Smasher

by Scott Bly

  “Bingo. Like water pressure.”

  “Electromagnetism is one of the three fundamental forces of nature.”

  “Yeah, but it’s called the electro-weak force, actually,” Geneva corrected. “Gravity and the strong nuclear force are the other two. Right now, I need to find some lightning.”

  “And lightning is a form of static electricity. Why do you need lightning?”

  “To recharge. You stay here and get some rest. You’re going to need it.”

  “I won’t be able to sleep.” He didn’t want to tell her about the prophecy, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  “Well, then practice your binary math on the abacus. Remember, ones and zeroes. And stay hidden,” Geneva stressed. “I’ll be gone a while.” She climbed into the dumbwaiter and stepped out into the rain.

  Charlie tried to remember the details of the prophecy. The Hum might fade … but the Hum was the life energy that composed the whole world and everything beyond it. How could the world continue to exist if the Hum faded away? Or maybe the Hum was still here, but humans had disconnected to it. They had stopped believing.

  Was it possible Geneva lived in a world that denied the existence of the Hum? Only Gramercy Foxx still seemed to hold the connection….

  * * *

  Gaaazzzzaaap! Geneva’s metal fingertip attracted the lightning bolt exactly as she planned. Then she slid into the fitful sleep of maintenance mode, hidden on her rooftop.

  She knew she wasn’t really dreaming, because she was a robot, and robots don’t dream. So no matter how real or bizarre her slumbering images were, in reality, they were memory-read errors in her holographic storage.

  Her maintenance programmer-mechanic had been dismissive. “File compression probably caused your consciousness circuitry to overload,” he’d said. “I’ll clear it up when I have time.” But the time never came.

  So she accepted it. What choice did she have? Anyway, she wanted to avoid maintenance downtime. The dreams scared her.

  She was a robot, and robots did as they were told … most of the time. In this area, Geneva had been an expensive experiment. She had been programmed to be independent, to act on her own — and she’d recently decided that her programmer-mechanic’s orders didn’t matter anymore.

  So she had escaped.

  Now she was completely on her own, yet her dreams persisted. And they held messages.

  As she drifted through sleep — maintenance mode, she reminded herself — she was swimming. Foxx was there, purple with rage. The dream morphed into a fight against him. But her weapons failed. She was defenseless when Foxx blasted her.

  Then water came rushing in again, filling her up, and …

  * * *

  Geneva sat up. The last time she recharged with lightning, she had been knocked out for twelve hours. This time it had been twenty minutes. I wonder if Charlie’s connection to the Hum has anything to do with it?

  Gramercy Foxx sat behind a desk, his back turned to the gathered reporters. He’d been busy. The Future would be released in two weeks.

  If only this wasn’t so exhausting. It didn’t used to be. Foxx remembered a time when he could kill with a word, feast on the ripening soul of a true believer, and still have energy left over to influence the stock market with the Power of Suggestion.

  Soon his strength would return. Callis would rule. This time, he would use the limitless reach of technology. He focused on the ancient pool of the Hum, once so deep, and turned to the cameras.

  During the “emergency” press conference at the hospital, Foxx had added only the slightest hint of Suggestion to his words. Yet it worked. One week later, millions, perhaps billions, watched on their device screens, hoping for clues about The Future. Even the most jaded reporters were excited, although they hid it.

  One woman in the room stood out to Gramercy Foxx: Jane Virtue, a young vlogger. The intense interest on her face caught his attention. It could have been mistaken for professionalism, or a crush, or she might even have been starstruck. But Foxx suspected the truth had more to do with what he promised: to unite the world in one consciousness.

  Foxx could see into Jane Virtue’s heart. He recognized the flush of idealism, the hope for a better world.

  Jane’s skeptical side suspected this was all just a clever marketing slogan, but what if it wasn’t? Foxx donated educational software to schools, wiped out hunger in cities across the nation, and gave away free Internet access to the masses. What if he really had found the key to true unity? Her optimistic side wanted to believe.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the world, boys and girls,” Foxx began with disarming charm, “The Future is coming, friends, and it will be … glorious!” He caressed the minds of everyone who listened.

