“But you’re so pretty,” I say.
“Too pretty for a military type?” she says, not without a warm smile.
A wave of embarrassment washes over me.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” I say. “That was a silly thing to say, even for me.”
She laughs. It’s a friendly laugh, as opposed to Matt Tyrel who would laugh bitterly.
“You look tired, and like you could use a few good hours of shut eye,” she says. Then, glancing at Tony. “You too, my friend.”
Tony introduces himself, shakes her hand.
“I don’t have to tell you both you are most definitely terminated at this point,” Mary says. “I’m sure you’ve figured that one out for yourself.”
I give Tony a look over my shoulder.
“We were discussing it on the pleasant drive over here,” I say. “By the way, where is here?”
“Not far from your favorite hotdog shack,” comes a voice I recognize. A sweet, but manly voice.
I turn.
“Gus,” I say. “You’re alive. I thought . . .”
I allow the thought to trail off, because he knows exactly where I’m going with it.
“You thought I would have been picked up by now by Everest Police,” he says. “I heard all about the attack on you and Tony. Also about your folks being terminated. Not good news. But if there is some good news, it’s this: by being less than subtle in their attempt to take you and Tony out, they alerted both the Drake Corporation and the Resistance.” He takes hold of my hand, holds it in his big paw of a hand. “Whether you like it or not, Tanya, you are part of the Resistance now.”
I smile.
“I couldn’t be happier about it.” Then, glancing at Tony. “Tony, too. Isn’t that right, Tony?”
He nods.
“Looks like my writing and publishing days are over for a while,” he says.
Gus isn’t wearing his long white apron. He is instead dressed in a black jeans and combat boots. He’s got a tight black t-shirt on under a black tactical vest. On his hip, a semi-automatic pistol. A 9mm by the looks of it. I should know, because I own one. The vest contains pockets for maybe six more nine-round magazines. Again, it’s the kind of outfit one of my writers would describe for the heroes and heroines of their thrillers. An outfit not that different from the Everest military police. But more importantly, an outfit that makes it easy for him to blend in with the night.
“What’s happening here?” Tony asks.
“What’s it look like?” Mary interjects.
“Looks like you’re preparing for war,” Tony says. “All out, total war.”
“That’s exactly what’s happening,” Gus says. “Everest is planning on launching the new generation of Jacquie any day now, and we can’t let them get away with it. The Resistance has partnered with Drake. We act as probes and reconnaissance for them. In turn, they pay us in US currency, bullets, guns, medical supplies, shelters, survival gear, you name it.”
“Speaking of which,” I say, glancing down at my dress. “I could use a change of wardrobe.”
“I could use a weapon,” Tony says.
“You’ll get everything you need,” Mary says. “Right now, you both look like you need some rest and something to eat. One of my soldiers will see you to your room downstairs.”
I thank her as she nods and walks away. That’s when I turn to Gus.
“Listen, Gus,” I say, “Everest has both my parents and Tony’s brother, Mike.”
He nods sadly, crosses his arms over his chest. “I know,” he says, in his deep, gruff but somehow sweet voice.
“I want to get them back,” I say. “Alive.”
“Do you believe they could be alive, Gus?” Tony asks, his face ashen and exhausted.
Gus looks us both in the eyes.
“I don’t want to promise you two anything,” he says. “But I believe it’s very possible they are alive. From what my intelligence tells me, terminated individuals are not disposed of, for lack of a better term, but instead, sent away.”
“Where to?” Tony poses.
It’s the obvious question but also one that tugs on our heartstrings.
“Encampments,” Gus says. “Prisons. Labor camps. Fulfillment centers. Call them what you want, they’re still the same thing.”
My insides dropping. I recall Dr. Porter mentioning fulfillment centers prior to his torturing me.
“But where exactly?”
“This much we do know. The Everest Corporation has commandeered three super max prisons. One in Colorado, one in Florida, and one in Upstate New York very near the Canadian Border at Dannemora. West Coast Primary offenders go to Colorado, South East offenders go to Florida, and North East criminals go to Upstate New York.”
