by Chris Ayala
Once the song was done, Janice seemed to be frozen in some type of invisible cocoon and awaiting to be awoken anew. Willie reached over, removing the headphones. She looked down to see her child dead asleep. This time, her entire face smirked. Without another word, Janice lifted the baby and gradually place him in the crib. It was like little Colin had become a doll because he didn't even budge.
"Thank you," she said, her back to him, "What's your name?"
"Willie."
"Ah. The electrical conduit. Adam talks about you like you're some kind of superhero."
Funny, because he just felt like one by saving another life. He rubbed his head and then awkwardly said, "Alright then. Nighty night."
"You like red?"
"Huh?"
Janice looked to the table at the far end of her room. Next to a photograph of the Celest family, including the First Lady that passed away several years ago, was a bottle of red wine. Perhaps drinking at this hour of night with a baby nearby seemed a bad idea, but maybe not so much. Surely the child would sleep for a while and Willie did have a weakness for Pinot Nior. "Sweet."
"He actually told me once: 'You're like Superman, baby.' And I just grunted: 'What?'. Then he says: 'Because your eyes melt me like lasers.'"
Red wine nearly shot out of Willie's nose as he covered his mouth and cackled in laughter. Janice joined him in their mutual hushed bit of drunken stupor. Baby Colin barely stirred in the last hour, even after all the noise they made. Hearing stories about her relationship with Adam seemed so amusing. The goofy college kid turned Servo Clementia assassin turned rebellion leader was still…goofy.
Being the President's daughter seemed to be a curse of reckless drinking behavior. Janice downed most of their bottle of red wine like a pro while Willie felt the effects almost immediately. Red wine brewed naturally here in the silo was quite potent. So potent that he realized that his giggling had turned to snorting, which made Janice laugh even harder.
After the laughter died, Janice must've felt guilty and quickly added, "He's sweet though. He tries. I just…haven't figured out how to tell him."
"Tell him what?"
She glanced towards the baby's crib. "Colin's eyes are blue."
The odd statement took a moment to make sense. Then Willie uttered a short, "Oh."
Before he could ask, Janice answered. "I'm not sure who the father is. But I have my suspicions. The last time I got this drunk…" she swung back the wine glass to let even the few drops at the bottom touch her tongue, then said, "…was with my adopted brother Marcel."
Again, she left Willie to speculate. Even hammered he knew what she meant. He uttered once more, "Oh."
Janice put her finger to her lips in a shhhh motion. Some of the People of Bliss, the few radical ones anyways, called Marcel Celest an "Anti-Christ". If word got out that his possible child lived in the premises, a Lynch mob would surely be pounding on this door.
"Got it," Willie nodded. "Who else you know that could be the dad?"
"Well, honestly, I guess I hadn't put much more thought in it." Janice admitted. "I'm content with Adam not being the father. He's too immature. I remember when I first met him. I was teaching my Evolutions class about a very interesting study done by a woman named Michelle Rigina. He kept giggling every time I said 'Rigina' because it sounded like 'vagina'."
Willie snorted as he laughed which made Janice giggle along with him. After it died down, he asked, "He taught Evolutions?"
"It was my way of changing the world. There's a lot to learn in adaption and evolution." Janice dug through a box underneath her bed and pulled out one of those large tin canisters of caramel popcorn. She offered, but Willie declined.
For some reason, the thought returned to him of that machine in the warehouse. A machine so powerful that it shutdown all electronic equipment without even being turned on. Curiosity got the better of Willie as he questioned, "Ever talk about technology? Like…does it help us evolve?"
Eyebrows raised quizzically, Janice shook her head as though everyone should know this. "Heavens no. The exact opposite."
"For real? How so?" Willie grabbed for some popcorn now.
"Well. Humanity has shared information for thousands of years through genes. Genes, essentially, are building blocks. Building blocks of accomplishments and mistakes. But…add technology into it and essentially we cannot make mistakes. Gadgets stop us from learning to adapt and therefore evolve."
