by Anne Rasico
Brooklyn was stunned and speechless. She realized that Lars was much smarter than Trent had given him credit for. His paranoia was definitely understandable; he knew more about what was going on than most people. She felt even more compelled to do something now.
“Do you know who controls the chips?” Brooklyn asked.
“They were created by the department of Homeland Security. They’ve now outsourced their dirty work to a company called ICS, Integrated Communication Systems. They monitor, design, and control every chip,” Lars explained.
“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing towards an old, orange and yellow couch in their “living room.” Brooklyn sat on the couch on the dirt floor of Lars’ small, cramped, and cluttered dwelling. The sleeping bags and blankets on the floor made Brooklyn think that he had more people than he needed living there. Their “rooms” were separated by curtains and Brooklyn could see an arsenal of weapons in the back room. These people were definitely prepared.
“I haven’t had a chance to go through all of these yet,” Lars said, dropping a crate of books, magazines, and periodicals at her feet, “I think this is all I have on microchips.” “Thanks, Lars,” Brooklyn said, grabbing the first book on top of the stack.
“Anything for you, sister. I’ll be hunting in the woods if you need me,” Lars started up the stairs.
Brooklyn scoured the mound of books for anything useful on microchips, but she did not find much. There were books on how to protect your identity from hackers who can steal your information and studies proving that the chip had caused cancer in laboratory rats.
Caleb’s cell phone rang from her pocket. “Hello?” Brooklyn said.
“Brooklyn, where the hell have you been?” Trent’s voice sounded irritated, “You know Zane has done nothing but hide in the basement all week since this crap happened with his brothers and Caleb and I have had to do all of the farm work today.”
“Well, sorry but I’ve been a little busy,” Brooklyn said, thumbing through a periodical that had slid under the couch, “I think I might be…..”
What she read made her stop in the middle of her sentence. “Brook, are you still there?” Trent said after several minutes of silence.
“We’ll talk when I get home,” she replied, hanging up the phone. “I’m going home now, Lars,” she called, snatching up the periodical, “I think I’ve got what I came for.”
“Zane Zaaaannne,” Brooklyn called running into the house.
“He’s downstairs as usual. What did you want to talk to me about?” Trent asked.
“You and Caleb come downstairs with me and I’ll tell you,” Brooklyn said. With that she darted down the basement steps. “Zane, I think you should read this,” Brooklyn exclaimed, thrusting the periodical towards him.
“What’s this?” Caleb asked, snatching it from her.
“Your name isn’t Zane,” Brooklyn said, impatiently.
“I just want to see what all the commotion is about,” Caleb said.
“Turn to page forty, then,” Brooklyn huffed.
“The article called ‘A Chipped Society’?” Caleb asked.
“Yes, read the part where it mentions Raymond Eldridge,” Brooklyn said.
“Dr. Raymond Eldridge, a scientist and former Brain and Cognitive Sciences Professor at MIT, believes that the microchip is not only an infringement upon American constitutional rights, but can produce potentially harmful results in humans, due to the amount of radio waves the chip uses to transmit signals within the body,” Caleb read.
“Ok, it’s just a section on one person’s professional opinion about the microchips. Although it’s a good argument against the chips, I really don’t get why I’m reading it,” Caleb concluded after reading the rest of the article.
“Read the last sentences of the section,” Brooklyn barked.
“Dr. Eldridge has recently left his position at MS Labs, and it has been rumored that he is now conducting research on the behavioral effects of the chip on humans at an independently funded laboratory. Eldridge has denied such rumors” Caleb read.
“Ok?” he then said, confused.
“Don’t you get it, Caleb?!” Brooklyn exclaimed, “If this man, this credible person, is studying how the chip affects people’s behavior, don’t you think he might be on to something?”
“He clearly stated in this article that he wasn’t conducting any research like that,” Caleb said.
“If you’re researching something this controversial, would you want everyone to know about it? Of course he’s going to deny it. He’s a former Brain and Cognitive Sciences teacher. You can’t tell me that someone with that kind of background isn’t interested in how the chip is affecting people,” Brooklyn said.
“Brook, if he would’ve found something concrete, don’t you think everyone would know about it by now? It would be all over the media,” Caleb argued.
“I don’t think he would go to all of the trouble of researching and then just sit on his findings,” Trent agreed. Brooklyn was frustrated and disappointed that Trent did not seem to believe she was on to something.
“Let me see that article,” Zane said, holding out his hand. The three turned around surprised, as Zane had been silently sitting at his computer.
After carefully reading the article, Zane turned back to his computer. He began looking up information on Dr. Eldridge.
“I’m having a hard time finding anything on this guy. Every web page I’ve found associated with him says it’s no longer available when I click the link,” Zane said after a few minutes.
“That doesn’t sound suspicious at all,” Brooklyn said sarcastically.
“I’m going to see if I can access the archived web pages. I should be able to download their content as a text only file,” Zane said.
“I got it! Raymond Maurice Eldridge, graduate of Yale University, former MIT professor, and independent researcher. This guy has made quite a name for himself,” Zane announced, still staring at his computer. “I don’t know guys. I think Brooklyn may have an idea here,” he said after a few minutes.
