks quantum computing, there’s only so much data we can process at a time. In fact, it gets harder as we go along, because there’s more and more….”
Dobbs stared.
“I mean…we could try,” Siobhan said. “We would have to look manually, and it would take a lot of time….”
“Try,” Dobbs said, smiling. “All I ask. But still no idea what they could be using to block the signal?”
The three techies looked among themselves, the two lackeys terrified of answering, of opening their mouths, so they defaulted to Siobhan, who whispered, “No.”
“Great,” Dobbs said. “Just great. Since we’ve got nothing there, can you tell me what the hell was with that match yesterday?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Paxton said, eager to show Dobbs he was on the ball, but Dobbs shot him a hard glance. Paxton shut up, turned his attention to Siobhan.
“The usual,” Siobhan said. “Hackers. This is the first they’ve gotten through in, what…” She looked at the woman to her left. “A year and a half? More?”
“More,” the woman said.
“More,” Siobhan said. “Honestly, we’re not even sure what it meant. All we know is, it was an outside attack and they didn’t leave anything behind in the system.”
Dobbs sighed. Put his hands on the table. Stared at them, hard, like they might turn into something more interesting than hands.
“We found the weakness they exploited,” Siobhan said. “It was a little glitch of code left by the last system update. It’s already been patched. But we do have to prep a bigger software update now. To address this, but also, we think we might be able to do a better pinpoint on the location data. We just need…time.”
Dobbs raised an eyebrow and looked at her.
“How much time?”
“Two months?” she said. “Maybe more.”
“Faster than that,” Dobbs said, not a suggestion. “And I want a team assigned specifically to looking for signal drops. Even if it means a bunch of people sitting in a room and staring at a screen.”
Her mouth fell open, like a protest was forming, but she thought better of it.
“Good,” Dobbs said. “That’ll be all.”
The three techies got up and filed out of the room, nearly tripping over themselves to get into the light beyond the doorway. They left the door open, so Dakota got up and closed it and returned to her seat.
Dobbs tented his fingers and did that damn thing where he took his time before speaking, but when he did, he said, “Sometimes you need a new set of eyes on something. Can’t believe we didn’t think to look for signal drops. And that was a good catch with someone tampering with the CloudPoint.” He nodded at Paxton. “I guess I wasn’t wrong about you.”
Paxton didn’t know how to respond. He just basked in the approval, which felt a little like sunlight on a cold day.
“Forget scanner duty,” Dobbs said. “You keep making observations like that, that’s e
xactly what I need on this team. I want you and Dakota out, talking to more people. Look around. Gonna take old-fashioned shoe leather to shake this one out. You can both go. Try and bring me something I can use, okay?”
Dakota stood straight up, pushing out her chair, and turned to the door. Paxton lingered, thought there’d be at least one more thing on the agenda. Dobbs’s face was planted firmly south and he knew he was making a mistake by bringing it up, but he did anyway. “What about the man who got hit by the train yesterday. And the others?”
“Damn shame,” Dobbs said. “What about it?”
“Shouldn’t we do something? Like, you ever see those subways with the partitions? It’s like a glass cube, and the doors don’t open until the train pulls in. That way no one can fall. Or, you know…”
Dobbs stood, put his hands on his chair. Leaned down. “You know how much that would cost? We looked into it. Millions, to do all the stations. And that’s just here. Men upstairs don’t want to spend it. That’s why we increase patrols. We do the best we can. Maybe next time you’ll be a little more aware of your surroundings and we can avoid things like that.”
Paxton’s voice caught in his throat. He hadn’t thought of it like that. As his fault. And for a moment he wasn’t sure Dobbs did either, but that didn’t make it any better or worse. He kicked himself mentally, realized he should have stuck with the good part.
“What are you waiting for, son?” Dobbs asked. He raised his hand toward the door. “Back on patrol.”
Paxton nodded, found Dakota lingering outside, listening. They walked in silence to the lobby and took the tram to the promenade and completed almost an entire circuit before Dakota said, “It’s not your fault.”
“Feels like it.”
“Dobbs is in a mood,” she said. “But you’re on his good side right now, and that’s all that matters.”
“Right,” Paxton said. “Right. All that matters.”
As he stepped off the elevator he made a mental note to check his star rating at the end of his shift.
GIBSON
The time has come. Time to tell you who’s taking over for me when I’m gone.
I want y’all to know, right up front, that this was a difficult decision to make. I had a lot of factors to weigh. A lot of things that kept me up at night, and I’ve already been having trouble sleeping so this wasn’t exactly a pleasant few weeks now.
And I thought: I’m going to have a hell of a time explaining this. Because there’s a lot about this decision that makes sense on paper, but there’s also a lot that makes sense in my head. The stuff in my head, every time I try to say it, it gets all jumbled up.
But at the end of the day, the decision is mine. This isn’t about any one person. This is about the good of the company. It’s about building on the promise I made to myself with Cloud—that we wouldn’t just concern ourselves with getting goods from one place to another. That we’d do our best to make the world a better place. By providing jobs, and health care, and housing. By reducing the greenhouse gases suffocating our planet, with the dream that one day people will be able to go outside again all year round.
I want to thank Ray Carson for his years of service to Cloud. Man has been there since the beginning. He’s been like a brother to me. And I will never forget the kindness he showed me on our first night, that night where all I wanted was a celebratory drink and I couldn’t afford it. That’s a true measure of character. The man has it in spades. I know he’s the one you all expect me to name. Every news network on earth, even all the ones I own, has been reporting it like that.
But my daughter, Claire, will replace me as the president and CEO of Cloud.
