Code Flicker
Page 1
Code Flicker
Retro Media 1
Marlin Seigman
Copyright © 2020 Marlin Seigman
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
For Wendy, Conrad, Noah, and Finn.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Preface
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Epilogue
Afterword
Acknowledgement
About The Author
Preface
Thank you for giving my book a try. I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please leave a review. You can also go to my website to found out how to get a free fiction.
www.marlinseigman.com
Prologue
Three Years Ago
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
Jacob smiled. “Relax. I know what I’m doing. And it worked in Maun, didn’t it?”
Xia shifted in her seat. “That was different. There are more eyes and ears here. We’re still in the corporate zone. They monitor just about everything.”
“You worry too much.”
“We’ve been full corporate for less than six months, and I don’t want to just throw that away. Besides, there’s a difference between worrying and being cautious. ”
“True,” Jacob said, “but there’s also a difference between being overly cautious and being smart. And I’ve been smart. No one knows we’ve been writing this code. The scramblers I got from Gomez are top of the line,” he gestured to the six devices stationed around the room, each on a tripod standing roughly five feet tall. “I have them set to scramble any signal not coming from my code deck. I can’t even use the room’s AI while the scramblers are on.”
Xia still looked doubtful.
“Plus, I’ve already tried it once,” Jacob added with a slight smile.
Xia stood and raised her hands in disbelief. “What were you thinking? We hadn’t run the final simulation. There could have been a glitch we didn’t catch. Christ Jacob, you might be the smartest person I know, but you can be such a dumbass sometimes.”
Jacob watched as Xia paced from one side of the small apartment to the other. She always paced when she was nervous or when she was working out a code problem. She took her nic-stem from her pocket and took a drag, something else she did when she was nervous or working out a problem.
“You really should quit the nicotine,” Jacob said.
“I will when you do.”
She tossed the nic-stem to him. He caught it and took a long drag.
“So,” Xia said, stopping in the middle of the room, “how was the code?”
“Better than expected,” he said through an exhale of vapor.
She relaxed.
“But,” he continued, “if you don’t want to throw away the corporate life, maybe you should forget about it.”
“Oh no, you don’t get it to yourself. I helped create this code, and I want to enjoy it just as much as you do, you greedy bastard.”
“No need to get personal.”
Xia laughed and sat back down. “Well, how was it?”
“Remember the first time you tried an opioid code?”
“Yes.”
“It’s that good.”
“It’s never that good.”
“It’s that good.”
He could see she still didn’t believe him.
“I guess you’ll have to see for yourself,” he said. He reached into his pocket and took out his code deck, a matte black device slightly smaller than his hand. He turned on the input panel and brought the deck to life. A small display projected above the input panel, showing lines of code. Xia held out her arm, exposing the electronic QR code tattoo just above her wrist. Jacob waved the code deck over her forearm, scanning the tattoo and connecting the deck to the subdermal chip implanted near the base of her skull. With a flick of his finger, he sent the code to Xia’s chip.
Almost instantly, a change came over her. She looked at peace and relaxed, yet still totally aware.
She rubbed her lips together, then said, “It’s that good.”
Jacob laughed. He rolled up his sleeve and scanned his tattoo. “Yes, it is,” he said after sending the code to his chip.
Two hours later, Xia paced again.
“That wasn’t enough time,” she said.
“Well, we do have to work tomorrow. If I’d programmed the high for any longer, you wouldn’t be sharp in the morning.”
Xia turned and gave him a smile. “I hate it when you’re right.”
“It must be horrible to go around with such hate all of the time,” he said.
“Just shut up and toss me the nic-stem.”
Jacob got up, tossed the nic-stem to her, and went into the kitchen to get a beer. “You want one?”
“No. I’ve got some good code for sleep meds. If I mix drinking with code this late, I definitely won’t be getting to work on time.”
“Nothing a little amphetamine code in the morning won’t cure,” Jacob said, opening his beer.
Xia shook her head. “You keep burning the candle at both ends, and you’ll burn out,” she said.
