System Seven

by Parks, Michael

  His dad wasn’t in any of the rooms nearby so he found the ICU and wandered from room to room. In one, a pale-skinned senior lay hooked up to monitors. The man’s face was blurred white like his own.

  “I won’t be going back.”

  Austin spun to see an elderly man standing behind him.

  “The old ticker just can’t handle it anymore. Just plain worn out. Funny, I sort of felt it coming, the last week or so. I didn’t want to worry Phyllis but now I regret not mentioning it.” He shook his head. “So which one are you? Banged up? What brings you here? Strange to walk through everything, isn’t it?”

  He stared into kind eyes framed with a lifetime of smiles. “Um, I’m just visiting. I’m looking for my dad.”

  “You’re from up there? Well, what the heck I’m supposed to do next? I expected a tunnel and a light and all that. Maybe my pops or ol’ Saint Pete himself, ya know? Nothing personal but this is a little disappointing.”

  Fear edged in on wonder. “Yeah, uh, I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure someone will help you soon.”

  He turned at a beeping sound. Nurses rushed into the room where the old man’s face was now visible, slack and lifeless. Turning back, he was alone. Like a dream but not quite. He left to find his dad.

  Near a turn in a hallway a strong feeling of unease set in. He sank way back, shrinking to the point it felt he might disappear, and nearly jumped when two men rounded the corner. One was Agent Morris from the previous night, the other a doctor.

  The doctor was clearly uncomfortable.

  “...won’t pretend to understand but it’s not my business to. Now, his son. A shrapnel wound. Nicked two ribs and barely missed the top of a lung...”

  He followed them at a distance, still uneasy and staying with the small feeling. It felt safer, like he didn’t exist. After a few strides, he froze: Morris’ head was blurred, pulsing, like blobs of energy pushing to escape his skull. The men rounded another corner and realization struck – they were heading back to his room.

  His eyes snapped open. Moments later a knock sounded on the door. The doctor entered followed by Morris.

  “Hello Austin, I’m Doctor Goltz. This is Special Agent Dan Morris with the FBI. If you are feeling up to it, he has a few questions for you.”

  The previous moments were so surreal he could barely think straight. He answered on instinct.

  “Not without an attorney.”

  Morris replied, “You’re not under arrest, Austin.”

  “No?” He nodded towards the officer. “Perk of being a suspect?”

  “At this point you are a person of interest.” Morris shrugged. “I can leave, but I thought you’d want to know more of what’s going on.”

  In the silence following, Dr. Goltz raised his brows, asking for Austin’s preference.

  When Austin nodded, Goltz said, “I’ll be on the floor if either of you need me.”

  The doctor left and Morris instructed the officer to leave as well. The door to the room closed. The agent approached the bed with a dissatisfied look.

  “Crazy move you pulled last night.”

  Austin checked the man’s face, half-expecting to see it blur.

  “I know what this is about. You–”

  “Of course you know.” Morris nodded, his demeanor turning cold. “It’s about hacking government computers and destroying evidence when caught. What if our men had still been upstairs? You’d be facing murder charges now. Of course, attempted murder is bad enough.”

  The words swam in a fog, freezing coherent thought. Something so important...

  “No,” he managed. “I didn’t blow up anything and you know it. I’m not a hacker, either.”

  “The handoff of the file was attempted at Café Exotico on an IBM ThinkPad belonging to either you or one Ms. Kaiya Wilson. I understand she came to visit last night. Your girlfriend, right?”

  The words chilled his core. Involving Kaiya was not okay.

  “It’s my laptop. Kaiya had nothing to do with it. She told me to delete the downloader.”

  “Do you often ignore good advice?”

  He could only stare back, wishing he hadn’t. “I used it to try and download whatever the hacker left for me. I was curious, okay? Nothing illegal about it. Just curious. I downloaded two chunks of forty, all encrypted and without a key. That means I got nothing. Do you understand? Nothing.”

