by Anthony Puyo
Matson got most of their bad publicity from groups such as PAC because of the heavy scrutinizing and constant negative rhetoric towards their agenda that they spewed. PAC would rally on busy corners, in front of warehouses, courthouse lobbies, government buildings, all while recording and posting these events on YouClips. They tried to keep people aware, though most didn’t seem to listen. But the fact Matson hadn’t courted above seventy percent of the population four years running, was a victory for us and a loss for Matson. So they felt they needed to put a stop to trouble maker groups such as ours. Though it has not been proven, Leonard feels Matson and its strong-arm investors have paid the Authorities to harass protesters and especially anyone from PAC.
“If it isn’t Heckle and Jeckle, how are you guys?” I say as I walk into the garage.
Leonard gives me an odd peer, getting close to me, sniffing near me. “I smell cyber junk.” Himself and scrawny, short Jake begin to laugh.
“Ha ha, very funny you two.” I take off my leather gloves, stuffing them in my wool overcoat.
“I still can’t believe it. So how does it feel?”
“I haven’t used it all that much. I just try and pretend it isn’t there.”
“Are you hooked to the mainframe?” Leonard asks.
“I was this morning. But I unhooked. I felt vulnerable. Trust me, if I could, I would take it out myself.”
“I’m sorry, dude.” Leonard says.
“Want some smoke.” Jake says, winded in voice, yellow smoke escaping from his mouth.
“I thought you’d never ask.” I grabbed and took a hit from the pipe.
Leonard smiles while grabbing it back. “Jake here, says you’ve been seeing some girl; a coworker from Matson. Why so secretive, boy?”
I exhale. “Aren’t you a sneaky one?” I say, peering at Jake who grins. I turn toward Leonard. “I know things are going to get real serious with Matson soon. Probably a little messy. And I don’t want her involved. I care for her.”
Leonard nods. “You mean she doesn’t know about us?”
“No.”
“Does she know how you feel about Matson?”
“Not really. She only knows I don’t care for the chip. Speaking of the chip, I want to meet the leaker. Can we set something up, Jake?”
“You mean the engineer? That’s what he wants to be called now. But no, man. He made it clear he won’t see anyone but me. I told him about you like wanted me to. He didn’t care. He says someone like you could get him killed. He’s a very paranoid, man.”
“I understand, but I need to see him. I think we can further our progress if I meet him. Let him know I’ve been implanted by force.”
Leonard holds the pipe in front of his face with smoke easing out. “It’s worth a try, Jake. Jason makes a good point.”
“I’ll text him, but he said under no circumstance should I ever text him before 6 p.m.”
I glance at my watch.
“Why are you doing that, why not just touch your temple like the rest of the Adamed and Eved public?”
I gaze at Leonard who says, “I’m against it too, dude, but if it’s in you, you might as well just use it.”
“We got three hours to kill. Let’s grab a drink.” I request.
“On you, right?” Leonard asks, eyes red and tight.
I nod.
“Let’s bounce. Oh, yeah!”
“Okay. What’s sixty-two thousand, three-hundred fifty-eight, multiplied by ninety-six thousand, two hundred fifteen?” Jake asks.
As fast as the tip of my finger touches my tempo, I say: five billion, nine hundred ninety-nine million, seven hundred seventy-four thousand, nine hundred seventy.
“Wow!” Jake’s mouth gapes.
Leonard with his phone calculator in hand. “Right again, man!” He laughs out loud.
“That’s fucking amazing, dude! You’re like Forest Gump.”
Leonard takes a sip of his beer. “Forest Gump? What the hell are you talking about?” he tells Jake. “Forest Gump was a dumb ass.”
“I thought he was the guy that was good with numbers.”
“Rain Man, that’s who you're thinking about.” I assert.
“Did you look that up too, Jason?” Jake asks.
“No. It’s one of my grandmother’s favorite movies.”
Leonard, lazy eyes, elbows both on the table, back facing it, says. “Jake, you are the master of hacking, but when it comes to everything else, I have to question your ability. And you should too.”
We all laugh.
The waitress strolls up with a tray in hand, picking up empty glasses. She’s a busty young twenty-something, brunette, large lips.
“Hey, guys, can I get you another?” She says.
“One more for me won’t hurt.” I answer.
“Make that three, sweetheart.” Leonard spouts, giving a wink in the process. When she walks away he turns to me. “Is the girl you're seeing as sweet as that?”
“To each man a treasure is what he desires.” I reply.
“Are you saying she ugly? Because that gibberish you just said sounded like code for ugly.”
Jake nearly spits out his last drink in a chuckle.
I grin. “No. She’s beautiful. Inside and out. She’s what I want. So she’s treasure to me, Leonard. What anyone else thinks, good or bad, it doesn’t matter, because I’ve made up my mind.”
“Well isn’t that just poetic, motherfucker?” He gives a lust stare towards our waitress who’s coming our way. “I need some music. Jake, go put some music choices on. Some classic Marvin Gaye or something.”