For the first time since he’d found out about his brothers joining the Army, he was thinking clearly. Brooklyn was delighted that someone was agreeing with her. “If we could just talk to this man and-”
“We can’t do that,” Zane interrupted Brooklyn, “We’ll never be able to do that because he’s dead.”
“What?!” Brooklyn exclaimed.
“He died two months ago in his home. It doesn’t say in this obituary how he died, which is odd. He was only forty-eight,” Zane said.
“Where did he live?” Brooklyn asked.
“Boise, Idaho,” Zane replied.
“Maybe he died before he could release his findings,” Brooklyn said.
“Or he never finished his research,” Zane said. “In fact, there seem to be lot of scientists from Boise who have died or disappeared recently. According to the newspapers, they all died or vanished around the same time too,” Zane added scrolling through the Boise local news articles.
Zane thought for a minute and glanced up at Brooklyn. “I think we should take a road trip,” he declared, certain she was thinking the same.
“You can’t be serious. What do you think you’re going to accomplish by going to Boise?” Caleb blasted.
“Look, I know we don’t know much about this Dr. Eldridge, but there’s a good chance he had valuable information about the chips. He may have even died because of what he knew,” Brooklyn said.
“But he’s dead! You can’t ask him anything. Do you think you can just go snooping around Boise and stumble upon your answers?” Caleb exclaimed.
“Well, do you have a better plan?” Zane retorted, “I’ve been trying like hell to think of a way to bring my brothers back home, and all you have done is whine and complain about the extra farm work you’ve had to do. Do you want to be eighty years old and still living on this farm? That’s how we’re going to end up if we sit around and let Big Brother destroy the wo
rld. All we’ve been doing is living under a damn rock. Brooklyn was right all along; we shouldn’t just live in fear and hide, especially if we have a chance to try and make things right again.”
“We all want the world to change, but going to Boise is risky. If you guys get arrested, you’re screwed,” Trent said.
“I realize it sounds crazy, but I know if we go to Boise, we won’t come back empty handed. I don’t know how I know, but I’m sure of it, and I’m not sure of anything else in this world anymore,” Brooklyn proclaimed.
“You and I can go, Brook. These two doubters can stay here,” Zane said. She nodded.
“I’ll go with you, Brook. I have a feeling you’re going to need me to keep you from doing something stupid,” Trent said reluctantly.
Chapter 4
Zane, Brooklyn, and Trent were quiet in the truck. This is insane, Trent thought. They were only an hour into their seven hour voyage to Boise, and Trent was already sick of seeing nothing but the highway, flat lands, and other cars. They had loaded the truck with extra clothes, food, water, and as many supplies as they could gather in a short amount of time. “Caleb’s going to have fun at the farm all by himself today. That’s what he deserves,” Zane laughed.
“Be nice,” Brooklyn said. Zane was still a little irritated with Caleb, but more nervous and excited about going to Boise than anything else.
“We need to have some sort of a plan once we get to Boise,” Brooklyn said, leaning forward in the back seat to face Trent and Zane.
“What kind of plan?” Zane wanted to know.
“We need to know what we’re going to do once we get there!” Brooklyn exclaimed, “If Dr. Eldridge kept secret documentation of his research or something that the government doesn’t want us to know, where do you think he would’ve kept it?”
“At the lab where he worked,” Trent replied.
“Well, there’s no way we’re getting in there; security is tight at those places. I guess our best bet is to find his old house,” Zane said.
“You’re going to break into a dead guy’s house? How do you know he doesn’t have a family still living there?” Trent retorted as if it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “His obituary didn’t say anything about a wife or kids,” Zane said.
“You guys are going to get us thrown in jail,” Trent groaned.
“No one’s going to jail. Brook, what exit do we need to take next?” Zane said.
“We can stay on this road until we get to Boise,” Brooklyn informed, looking at the map. “We’ll stop at the next rest area, and you can drive for a while,” Trent told Zane.
“That’s fine. You can take a nap and become less grumpy,” Zane remarked.
“I have good reason to be grumpy. We’re taking a very long and dangerous trip on a notion that if we go snooping through a dead scientist’s house, we might find something,” Trent grumbled.
“This could be the ground breaking trip of a lifetime,” Zane emphasized.
“Or it could be a complete waste of time and gas,” Trent retorted. Brooklyn understood why Zane was so excited about going to Boise. It had given him hope, and he was clinging to it. If this trip did turn out to be a waste of time, she was not sure how he was going to handle it.
“Well, here we are. Now what?” Trent said. They were parked on the street in an upper middle class neighborhood, staring at Dr. Eldridge’s gray and white house. It seemed surprisingly modest for a scientist. The sun was setting and the house was dark. Children were playing in the front yard next door. “We should wait until those kids go inside,” Zane said.
“They probably won’t even notice or care if we’re snooping around. They’re too busy playing,” Trent said.
“Kids are nosey and they have big mouths. Of course they will notice us,” Zane replied.