  Jane Virtue forgot the notepad in her lap. She could replay his speech from her mocap recorder anytime. But she would probably hear Foxx in person only once. He had been so reclusive these past few years. He’d never married.

  Like the others who listened, Jane felt that Foxx spoke directly to her, comforting her, soothing her fears. So much pain and suffering had ravaged the planet. Maybe it was time for true and lasting change.

  After the conference, Foxx’s assistants whisked the reporters away. The exertion of Foxx’s will tapped his powers, but he would rest and recover. The need for his greatest energy would be coming soon.

  Jane Virtue answered her VidFon by simply saying, “Answer call.” The earpiece in her stylish-yet-intellectual glasses pumped soothing hold music. The auto-dialer on the other end must have been jammed up with other calls. Technology. She rolled her eyes and popped another slice of sushi into her mouth. Can’t live with it, can’t …

  “Jane Virtue?” the auto-attendant’s voice chimed.

  “Yes, this is Jane,” she said through a mouthful of fish.

  “Please hold for Evelyn Rasmussin.”

  Jane’s earpiece piped in music.

  “Ms. Virtue, thank you for holding.”

  “Not a problem.” Jane swallowed. “What can I do for you?”

  “I am Gramercy Foxx’s personal assistant. He’d like to speak with you directly. He follows your vlog. Are you available for a video call?”

  Jane was glad she’d swallowed already, or she would have choked. The Gramercy Foxx wanted to speak to her — not just on the phone but a video call!

  Get ahold of yourself, Jane. “Yes, I can take the call.” Mr. Foxx wouldn’t be impressed with her choice of lunch locale — Kwik Sushi, at a discount mall. Mortified, she dashed across the food court. “Can you hold on a minute? I’m kind of …”

  She almost fell over a baby carriage. “I’m finishing up a story at my desk. Can I, can you, hold on while I go to our … conference room?”

  She ran through the mall, one hand in her purse digging for her VidCel, the other fussing with her hair. Why didn’t she make a habit of primping before she left the office? Because she believed it was more important to be professional and compassionate than to merely look professional and compassionate.

  Evelyn waited patiently as the obviously inexperienced reporter did whatever it was these people did. Evelyn understood that her job was to make sure Mr. Foxx never had to wait. If that meant Evelyn did the waiting, it was fine with her.

  It was, however, unusual for Mr. Foxx to wait silently on the line, listening to the person dash around, unaware that Foxx could hear every little gasp and clatter. Well, he had his reasons, and it wasn’t her place to ask questions.

  “Oh, the conference room is taken — there’s a board meeting,” Jane lied, a little out of breath. “Let me just …”

  “Not to worry, dear. Mr. Foxx will join the call whenever you’re ready.”

  “Let me check the small conference room. There’s no video tie-in, but my VidCel does video OK, if that’s all right.”

  She held her breath. Would her bluff work? And would a changing room at Retro Girl pass for a small conference room? Unlikely, but it was the only quiet, private
place she could find.

  “Of course, dear,” Evelyn soothed. “You’re ready for Mr. Foxx, then?”

  “Yes, yes, let me just …” Jane checked her hair, made sure her nose wasn’t shiny, and balanced the phone on a shelf. “I’ll activate the video.” The lens tracked her face. A clear, steady image projected onto the nearest wall. The fluorescent-green picture horrified her — she looked like a vampire — but then it adjusted again, correcting the white balance to the warm lighting of a desk lamp. Much better. “OK, Evelyn, I’m all set. Do you have video on your end?” She gave her best attempt at a relaxed smile.

  * * *

  Perfect, just perfect. The windows darkened, and Jane appeared on Foxx’s wall-size conference screen, just as he remembered her, though her cheeks were flushed from rushing about. The young, idealistic reporter — as long as she spoke the same way she looked, he would have what he needed.

