by Jay Klages
Owens continued. “We now expect Guardian Jeffries to be a visible leader in expanding our sphere of influence, upholding our Tenets of Knowledge, Truth, and Trust. Helping us create strong media campaigns that carry a convincing message for domestic strength and environmental protection. We’ve added his initials to the Chapter Founders Wall and now, Guardian Jeffries, I ask that you come to the podium.”
More applause followed, accompanied by shouts and whistles. Owens shook his hand and gave him a long envelope.
“In providing your promised exit bonus, and wishing you Godspeed, we ask that at this time you turn in your badge. Following this last meal among your friends, you’ll be escorted to the airport for your flight back home.”
Kade glanced around and saw the smiles on people’s faces. These look like willing participants. And their loyalty is lucrative, if the bonus payment is any indication.
After Jeffries handed over his security badge and exchanged a few inaudible personal words, Owens gave him a wink and Jeffries stepped down.
“I’d also like to introduce a new Chapter Associate today,” Owens said. “Normally, we’d announce the Associate and then the Sentry who helped recruit the new candidate member. But this situation is a little different, so we’re going to do the reverse. If I could have Guardian Constantino stand, please.”
Kade recognized the guy who stood up. Constantino was a few inches taller than him and easy to spot with his mop of blond hair. He had a matching outfit, gray top and bottom. Everyone at Constantino’s table had the same. It must be a table of Guardians. The Guardians in gray.
Owens pointed toward Kade’s table, palm up.
“And if I could now have Candidate Sims stand and come to the podium please.”
Kade walked over while Owens continued.
“Guardian Constantino found our new candidate near the vicinity of his wrecked car—an unfortunate accident during his summer vacation. After several rounds of discussion with our executive team, we determined that he had the skills and intelligence required to be considered for Chapter Associate. So I have officially approved him as an Associate, effective today, and look forward to monitoring his progress on this journey with us. My friends, may I introduce to you, and please welcome, Associate Sims.”
Upbeat applause filled the room again. Kade stepped up to the podium and the words MARSHALL OWENS appeared in the upper-right side of his vision. He had a strong handshake. The profile photo he’d seen during the operation prep hadn’t revealed the depth of Owens’s intense, watery brown eyes accompanying the smile. He looked fit and right about six feet tall. Kade remembered from the briefing that Owens claimed to be part Chinook, a federally unrecognized Native American tribe that had inhabited the Pacific Northwest and now numbered fewer than two thousand.
Owens handed him a bright blue metallic badge and a small aluminum case for it.
“Congratulations, Associate Sims,” he said to more applause, then moved away from the microphone and added, “I’ll chat with you afterward,” followed by a forceful pat on the shoulder.
A black-uniformed Sentry at the podium motioned for Kade to return to his seat. When he got there, his table clapped for him until he sat down. Owens spoke a few more words and was followed by a mix of current music, none of the stuff that Kade usually listened to.
Kade made eye contact with the guy sitting in the middle on the opposite side of the table. He had black hair and a long, angular face, milky blue eyes and a goatee on his clefted chin.
“Congratulations, Kade. I’m Walter.”
“Hi, Walter.” Kade gave an awkward half-wave before the words WALTER LEFEAR appeared in his vision-view. He then looked down at his lap. The blue badge in his hand had SIMS etched in the front with the stick-figure evergreen tree underneath it. It had to be the actual security badge, and he had to admit, it was cool looking.
Inside the badge case were two additional blue fabric tree-logo patches and two nametapes with SIMS on the front. Both had Velcro backs so they could be stuck on the front of his shirts.
“The hot rumor is,” Walter said, “that since Guardian Jeffries is leaving, you’re on the fast track to take his place.”
Kade shook his head and exhaled in a puff.
“I really wouldn’t know. Just got here and trying to sip from the fire hose.”
“Yeah,” Daniel added. “Whatever the secret selection process is, it looks like you’ve got what they’re looking for. Congrats.”