“I’ll do it.” I touch my tempo, gazing at the jukebox from our table. A few seconds later some Otis Redding comes out the speakers setting the mood for the woman hunter.
“How—the hell—did you do that?” Leonard asks.
“It’s connected to internet. I was able to pay online with the chip.”
“That’s fucking cool, man.” He returned.
Just over three hours pass. Leonard is in the corner talking it up with the brunette waitress while Jake explains with exuberance to me the complex security system of the mainframe.
“Jake, this is a lovely conversation, but I think it’s time to text your guy.”
“Oh, right.” He taps his phone and does his thing. “Now we just wait. He usually responds in ten minutes.”
Just like Jake stated, almost ten minutes on the dime the text came. Surprisingly he agreed to meet with no convincing. We were to rendezvous behind an old rundown bus station just out of town, a place for petroleum hogs of nearly twenty years ago. For a second I wondered how it was for David Casper to drive those environment killing machines a decade ago.
The place is a skeleton of itself. Burnt and crumbled bricks lie on all sides of the place while some pieces managed to stay put together making an uneven wall. There are still many beams holding up what is left of ceiling areas next to partial walls. A room or two still stand mostly completed. I’m sure the unfortunate used them for a few nights stay before having to move on to avoid trouble from the authority or other wanderers.
As we walk up the low-lit curb from a flickering street light, I see the outline of a man in a round-hat in the darkness near the back of the building.
“This way.” A whisper rings out, before the figure trails behind a wall of bricks.
Jake uses his phone for light. We watch our step, lifting legs over fallen beams and other scattered junk. When we get to the back, we see two doors open in the ground. A basement. A faint yellow light beacons us and we go to where it calls.
Standing near the back wall of the room, wearing a heavy gray rain coat made of nylon, the leaker stands. He is a partially bald man with a grey and black reef of hair that went from the sides to lower back of his head. His nose is pointy, small lips, small eyes with puffed skin underneath. The man appeared high strung on energy but very tired underneath the jolt.
“This is the one who works at Matson?” he asks. He gazes be
hind us suspicious like, watching Leonard trail in. “Is he with you too?”
Jake looks back, “Yes. He is.” He talks with a sort of gentleness as if not trying to disturb the leaker.
“Hey, you, close those doors. Please.” The man says to Leonard.
Leonard, careless in face, does as told.
“Yes, I am the one who works for Matson.” I say.
The man slowly nods with a scrutinizing gaze. He pulls a cancer stick from his coat.
I continue. “My name is Jason. I’m an accountant there.”
“Yes, yes, I understand. What is it that you want? I’ve already given your organization what I have.”
“I wanted to know what you know about the Thin Chip.”
“It’s not removable, if that’s what you want to know. I’m sorry they put it in you. Such potential in it.” He says, shaking his head, then taking a puff of his cigarette.
“I understand that part. What I want to know, is why this and the mainframe were rolled out together? To launch two revolutionary products at once is not common in the technology business. Why not wait for one after the other and strengthen their grip on the market.”
“Did you not read the documents I gave you? They are going to give it away for free with the help of the government. When this goes down there will be no market, they will own it all. They’re going to globalize this product. Quickly.”
“I understand. However, that’s not a crime. Do you have anything that can prove there is bad intention there? A recording from your chip? You are chipped, right?”
“I am.”
He paces nervously. I feel he’s holding back. The burden and fear I’m sure is the cause of it. But I need to extract what I can.
He continues. “These chips are capable of many things—as you will see. I can’t risk giving anything from my memories. But I tell you the experiments my team did with the chip were not for good use. And just the thought of this being forced on the public. What do you think they will do with people who refuse? You should know. They forced it upon you. And do you actually believe I’d be here risking my life if there was something nefarious going on here? If you got Adamed by force of employment, do you believe they’re not that serious about their plan? What’s good for the goose, is good for the gander. That’s how the saying goes, isn’t it?”
He makes a good point. They had no problem chipping me. Phil made it clear that he and Matson were protecting the company's interest.
“Why do they want to force it on people?” I badger.
He stomps on his half-smoked cigarette, agitated in demeanor. “What the hell is wrong with you guys, aren’t you the conspiracists.”
“They want to watch us?”
“That’s part of it. But I envision much worse. Like I said, the chip can do many things. Haven’t you noticed the war on guns hasn’t exactly went the way the government thought it would. Maybe this is a way to go around that issue. They could find anyone they wanted at any time, once they’re chipped and logged on. Perhaps they will even know what people are up to. Control. Undeterred control.”
“I hear a lot of theories, but no evidence to support the claims.”
He grunts. Rubbing both sides of his head with his palms.
“Can you say why gun control is so important to them? We have our ideas, but what’s your take?” I ask.
