Scarcity

by Robert Calbeck

  Bill began clacking away. And Qwiz went back to his own computer. He checked his email briefly and found a strange new message with an unknown attachment. The sender had clearly used a throwaway email address, judging by the spam-tastic characters it contained. The title was equal parts intriguing and frightening. It simply read: Help.

  Qwiz quickly opened the message. There was no greeting or salutation.

  If you are reading this, I am glad you are still alive. I hope this helps in your search.

  Username: pjrangpart.eu.bc

  Password: 435Sabemas534

  Input the password into the attached program. I trust you will know what to do with it. Good luck. I will continue to send help when I can.

  Qwiz stared at the email. He read it repeatedly, still not quite believing what he saw. Bill came over and read the message over his shoulder.

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” Bill said, “I told you they bugged every apartment in the States. We were just talking about passwords.”

  “I don’t think they were listening, this was sent over an hour ago.”

  Bill humphed. “Then what the shit is going on?”

  “I see only two possibilities,” Qwiz said. “This could be a trap from the same people who tried to kill us. They found out who we were and are trying to locate us. If I open up that attachment, it will tell them where we are.”

  “And the second possibility?”

  “Someone is legitimately trying to help us, and just gave us the key to unlock the EU government network. That would also mean that Europe is definitely behind everything.”

  Bill scratched his beard, saying nothing for some time. Finally, he said, “I don’t think that first possibility makes sense.”

  “Why not?”

  “Cause if they knew enough to send you an email, then they could have found out where we lived. They wouldn’t need a tracking program. They would have already stormed the apartment, killed us, and grabbed everything. Why send an email? They gotta know you would see it as a trap, it would just warn you to get out of here.” Bill shook his head, “nah, this is something else; it ain't a trap.”

  “Then who is helping us? And why?”

  “Smog-it if I know. But this ain't the first time someone has helped us. Remember when they had us pinned against the wall, but just left? That’s been chafing my balls since it happened; it didn’t make sense. But if there is someone on the inside who wants to see Luthor succeed, then maybe this is from them. Maybe they were the ones who called off those SUVs.”

  “You think I should open the attachment.”

  “I think it isn’t a virus. Doesn’t mean you should open it.”

  “If this really is from a good guy, then this might be a scrambling program. Basically, it takes an approved password and username combo and mixes it all up and changes it to make it unhackable. It’s an extra layer of security to their network. Even if I got a username and password, they wouldn’t do any good without this program.”

  “I think you should open it.”

  Qwiz was inclined to agree. He downloaded the program, disconnected the internet, unplugged the router, and pulled out the wireless card from the laptop’s motherboard. If the thing was a virus, at least it wouldn’t be able to broadcast their location. He scanned the program’s code, but didn’t see any hallmarks of a virus.

  He executed the file and held his breath.

  A simple input screen appeared. Qwiz input the information provided in the email and hesitantly hit enter. The program worked for a second and then provided a re-arranged password and login. Underneath, a red timer clicked down from five minutes.

  “The program encrypts the password with a time-stamp,” Qwiz said. “It will expire in five minutes.”

  Bill slapped his calloused hands together. “Hot damn. Thank you—whoever-the-hell you are.”

  Qwiz quickly began plugging things back in. It was time to get to work.

  #

  Somewhere in the Mid Atlantic

  “Took them longer than I expected,” Vika said, as the panicked faces of the men absorbed the message.

  Tanya shook her head “You knew they would discover us eventually? And you didn’t tell us?”

  “Of course they would find out. There are guaranteed to be at least a couple of carbon agents on every seabus.”

  “Damn it Vika, how were we supposed to know that?” Luthor said.

  “What did you think was going to happen when they identified the bodies?”

  Tanya frowned. Vika was right. Again. She should have known a dead person buying a seabus ticket would raise some eyebrows in any homicide investigation. They might not have enough electricity to waste on security cameras any more, but they could still afford a phone call to catch an escaping fugitive.

