Terminal Connection

by Needles, Dan

  A few yards from her were three vibrating round spheres, about the size of basketballs. One represented oxygen and the other two hydrogen atoms. They revolved slowly around one another. Brooke sighed and kicked her legs as if she were swimming. As she drifted toward them, she saw that each sphere was comprised of a tiny nuclear core surrounded by an opaque spherical cloud, a blur of electrons. From class she knew the cloud consisted of a few electrons. However, they were small enough to exhibit quantum behavior; the electrons appeared in multiple locations at once. She stopped in front of the spheres.

  Brooke grabbed the oxygen atom, tucked it under her arm, and reached for a hydrogen atom. The hydrogen atom vibrated wildly and shook loose from her grip before she could get a handle on it. It floated away at a rapid pace.

  “Damn it! Computer, drop the temperature to minus one hundred Celsius.”

  The computer complied and the atoms stopped vibrating. The temperature she was feeling, of course, didn’t change. Only the simulation did. The hydrogen atom that had drifted away bounced off an invisible wall and drifted back to Brooke. Irritated, she grabbed the other hydrogen atom, which hovered in front of her. She then took the oxygen atom in her other hand and tried to join the two. As the atoms drew near each other, they repelled one another. She pushed harder, but they would not bond.

  “What’s wrong now? Why can’t anything be easy?” she muttered.

  She attempted to bring them together once more, this time watching their electrical fields. A dimple appeared on the oxygen atom’s surface in its electron cloud. That’s right. The electronic field around an oxygen atom was not balanced. Although it needed the hydrogen’s electrons, it would bond only on two locations over its surface. She studied the atoms. The energy field of the oxygen atoms appeared to be thick. She didn’t have the positioning right. She held the hydrogen atom between her knees and rotated the oxygen atom in both hands until she found a spot where the electrical field was thinner and more transparent. She let go of the hydrogen atom and bumped it with her knee like a soccer ball up to the oxygen atom in her hand. This time, the hydrogen atom lurched toward the oxygen atom and attached. Their electric fields merged and formed a single surface that enveloped both of them.

  One down, one to go.

  The other atom had returned to her. Without too much trouble, Brooke was able to repeat the procedure. She attached the second hydrogen atom to the oxygen atom, forming the familiar V-shape of a water molecule.

  The disembodied voice of the computer said, “Congratulations! You have completed problem four. Now, on to problem five. Frozen water is unlike most other frozen fluids. Please experiment and determine the difference.”

  The void filled with movement. Other water molecules appeared and bounced off each other and the invisible walls of the void. A few of them bumped against her. They felt soft and resilient. The way they surged back and forth, pushing her around, reminded Brooke of swimming in the ocean when she had the use of her legs. She remembered the surf and how out of control she felt. Brooke reveled in the memory until a molecule rebounded off her head.

  “Computer, what are the conditions?”

  “Standard room temperature and pressure. Time has slowed proportionally to match your simulated size.”

  “Computer, please lower the simulated temperature to minus twenty Celsius.”

  Again, the temperature on her skin remained the same but the molecules slowed noticeably and stopped trembling. A group of six formed a hexagon, their V-shaped legs pointing inward. Several rings formed. The rings collected and stacked on top of one another to form a crystal. The crystal rose. It pushed the loose water molecules aside until it was at the top of the room. Over the course of several minutes, Brooke watched as the V shapes extended the structure into a complex lattice. In the end, no free molecules remained.

  “Computer, the answer is that ice made of water is lighter than liquid water. Usually, a solid is heavier than its fluid counterpart, because the molecules pack closely together. However, water ice is less dense than fluid water.”

  “Brooke, please clarify. Why is water ice not denser?”

  “Because water ice forms ring-shaped crystals which leave a lot of empty space in the center of the crystal structure. Thus, the molecules do not pack as closely together as in their fluid form.”

  “Correct! This concludes your practice chemistry lab. Please review problems one and three. You had difficulty with these two problems, Brooke.”