“So, it only makes sense that my brother and Tanya’s parents are in Upstate.”
Gus cocks his head over shoulder, purses his lips.
“It would make sense, Tony. But we don’t know for sure. We’ve been doing our best to gather intel on these places, and now that we know about your parents, Tanya, and your brother, Tony, we’ll step up the efforts.” He pauses for a long beat. “But there’s one thing you gotta understand. Breaking out of these well-guarded prisons is next to impossible. Breaking in for the purposes of extracting prisoners will be even more impossible.”
“So, what you’re saying is it will take some serious planning,” I say.
“And firepower,” Tony says.
“And guts,” Gus says.
“We’ve got plenty of that,” I say.
“So, it’s settled then, Gus?” I say. “We’re going after my parents and Tony’s little brother, Mike?”
Gus sets both his big hands on my shoulders.
“The plan is already in the works, kid,” he says, confidently. “We commence at dawn. I’ll fill you in on all the details later.”
Just then, a young Drake soldier approaches us.
“I’ll take you to your room downstairs,” he says.
We enter into an elevator that takes us seven floors down into what can only be described as a concrete and steel bunker. We exit the elevator into a long, brightly lit corridor. The concrete block walls are painted white, while solid metal doors access the floor’s many rooms. Glancing up at the ceiling, I spot the occasional CCTV camera mounted to it along with alarm horns and emergency exit lighting fixtures.
The young soldier must notice me noticing the security equipment.
“Security is our main focus down here in the personnel quarters,” he volunteers. “Each floor is armed with its own armory and the walls, floor, and ceiling are essentially wrapped in stainless steel to guarantee that Jacquie cannot overhear us.”
“Let’s hope so,” Tony says.
“Never underestimate Everest AI,” I say, dry mouthed and sad. “I’ve learned that the hard way. Me and my entire family.”
We come to a room marked 127. Young Soldier uses a keycard to open the door. We step inside and are greeted by a wood paneled, hotel-style room that’s much warmer and homier than the corridor. A queen-sized bed is pushed against the wall to my right, and to my left a dresser of drawers and a small refrigerator. Mounted to the wall above that, a television. We have our own bathroom, and there’s a laptop computer set on a table at the far end of the room, along with two smartphones.
“Login and Wi-Fi instructions for the computer and smartphones are set on the table,” Young Soldier says. “In a little while, I’ll bring you your change of clothing and the other things you’ll require for your mission to liberate your parents and Mr. Smart’s younger brother. I’ll bring you something to eat later. For now, there’s drinks and snacks in the refrigerator. Please, get some rest.”
He places the keycard onto the table beside the laptop and exits the room. Tony and I silently gaze at one another.
“Strange, isn’t it,” he says. “Drake Corp. is very welcoming. My brother didn’t trust them anymore than he did Everest. It’s just that Everest was
willing to erase his debt and give him free money.” Scrunching his brow. “Seemed free at the time, anyway. I bought into it, too. Hook, line, and deadweight sinker.”
“We’re Everest disruptors now,” I say. “Resisters. I’m sure the Drake Corporation army could use ten-thousand more people just like us. Why do you think they’re so willing to shelter us, give us food, a room that looks like a suite in the Gramercy Park Hotel, and direct support to help us get our families back?”
“We manage to liberate our families, and Drake not only has new soldiers, they have three people who can spill some very valuable intel. We’re human probes whether we like it or not, Tan.”
“You couldn’t have written that any better, Tony.”
Making my way to the table, I read the log-in instructions for the phones. I pick up the phone that’s got a Post-a-Note stuck to it with the name ‘Tanya’ scribbled on the yellow paper in blue ballpoint. I type in the provided five-digit code on the keypad. The phone comes alive.
“Hello, Tanya,” the phone AI says. “You have no messages or emails.”