I’ve already asked Ray to stay on in his position as vice president and COO, and I’m awaiting his response. I truly hope he stays on. Claire needs it. The company needs it. We’re at our best with him. That’s all for now. I just really want to make this clear. It wasn’t easy. But it was the right decision to make.
ZINNIA
Zinnia woke to the gentle buzz of her CloudBand. Checked the time. One hour to shift. Climbed out of bed and threw on a robe. Walked down the hallway, watching for Rick. Not there. Went into the ladies’. Showered. Returned to her room. Checked her laptop. Still working. Dressed. Stopped in a bodega to get a PowerBuff salted caramel protein bar. Took the tram to the warehouse floor. Picked tablets and books and phone chargers. Stopped for a piss. Picked flashlights and markers and sunglasses. Ate her protein bar. Picked welcome mats and backpacks and charcoal scrubs. Another piss. Picked shower radios and wineglasses and more books. Picked headphones and dolls and baking sheets. Left, feet aching. Passed the arcade and considered some Pac-Man. Passed the bar and considered some vodka. But her feet protested. She made her way to her apartment and read until she fell asleep.
PAXTON
Paxton woke a few minutes before his CloudBand was meant to wake him up. Checked his rating. Still three stars. Stumbled to the bathroom, showered, shaved, dressed in blue, and made his way to Admin, where he met Dakota. The two of them walked back and forth on the promenade, the stroll broken up by the occasional intervention. Two people arguing. A young man accused of shoplifting. Belligerent drunk. Then: more walking. Eyes peeled for handoffs, of which none were apparent. Some small talk with Dakota. Lunch at the ramen shop. More walking. More interventions. Passed-out oblivion user on a bench in Live-Play. Fistfight in a bar. Kids skateboarding in the rec zone. At the end of shift, Paxton turned toward his apartment, considered texting Zinnia, decided against it. Too tired. He went home, didn’t bother unfolding the futon, and fell asleep watching television.
ZINNIA
Zinnia woke to the gentle buzz of her CloudBand. One hour to shift. Walked down the hallway, watching for Rick. Not there. Went into the ladies’. Showered. Stopped in a bodega to get a PowerBuff salted caramel protein bar. Took the tram to the warehouse floor. Picked fish oil pills and knitting needles and spatulas. Stopped for a piss. Picked stools and measuring tapes and activity trackers. Picked grill covers and night-lights and showerheads. Left, feet aching. Passed the arcade and made it to the bar, where she ordered a vodka. Paxton entered shortly thereafter. They talked. No movement on the signals. They went back to her place and fucked. He left. She went to take a shower but the ladies’ room was locked, and in the gender-neutral bathroom Rick cornered her and watched her change. She went back to her room, but before she entered she watched as a team of people removed a body bag from the apartment two doors down, one of them saying something about an oblivion overdose. She went inside and picked up a book, considered it, put it back down, went to sleep.
PAXTON
Paxton woke to the soft beep of his CloudBand. Showered, shaved, dressed in blue, and made his way to Admin. He and Dakota walked back and forth on the promenade, the stroll broken up by a search for Warren at the arcade, to see if there was anything worth seeing, but there wasn’t. Then: More walking. Eyes peeled for handoffs. Some small talk with Dakota. Lunch at the taco shop. More walking. Some interventions. Drunks fighting in a bar. Kids being loud. At the end of shift, Paxton turned toward his apartment, texted Zinnia, didn’t hear back right away. Stopped in a store that sold CloudBands, found a nice brown leather strap in a vintage style, with rivets and raised stitching. He bought that and went home, where he swapped out the standard band. He didn’t bother unfolding the futon. Sat with his journal open, to NEW IDEA, and fell asleep watching television.
ZINNIA
Zinnia woke. One hour to shift. Walked down the hallway, watching for Rick. Not there. Showered. Stopped in a bodega to get a PowerBuff salted caramel protein bar. Picked shawls and energy drinks and weight-lifting gloves. Picked pillows and wool hats and scissors. Passed the arcade. Stopped in for Pac-Man. Met Paxton for a movie. Fell asleep during it and told him they couldn’t fuck afterward; she had her period. She liked his new CloudBand strap so he walked her over to
the store, where she found a nice fabric fuchsia band. Afterward she made her way to her apartment and read until she fell asleep.
PAXTON
Paxton woke. Three stars. Uttered a string of curses. Showered, shaved, dressed in blue. He and Dakota walked back and forth on the promenade. Looked for Warren. Lunch at the arepa shop. More walking. Got a call about a red who hadn’t shown up for his shift or reported in sick, and it turned out to be an oblivion OD. They kept the area clear while the medical team removed the body, then knocked on every door of the hallway, trying to find out more about the dead employee. His name was Sal. They turned up no new leads. At the end of shift, Paxton turned toward his apartment, considered texting Zinnia, didn’t, went home. Fell asleep watching television.
ZINNIA
Zinnia woke. Went to work. Picked scales and books and ratchet sets. Wandered for two hours, wondering about the source of the electricity, the thing that kept this place moving, as her laptop translated the Cloud code into something she could use. Went to sleep.
PAXTON
Paxton woke. Went to work. Walked back and forth on the promenade, wondering what it would take to finally get him to four stars. Made love to Zinnia. Fell asleep watching television.
ZINNIA
Zinnia woke. Worked. Fell asleep.
PAXTON
Paxton woke. Worked. Fell asleep.
GIBSON
Here we go. Once again, I have to set the record straight on some things.
It’s been a while since I’ve written. And that’s because after I announced that Claire would be taking over the company, things got a little nutty. First off, the press went and started reporting all these stories about Ray being mad at me, because he thought he was next in line, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. Anyone who watches the Cloud News Network would know that, but it seems like some people can’t be bothered to do their research.