  “I know, I know,” Brooke said.

  The room dimmed and went black.

  The scene dissolved into her virtual tree house. She felt empty and did not want to return to her physical body, at least not yet. Why go back to the wheelchair when she could be in here? There were still places to explore.

  She glanced over at the well-stocked bookcase on the tier. Each book represented a site she could visit on the Internet. Her dad had installed the bookcase as a way to control her comings and goings since he did not trust the V-chip. She ran a finger over the titles. Most were nonfictional titles and themes—famous people’s biographies, scientific subjects, and how-to books. Her dad did not believe much in games or game sites.

  What’s this? A title caught her eye: The Mars Lander. That was odd. She didn’t remember this title being here before. Her Dad didn’t buy fiction. Was it a new addition? She grabbed the title and sat down on the wooden floor. The book, really a booklet, contained just a couple of pages.

  The title across the top of the first page read, Visit Mars. Beneath it was a map of Mars. The next page was titled, The First Manned Expedition to Mars. It had animated pictures on the left-hand side and a description on the right of a fictional chronology of the planned mission. It was likely some promotional material that her dad had picked up. He was constantly supporting various causes. She selected a picture at random and touched its smooth surface. The promo music for NASA played. Next to her, a portal opened with a whoosh. She got up and stepped through.

  Brooke found herself wearing a spacesuit. A jumble of red rocks, covered in a thick layer of crimson dust, surrounded her. In the distance, the sharp peak of a mountain loomed above the Martian landscape. She couldn’t remember its name. Brooke noticed that her entire body felt different. Mars’ weaker gravity made it feel as if a great weight had been lifted from her. She looked down and took a tentative step forward. A small cloud of dust wafted up from the surface, settling in the thin Martian atmosphere. Cool. She took a second step.

  Pain, like shards of glass etched across her mind. She fell or was falling. Color swirled across her vision. A metallic taste made her gag. What was happening? The colors settled and she stopped spinning. She was looking down at her withered legs and the wheelchair. “Jesus,” she gasped. A wave of nausea hit her as her body reeled from the sudden trauma to her senses.

  “Brooke … told … use this! Are … listening … me? … Brooke?” Her dad’s voice faded in and out. Her dad stood over her, holding the Nexus in his hand.

  Brooke clutched her head and screamed. “Stop it!” She grabbed the wheels of her wheelchair and pushed. They didn’t budge. “Shit!” she gasped. Tapping the wheel locks, she freed the wheels and raced toward her room.

  “You don’t understand,” her Dad said.

  Brooke slammed the door behind her.

  22

  C lick. The sound grated on Steve’s nerves. Brooke had locked her bedroom door. Why did she shut him out like that? Didn’t she know how much he loved her? Steve took a deep breath. It didn’t help. He stormed into his office, hitting the light switch as he passed. Nothing happened. The lights were burned out.

  Steve walked around his desk and stumbled over a stack of books and papers on the floor. His ankle twisted and he stubbed his toe on the foot of the chair. Steve slid into his chair and let out a sigh. As he flung open the left bottom drawer, the scotch and tumbler inside clanged together. He grabbed both, poured a drink, and took a gulp.

  Brooke was so difficult to
deal with. She had blatantly disregarded his warning. Yet, somehow, she had turned the situation on him and suddenly it was his fault! How had she done that? He took another sip and set the glass back down.

  He was just protecting her. What if the Nexus had failed while she was online? Steve polished off the glass and poured another. He shuddered at the thought of Broke exposed to someone like Syzygy.

  Twenty minutes and several drinks later, the doorbell rang.

  Steve checked the time: 10:30 p.m. Who in the hell … ? He grabbed a roll of breath mints from the desk and popped one, then two, into his mouth. Lurching to his feet, he fell back into the chair, his head swimming from a cocktail of alcohol, fatigue, and guilt. Steve fixed his gaze on the red light of the fire alarm. Two red dots danced on the ceiling. He couldn’t focus.

  The doorbell rang.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming,” he yelled.