Barely passing High School and struggling through trade school, Willie found himself easily overwhelmed by this conversation and his face must've showed it.
Janice turned the popcorn canister over and the kennels fell to the rug they sat on. Showing him the empty can, she explained, "See this? This represents humanity. Pretty plain and boring, right? This was the start of our kind. Then…" she trailed off, tossing one kernel of popcorn back in the canister at a time. "…we began to learn things. The wheel, fire, hunting, gathering, etcetera. Now, open your mouth…" Willie listened. From the can, Janice began to toss one piece of popcorn at a time for him to catch with his mouth. They laughed at the few that missed. "Then technology comes along, represented by you, of course. We start feeding it all this information. Making our lives easier, but…" she trailed off.
Holding up the tin can, Willie could clearly see it was empty. She continued, "We haven't learned anything. You get it?"
"So, it makes us…stupid?"
Sitting Indian style, Janice brushed her hair back. "We gather knowledge and we spread knowledge. In fact, we love knowledge. We learn from mistakes." She stared at her empty wine glass and glumly repeated. "We learn from our mistakes. Then we spread this new knowledge to our kin, family, children…whomever. That's how evolution works. But something more powerful has sucked us in and stupefied us. Then ended our capability to evolve."
Fascination and fear took over Willie's mind. He immediately pictured that trailer with the strange device in it. Project Syncope. Something so powerful that it shutdown all electronics. He looked down at his watch. Still dead. How addicted he became to all his gadgets and computers made him sick to his stomach. The silo had become his rehab center. Now officially sober, Willie could finally see straight. "I'm not alone."
"Huh?"
"My addiction. My addiction to all of it. I'm not alone. The Union. The Union is using this addiction to reel people in, huh?"
The sentence was stuttered and confusing, but Janice seemed to understand by giving a subtle nod. "I was there too, you know. Conversing with the Union and its propaganda. You're correct. Technology is mankind's weakness and eventually we'll all succumb to it. Because beating it is nearly improbable. I sometimes wish we could just…reboot it."
"Reboot?"
"Yeah, like start over. From the beginning. Before buildings, infrastructure, electronics, and government. Reboot the entire world."
"You mean like Spiderman?"
Janice squinted his eyes. "Like what?"
"Spiderman? The movie? They've rebooted that movie like four times. But the original was the best, you know what I'm saying?"
"Um. I guess so. Never seen them. But yes. Wouldn't it be amazing? To start a new world? And do it right this time?"
Willie imagined Project Syncope. His idea of how to create a digital detox around the world. Since his arrival at the silo, he struggled with himself if the idea did work…what it would do to the planet. What it would do to him. It would certainly reboot this planet.
"What if," Willie started, knowing that someday in the future he may regret this conversation, "What if I knew how to get rid of it?"
Janice sat silent for a moment before she giggled. "I'd say you drank more wine than I did."
"I'm serious. What if I knew a way…to end technology…on a global scale?"
Since Willie kept a relaxed face for the first time this evening, Janice ceased her laughter and stared at him. "Are you referring to cellphones?"
He nodded.
"Guns?"
H
e nodded.
"Nanos?"
He nodded.
"Internet?"
He nodded.
Janice stared, waiting for Willie to crack a smile or something. "All of it? All electricity? Everywhere?"
After a slight nod, Willie whispered. "Yeah, doll. Yep. I know how to get rid of all of it. And give the world a digital detox. We could start from the beginning."
"It's called 'Project Syncope'," Willie said the group.
Adam slid over from one side of his room to the other on his computer chair. He typed rapidly into a laptop.
Willie sat on a chair, getting that familiar feeling of a police interrogation. Above him, Janice stood at the doorway with her arms crossed. On the other end of the room, looking like he had just been woken up abruptly, which he had been, was Adam typing quickly on his computer.
"You're not going to find anything on the 'net, boss. I tried." Willie affirmed.