So it was clear that everyone at the table had been talking about him. Now an image of Jerry Lerner came to him again. Lerner had conducted a training day in which Kade watched a compilation of clips from an archive of reality TV shows, the type where contestants get voted off in one way or another. Survivor. Big Brother. The Apprentice. The Colony. With this content, Lerner applied some psychology and turned it into a useful seminar. Kade would need to work toward increased access to get the evidence he needed. Lerner said he should start by making as many loose alliances as possible. It wasn’t a “trust no one” strategy or even a “trust but verify” approach. He was going to have to trust a few people, but trust had to be temporary, Lerner said.
Kade raised his voice a bit so the others at the table could hear.
“I don’t know. I’m still trying to get my feet on the ground and understand the program better.”
“Good luck,” Lin said.
“It’s bullshit, is what it is,” the guy sitting across the table to the far right said. He had dark brown hair tinged with red and his eyes were agitated. “Sims, don’t let everyone at this table fool you. They’re only kissing your ass because Pierce told us all to play nice. But no one gives two shits about you. I’m just the only one who has the balls to say it to your face. And I haven’t been here for a year and a half to see some slacker slide in here and butt in line in front of me.”
“Easy, Hank,” Daniel said.
Kade glanced up at Hank and ascertained he wasn’t joking. Ignore for now and keep eating. He felt his mind getting a bit sharper despite the beers. At least his hunger wasn’t distracting him anymore.
His mission was designed to bring down all of the people around him. With about three hundred in the room now, and another five hundred that had supposedly returned to the “outside” world, according to Owens, this wasn’t a group to underestimate. Even a handful of determined people could create a ton of damage. Oklahoma City. 9/11. Suicide bombers in Africa, Iraq, Afghanistan. The Boston Marathon. So many other “near-miss” attacks along the way.
“Do you hear me, Sims?” the guy named Hank said louder. “There’s no fucking way a newbie is going to make it in before me. I’ll talk to the leadership myself. Or hell, maybe you’ll just disappear from consideration.”
Kade put down his fork, and looked straight at Hank. HANK STANFIELD. Red splotches marked Hank’s face and the veins in his neck bulged. He looked a little sick or something. Some kind of bad allergic reaction? Or maybe he was just drunk.
“Shut the fuck up,” Kade said to him, a little surprised those words came out of his mouth. He then pulled one of the pies toward him from the center of the table. Apple with cinnamon and a lattice of crust on the top. It smelled like heaven. He reached for the pie knife, but Hank grabbed it first and stood up.
“What did you say?” Hank stood up and walked behind Walter, then Daniel, around the table toward Kade’s left. Kade wasn’t concerned about the wide, dull pie knife in Hank’s left hand. It was the steak knife he spotted in his right. Serrated with a sharp point.
Kade stood and turned left to square up with Hank, who stopped two feet away, holding the steak knife at waist level. Sized up in an instant, Hank was an inch shorter than Kade, but had a thick frame and a powerful, confident way of moving. Kade stared into his light blue eyes, keeping the knife in his peripheral vision below.
“What did you say, Sims?” Hank repeated.
Kade’s heart rate jumped. He felt a twinge across his skin, his pores opening
from the adrenaline. But he also felt a calm, intangible sense of certainty. He kept looking at Hank’s eyes. He focused on their every movement, their dilation, their signals, like he had never observed these details before in his life. Yes, Hank’s face looked like a rabid dog in this moment, but somehow his eyes said this dog wouldn’t bite, at least this time. Kade was pretty damn sure of it.
“Hey, buddy, sit down and relax,” Kade said.
Hank stared at him a few more seconds, then made a sudden move with his arm that made him flinch. But it was Hank’s left hand, the one with the pie knife, offering it handle first. Kade took it. Hank tossed the steak knife on the table.
Hank turned and walked behind him, behind Lin, continuing a counterclockwise loop around the table, but collapsed on the floor just before making it back to his seat.
