Code Flicker

by Marlin Seigman

  Sandy and Jacob walked down the aisle to the flower shop when the sound of an African tribal beat looped and layered in a driving post-house mix playing from a small speaker at the entrance to a shop caught Sandy’s attention. “I want to stop here,” Sandy said. “We need some new music at the club. Something different.”

  “No problem. The flower stall is just down a bit. I’ll get one and surprise you.”

  “Just head back this way. We’ll meet in the middle,” Sandy said and turned to start a conversation with the woman in the shop.

  Jacob continued down the aisle, the music from the speaker getting softer and mixing with the sounds of The Market. The flipper in his pocket vibrated. He took it out and checked the text.

 

  Chapter 33

  The text was from Sandy. He fought the urge to turn around and look. The flipper vibrated again.

 

  He put the flipper back in his pocket and stepped up to a shop selling paper books.

  “You don’t see these much anymore,” he said to the old man running the shop.

  The man looked up from his reading device. “And it's a damn shame. What can you do about progress?”

  “Move with it or get run over, I guess.”

  “True. You some sort of philosopher?”

  Jacob laughed. “No. I’m in the same kind of business, though. I help run Retro Media in The Galleria. We sell old computers and games and, well, other media.”

  “I know the place. Seems we are kindred spirits.”

  Jacob nodded. “What do you have that’s good?”

  “I know just the book for you. In Defense of Lost Causes by Žižek. You know it?”

  “Never heard of it. Not the most inspiring title.”

  The man seemed to ignore Jacob's comment and went to a stack of books on a table at the back of the shop. While he did this, Jacob rummaged through the books spread out on the table near the front. He moved to the side of the table to get a view of the aisle and scanned the crowd. A man with a black jacket over a blue shirt stood two stalls down on the opposite side of the aisle, examining fresh vegetables. Jacob went back to the books on the table.

  “Here you go,” the old man said, handing Jacob the book. “Twenty credits.”

  “Twenty?”

  “I don’t barter. Twenty credits.”

  Jacob laughed and transferred the credits to the old man’s account.

  He put the book in his backpack and continued to Pigeon Eater’s shop, the sounds of pigeons cooing and the smell of pigeon roasting reaching him before he could see the shop.

  “Jacob, a surprise seeing you,” Pigeon Eater said, stepping out to greet him. A solemn look came over his face. “Hey man, about Gomez. I’m sorry. He was a good man and a good friend.”

  “He was.” Jacob quickly scanned the aisle for the man in the black jacket. He turned back to Pigeon Eater. “I’ve got a favor to ask.”

  “Sure, man. Anything, you know that.”

  “I’ve got someone following me, maybe two stalls down. Man in a black jacket and blue shirt. Do you have your flipper on you?”

  Pigeon Eater nodded.

  “Do you still have my flipper number?”

  “It’s programmed in.”

  “Good. I’m going to go to the next shop and buy a flower. When I go back the other way, I want you to see if he follows me. If he does, text me.”

  “No problem, man.”

  “Thanks, I owe you.”

  He bought the flower and put the stem in the book and headed back toward the shop with the music and Sandy. He passed Pigeon Eater and the man in the black jacket. After he had gone the length of three more stalls, his flipper vibrated.

 

  He met Sandy at the music shop.

  “Did you buy any music?”

  “I did,” Sandy said.

  “I have new mixes all of the time,” the woman running the shop said. “Come back if people like it.”

  Sandy said, “I’m sure they will.”

  “We should get back,” Jacob said. “We do have a shadow.”

  “Any idea who it is?”

  “I don’t think it’s the SRS. They usually go in pairs. Maybe NirvanaWare, if Evgeny told them we were part of the hijacking. Maybe one of Johnson’s men. Let’s just get back, but be ready for anything.”

  They made their way back to The Galleria, walking a normal pace, finding excuses to stop several times to see if they were still being followed. They lost sight of the man once they were in The Galleria, but they knew he could keep an eye on the store from any number of vantage points.

  When they walked into Retro Media, Two-Step was with a customer explaining the modifications he made to the Tandy. “Kat’s in the back,” he said and went back to the customer.

  Kat had several of the security monitors completely disassembled, the parts spread over multiple workstations.

  “I had to do something to keep my mind off of,” she said, her voice not stopping but trailing off.

  “Are they working?” Jacob asked, pointing to the monitors still in one piece.

  “Only as good as they were before.”

  “That’s good enough.”

  “What’s going on?” Kat asked.

  “We were followed. We need to cycle through and get a visual on the guy. I want to know where he is.”

  Kat turned the screens on and cycled through the cameras placed throughout The Galleria.

  “We can skip any area that doesn’t have a view of our storefront,” Jacob said.

  Kat nodded and quickly found the man. He was at the far edge of the garden.

  “That’s him,” Sandy said.

  “Who’s he with?” Kat asked.

  “We don’t know,” Sandy said.

  “Maybe we can find out,” Jacob said. “Kat, where are the earpieces?”

  “In my drawer.”