  He hated it when Brooke’s friends dropped by this late. He stood and steadied himself with the chair. Steve tripped over the stacks of papers and books, stumbled into the hallway, and jogged to the front door. He opened it.

  A tall beautiful Ameriasian woman with black hair greeted him.

  “Allison?” An alcohol-induced smile crept across his face.

  She grinned back at him. “Well, aren’t you going to let me in?”

  “Uh, yes.” He stepped back. “Of course.” He hoped she couldn’t smell the booze on him. Then of course swaying side to side was a dead give away. He leaned against the wall.

  She smirked and handed him a Nexus. “Are you all right?”

  He looked down. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t expect to see you. Come, sit down.” Steve turned and led her down the hall to the living room. They sat down on the couch.

  Steve turned over the Nexus she gave him.

  “It’s Xi Quang’s. I thought I would deliver it to you in person. I needed to make sure you were okay after Syzygy’s attack and all.”

  He set the Nexus aside on the end table.

  “I’m sorry I left you alone there,” she continued.

  “Allison …” Her green eyes transfixed him. Her gaze drifted to his lips. Perhaps he had not been the only one doing a little drinking. He felt drawn, but not dragged. He could have stopped it if he wanted to. He was not that intoxicated, but he had drunk just enough to provide an excuse. Maybe he would bend his rule this once. It wasn’t really mixing business with pleasure, being after hours and all. He glanced back toward Brooke’s room. The door was closed. She was asleep by now.

  He leaned over and kissed Allison lightly on the lips. His heart warmed with excitement as months of loneliness melted away, appeased for the time being.

  She laughed and kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him. He leaned toward her. She gave way, falling back onto the couch. On top of her, he kissed her neck. She unbuttoned his shirt and explored his chest. He rolled to his side and suddenly felt the edge of the couch beneath him. Still holding Allison, he fell. She let out a gasp as she rolled over on top of him. Together they landed on the floor.

  She laughed, getting up. “Maybe we should go somewhere safer.”

  “Safe sex?” he said, taking her hand, leading her toward the hall. He tripped on the carpeted steps leading from the sunken living room to the hallway.

  “Maybe I should take the lead,” she said.

  They stumbled down the hall to Steve’s bedroom. He closed the door behind them.

  The Calm

  “Our thoughts, our words, and deeds are the threads of the net which we throw around ourselves.”

  —Swami Vivekananda, 1902

  23

  Friday, June 12, 2020

  Allison wiped the sleep from her eyes and opened the door to the bathroom. A wall of fog washed over her. Steve had already showered, and a damp towel lay crumpled on the floor. The toilet seat lid was raised. “Men!” she groaned.

  Allison lowered the seat. She picked up the towel and threw it into the nearby hamper. She showered, dressed, and found Steve in the living room.

  He sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of the coffee table wearing a white cotton robe. Steve leaned against the couch while his fingers flew over the laptop’s keys. How could he type so fast?

  “What are you doing?”

  He continued to type, unfazed by her question.

  She noticed Xi Quang’s Nexus on the coffee table, next to his laptop. A cable linked the two. Moving next to him, she said, “Can you hear me?”

  Oblivious, he continued to type.

  She looked over his shoulder. He stopped typing and stared intently at a spreadsheet on the screen.

  You can be cute at times. She leaned over him, placing her face between him and the screen. “Steve!”

  Steve pulled back.

  “Sorry,” she laughed. “Did you find something?”

  “Yeah.” He moved aside.

  She eased around the couch and sat down on the carpet next to him. He pointed at the screen. “See these messages?”

  She cradled her legs with an arm and studied the log entries.

  06/12/20 16:22:29 THE PROGRAM V-CHIP WAS NOT ABORTED AS REQUESTED BY A REMOTE HOST—ALIAS SYZYGY DUE TO A LOCAL PROGRAM LOCK.