  Morris continued as if he hadn’t heard. “With all the evidence we’ve accumulated, it’s looking like you were the ring leader. I’ve never seen a house so secure. All the cameras, sensors, and computers. And ringed with explosives? I think we found our man.”

  The words were paralyzing. “Why… why do this? I don’t know who sent it or what it was. I didn’t even finish the download.”

  The agent studied him. “Something tells me you still can.”

  “C’mon,” he said too quickly, “you blew up my house and every computer I own.”

  “No Austin, you blew up your house. And it appears you’re willing to blow up your future, too.” He turned for the door.

  “Wait.”

  The agent stopped.

  “It’s in the bushes. I threw it in the bushes. A laptop.”

  Morris turned back, his gaze an x-ray. “Where?”

  Even the hint of untruth might stand out. Still, he had to try.

  “Highway 80 east of Greenback.”

  The agent’s eyes seemed to ignite with tiny flecks of energy.

  Morris stepped closer. “Where exactly?”

  “Just past the onramp. A couple hundred feet maybe.”

  Morris nodded. “I see. And no other copies of the files?”

  He hesitated, wishing there were, but in doing so gave away the truth. He shook his head. “No. No copies.”

  “Uh huh.”

  With that, Morris turned and left the room.

  He let out a long breath, hoping a deal had been made but completely unsure of it. “God damn.”

  The door opened and the officer returned.

  A feeling came then, a pendulum of inevitability.

  “Austin Bakken, you have the right to remain silent...”

  Again he stared out the window. An hour’s reflection after his arrest left him feeling helpless, pissed, and still stupidly curious. Control was gone now, his choices expired. Rage smoldered at the hacker for throwing government secrets around like Molotov cocktails. And curiosity still burned at what the file contained. There were other feelings. Fear. Guilt. Regret. Embarrassment. He’d fucked up... everything. All without knowing what for.

  A knock sounded at the door. It opened and a man in jeans with a baseball cap and gray sideburns stepped in. He showed the officer a badge.

  “Mac Payant, federal agent. I need a few minutes alone with Mr. Bakken.”

  The officer stood and examined the badge before nodding and heading out.

  The agent stopped at the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling, Austin?”

  “Like shit. Who are you?”

  “Friend of your dad’s.”

  “Yeah? Here to play the good cop?”

  “You’ve met a bad cop?”

  The guy seemed sincere. “Where is he?”

  “In custody. He called and said you were in trouble. He wants you to tell me what happened. What really happened.”

  “When did he call?”

  “Couple of hours ago.”

  “Where was he?”

  “He didn’t say.” At Austin’s look, he stepped forward to the edge of the bed and said in a low voice, “Look, shit’s going down. I need as much from you as quick as I can if I’m going to help either of you. What I can’t give you on a plate is a reason to trust me. Brent and I go way back. Before your mom died. You gotta give me what you can before things switch up.”

  “You think they will?”

  “I’d say they could.”

  Mac was younger than his dad but not by much. He spoke and acted with an air of protective authority. Austin wanted to
trust the guy but something told him he shouldn’t, so he lied when he got to the part about ditching the laptop, just as he had to Agent Morris. It was off highway 50, not highway 80.

  “So you tried to download the file and next thing you know people are breaking into your house?”

  “Yes. And planting explosives, apparently.”

  Gray-blue eyes pinned Austin. “The truth, now. Were you hacking? To any extent?”

  “Absolutely not. This is all about the hacker and his file.”

  Mac weighed him in a way that reminded him of Morris. The agent asked, “Do you still believe in aliens and telepathy and all that?”

  Austin shrugged, wondering how he knew to ask. “Anything’s possible. What do we really know?”

  “Okay. Keep cool while I look into things. And no more talking. I’ll arrange for an attorney as soon as I’ve found your dad. We’ll get you out on bail if possible. I’ll keep you posted.” He turned to go.

  “Do me a favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Call my girlfriend and tell her they arrested me. Ask her to talk to her mom.”