  Was that a coat hanger swinging in and out of the background?

  He had the call traced to satisfy his curiosity. Information was power, especially if she was to be a central piece in his endgame — a discount mall far from her East LAanges office. Researching a story? Shopping? It made little difference.

  How would she conduct herself under pressure? He heard her breathing more slowly. He couldn’t let her get too comfortable. Another video screen lit up, and his timeless features filled the wall.

  Jane fought to keep from gasping. His face looked so unusual on this device! Not at all like the man she’d seen at the press conference. And now she was speaking with him, face-to-face!

  “Ms. Virtue,” Foxx began silkily, “I hope I didn’t interrupt your shopping trip.”

  Jane blinked. How did he know? “Not at all. The seamstress can wait,” she improvised. “To what do I owe the honor, sir?”

  “Direct and to the point. I like that. I have a proposition for you, dear.” How would she respond to “dear”? Would it ruffle her feathers, or would she warm up?

  She gave him no reaction whatsoever.

  “Proposition? You already get more press than football and soccer.”

  “Media ownership has privileges.” Foxx leaned in slightly; he was personal, secretive. “I want you to have the exclusive. You can be the member of the press to experience The Future — firsthand.”

  Jane struggled to maintain her poker face. “Well, Mr. Foxx, that’s very interesting. But what do you want from me?”

  “I want you to see our preparations,” he said. “I follow The Daily Virtue. It’s an impressive vlog. I desire only a truthful opinion from a woman of your integrity.”

  He was offering her a dream shot. But it was too good to be true.

  “Why me? What’s your angle?”

  Resistance? Excellent. She was sharper than he’d hoped. But he knew she was hooked. “Angle? My dear, there is no angle. May I call you Jane?”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t need more money, power, or influence. I want to give back. The Future will do precisely what I have said. In twelve days, humanity will come together. This is the next step, Jane.

  “I’ve read your articles. I know you’re honest. Even to your detriment.”

  Her detriment. So he knew how she’d lost her last big job. They’d fired her after she wrote an article about conflicts of interest on the board of directors.

  “What do I have to do?”

  “Excellent. You will meet me at my office first thing in the morning, of course. Five a.m. See you then.”

  His line went dead.

  Five a.m.? But that was the least of Jane Virtue’s problems.

  The Hum was here — it had to be. But people had lost their ability to see it, to feel it. Why would the Hum be so alive for Gramercy Foxx? How did he stay connected? Charlie sighed. If I understood that, maybe the rest of the pieces of this computer-virus puzzle would fall into place.

  “You said you harness the Hum. What can you do with it?” Geneva asked.

  “Here, I don’t know what I can do. It’s like a stream that’s run dry — the water should be flowing, but it isn’t.

  “I’m not accomplished with it yet, although I was learning fast. It’s so much harder here! My grandfather can build a shield of energy around a person or animal to protect him. Some people can heal — my mother was very good at that. They say she was a genius.”

  “Maybe you’re a genius, too.”

  “All my grandfather does is punish me!”

  “You need to keep practicing here. So you get strong with it in my time.”

  “I am. You just don’t notice, I’ve been practicing every minute since I got here. And I am getting stronger. Every day has made a difference.”

  “What else do your people do?”

  “Once I saw my grandfather actually disappear. But that requires a lot of emotion. Most of the masters can make things happen. The Interrogator says it’s unnatural. But the Hum is good. It connects everything in the world. It’s the power source! My grandmother said her garden grew from it, and the songs of the universe were more beautiful because of it. Animals could communicate with her, and she attracted them wherever she went, especially wild birds. She could start a fire or put one out, or if she needed wood or water, it would come. I mean, somebody would bring it. Unspoken. But the most important part is belief.”

  “Were people experimenting with it? To see how much they could do?”

  “Always. From the beginning of time.”

  “Which means you don’t fully know what it can do, right? Which means we also don’t know what Foxx can do with it….”