“Kid, what do you think this is, a fucking history lesson? A casual fucking conversation you have with you buddies about the newest and latest conspiracies trends? It’s always been about instituting totalitarianism. I thought that’s what your group believed in. That’s why I came to you guys. I never believed. But after seeing the type of . . . The things Matson is working on. If they know your thoughts, they could find you, root you out of society. Groups like yours won’t stand a chance. They will know what you're planning. I’ve said too much. This is too big for you. Too fucking big for your group. Maybe we should all come to the realization that the world will change in less than three days with this announcement Matson is about to give. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”
The man crushes his cigarette. He seems very agitated, so I change the subject.
“My friend here is a very good hacker. He could not find anything on Phil Balock. Do you know who he is?”
The engineer shakes his head, pulling another cigarette. “He’s a fucking maniac. Hired by DARPA, like me. That’s why you can’t find anything on him. His clearance is insanely high. I’m sure he’s not in any books.”
“The Defense of Advanced Research Projects Agency?”
“Yes.”
“That’s interesting. I take it Matson made a mistake then. Because he’s on our payroll. What is your role in this?”
“We helped make specific parts and coding for the Thin Chip as well as the mainframe. But I can’t say much more than that. They don’t tell us everything, you know? We’re there to build their visions, that’s all. But be careful of Phil. He’s DARPA’s whip master more than anything else. He doesn’t talk much during meetings, he doesn’t propose any ideas, all he does is watch us all in the vault. The only one he really talks to is Professor Landon, Matson’s chief engineer, and Michael Scarp, your boss.”
“The vault?”
The man begins to rub his face. “I’ve said too much. He’s going to know I talked to you people.” He tosses his cigarette. “I have to get going.” He walks past us stiffly in a hurry.
“Wait?” I bark with my head over my shoulder but not able to see him. “You came to us even though you feel there is not much we can do. Why then?”
I hear his breath of a sigh and the disappointment that embodies it. “Because sometimes we engineers forget where we are. Most of the time we just use our gifts of building, and don’t think of the consequences of what we’re creating. But sometimes we wake up from our constant singular train of thought, and we see what we’ve done. We see the future of man through our creations. Sometimes the bad prospects outshine the good intentions.”
It takes a moment before I hear his footsteps tap up the wooden steps. I believe he said something that even made himself give pause to thought.
Over the Hudson I gaze down at the water and all the neon lighted boats. The large city in the distant is lit up nicely as well. Many drones fly over, and at least a third are those of the authority searching for Casper.
On the side of the large Trade building, a lighted picture of the man’s husky face showed with the words: Dangerous gunman on the loose. It made me think. If Casper had a chip they would have found him by now. It was a good advertising piece to as why we all needed to be implanted. But that kind of sales pitch never worked in the past. People would not give their privacy even to be so called safe. I wouldn’t. There are a lot of monsters in the world, however, I always felt those with extraordinary amounts of power and wealth who sit in leather chairs in the white buildings of the capital, the ones who make law and control the financial system that we are all beholden to, are the most feared monsters of all.
There’s got to be something I can do to help the situation. I think of Myra. I know she needs comforting. I miss her. If the world wasn’t so unstable . . .
She could help me. Her father is the creator of Matson. She could find out what’s the reason for this accelerated process that will be unleashed in two days. But I would have to tell her everything. I haven’t and don’t want to get her involved. But if I don’t tell her, we would be living a lie. How long would that last? If she ever found out, she would most likely leave me for being untruthful. My truth is like a knife embedded in the heart. To get it out would definitely do some harm. But if there was knife in your heart, it would certainly need to be pulled out. I have to come clean to her if we are ever to have a chance.
I connect to the mainframe, something I don’t want to do. All I had to do is think of her. And like a rush of electricity, I feel her. She’s in her apartment, curled on the bed, listening to soft music, thinking of me. Unlike me, she
doesn’t hold anything back. Every door is open if I want to walk in.
“You’re coming,” she says.
“Yes.” I can literally feel the tears on her cheeks. “I’ll open up to you when I see you.”
She sits up. “I miss you.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
7
She sits on her soft, black leather couch, dressed in a flowery see through blouse and black jeans. Her red hair magnifies in color over her pale white makeup.
“What is it that you seemed so stressed to relay to me.” She asks.
I wanted to hug her, give her a kiss, but I can’t. This is all very hard for me. So instead I pace the room, settling by the window. I peer down from the fifth story condo. I notice an arm covered in a suit sleeve resting on the door-window frame of a dark, sleek vehicle parked under a street light.
I begin to talk as gaze further out. “I wanted to tell you some things that may come across as disturbing to you.”
I hear her stand and take a few steps towards me. “Okay.”
“I didn’t get this chip on my own free will. It was forced upon me.”
“What?! By who?”
I turn towards her, seeing her arms crossed, hair to one side of her face. “By Matson.” I reply.
“I don’t understand.”
“Michael gave me an ultimatum. It was either I get it or they would fire me.”
The confusion rested in her comfortably, it did not want to leave. Not without questions.
She steps closer to me, an arm distance between us. “I know you’re totally against chip technology, which leads me to wonder why you didn’t just quit.”