  He’d asked Fuku Wilson for help. The ego burn was nothing compared to the fire of desperation. Agent Payant said he’d try to help. Beyond that, everything seemed stacked against him. Like a game of Jenga, the blocks had begun to fall and there was no way to stop them.

  Lunch time brought another wave of pain. Painkillers helped. He ate half a sandwich, his appetite poor. Calls were being blocked. The nurse said over a dozen had come in, friends and co-workers eager to know what had happened. If Payant or Fuku were going to help it would be in the form of an attorney showing up at the door.

  By dinner time, one hadn’t arrived.

  Review of the last two days didn’t leave much room for hope. Digital evidence could be fabricated in such a way as to leave a jury no choice but to convict. Even without the explosion and related charges, the hacking could be leveraged to put him away for years. Freedom would be lost. The future destroyed.

  Before bed he complained of pain and got another dose. Anything to numb the pain of knowing how totally fucked he was.

  A pat on the face.

  Another one, less gentle. Urgent.

  “Wake up, Austin.”

  Dreams fled and the dim night light revealed a nurse at his side. A glance at the officer saw him dozing, head to one side.

  “Let’s go.” She pulled back the sheets and guided his legs from the bed. “Not a word, please. Put these on.”

  Groggy from the pain meds, he thought of Mac Payant and wondered if he’d arranged an escape. Things were bad, so it made sense. She helped him into nursing scrub and clipped a badge onto his shirt pocket. The shoes were big but everything else fit okay.

  “Count to thirty. Turn left out the door and you’ll see me. Follow at a distance. You are Timothy Schrader. Tim Schrader. You work here but are going off-shift. We’ll head downstairs and you’ll leave by the side exit. Once outside, head to the left, towards the parking lot. Do you understand?”

  He did but only just. Questions died on his lips when she abruptly left the room. Thirty seconds. He took a few steps towards the door. Confusion circled. The only certainty was that he wanted out of custody. If this was the way...

  The officer snored lightly.

  His heart pounded. Time felt fuzzy. Thirty seconds?

  He opened the door and stepped into the hallway, as much an employee as he could imagine. The nurse’s station was empty. To the left and down a ways the nurse stood with a clipboard. She looked at him once and walked down a connecting hallway. He followed her through corridors and down a set of stairs to emerge in a staff hallway. To the left and down a hundred feet or so, a man stood leaning against a wall.

  ‘Hesitation draws attention’, his dad once said, so he strode to the right and saw the nurse standing at a computer terminal. She rose an arm as if to scratch her elbow and pointed to a hallway behind her.

  He turned into the short hall and bumped the door open to a quad between the hospital and the parking garage. Instantly grateful for the evening’s heat, he turned left as instructed and came to the sidewalk in front of the hospital. A shuttle bus slowed and stopped with its door open. The driver called out, “Going to the Med Center? Staff ride free.”

  Still afraid but grateful for the conspiracy, he strode up the steps. “Thanks.”

  Two other riders looked up at him, a man and a woman, both hospital workers. He slouched down into a seat as the shuttle started off. By the time they pulled onto the avenue, he knew they were safe and away. He moved to the seat closest to the driver.

  “So who do I thank?”

  The driver shook his head. “What do you mean?”

  He looked back at the passengers. They were oblivious. His heart thundered. Was he supposed to get on the shuttle? Or had he screwed up?

  “Uh, never mind. How far to the medical center?”

  The driver gave him an appraising look. “This time of morning, ‘bout twenty minutes.”

  He must’ve screwed up, gotten on the shuttle instead of waiting to be picked up. Did they know? He thought of Kaiya. Finding a phone to call her was no good now. Getting her involved would prove her mother completely right. What a cluster fuck. So unreal, so vividly messed up. He took a deep breath. Everything revolved around the hacker’s file – it had started this and now was his only asset, if he could just reach it. In that moment it became his first and only priority.

  “Hey, could you let me off up here at this gas station? I forgot some really important paperwork. I can hike back, no problem.”

  The driver didn’t respond.