  That sank in for Charlie, right to the pit of his stomach. She was right — they had no idea of Foxx’s capabilities.

  “Geneva, some people are born better at sports or music. It’s the same with the Hum. Some people are born with a much stronger ability to use the Hum. It runs in families.”

  “You’re saying it’s genetic?”

  “I know it’s in my blood. It must be in his, too. Foxx and I have that much in common. I’ll give you a practical example of using the Hum. Something simple I can do here in your time. Do you have a coin?”

  Geneva put a coin in his hand.

  “On my fifth birthday my grandfather taught me this,” Charlie said, holding the coin for her to see. “I hope I get this right.” He waved the coin in the air, then laid it flat in his palm. “I’m going to make this coin disappear. Watch carefully.” And with a flourish, the coin was gone.

  “Where did it go?” Geneva played along, humoring him as if he were a toddler. He didn’t know her eyes watched faster and more closely than a human’s.

  “I think …” Charlie reached dramatically. “… it’s right …” He snatched the coin from behind her ear. “… here!”

  “But that’s just a trick.”

  “It was a trick.” He suddenly became serious. “It’s important to know the difference between a trick and the use of the Hum.” He pulled the feather from home out of his pocket. “The Hum,” he said slowly, “is the true essence of all things.” He took a deep breath and began focusing his mind, shutting out all distractions.

  Geneva fell silent. She matched Charlie’s slow, even breathing.

  “My grandfather taught me it is ‘the power we all draw upon for strength in difficult times.’ ” The coin lay flat in one hand, and he held the feather aloft in the other. Charlie closed his eyes. “Practiced with love in our hearts …”

  The feather began to tremble. Geneva’s eyes widened.

  “… the world opens up … and shows us …” The coin also began to tremble. The coin rose slowly from Charlie’s hand, floating above his outstretched palm. “… that anything is possible.”

  The coin floated slowly across to Geneva’s outstretched hand. Eyes still closed, Charlie lowered the feather, and the coin dropped into her palm.

  The silence and electricity in the air were palpable.

  Geneva finally exhaled. “That was real, wasn’t it? No trick?”
>
  “No trick.”

  Amazed, she rolled the coin in her hand and considered Charlie’s words.

  “That took a lot out of me, though,” he panted, putting the feather back in his pocket. “It should have been easy. At home, it would have been simple.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Geneva murmured.

  “Believe me, it’s a small thing. There’s something about the energy here that makes it more difficult. My entire life my grandfather said the Hum would disappear. Did it?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me. And if love is so important to keep in your heart, then how can someone evil — a man like Gramercy Foxx — use the Hum?”

  Charlie didn’t have an answer.

  “So people have used the Hum before to do evil things — but no one could stop them?”

  “No one has been able to stop the Interrogator. Some people think he uses the Hum himself. Otherwise, why wouldn’t the people he’s killing use it to destroy him? Maybe the Interrogator killed my family by using the Hum.”

  “Who knows?” Geneva said. “Maybe you’re more powerful than you think you are. But now it’s your turn to learn.”

  “I am learning! For almost two weeks I’ve done nothing but learn.”

  “You need to know everything about code and computers — how they work and why they work. Otherwise — Hum or no Hum — we have no chance of stopping Foxx.”

  “Jane Virtue for Gramercy Foxx.”

  The security guard checked her ID. “Take this elevator to the 200th floor, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.”

  The 200th floor reception area was designed to enthrall visitors. A waterfall in the center of the room flowed right to the glass wall, giving the impression of Infinity Falls. It was breathtaking — a waterfall high above downtown LAanges.

  “Good morning,” said a bright-eyed girl with an eager smile. “I’m Allison, Mr. Foxx’s Third Assistant. You must be Ms. Virtue.”

  “I am,” Jane said, feeling very out of place.

  “Mr. Foxx will see you right away.” Allison led Jane around the corner, past the office of Second Assistant, who did the paperwork, judging from the stacks.