Tony performs the same operation with his smartphone. Same deal. No messages. But then again, I’m not surprised. We’ve disappeared from humanity. Everest.com humanity, that is. No one knows if we’re even alive. Not Kate, not my parents, certainly not Tony’s little brother. Drake is about to go to war with Everest on behalf of a new generation of Jacquie that’s about to be launched into orbit. Secrecy is paramount.
I gaze at the bed. It looks inviting as hell. Pulling off my dress I toss it onto the easy chair set in the far corner. I then take off my bra and undies and pull the bed down. Tony stands at the foot of the bed, a more or less stunned expression painting his face.
“What are you doing, Tan?” he asks.
“What’s it look like I’m doing, lover?”
“Sex,” he says, “at a time like this? This is not exactly the way I expected to spend our honeymoon night.”
“Right now,” I say, slipping under the sheets, “all I’m looking forward to is shutting my eyes, and getting some sleep. If you wouldn’t mind getting the lights.”
Tony quickly undresses down to his boxer shorts and gets in bed. He turns off the lights via the wall-mounted switches directly beside the bed board. He wraps his arm around me, spoons into me. For a brief moment, I am in heaven and everything that’s happened over the past few days—the disappearance of my parents, being hunted down like rabid dogs by Captain Matt Tyrel and his Everest police, nearly being blown to bits by tank shells, being chased across five tower rooftops only to be snatched out of mid-air, “re-education” by torture (a dentist for God’s sakes) inside an Everest facility (the Upstate New York headquarters?), and our liberation by the Drake Corporation army. Like I said before, you can’t make this stuff up. But then, these are the times we’re living in now. Dangerous times. Times we created. Times for which we have no one to blame but ourselves.
There was a point when we all loved the Everest Corporation to death. A time when shopping online was simply fun, convenient, and worry-free. We could hardly wait for the pleasant buzzing sound of those insect-like drone rotors coming from outside the front door and the box or boxes it was transporting to be dropped off on our doorstep. Even though it was bought and paid for by your very own credit card, the feeling was identical to receiving a present from somebody you love. It was like having a mini birthday every day. We used Everest.com on a daily basis. Sometimes twice per day. Or three times, depending on what we needed or more importantly, on what we wanted, whether we could afford it or not.
Sure, physical bookstores, malls, shopping centers, churches, eateries, doctor’s offices, and more were being phased out or consolidated. But it all happened so slowly, so methodically, so quietly, and so matter-of-factly, that we just chalked it up to progress and change. And yes, we were all guilty. Guilty of falling in love with an AI pal like Jacquie who we gladly invited into our homes since there was nothing she wouldn’t do for us, be it deliver our favorite songs or turn up the heat on a cold, snowy day, or even warn us of potential intruders. Jacquie represented the future, and the future looked bright.
We exposed her to our most intimate secrets, our most intimate desires and acts. We used the toilet in front of her, took showers in front of her, slept in front of her, ate in front of her, got drunk in front of her, had sex in front of her, fought with those we loved in front of her, and in turn, she recorded every bit of it, set up secret files on all of us, collected every bit of data that comprised our entire beings, in some cases, from cradle to the grave. When it came to our lives, our wants, desires, and weaknesses, she was all knowing, and we had no one to blame for it but ourselves.
She knew what foods we liked, what time we went to the bathroom in the morning, what kind of toothpaste we preferred, if we were lactose intolerant, what seasonal and food allergies we were prone too, what excited us and what depressed us, if we liked to talk during sex, if we liked missionary position. She even knew if we believed in God or not. She became our omniscient eyewitness and overseer, our conscience and our soul. And we loved every bit of it because, with Jacquie around, there was nothing to worry about. In a word, it all seemed so benign if not magical. High tech could be scary, but it could also be so damn good.
But then came the tipping point . . . the time when things got entirely out of control. The time when all the search engines began to consolidate in order to compete with Everest (or attempt to compete anyway) and thus the Drake Search Engine became the sole competing mega-Corporation.
