by D. B. Goodin
The song sounded different to Stewie.
I must have heard it before in Mother’s collection.
This version contained a synthetic beat that contained other instruments, such as drums and other percussion instruments that he couldn’t place. It made the song a lot more upbeat than the solo piano that he remembered as a boy. He liked the beat he was hearing.
Stewie made his way around the circular building.
I saw the girl head this way. Need to find how. Then he spotted it.
Stewie grabbed ahold of the metal ladder. The music was so loud that it reverberated into his hands. The sensation was disorienting. He almost lost his grip on the ladder as the music intensified. Stewie made his way up to the first landing. He could see the girl high above; it looked like she was trying to open the next set of ladders.
There’s still time to stop her. Got to get closer.
Stewie hurried to the next set of ladders. He was out of breath by the time he got to the top platform. He caught another glimpse of Alice just as he started ascending the ladder.
She’s headed for the dome!
He ducked behind a large metal vent; he didn’t want to make himself a target in case she carried a weapon. Stewie put on his oversized goggles; he looked like a mad scientist with his top hat and metal-framed goggles, but he always favored practicality over style. He used the zoom feature on the goggles to get a better look at Alice’s activities. He lost his train of thought as a crazy-fast version of “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” picked up, placed to a beat that sounded too fast for the tune. All the instruments were playing faster than a human could.
He saw Alice remove a panel off a box; circuits and wires were visible. The music stopped. Stewie jumped.
While Alice’s back was to Stewie, he ran to the ladder and descended. Just as he made it to the platform below the dome, there was movement from above.
Crap—she’s descending, and quickly.
Stewie was just below Alice. He was trying to stay out of sight.
A few seconds later the music stopped, along with his special visor.
What’s wrong?
He removed his googles and looked up—just in time to see Alice falling toward him.
Before Stewie could react, Alice Parsons landed on him. His head whacked against something hard. He could taste something metallic. His vision faded.
9
Newark, New Jersey, March 2049
Hugh Parsons drove faster than he ever had. The recent downpour had made driving conditions unpredictable. He tried staying off the major roads because they would be busy with rush-hour traffic. He made a turn onto an access road that ran parallel with the parkway. The car seemed to glide over the water, but it still found traction. He corrected the vehicle. In the back seat, his wife was screaming, and his baby girl was crying as blood dripped from her nose.
Daddy will let nothing happen to you, just hold on, Hugh told himself. Just another five minutes is all I need.
“Hugh, slow down,” his wife Elizabeth yelled.
He obeyed, but he felt like someone was trying to grab his heart. Soon he saw the red hospital sign. His breathing slowed. A doctor would help his girl soon.
Several hours later, Dr. Ruben came into the waiting room. The doctor had a grim expression on his face.
“Mr. Parsons, I’m afraid I have some unpleasant news.”
“What’s wrong with my baby girl?” Hugh said, standing up with Elizabeth at his side.
Dr. Ruben didn’t answer; instead, he asked a series of rapid questions.
“Has Alice ever experienced sudden, severe headaches? Any weakness or numbness in her body? Any seizures?”
“She’s had headaches since she was two, but they always go away,” Elizabeth said.
“After several scans and other tests, I think your daughter is suffering from a malignant brain tumor.”
“Oh my . . .” Elizabeth trailed off.
“What options do we have?” Hugh asked.
“We have several options. A full course of anti-cancer drugs, radiation treatments, and . . .” Dr. Ruben trailed off.
“And what?” Hugh demanded.
“There is a new trial treatment that shows promise, but it’s untested on someone so . . . young.”
“Doctor, what option would you choose if you had her tumor?”
Dr. Ruben seemed surprised by the question. He was silent for a long time, but then he said, “Radiation treatments are too invasive, and I wouldn’t recommend them for her. A full course of medicine seems the safest approach, but there is nothing approved for malignant tumors. This new experimental procedure requires surgery, but it is less invasive compared to the standard approach. This new treatment has shown promise—I’ve seen patients make full recoveries. So . . . I would choose the trial treatment. She’s only four but I can tell she’s a fighter.”
Hugh’s mouth went dry and his throat constricted, but after a few moments he regained his composure—a little, anyway.
“Doctor, please step us through the procedure,” Hugh said.
“Instead of cutting through bone to get access to the brain, we will make a small incision just behind her ear. Then we insert a microchip near the tumor. The purpose of the chip is to shrink and eliminate the tumor.”
“Any side effects?” Elizabeth asked.
“Patients have reported headaches from time to time. Another patient who worked in a plant that produced a strong magnetic field had his chip damaged, which caused intense pain. So as long as your daughter stays away from powerful energy fields or magnetic pulses, she’ll be just fine.”
Hugh looked at his wife; she nodded her approval. He kissed her, then gave the doctor permission to proceed.