“Nobody uses candles anymore,” Jacob said. “They’re a fire hazard. But,” he said walking to the main scrambler and turning it off, “I’ll get the room to project some for you. Room,” he addressed the room’s AI, “project 100 burning candles, please.”
Images of candles filled the room. “Jackass,” Xia said.
Jacob, bathed in the light of the candles, laughed, then took a drink.
“Well,” Xia said, gathering her things, “I should get going. I still have to respond to my parent’s message from this afternoon.”
“Tell them I’m taking good care of you,” Jacob said, opening the door for Xia.
&
nbsp; “I will, and I will see you in the morning,” she said, walking into the hallway and waving.
Jacob closed the door and looked around at the candles floating in the room. “Room,” he said, then decided to keep the candles. “Never mind, Room.”
He took the beer from the table and downed it. Now what? Stream a show? Go for a walk? Give Gomez a call?
He looked at the code deck sitting on the table. The glow of the candles reflected on its surface.
“Room, what’s the time?”
“9:37 PM, CT.”
“That’s still early,” Jacob said, taking the code deck from the table. He could program an hour and a half worth of the code and still be asleep by midnight. He wouldn’t have a full night’s sleep, but he could use some code to get himself going in the morning. It wouldn’t be the first time.
He tapped the deck and its display projected. He waved it over his tattoo, connecting it to his subdermal chip. He flicked his finger, sending the code to his chip.
By design, euphoria swelled in his body. Some code sent its effects in waves, but the code he and Xia developed swelled in the body, like a time-lapsed video of a rising tide, the effects slowly building as the chip at the base of his skull sent instructions to his brain, activating his opioid receptors. For a moment, he thought he could feel warmth coming from the flames of the candles floating around him. He reached to touch one, his hand passing through its projected light. He cupped the flame in his palm. He blew on it to no effect.
He needed some nicotine and began searching for the nic-stem. There was something about the candles that tugged at his mind. He found the nic-stem and took a drag. What about the candles? The euphoria continued to swell in his body. Soon it would pulse, with each pulse intensifying, just as he and Xia had designed it. It is glorious, he thought. But the candles. What about the candles? The first pulse moved through his body, and he sat down. One hundred candles filled his vision and his mind, mirroring and reflecting off of every surface in the room. What about the candles? Another pulse. What about…
The scramblers. He forgot to turn them back on.
“Shit shit shit shit shit,” he mumbled, trying to think through the pulse that felt so glorious.
He reached for the code deck, but it wasn’t where he thought he left it. He looked around the room, through the pulses and the glow of the candles. All was light and reflection. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. Light and reflection. Pulse. He had to find the deck. He had to turn off the code. He had to turn off the candles.
“Room, end,” he managed to get out before the door blew inward, the sound and the force of the explosion knocking him back onto the kitchen floor.
He tried to get up. Through the haze of the explosion and the glow of the candles, he saw a rifle butt coming down. He tried to dodge it but was not fast enough. It caught his jaw. Another pulse from the code filled his body and he could hear the crack as his jaw broke, but he didn’t feel it. His mouth hung open, blood and teeth dripping to the kitchen floor. Someone grabbed him by the arms and forced his face to the floor. They pushed his arms high up his back and cuffed him. A tooth lay in his field of vision, too close to be in focus. Beyond his tooth, he could see the living room filling up with the boots of corporate police. He watched a boot step on and crack his code deck. Then another boot, and another, the light of the candles reflecting in each boot’s perfect shine. He tried to lift his head. He caught a glimpse of an officer in full protective gear before his face was pushed back down.
“Jacob Quince,” an amplified voice said, “you are hereby released from your employment with Your Better Life Incorporated on the grounds you have independently and without authorization developed and used code while under contract with Your Better Life Incorporated. As per the terms of your contract, you are sentenced to serve one year in prison and two years of probation.”
He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the pulse building in his body.
Chapter 1
East Texas burned, and the January Houston sky glowed red and gray. A disagreement between two corporate CEOs culminated in one corporation sending fifty drones to drop small scale incendiary devices on the private estate of the rival CEO. The drought that had baked Texas since the summer made the Texas Piney Woods perfect kindling and the fire raged out of control.