To counter their move, the Everest Corp. bought out all TV, print, and social media giants like Twitter and Facebook so that they could not only control their public messaging, but they could also harvest the data they’d collected on every individual for nearly thirty years. Maybe the Drake Search Engine was Everest’s sole competition, but Drake could never beat Everest when it was able to control every Drake employee’s personal data, including that of its own CEO. Hell, until relatively recently, he and his family probably utilized Jacquie in their own home and office.
No one, not in their wildest dreams, would have ever guessed that one day, Everest.com and its artificial intelligence-powered, consumer-centric shopping and search engine experience, would be big enough and powerful enough to quietly assume control of the entire country, and now, the planet. It would have seemed like the stuff of science fiction. But while all this was happening, slowly but surely, right in front of our eyes, we chose to ignore it.
Who knows, I silently whisper to myself, as I feel my body drifting off to another place far more peaceful than this one. Maybe this life is but a dream.
His hand running up my leg wakes me from a sound sleep. His fingertips caressing my ass, then going up my back, tickling my sensitive skin, causes the blood in my veins to go from warm to hot. I’m hardly awake, and already I can feel how soaked I am. I’m conflicted, because I love it when Tony touches me. Knowing we are together again after all these years makes me the happiest girl on Earth. But then the earth isn’t what it was back when we were still in high school. The earth and all the billions of people who occupy it have become slaves of the Everest Corporation whether they know it or not.
I don’t want to think about any of that right now. Right now, I just want to concentrate on Tony’s touch. The sensation of his hands on my body. The warmth of his body pressed against my back and my ass. His sex hard and swelled and wanting me. I push back against him, encouraging him to enter me from behind without saying a word. Together, we begin to move one with the other, like we’re not two people but the same person. We start slow, as though we both wish to make the moment last forever. We don’t ever want to be apart again. We wish for it to always be like this, where he is me and I am him and our world is no bigger than the two of us alone.
But then we begin to move faster and faster still. Our bodies tremble and the entire earth shakes along with it. I don’t realize I’m screaming until I feel my lungs
burning, and I gasp for air. Our bodies clash violently but also sweetly and lovingly. I take hold of his hands and feel my fingernails digging into his palms. When I can’t possibly hold it in anymore and I release, my scream becomes a shriek and he goes even faster, harder, if that’s at all possible, until he, too, is emptied. Then together we go slower and slower until we stop entirely, and simply hold one another, never letting go.
Big tears fall, and my sweat covered body feels like it’s melting into the bed. Tony wipes away the tears gently with his fingertips. He whispers “Shhh, shhh,” in my ear, and even though we may not live through tonight or tomorrow, I have never felt safer in my entire life. How utterly strange and wrong it is that after finally finding one another again after more than twenty years, we may not live through the next forty-eight hours. I wonder what my mother would have to say about that. She would tell me to enjoy the moment. To be in love for as long as I can and as hard as I can during the time we have left. Who knows, maybe in the end we will survive, and we will grow old and gray together.
An electronic doorbell chimes.
“Well,” I say, “back to reality.”
“That was reality,” Tony says. “I can’t wait to experience reality again and again.”
Slipping out of bed, I throw my dress over my head and shoulders, peer through the solid metal door’s peephole. It’s the young soldier again. He’s got his hands full with two separate green Drake.com satchels. Opening the door, I let him in.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says sheepishly while placing the stuff he’s carrying onto the table by the laptop and smartphones.
“Something smells pretty good,” Tony says, sitting up in bed.
“Room service, Mr. Smart,” Young Soldier says while unzipping the first bag, and setting a couple Tupperware containers onto the table. “Hope you like spaghetti and meatballs courtesy of our five-star chow hall.”
“And some red wine?” Tony asks.
“How about a nice bottle of 2028 vintage spring water,” Young Soldier says. “There’s some desert, too. Good old apple pie wrapped in appetizing Saran Wrap.”
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