"This isn't the internet. It's a back door to old archives. You're talking to a bad ass hacker, remember? When I worked with Servo Clementia, I bypassed FBI, NSA, and all those other departments that use lazy initials."
After a minute, Adam stopped typing and began reading. From his view, Willie could only see strings of computer code that he knew nothing about.
Janice broke the timid air. "What did you find?"
Adam spun around. "Holy shit. He's right. It's real. Project Syncope is an explosive NEMP." Blank faces must've stared back at him because Adam sighed and explained further. "Haven't you guys seen any cool movies? Star Trek? The Matrix? EMP stands for Electronic Magnetic Pulse. NEMP is at a nuclear scale. Very powerful stuff that was banned in 2021." He moved the mouse around the screen with no intent of clicking anything. Perhaps he was fascinated by the computer and also dumbfounded by the fact that it would be obsolete when the EMP triggered. He mumbled, "This is it. This is how we bring the Union down to our level. Their guns, fleet, communications - all of it gone within a tenth of a second. It'll cover a ten mile radius."
"But," Janice asked Willie, "I thought you said it would knock out power globally?"
No one could question Adam's computer skills and no once could question Willie's power skills. "It's not the device you need to be worried about, doll," he shrugged, "it's the 98 issues scattered across the US."
It took several minutes before his words made sense to anyone in the room, but Willie knew. He'd been next to the nuclear warheads in the center of the country's largest cities. The nuclear warheads that denoted with devastating winds and killed hundreds of millions. Still glowing with internal power, those weapons of mass destruction were scattered everywhere. Willie had seen one on his travel back here to the silo. They were tall like skyscrapers and terrifying as a crumbling one. He knew, or perhaps felt, from the beginning what would happen if Project Syncope activated.
Adam asked, "Shit, he's right. The nukes will make the signal blast around like a pinball, gaining more force as it retracts. By the time it ended, the world would be without power."
Being the only uneducated person in the room made Janice physically uneasy. "I don't understand. The nukes aren't live."
"Yes, they are," Adam corrected her.
Many nights Willie had thought about this very scenario. What he experienced with the power of electricity was different than others. He knew using the nukes as amplifiers to the signal of Project Syncope would work, but he let the others figure it out for himself. Turning on the machine meant a global blackout. He kept silent until now but Janice's speech changed him. Technology's quest of world domination meant the end of humanity. Even hidden under the guise that we controlled it, eventually we wouldn't. Now, the idea settled deep into the trio's skin just like it had Willie for all these weeks since he saw Project Syncope. The world would be without electricity.
"How long would it last?" Janice asked as though she already didn't know the answer.
For someone as hooked on his gadgets as Willie was, saying goodbye to all the possibilities brought him to the verge of unexpected tears. He had been six years old when he touched the first model smartphone. The surge of information felt like a flower growing rapidly in his hand and at this moment it felt like he planned on spraying bleach on the botanical wonders. "Forever," Willie answered. "The machine fries it all out. Get what I'm saying? Everything will be gone forever." He pointed at his his palm. "My chip got friend by Project Syncope. Still dead. And we didn't even turn the device on when it happened. Imagine what that thing can do when it's activated."
Arms crossed still, but now pacing, Janice asked, "Adam, why was the project scrapped in the first place?"
After typing more vigorously into the computer, he answered, "Activating Project Syncope also shocked anyone near it. Shocked them to death actually. Killed four scientists in Zimbabwe."
"Well," Janice admitted, "it's good we have someone who can withstand electrical discharge."
Suddenly feeling like the most important man in the world, Willie sat up. It was true. Only he had the capability to activate Project Syncope and live to tell about it.
Adam leaned back, bending the already wobbly chair. "This doesn't make sense. My precognition showed electricity in the future. Well. Sort of electricity. I was on a train run on something else. Like a light source or something." Realizing neither of them would be able to comment on what was his inside his head, Adam changed the subject, "We should put this up to a vote, let the People of Bliss decide –"
"No," Janice stopped him with her hand up, "Willie is the only person in the entire world that can do this. Doesn't matter what others say, he makes the choice in the end. The whole purpose of escaping the Union was because we didn't want to be governed. And you are suggesting governing Willie? The way I see it, it's his decision."