  “We should have been planning something at least.” Michael said. “Now they’ve got us with our pants down.”

  “It would not have mattered,” Vika said.

  Michael looked frantic. “Why not? We have been here for days, we could have found a place to hide. Something!”

  “We are on a boat,” she said simply. The implication was obvious. No place to hide.

  Michael turned to Luthor. “I told you she was going to stab us in the back once we got out of Europe. And now look at us. There is no way they will let us off into American territory. We will get shipped off and tried as terrorists.” Michael glowered, “that is if she doesn’t kill us first.”

  Vika had confounded Tanya’s best attempts at empathy and this bombshell sounded every trust alarm in Tanya’s mind. Michael had been expecting an imminent double-cross, now that they were in international waters. Michael also expected her to build a submarine from spare parts around the ship, and use the 126 to power her escape. But Vika had risked her life to help them. For all her quirks and severe manner, Vika had gotten them on the boat, and out of the EU. That was certainly worth a measure of good faith.

  Tanya didn’t understand it, but she didn’t always need to. Sometimes she just felt something. She’d always supposed it was God speaking to her in that “quiet whisper” her parents were always preaching about. Despite her parents’ warnings, the feeling didn’t leave when she got her Mark even though getting one was supposed to have damned her to hell. Now that voice said to trust Vika. “Why don’t you boys shut up and see if she can help us, instead of blaming her. Maybe she already has a plan.”

  Vika nodded appreciatively. “I did have a plan.” She produced a utility knife with a dangerous flourish. “But you have given me a better one.” She paused, with a better sense of drama than Tanya supposed her capable of. “Exactly how much of that 126 do you have?”

  #

  The bow of the seabus bore a vestigial helipad; though Luthor doubted any of the others would have recognized it as such. Anymore, helicopters were about as useful as an appendix. Perhaps at one time in the past they too had served a purpose—Luthor had even ridden in a helicopter early in the war—but now they remained the single least fuel-efficient mode of transportation humans had ever devised. They used twice the fuel of a fixed wing aircraft, to go half as far, a quarter as fast. Even for the fabulously wealthy, using a helicopter was akin to flushing solid gold down the toilet.

  Luthor’s mental clock told him that they were out of time to be in their dorm. Vika pointed over the guard rail. “We’ll hide there.”

  Michael’s eyes brightened. “We’ll use the 126 to counteract the earth’s gravity and cling to the side of the seabus!”

  Vika nodded. Luthor shivered involuntarily.

  Heights. And they were easily thirty meters above the water. It was too high. He couldn’t speak, his mouth had suddenly locked up.

  “Hurry! They are already searching the ship.” Michael mashed two bundles of 126 together with the polymer. The feeling of altered gravity instantly rushed over Luthor and managed to heighten his terror even more. And they wanted him to just hang that high above the surface of the water. The only thing holding them there
would be a strange property of a strange element that he only faintly understood. What if it failed? What if the element wasn’t actually stable and began to fission? What if they didn’t use enough and they just fell into the water?

  “If we can hide here long enough, will they conclude we aren’t on the boat?” Tanya asked.

  “That’s what I would say, if it were me looking for you,” Vika said, “I would assume you bought the ticket to throw me off your scent.” Tanya nodded and swung her leg out over the side. She didn’t look afraid, just wondrous. She deftly stuck her 126 below her and then disappeared. Vika followed.

  Michael looked back as he climbed over the edge. “Come on, Luthor!” he hissed. “What are you doing?” Luthor hadn’t even noticed he was backing away from the edge. He felt like he was on top of a ball, like a move in any direction would cause him to fall over the side.

  “I… I can’t,” Luthor said.

  “Yes, you can. Now move.” Michael spoke with such urgency that Luthor began walking toward him. Michael held out his hand, “come on, I will help you.”

  Luthor grasped his hand and looked out over the edge. The frothing sea looked up and licked its lips, hungry for Luthor’s flesh. The waves reached up for him, trying to pull him down to the unfathomable depths below the Atlantic.