  “Uh, I need to get off the bus. Right here, please?” The gas station came and went.

  Austin looked back. The male nurse stared out the window and the woman used her phone, both still oblivious. He suddenly felt black and white, invisible like in a scene from the Twilight Zone.

  Screw this.

  He stood and stepped towards the driver. “Look, buddy,” he leaned forward, “I need to get off this bus, so you need to pull over right now. Right now.”

  The driver ignored him. Anger mixed with panic. He balled a fist.

  “Are you–”

  – an audible click and a sting – and the world went berserk. Pain exploded from his lower back, radiating outward with savage intensity.

  “Aaah maaah! – aahhhhh!” He fell and writhed in the aisle. The male nurse, an Asian man, held a taser gun. Its electrode wires streamed into him. The woman took the gun.

  “Move and I’ll zap you again.”

  The male handcuffed his hands behind his back and sat him upright in the aisle, against a seat. The taser’s electrodes were neatly hooked to the cuffs.

  He tried recovering but was tapped out. He’d always wondered what a taser blast felt like. To know sucked. He asked, “Who the hell are you?”

  They remained silent and kept their eyes on him.

  He spat blood from a gnashed tongue. “I never finished downloading it. Do you hear me? I didn’t download it. I don’t know anything.”

  They continued to ignore him. Panic spiked, rivaling the intensity of the pain of a moment ago.

  The shuttle turned onto side streets before entering the parking lot of an office building. The driver pulled under the canopy of an oak tree next to a black van with darkened windows. They transferred vehicles. Before the van’s door closed, Austin saw the driver set off a smoke bomb in the shuttle bus.

  “Fogging for roaches?” he asked, trying for a response. They ignored him. Anxiety pressed in as firmly as the handcuffs.

  The driver climbed in and pulled a divider shut. Puck lights in the ceiling lit up the interior. The van’s windows were actually opaque, not just dark. For more than an hour they drove in silence, getting on and off the freeway. The smell of wood smoke grew stronger and his ears compressed and eventually popped. They were at least in the foothills.

  When the van finally parked, th
e Asian produced a thick black band bracelet and clamped it around Austin’s right ankle. He removed the handcuffs.

  “Don’t get stupid. The taser is nothing compared to this.”

  The side door slid open to reveal a garage interior and a luxury sedan.

  Asian Man pulled him forward.

  Down a utility corridor and into a large foyer, they ascended a sweeping set of stairs and emerged in the large entertaining area of an executive-style log home. Vaulted ceilings rested on rock walls. He’d been right about the location in the foothills. Leather chairs and couches faced a bay of picture windows showing the lights of the Sacramento Valley beyond.

  The woman disappeared down a hall. A stately older man attended an oak and glass-featured bar while the driver took a stool. Asian Man remained positioned between Austin and the others at all times.

  The older man addressed him with an English accent.

  “Greetings, Mr. Bakken. I’m Edward. There is much to discuss. Sit down, be at ease. Can I make you a drink?”

  Far from relaxed, fear rode the edge of every thought. This was danger, a dunk into madness.

  “No thanks.”

  He sat. Adrenaline must have burned the pain meds away because his shoulder ached. Legs crossed, he checked the ankle bracelet. Big enough for a beefy battery inside, enough to deliver a major shock. No doubt a GPS component, too. His only bargaining chip was the laptop unless they used torture. The bracelet might be for that, too. He tapped it with a fingernail.

  Edward finished making a drink at the bar and moved around to a chair near the windows. Asian Man sat, situated to intercept, more weapon than human.

  “Your shoulder is causing you discomfort. Would you like something for it?”

  Anger and fear fumbled ahead of tact. “You know I didn’t download the file. Why blow up my house? Why all this shit?”

  Edward returned his gaze, measuring. The woman hadn’t returned and the driver might as well have been wallpaper, at the bar studying his phone.

  Awkward silence drew long. The ice in his glass shifted.

  Edward said, “We didn’t blow up your house.”

  “You’re not with Morris.”