by Damian Foyle
Chapter 03
An outsider usually thought of Free Zones as the Amish colonies of the 22nd century, yet they were ripe with technology. What missing was wireless connections and artificial intelligence. It might seem ridiculous to embrace one part of technology and exclude the other to the point of obsession, but it was hard to argue with these people. Simply, they didn’t take criticism lightly.
Free Zones were initially born out of the archaic mistrust of ever-evolving technology and the anti-globalization movement. They were against the globalization at first, then the internet, and the GlobalNET was the last drop. In time, those little pockets turned into villages, then into bigger communities of like-minded crazy survivalists of a technology ruled era. They slowly evolved into a society abhorring every kind of wireless connection, straying further away from the founding principles. Nowadays, they were ruled by an unhealthy dose of paranoia.
I guess the real motivating reason behind the movement was the insecurity of a single entity entering every part of our lives, from house alarms to missile guiding systems. It seemed like the perfect recipe for disaster, a global self-destruction button, but the GlobalNET proved itself each day. Every expert said the same thing; each node inside GlobalNET –your kettle for example, had its own firewall system that drew computing power from GlobalNET itself when necessary. GlobalNET was hack-proof, they said and everyone believed that. There was no reason not to... until today. It had all changed today. It took more than fifty years, but someone finally managed to do it.
I was only experiencing a small part of the results of this morning. I suspected there were other journalists, scientists and experts out there scratching their heads, thinking "What the hell just happened?"
I knew this much though, a certain journalist would soon wipe his arse with awards and cold hard cash.
The helicopter dropped me off just outside the ranges of the jammers. Free Zone 13 wasn’t a town circled with ten feet high walls and guarded with machine guns; fortunately that part of Free Zone history was way behind us.
A black car and a military looking man were waiting for me just next to a simple sign saying "Welcome to FZ13. Population: 7251"
A nondescript road eventually led into the town center. My attempts to start a conversation were skillfully evaded during the ten minutes ride into the town. The driver dropped me off at one corner and pointed at the building with a blinding white facade.
Free Zone 13 had the look and feel of a small time American town. Little stores and tasteful cafes lined the main street. Nobody was screaming around and preaching the end of times.
I found the Mayor waiting for me in front of the building.
"Welcome to Free Zone 13," he said with a wide a smile and started walking. "Let's go, Mike."
I blinked at his back, shook my head and followed him. Mayor Johnson had perfected the friendly politician to an art. He was wearing a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and simple faded jeans. Ready to do some honest work, folks! His hair looked messy and unruly at first sight, yet not even once his hand went to his hair; afraid to mess the well-designed look probably.
He didn’t have the look of a sharp senator with carefully designed personality and outfit, yet everything about him screamed dishonest, if not total fake.
"I hope you don't mind walking around while we talk. Despite the complications, this is a rather nice weather to be stuck inside."
My jaw was already starting to hurt from my smile-reflex kicking in every time. I looked around nervously expecting to see snipers prowling the roof tops above us. I didn’t understand why I felt so twitchy around him.
Reverend Samuel would look straight into your eyes as he bludgeoned you to death if it came to that, but Mayor Johnson would stab you in the back as he sang a sweet lullaby and whispered in your ears that everything was going to be all right.
Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating, yet it was how I felt as we strolled around in this small American town.
"I hear you've had some problems," I said finally. Focusing on work in this kind of situation gave me strength so I could ask tough questions.
"Unfortunately, we did. It's troubling news for us. As you already saw, the town is well guarded by a very sophisticated web of jammers. Not a single wireless communication device works here; we're totally cut from GlobalNET."
"Do you have any theories regarding the incident?"
"We have a few. The leading one is that it was an inside job. There is no way that an attack on GlobalNET would be able infiltrate our network."
"What makes you think it's an inside job?"
"Simple deduction to be honest. Whoever designed this elaborate attack on GlobalNET must have infiltrated Free Zones around the world, so they could release a version of the same virus in sync with the actual one. We have a powerful firewall in place to prevent these kinds of attacks from outside, but it's slightly more inefficient if it happens from the inside."
"Do you have any proof of this?" I asked. He was making sense, yet I would rather hear some solid facts.
"We will soon. As other Free Zones around the world, we're currently investigating the possibility of sleeper cells. In fact, if you look this way..." he said, pointing leisurely to a small house.
Men dressed in tactical gear and equipped with guns and gas masks were covertly moving towards the house. We were the only ones left in the streets. One of them broke a window and threw inside a can of tear gas while, I assumed, another team entered through the back door, flushing them out to the street.
Soon, the front door opened and a little girl ran outside crying. Men in masks and armors grabbed her and carried her away in an instant. A woman appeared after the girl, followed by a man crawling on his hands and knees, bleeding heavily from a head wound. Someone kicked him over the stairs to the sidewalk. They were carried away and stuffed into a black van. All that happened in mere minutes.
"What-" I managed to say. The words stuck in my throat. My hands were shaking and a headache was starting to develop at the base of my skull. "Is that your bloody terrorist cell, a family having lunch?"
"Now, now," he said, giving me another warm smile. "When I said they infiltrated, I didn't mean they sneaked in the middle of the night. No, they were here, waiting for their moment for years... like the spy stories we hear from the cold war era before the Unification."
"This is-" I didn’t have any words to describe it. I should have suspected this type of paranoia was still alive inside the Free Zone. You didn’t get to be a mayor in Free Zones, unless you were paranoid to the point of mental disorder.
"You realize this will be in my story, right?"
"Of course, Mike. I don't expect any less. It's time people outside know we will not stand for intrusion. Personally, I think this is a great opportunity for us. Finally, someone breached GlobalNET, proving us right right. I'm afraid your job here is done, Mr. Connolly," he said turning his back to me and walking away. "I expect you to leave the town in an hour."