“Why don’t you follow that gravel road over there? I think there may be an alleyway behind these houses,” Brooklyn suggested.
Zane started the truck and turned onto the gravel road, and sure enough, there was an alley, but it did not run directly behind Eldridge’s house. “Just park the truck and we’ll walk. It’s not that far,” Brooklyn instructed. Zane parked the truck behind a red brick building and the three began walking. “I think those kids have gone inside. I don’t hear them anymore,” Brooklyn said when they were near the house.
“Good,” Zane replied. They walked through the gate and stood in Dr. Eldridge’s back yard, nervous and unsure of what to do next. None of them had ever broken into a house before and they never thought that they would. Brooklyn pulled three pairs of gardening gloves out of her jacket pocket and threw a pair to Zane and Trent.
“Well, this isn’t getting anything done,” Zane announced after sliding on his gloves. He marched up the steps to the back door and pulled the doorknob. As expected, it was locked, so he pulled a screw driver from his pocket and began feverishly attempting to pick the lock. After repeatedly twisting the head of the screw driver into the keyhole and accomplishing nothing, he gave up. “Stand back,” he exclaimed, making a fist.
“No, don’t punch out the glass. It’ll make too much noise,” Trent barked.
“Dammit! Where the hell did Brook go?” Zane said, frustrated.
“Look, there’s a small basement window. We could probably kick that out fairly easily,” Trent cried, pointing.
“Won’t that make a lot of noise, too?” Zane said.
“Guys, the front door is unlocked!” Brooklyn whispered, running towards them. Feeling foolish, Zane and Trent started towards the front of the house.
“Sweet mother of god,” Zane exclaimed when they entered the living room. The three looked around in astonishment.
“Somebody has trashed this place,” Brooklyn gasped. The house had been ransacked. Papers and personal items were scattered across the floor. The other rooms in the house were no different. Every drawer was open and even the mattress was overturned. “They were obviously looking for something, probably the same thing we’re looking for,” Brooklyn commented.
“And they probably found it,” Zane said, aggravated.
“Maybe it was just some desperate scavengers who knew the house was empty,” Trent proposed.
“Then why didn’t they take this?” Brooklyn said, holding up a Rolex. Trent looked at her stunned.
“Tell me now that this guy wasn’t doing controversial research,” Zane said, “I knew Brook and I were right all along, and it looks like we’re too late.”
“Maybe not,” Brooklyn said after a moment.
“Why do you say that?” Zane asked.
“Maybe they didn’t find what they were looking for. Eldridge was a smart man. If he had something he was hiding here, he may have hidden it so well, they couldn’t find it. Let’s fan out and start looking for a secret door or compartment, anything that would make a good hiding place,” Brooklyn instructed.
“This isn’t an old 18 century house. It’s unlikely that there are any secret tunnels,” Trent argued.
“Just start looking. We’ve come all this way,” Brooklyn bossed. Zane and Trent began moving the living room furniture, looking for a hidden compartment under the maple floor. “It looks like an ordinary floor to me,” Trent concluded.
“Wasn’t your uncle Gary a drug dealer?” Zane asked.
“He used to be. Why do you ask?” Trent wanted to know.
“Where did he keep his stash?” Zane said.
“He hid drugs inside his couch. That was where the police found them anyway. Why are you so curious about him? He was a loser,” Trent said.
“Think about it, man!” Zane exclaimed as he gestured towards Eldridge’s green and white sofa.
“Oh! I get it,” Trent said. He disappeared into the kitchen and emerged with a large steak knife. He slashed open the cushions as Zane and Brooklyn pulled cotton from them.
“There’s nothing in here but stuffing,” Brooklyn said after they had pulled everything out. She went to check the basement. “Gross!” she shr
ieked when she discovered it contained only mold and several large rats.
“Why are you looking through the dresser drawers? Somebody obviously beat you to it,” Trent said to Zane when they were in the master bedroom.
“They could’ve missed something,” Zane replied, dumping the contents of a drawer onto the mattress.
“I doubt it; these people were thorough,” Trent remarked as he stepped inside the walk-in closet. Every article of clothing was lying on the floor with the pockets turned inside out. They searched the air ducts, chimney, and dusty attic, but their search rendered them nothing but hopeless and dirty.
“We must be too late. These people have gotten what they came for,” Trent sighed, glancing around the dining room. Zane did not want to give up. His adrenaline was soaring.
“Let’s tear up this carpet,” he said.
“Are you crazy? We don’t have the tools for that,” Trent retorted.
“My tool box is in the truck,” Zane said.
“All you have is a couple of claw hammers and a screw driver. You can’t tear up carpeting with that!” Trent exclaimed.
While Zane and Trent stood in the dining room arguing about the carpet, Brooklyn walked around the living room, feeling along the lime green walls, looking for anything abnormal. Tap… tap… tap… tap… thud! “Guuuyys,” Brooklyn called, excitedly, “I think I found something.”
Trent and Zane ran into the living room. “What is it?” they asked.
“I think there’s something behind this wall,” Brooklyn said with her hand still on the hollow spot she had found. Zane and Trent crowded around her, studying the wall.