  06/12/20 16:34:11 THE PROGRAM SIGNAL AMPLIFIER WAS NOT ABORTED AS REQUESTED BY A REMOTE HOST—ALIAS SYZYGY DUE TO A LOCAL PROGRAM LOCK.

  “These are from the System Log off my Nexus. This shows when Xi Quang attacked me. Now watch. When I pull up records on Xi Quang’s Nexus showing the attacks he made …” Steve typed several keys and two new records appeared on the screen.

  06/12/20 18:22:29 A REQUEST TO STOP THE PROGRAM V-CHIP ON A REMOTE HOST: 193.168.122.15 FAILED DUE TO A LOCAL PROGRAM LOCK.

  06/12/20 18:34:11 A REQUEST TO STOP THE PROGRAM SIGNAL AMPLIFIER ON REMOTE HOST: 193.168.122.15 FAILED DUE TO A LOCAL PROGRAM LOCK.

  He looked over at her. “Do you see the problem?”

  She leaned forward. “Yeah, I do! They’re hours apart!”

  “No, that’s correct. He was two hours ahead in Chicago.”

  “I don’t understand. What’s your point?” she said, picking a spec of imaginary lint from her slacks.

  “My point is where is the attack on Camille? There should be four records—two for each attack from Xi Quang’s Nexus.”

  “Quang must have altered the log.”

  “Why would he cover up one attack but not the other?”

  “DARPA caught Quang after he attacked you. Maybe he didn’t have time to cover his tracks.”

  Steve nodded. “That’s true, but there’s no easy way to modify the logs. It requires an intimate knowledge of the system. Only a handful of people can do that—I know every one of them. Xi Quang isn’t on the list.”

  “But what else could it be?” she asked.

  “He must be part of a gang or group.”

  Allison leaned back and laughed. “You mean Syzygy is a conspiracy.”

  Steve bowed his head.

  She lost her smile. “You’re serious?”

  He nodded.

  “I seriously doubt that,” she said.

  “How else can you explain it?”

  “I don’t know, but we’ll find out soon enough after DARPA interrogates Quang.” She stood and stretched. “Well, I hate to take off so soon, but I’ve got some business that needs my attention this morning.” She bent over Steve and reached for her handbag. It gave him an eye full. He forgot about the logs.

  God, she smells good. His gaze caressed her body. How much had he missed last night in his stupor? He was too intimate with the bottle and too distant from the important things. So much of his life he could not recall. He was quite possibly staring at his second chance. He wouldn’t blow it again. He had his life, Brooke, and now, maybe Allison. Maybe.

  She straightened up. “Can I see you tonight?”

  He gazed into her green eyes. “Maybe may be definitely.”

  Allison cocked her head sideways.

  “I mean, of course
you can.” He pulled her close and kissed her, then brushed his cheek next to hers, smelling her scent. “God, you smell good.”

  She grinned and straightened.

  Getting up, he wrapped his robe around him and walked her to the door. “I have to take care of some things at Nexus Corp, but I’ll be in my virtual home office later this afternoon. Why don’t you meet me there? We could work more on the case.”

  “Sounds great, except for one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Dinner.”

  “Are you asking me out on a date?” he asked.

  She folded her arms together. “Let’s put it this way. Getting as focused as you do, it seems that a planned dinner date will get you away from things easier.”

  “Easier than what?” he asked. His gaze traced her figure.

  “Steve!” She nudged him. “I’m serious. You’re one of those focused types. You know, the kind that ignores everything else, or rather everyone else around you when you’re focused on work.”

  He nestled his face in her neck. “Did you like me better when I was tipsy and unfocused?”

  She laughed. “No, I’m not saying focus is bad, but sometimes focusing in other areas can be just as rewarding. Maybe even more so.” With that, she winked and left.

  Steve shook his head and shut the door. Her double meanings intrigued him.

  “Dad? Who are you talking to?”

  He spun around and saw Brooke wheeling down the hall.

  “Hey! Good morning, sunshine!” Steve turned and walked toward the kitchen.

  She followed. “You haven’t called me that in eons, Dad.”