  “We each need a set. I’ll go stand by the railing so he has eyes on me. Kat, after I go out, you leave the store and make your way down there and come up behind him. Do you think you can take him out?”

  Kat looked at the man on the screen. “He’s big, but if I surprise him, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Good. Sandy, you keep an eye on him here. Let us know if he moves.”

  “Got it.”

  Jacob paused. “Kat, do you have your gun?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. Let’s find out who this fucker is.”

  They put in the earpieces and Jacob went out into the hallway, telling Two-Step to stay in the store on his way out. In the hall, he leaned against the railing, looking out over the garden below.

  “Leaving the store,” Kat’s said over the earpiece.

  Shortly, Jacob saw Kat on the lower level, making her way to the other end of the garden. He tried to see a black jacket in the corner of the garden, but could not.

  “Is he still there?” he asked.

  “He hasn’t moved,” Sandy said.

  “How’s it going, Kat?”

  “Almost there.”

  Sandy said, “Wait a minute. He’s getting his phone out. He’s talking to someone. He put his phone away and is walking toward the exit.”

  “I’ll follow him,” Kat said.

  “No,” Jacob almost yelled. “No. We don’t know if he’s alone. Stay where you are, and we will follow him on the security monitors. If he has any backup, I want to know.”

  “He’s already out of the building,” Sandy said.

  “Let’s wait a little bit and see if he comes back.”

  After five minutes of waiting, Jacob told Kat to come back to the store.

  “I want to know what that was about,” Kat said as she walked in the back room.

  “I do too,” Jacob said. “Something tells me we are in the middle of something bigger than we thought.”

  “That is not a place I like to be,” Kat said.

  “Me neither.”

 
; Chapter 34

  It felt strange to be back in his hometown. Jacob hadn’t been back since leaving the summer after he graduated from high school, and the experience of seeing a place that should be familiar but had changed just enough not to be was disorienting. He sat in the backseat of Kat’s car, staring out the window as they drove down Main Street, past the building that used to be the internet café where he and Gomez spent countless hours honing their gaming and hacking skills. It was a tattoo and cybernetics shop now.

  “That was our old hangout,” Jacob said, pointing to the shop.

  “You were into tattoos that young?” Sandy asked from the front seat.

  “It used to be a place to get on the net. They had the best connection in town and held weekly capture the flag tournaments. We always won.”

  “Glory days,” Sandy said.

  The car turned off of Main and headed down a side street.

  “We’re almost there,” Jacob said.

  “Don’t be so nervous,” Sandy said to Kat.

  Kat glanced in the rearview mirror. “I'm not. Not about this. Maybe the other day has me paranoid, but that car’s been behind us since we got off the highway. I want to see if they turn down this street.”

  Jacob and Two-Step turned to look. A black Dongfeng sedan turned onto the street behind them.

  “The SRS?” Two-Step asked.

  “Other people drive Chinese cars,” Jacob said.

  “I’m sure I’m being paranoid,” Kat said.

  “I didn’t say that. We just need to stay on our toes, but calm. Gomez’s mom doesn’t need us freaking out right now,” Jacob said. “Besides, why would someone follow us in a car instead of using a drone? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “You’re right,” Kat said.

  Kat stopped the car in front of Gomez’s mother’s house. Jacob got out and watched the Dongfeng turn onto a side street a block away.

  “Maybe they weren’t following us,” Two-Step said.

  “Maybe,” Jacob said, still looking down the street.

  Walking up to the door, Jacob said, “Remember, when she mentions Raul, she’s talking about Gomez.”

  “He lied to me,” Two-Step said.

  “What?”

  “I had a bet with Gomez. I bet him I could guess his first name. I did, and he told me I was wrong. I mean, I cheated and did some research, but he still lied. He said that was his brother’s name. I bet he doesn’t even have a brother.”

  “He doesn’t,” Jacob said and rang the doorbell.

  Gomez’s sister answered. “Jacob,” she said and hugged him.

  “Hey, Lizette. This is Sandy, Kat, and Two-Step.”

  “Hello. Everyone is in the living room. Sorry, it’s so crowded. Mom insisted we have this here instead of the church. She said Raul didn’t like church when he was alive, and she wasn’t going to make him go when he was dead.” She paused, her face fighting back emotion. “Anyway, come on in.”

  Relatives and a few high school friends filled the living room and the kitchen. Mrs. Gomez sat in a chair in the corner talking to her sister when Lizette led Jacob and the others into the room. Her face lit up when she saw Jacob. He went to her. After his mother died when he was eleven, Mrs. Gomez became his “Second Mom.” That was the title she gave herself, and it stuck, even after he had a step-mother. It made sense because she was more of a mother to him than his step-mother could be and more than his real mother had a chance to be. She would get after him when he and Gomez got in trouble at school; she was there to give advice when he had his first real crush; she gave him advice about college and his future. “Listen to your Second Mom,” she would say, “and if you want to get out of this town and make something of your life, you do it with everything you have in you.” As he crossed the crowded room, she stood to greet him, and when she hugged him, he cried. For the first time since Gomez’s death, he cried. Since that night in the hospital he hid behind an emotional firewall, and now the firewall was down and the torrent of emotion it held back came pouring out. “I know,” Second Mom said through her own tears. The others in the room stood, silent, watching.