The weight of the world fell on his shoulders. William Cooper, a lightning strike survivor from the poor side of Philly and ex-con, had to make the most important decision of humanity. He balanced the bad and the good.
The bad: technology had aided humanity. Thousands of people live thanks to the help of pacemakers, dialysis machines, and blood transfusions. Would his decision end those people? What about how far humanity had gone because of technology? Traveling to another planet or seeing outer space would certainly not be capable anymore if the world transitioned to the Dark Ages. And what about communications? Phones, internet, laptops, watches…everything would be obsolete.
The good: technology had ruined humanity. Just like Janice had said. And wars would end. Can't fight without guns or nuclear weapons. The chip wouldn't work so the Union would die with it. And the locusts, the worldwide nano killer insects, would shutdown essentially saving millions. Willie nodded to himself. His decision could save millions, if not billions.
The decision should be simple, but he still hesitated realizing his mouth had been open for nearly a minute.
Janice walked over and bent to his level. She looked so pale and sickly from this close. "Willie, I know this is a big decision but think of it this way. Humanity could reboot. Just like a computer system. Start over again. And do it right this time."
Reboot.
Willie shook his head. "Yeah, you're right. Start a reboot. We'll do it right this time. Rebuild a better system. Technology that doesn't own us, but we own it." He rubbed his hands together. "Let's do it."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
When someone gets beat to the ground, verbally and physically, they fight to rise back up. But not Nelson. His butt had gone sore from sitting on the solid ground of his cell. He'd only gotten up four times in the last three days since he watched the captain of the boat toss an innocent woman into the icy ocean, each time to use the restroom. Food collected at the doorway. A few grumbles from the crew about his lacking of eating made no difference, Nelson just wasn't hungry. Unlike his friend and colleague Declan, he never devoured his troubles down to the pit of his stomach with more food. He would starve himself, as a sort of unwarranted punishment for his actions. Af
ter Victoria's funeral, he'd lost sixteen pounds in two weeks until his advisors put him in a diet plan to beat his depression. At the time, he thought his advisors actually cared for his well being, but he was now convinced it was because the Press constantly nagged about his lethargic appearance.
How did a man like him become President? The captain was correct, Nelson lacked guts. On several occasions, as Commander-in-Chief, he should've blasted away his foes off the face of the planet. Instead, his foes blasted his country into oblivion. He did care about human life, because no one deserves to die. Especially Victoria.
Antoine's prayers aggravated him. It used to be just a morning prayer, but turned into a nightly and daytime prayer. The soldier never quit believing in hope and his god. So far, neither had gotten that cell door unlocked.
One morning, Nelson awoke to the ship surging backward. Saliva stuck from the ground to his lip as he stood, feeling his stiff neck begging for a mattress. "We stopping?" He asked, sure that Antoine was awake because the soldier never seemed to sleep.
"Yep. I can't see much, but I think there's Union choppers coming in."
The day he dreaded arrived. Marcel finally made his way out to the middle of the ocean. All these days and he never planned what to say to his son. But maybe this could spell his freedom. It was also spell the end to plans for that jet to be in his possession. In the rebellion's possession.
Crew hurried down the stairs and corridor. Whoever slid their meals through the bottom slit of the door arrived. "Captain says no new bruises. Unless you fight back, of course."
Nelson could barely lift his body, worse yet throw a punch. Either he'd been beaten so bad that the toll on his muscles became critical or self-loathing was responsible for his weakness. Maybe both. "Okay," Nelson said, grumbling as he stood.
"Hey," Antoine whispered from the hole. "Come here. Quick." Whatever he wanted, it sounded urgent. Nelson placed his ear against the hole. "Don't look in his eyes."