Because of the fires, there had been no real sunshine for a week, but Jacob still wore sunglasses. It was his final day of probation, and he stood in front of the probation office gathering his thoughts before he went in. Feeling ready, he took off the glasses and looked into the facial recognition scanner, blinking to adjust for the light. Inside, he took off his backpack and took a seat, thankful this would be the last time he’d have to wait in this depressing room. He tried to find a comfortable position and to avoid the stains that dotted the chair. The smell of stale coffee only partially hid the aroma of the man in the chair next to him.
He tried to take his mind off of the smell by watching the news feed on the wall screen. A representative of the corporation that started the fires spoke, his image superimposed over video of pine trees burning.
“This is the fault of climate change. If our politicians could get their act together and do something about climate change, we would not be in a drought. We all know it is only going to get worse. That is why we are calling on the citizens to pressure their elected leaders to…”
“Jacob Quince,” the receptionist called. “You will be seen now.”
Jacob got up and went to the desk. The receptionist took a hand-held retinal scanner and waved it in front of Jacob’s face. “Third door on the left,” she said without looking at him.
“Thanks,” he said and headed down the hall.
The door sat partially open, so he went in without announcing himself. His probation officer, Jani Newsome, sat behind her desk, “Jacob, come in. Have a seat. Today’s the big day,” she said.
Jacob sat down in a slightly more comfortable and slightly less stained chair.
“So,” Newsome continued, “how are you feeling?”
“Like I’m ready to get this all behind me and get on with the rest of my life.”
Newsome smiled and nodded. “Good. That’s good to hear. How is your relationship with,” she checked her notes, “Sandy?”
He hated when Newsome did this, trying to sound like she cared about his personal life. He smiled. “It’s fine, I guess.”
Newsome returned the smile. “Good. Close personal relationships are an important part of integrating back into society.”
“They are,” Jacob said.
Newsome checked her notes again. “The last time we met, I asked you to think about what that would look like, what the rest of your life would look like. Have you done that?”
Every day for the last three years, Jacob thought.
“I have,” he said.
“And?”
“Being banned from corporate work for the rest of my life sort of limits the options.”
“That’s true,” she said before he could continue, “but we have talked about that. There are so many things you can do.”
“I know. I enjoy working for Gomez at Retro Media, but I want something more. Maybe my own business.”
“That would be great,” she interrupted again. “There are many non-corporate opportunities out there. You just have to look.”
“I’ve also thought about Africa.”
“Really?”
“I did my two years on Your Better Life’s peace mission in Botswana.”
“That’s right. You did.”
“I’ve been thinking that I might save credits enough to get over there. I could get something that would be good for me in Maun. The corporations don’t have such a hold there. Maybe I could even get on at a small, non-corporate safari company. I don’t know, just something to get away from this,” he said, gesturing at nothing in particular.
“That would be great.”
Jacob nodded.
He wanted to tell her he’d been using a code deck since his release from prison, tell her he had been hacking for money for the last two years, tell her he flicked code on the side for extra credits, tell her he was better at breaking the rules than she was at catching him, but instead, he said, “Thank you.”
Chapter 2
He put his sunglasses back on and stepped out of the probation office door, feeling a sense of relief he hadn’t felt in three years. He was free, and it felt good. Resisting the urge to give the probation office the middle finger, he headed to Commie Cup, the ironically leftist coffee shop where he always stashed his code deck during a probation meeting.
He looked at the sunless sky, adjusted his backpack, and started walking, his mind replaying the question, “What does the rest of your life look like?” He honestly didn’t know. He wanted to. Three years ago he thought he did. A nice comfortable life of coding for a corporation. Moving up to head his own department one day. A nice place on the coast. A beautiful wife. But one stupid mistake and all of that was gone. What was left? His job at Retro Media? The small-time hacking jobs he and Gomez landed? Flicking code to code freaks in clubs? A small, rundown apartment? Sandy? He wasn’t even sure Sandy wanted to be with him. She hadn’t spoken to him in days. He just had no idea what the rest of his life looked like. At the moment, he couldn’t even imagine it. He did know he wanted it to look different than it did now.