  Chapter 35

  The memorial was a simple tribute to Gomez. Each person took a turn to say something. Uncles shared about going fishing on the coast with Gomez and his father; aunts shared about babysitting him and having to change diapers or how he could be bribed to behave with the simple promise of extra computer time; Coach Trenton, the high school football coach, shared through tears that Gomez was the best he’d ever coached and could have gone pro if he hadn’t injured his knee senior year and how Gomez still came to every practice and every game for the rest of the year just to help and encourage the other players; Two-Step shared how Gomez helped him go from a homeless runaway to someone with a good job and an apartment, and because of Gomez, he knew what it was like to have an older brother.

  After everyone finished sharing, they stood around eating and talking. Mrs. Gomez came to Jacob and said, “Come with me to Raul’s old room. He left some stuff here I want you to have.”

  Jacob followed her. The posters Gomez had on the wall throughout high school were still there, but now the room had become a place for storage. Mrs. Gomez went to a box sitting on the edge of the bed. Inside was Gomez’s old laptop, some old computer games, a few other pieces of equipment, and a small frame with a penny mounted in the center. Jacob took out the frame with the penny.

  “This is the only penny I’ve ever seen. I’m surprised more people didn’t keep them when the government did the buyback program. You should probably hold on to it. They are worth a lot,” he said, handing the frame to Mrs. Gomez.

  “I guess you’re right,” she said. “I’ve sold all of the other ones I had.”

  Jacob looked at the remaining contents of the box.

  “I don’t know if you can use any of this old stuff, but it’s just gathering dust here.”

  He picked up the laptop and turned it over in his hands. He opened it and closed it again. “We had a lot of fun with this machine. I’m sure I can find something to do with it. It’ll be nice to have either way.” He put the laptop back in the box.

  “Good.” She sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the window. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do now that Raul is gone.”

  Jacob put the box on the floor and sat down. “I know. I’m going to miss him too.”

  She was quiet, running her right thumb along the length of her left index finger. “It’s not just that. I’ll miss him more than I can put into words right now, but…” She paused. “This isn’t easy to talk about, but you’re like family. It’s the money I’m not sure about.”

  “The money?”

  “He sent money every month to help pay for his father’s assisted care living. It was the only way we made ends meet. Now, I’m going to have to put him in public care.”

  Gomez’s father had Late-Onset Chip Rejection Syndrome, a rare condition some people developed as they aged. Essentially, they developed a neuro allergy to their subdermal chip, causing a change in personality or psychosis or paralysis or any number of neurological malfunctions. Sometimes several at once. There were government-run institutions set up to house those who suffered from the syndrome, but they were poorly funded, and most people didn’t last a year in them. The private institutions offered much better care, but they also knew people would pay any amount they could afford, or not afford in many cases, to keep their loved ones alive for a few more years, regardless of their mental state.

  “He’s been sending you money every month?” Jacob asked.

  “Yes. It hasn’t always been enough, but when it’s more than enough, we put it aside for the lean months.”

  “He never told me.”

  “No, I guess he wouldn’t.”

  Jacob reached down and took the laptop out of the box again. With his fingers, he traced one of the many stickers Gomez put on it. “How much do you need?”

  “After our insurance, we sill owe f
ifty thousand a year. Neither of us ever worked for a corporation, so we don’t have their insurance. You know what it’s like for most people around here, unless you at one of the energy plants, you scrape by and hope you never get sick.”

  Fifty thousand a year. Gomez’s share of the payout for the Your Better Life job would probably take care of his father for the rest of his life.

  Jacob looked at her, at the concern in her eyes. “We still have the store,” he said. “And Raul did have an account. Let’s see where everything is when his will is released. I’ll make sure you get what you need.”

  ◆◆◆

  As soon as Kat pulled into the street Jacob said, “We have to finish the job.”

  “Why? What happened?” Sandy asked.

  “Gomez has been sending her at least fifty thousand credits a year to help pay for his dad’s medical bills.”

  “He never told you that?” Kat asked.

  “No.”

  “He planned on using the money from the job to help her.”

  “That’s what I figured after she told me what he’s been doing. We have to come up with a new plan and do this job,” Jacob said.

  “We will,” Sandy said.

  “Guys, I don’t know what job you’re talking about,” Two-Step said, “but our tail is back.”

  Shit. Jacob was so wrapped in his thoughts, he forgot Two-Step didn’t know about the Your Better Life job, and Gomez didn’t want him to know about it. But he was right, the black Dongfeng was behind them again.

  “Should I put in manual and try to lose him?” Kat asked.

  “No. I think they’re just following us. We’ll keep an eye on them, and if they start to gain on us like they’re making a move, we’ll go to manual and lose them.”