  It called out to him, you’re going to fall. Just fall. You can’t control gravity. You will fall!

  The world spun, he couldn’t focus. Luthor screamed and fell on his back and began scooting away. “I can’t. I can’t.” Luthor kept repeating as he pushed himself farther from the edge.

  Michael looked down at the women below him. “Stay here. I’ll go with Luthor.” He climbed up and grabbed Luthor’s hand and hustled him away from the deck. Luthor’s vision still swam in front of him. Michael was muttering something that had a lot of four-letter words.

  Luthor could barely walk, his encounter with the edge of the boat had left him broken. Michael was shouting something. Luthor didn’t understand him.

  Michael slapped him full-on across the face. “Wake up, you smogging pansy! Get in here and pray they don’t find you.”

  Luthor walked into an open door on the side of the ship. It was filled with ropes, netting and life-preservers. There was only room for one person, barely. “Damn you Luthor, stay here until we come back.” He shoved the door shut leaving Luthor in total blackness.

  Luthor hated himself. His stupid fear had compromised everything. If only he had been able to do what all the rest had found easy. Michael had been forced to risk his life to find him a hiding spot. Now an unknown number of carbon agents patrolled the ship, scanning everyone’s CPI chip and looking for any irregularities. Eventually, they would cross off every paid-for ticket except for Vika’s and their three forgeries. It was only a matter of time.

  Visions of the sheer height of the ship above the water replayed in his mind. He grabbed the netting on the wall to secure himself. It was like the netting on the inside of a plane before he jumped out. He hoped his unconquered fear hadn’t doomed them all.

  #

  They had lined the 126 up on the side of the seabus in regular spaces, which they had taken to calling BOGs—Michael’s idea— meaning Ball of Gravity. Tanya didn’t much care what they called it, but BOG was easier to say than “several beads of 126 wrapped in Eli’s polymer.” The regular spacing of the BOGs allowed them to move around in almost normal gravity despite being angled upside down toward the water.

  It felt strangely normal to Tanya. It was just natural to see the side of the ship as down. Her body told her it was down and she simply chose to believe it. The giant wall of water rising up next to her was merely a fascinating curiosity, but ultimately unalarming. They watched the sun set sideways into the vertical ocean; it made it more beautiful somehow.

  Tanya worried about Luthor. They had left him in the storage closet for hours now, it had to be past midnight. Vika wanted to stay until they heard an all-clear announcement from the bridge. Tanya did not. She wanted to know the man she loved was alive and not incarcerated for international terrorism. She had become familiar with his debilitating fear of heights when he had refused to climb a spiral staircase during one of their first dates. He had shut down so completely they’d been forced to change plans. Something absolutely awful had changed him during the war. Unfortunately, asking about it clammed him up as quickly as heights did. All she knew for sure was that it had something to do with the battle of Titan Dome. It had been so traumatizing that it had changed him from a fearless paratrooper to the broken, PTSD-ridden man she knew today.

  Abruptly, a horrible alarm rocked through the hull of ship, buffeting them.

  “Is it too much to ask that they wouldn’t find Luthor?” Michael said.

  “We have to do something!” Tanya cried.

  They began replacing the BOGs in a new trail back up the side of the ship. In a minute they were all back aboard, each with a few wads of 126 tucked safely around their waists.

  “This way,” Michael beckoned, leading them around the opposite side of ship where he had secreted Luthor.

  Luthor stood flattened against the wall with a man pointing a gun at his chest. With his free hand the man shouted into some sort of walkie-talkie.

  “I’ll distract him. You two save Luthor.”

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Tanya asked.

  “Nope.” Michael said with a grin and he ran toward the man with the gun. He pulled up short of the carbon cop in an exaggerated way. “Oh shit!” he yelled. “They found me!” He turned and bolted down a side corridor.

  The man immediately yelled something into the walkie-talkie, left Luthor, and sprinted after him.