“Hank? Are you okay?” the girl sitting to Lin’s right said as she got up and knelt over him. Kade just saw a dark brown ponytail and hair with a few highlights in it. Across the table, Daniel stood, wearing an expression that said he didn’t know what the hell was going on either.
Two Sentries appeared within seconds, grabbing Hank under his armpits and pulling him off the ground. Then one switched to holding his ankles, and they carried him out of the area. Everyone at the table was standing up now.
“Uh, does he always act like that?” Kade asked Lin. Her name appeared in his vision-view as LIN SOON.
“Not really,” she said. “He’s kind of a hothead, but I think he’s been much worse these last few weeks.”
Two more Sentries appeared to the left, and the closest guy placed a hand on Kade’s shoulder.
“Sims, Mr. Owens would like to meet with you now.”
CHAPTER 16
Saturday, June 15
8:13 p.m. (PDT)
AgriteX
The Sentries led Kade to the executive wing, where a perky receptionist buzzed the group through a secure door and beyond another layer of access. They passed two small meeting rooms before arriving at an open door bearing the placard Marshall Owens, Chief Executive Officer. The receptionist asked the Sentries to wait outside while she took Kade into a large sitting room.
The decor was similar to Pierce’s office but with some added luxury. A long, glass-topped conference table took up half the room, with mesh ergonomic office chairs pushed up against it. A large flat-screen TV was affixed to the wall at the far end of the table and displayed a swirl of changing, abstract color. One of the side walls featured a mural of a foggy lake with pairs of broken wood pilings extending into it. The other side of the room was informally laid out. Two black leather couches and matching chairs sat on a thick Berber-style carpet.
The receptionist left the room and Kade stood in place, looking above the mantel of the large gas fireplace made of round boulders. There was a long, crude wooden stick with a ringed end mounted up there.
“Why am I not surprised you found the lacrosse stick?” Marshall Owens said, emerging from a vault door on the opposite side of the room with a large smile on his face. Again, the MARSHALL OWENS notification appeared in Kade’s sight. He hoped there was a program option to turn that feature off.
“Hello, Mr. Owens.” Kade tried to smile naturally.
“Hello, Associate Sims,” Owens said and shook his hand. “You know the Chinook and Clatsop tribes played the game on the lower Columbia.” Owens pulled the stick off the wall and handed it to Kade. “How’s that for old school?”
“That’s pretty cool.”
“HR informed me you were an excellent player in college.”
I never talked to HR.
“Thanks. It’s a Division III program, but it was an honor to play for MIT. Lots of fun.”
“That’s remarkable. I never played myself.” Marshall replaced the stick in its mount. “Let’s sit down by the fire, shall we?”
Kade wished Jerry Lerner could have heard the lacrosse comment. Owens took a seat on one of the couches and Kade sat on the other, facing him. Owens was holding a thin file folder.
“Didn’t we get you some street shoes?” Owens asked while looking at Kade’s hiking boots.
“Oh, those didn’t fit at all—I’m a size twelve E. But it’s no big deal, these are comfy.”
Owens nodded like that made sense.
“Well, let me start by saying that I’ve been monitoring your progress to date, and I’m pleased. From both a personality and skill perspective, you have a great foundation. Now that you’ve been made part of the Chapter family, let me give you an idea of what to expect in the coming weeks. Do you have any initial questions or thoughts?”
“A few, yes.”
He remembered Lerner’s warning in case he ever had a face-to-face meeting like this. Owens had several degrees up to the PhD level in electrical engineering, computer science, and human-computer interaction. He’d been involved with DARPA contracts at the University of Washington, and it was believed, but never proven, that he stole DARPA technology, including algorithms for the IR lie detection project so he could later construct his own detector. Owens also had significant army experience in Special Forces. So, Lerner told him, don’t try to bullshit Owens in those areas.
“Okay, shoot.” Owens sat forward on the couch, elbows on his knees and hands clasped.
“When I was questioned, I was beaten. The guy who did it was named Ignaty. He threatened my sister. I need to know she won’t be touched, ever.”
Owens glanced at the fire.
“I apologize for the questioning, and Ignaty was reprimanded for his behavior. You have my personal promise she will be left alone. We take security very seriously, but that crossed the line, and I’m sorry.”
Kade nodded. “Is Hank Stanfield going to be okay?”
Owens seemed surprised at this question.
“Yes, I’m sure he will be.”
There was an uncomfortable silence, so Kade filled it.
“I admit I’m totally shell-shocked by this whole experience. The computer chipset, the medical procedure to put it there, and not having a choice about it.”
Owens nodded. “I understand.”
“But what’s done is done. And now I have to go on faith. Everyone’s told me this is an opportunity of a lifetime, but I need to make a couple of phone calls to a family contact and my current boss to let them know I’m committed to a new company. And maybe call a friend who can deal with my apartment and the stuff in it for me.”
“Absolutely,” Owens said. “We’ll make sure you get your calls in tomorrow. Just know that all calls are monitored or recorded due to the sensitivity of our intellectual property. We also do random Verax reviews.”
Kade nodded. “Okay. How about my rental car? I think Budget will probably start wondering where it is pretty soon, if they haven’t already.”
“That car has already been removed from Budget’s inventory system and also from the database for the Oregon Department of Transportation. Your rented camping gear was also paid for. These are minor issues.”
“Wow.”
Owens smiled.
“Any other questions?”
“That’s it for now.”
“Good. Mr. Sims, you’ve responded well to what we call our G protocol. It’s our newest process for providing select members with a dual neural chipset combined with a neuron growth stimulant. We’ve been refining the protocol for the last three years, but even still, we consider it a beta product. With your background, I don’t need to tell you what beta means.”
“A limited release, not fully functional.” And it can still have a lot of bugs.
“Right. Our first-generation system, Z protocol, which involves a single neural chip, has been the standard for our members for over five years. I have the Z product myself, and unfortunately, anyone with the Z protocol can’t upgrade to G, or I would’ve already done it.”
Kade was now thinking about having buggy computer hardware and software inside his head. Forget the classic Microsoft Windows “blue screen of death
” that could crash a computer. If the Chapter’s system crashed, it sounded like it might be very hazardous to his health. He needed to learn more about what he was dealing with here.
“What’s the operating system?” Kade asked.
“I developed the original firmware and operating system for the Z chip and Z program, and the initial operating system for our Chapter network, which connects all of our members securely. Since then, much more talented computer scientists than I have taken over for me in furthering the development of the G protocol and launching other projects.”
“The technology is incredible.”
“Thank you. We’re very proud of what we’ve done. You’re going to receive a customized curriculum at an aggressive pace, so that hopefully you’ll be ready to fill a place on our software team in less than a year. Or in some other role where we can best deploy your skills.”
“I can’t wait to get started.”
“You’ll start tomorrow,” Owens said. “You’ll begin receiving a daily download of software code updates, instructions, and personalized initiatives. We call this the Daily Chapter. In parallel, you’ll go to HR and be fully processed as a regular employee of AgriteX. Your job title will be senior programmer, and we’ll have you working with our software that we use to track productivity in our reforestation efforts. This work is AgriteX company confidential and treated like standard business. It will occupy about a quarter of your time. The balance will be on training and other initiatives that will become evident over the next few months.”
“HR processing,” Kade said with a trace of concern. “I didn’t think about that.”
“About what?”
Kade took a good pause, crumpled his brow, and recalled a practiced line.
“The one thing I didn’t like about Home Depot was the random piss tests. I mean, if I want to go smoke a bud with one of my friends on the weekend, who cares? I work hard enough. I don’t know if that’s a showstopper for AgriteX, as far as your policy goes.”
Owens paused like he was taking a mental note.
“There’s no drug testing for your job position,” he said. “Common sense applies about being unimpeded for work duties.”