  Chapter 10:

  Somewhere in the Mid-Atlantic

  Michael sprinted around the deserted jogging track of the seabus. No one was out enjoying the chilly North Atlantic air. The shrill alarm continued wailing banefully throughout the ship, which tended to mean it wasn’t a good time for a stroll. Michael didn’t much care at the moment, which sometimes happens when being chased by a dude with a gun.

  Michael hoped the others were still alive. Why am I worried about the others right now? I am the one who just risked his life. What is happening to me? Am I in danger of becoming a gentleman?

  He rounded the bow of the ship and realized he was screwed. He looked ahead at almost 300 meters of straight, unobstructed track. There wouldn’t be much cover for its entire length. Even at this time in the night any carp worth his weight in carbon would take that shot, probably several.

  Michael darted into the basketball courts. Nets designed to catch wayward balls before they went overboard stretched up into the darkness. He doubted they would be very good at catching bullets. Various poles, balls, and other sports paraphernalia lay packaged for the night. Michael wound his way through the courts, putting as many things between him and the Euro-carp as possible.

  The plink of bullets came from a pole next to him. He ran behind a cart full of sporting equipment and heard the loud pop of a basketball being blown up like a balloon with a needle. There was no sound from the gunshot, the suppressor combined with the ambient noise of the Atlantic effectively masked the sound of the explosion in the chamber.

  He turned back on to the jogging track and cursed at himself again. More straight-aways. It seemed like the carp was gaining on him. His adrenaline continued to flow, giving him speed.

  Life boats, hanging well off the side of the seabus, whizzed by, but the stern of the seabus wasn’t approaching fast enough. He had to get off the track. Maybe if he was fast enough, he could use the 126 to hide on the side of the ship like before. He ducked into a shallow doorway and yanked on the handle. It was locked. Smogging alarms! He slammed the door with his open palm. The lights through the little porthole remained dark. He wanted to run for it. Too late now, he thought. You get out of this doorway and you are going to find out what it feels like to be shot.

  His mind raced. There w
ere only seconds to spare. He thought of the element 126 around his belt; he had four BOGs. Maybe if he cracked the glass and threw them inside, it would be enough weight to break the door in. He punched the little porthole as hard as he could. He winced at the pain, as a trickle of blood began flowing from his middle knuckle. He hadn’t even cracked the damn thing.

  He started to panic. Chancing a look, he saw that the agent was running by the same life boats Michael had passed only moments before. An idea bloomed in his mind. Quickly taking all four BOGs from his belt, he mashed them together. He couldn’t make them open the smogging door, but they might still be able to save his life.

  Michael’s panic grew as the gravity clenched around him like a fist. He held twice as much 126 as they’d tried in the game-room at his waist. His feet were being pulled up and his head was being pulled down. He was being crushed.

  Grabbing the chrome door handle behind him, Michael lobbed the ball at the nearest life boat, 3 meters off the side of the ship. Gravity nearly tore him free as space warped around the powerful element as it moved through the air. He held on to the door, managing to avoid getting ripped off by the moving gravity dimple. The polymer adhered to the side of the lifeboat, holding the 126 soundly in place. He felt the pull ease, but even meters away, the gravity distortion was still detectable, churning his stomach. Michael sagged against the door.

  The agent’s pace never slowed, his gun out, ready to arrest or shoot Michael. As he approached the boat, he abruptly lurched sideways, pulled in by Michael’s trap. He screamed in fear. His legs smashed into the low glass wall on the side of the track, flipping him violently toward the lifeboat. He shrieked louder. The terrified man struck the side of boat with a sickening thud. He stopped screaming. He careened down off the hull toward the water, flipping in the opposite direction. His descent slowed as his momentum and Earth’s gravity fought against the 126 for dominance. The agent almost completely stopped 2 meters underneath the life boat, floating like some ghostly apparition. A second later, Earth broke the deadlock and he slowly began accelerating toward the water. Michael watched as the man dropped out of sight, eerily silent.