“There’s one other thing,” Dr. Ruben said. “These procedures can be expensive—”
Hugh cut Dr. Rueben off. “Anything. I will work five jobs to pay for this if I have to. Just make sure she gets better.”
Lenox Hill Hospital, New York City
Tuesday July 21st, 2071
Alice awoke to an intense light. Several people were talking. Someone put a mask over her face.
Where am I? Everything is so blurry—need to rest. Goodnight . . . moon!
Alice reawakened to the sound of machines. As her vision cleared, she saw two women at her side, her mother and Lindsey.
“She’s awake,” Lindsey said.
Alice tried waving her hand to her best friend. The attached IVs made movement painful—or perhaps it was because her right arm was in a sling.
“What happened to me? The last thing I remember was falling,” Alice said.
Alice looked at her mother; a tear ran down her face. Growing up her mother was tough. Except for yelling, her emotions were in short supply.
“When you were young, you had a brain tumor,” her mother explained. “Instead of a full surgical procedure, we tried an experimental procedure instead. A microchip was put inside your brain to help heal the tumor over time. Something happened at the concert hall. It caused your chip to fail.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alice asked, alarmed. “I’ve had this thing hardwired into my brain all this time?”
Elizabeth Parsons looked confused. “That chip saved your life,” she said.
“It’s unnatural,” Alice said.
“Alice, if it helps you live, then it’s a small price to pay,” Lindsey said.
“What were you doing on top of MuseFam Hall, anyway?” Elizabeth asked in an accusing tone of voice.
Alice didn’t answer. She looked out her hospital window.
“Alice, tell me that your not involved in that terrorist act—many people died that day,” Elizabeth said.
Alice closed her eyes. She remembered the bright golden dome with its brilliance before everything got blurry.
“What happened?” Alice asked.
“At MuseFam Hall, or your accident?” Elizabeth said.
“I remember falling . . . what caught me?”
>
Lindsey and Alice’s mother shared a look.
“They found you atop a man dressed in a trench coat, top hat, and other strange stuff. I had Brian ask around, and the police think this man was following you. He broke your fall—along with his neck. The police pronounced him dead at the scene,” Lindsey said.
“Anyone know who he was?” Alice asked.
“Yeah, he had a strange name, like a bird—”
“Hawk?” Alice interrupted.
“Yes, that sounds right,” Lindsey said.
Alice tried to sit up. Pain shot through her back and right arm. She winced in pain. Lindsey put some pillows behind Alice so she could sit up.
“I was at MuseFam Hall enjoying the performance when almost everyone in the audience started brawling,” Lindsey said. “Brian got me out, but not before I took a few punches to the head. The police said it was some kind of nerve agent. That was just before the bomb—”
“The E-Bomb?” Alice cut Lindsey off.
“How do you know about that? You’ve been in the hospital since it went off.”
“Just tell me what happened!”
“The way it was explained to me was that an electromagnetic pulse bomb went off— That explosion caused everything electronic to be destroyed.”
“In just MuseFam Hall?”
“No—in all of Midtown Manhattan. Everything was affected. Everything electronic, that is. Some newer flying vehicles came crashing down. People died, Alice.”
Alice’s lip quivered, and tears blurred her vision.
“How many?” she asked.
“I don’t know—maybe four or five people?” Lindsey said.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen!” Alice said as more tears came.
She buried her face in her hands. The tears kept flooding. Alice felt horror as she processed Lindsey’s information.
I’m responsible for these people’s deaths?
She sobbed, and memories from her past and present flashed before her eyes. The emotional impact was sudden and deep. Somehow, she felt lighter as the tears poured from her.
Central Park, Saturday, July 4th 2071, 3:42 p.m.
“Officer Rollins, do you copy? Rollins? Are you there?” the dispatcher said.
How did I get here? Rollins wondered. Oh yeah . . .
He remembered. His day had had the most peculiar start; he’d awoken feeling hopeful. That good feeling lasted until just after lunch. He had made two arrests. If this kept up, he would easily make his monthly quota. Rollins loved patrolling the Central Park area. The perpetrators usually limited their activities to crimes of opportunity: an occasional purse thief, or a drunk and disorderly arrest—no big deal. That all changed at 2:58 p.m.
Officer Jack Rollins could hear the dispatcher, but he had no way of reaching the radio. His legs were pinned underneath his patrol car. From his vantage point, he could see at least eight or nine cars around him, scattered about haphazardly. Bodies accompanied the cars; some had been thrown through the windows of the flying cars when they went down. His visor displayed nothing. It was as if someone had turned it off. He reached for his backup personal phone. It was an older model, but he could make calls if his visor wasn’t working.
What the hell happened?
He remembered getting a briefing about the radios in the patrol cars; he remembered something about shielding, but that memory was fading. He remembered learning that the shielding was important to protect against electronic attacks. Then the memory was . . . gone.
Must be the ringing in my head! Are we under attack?
He could see smoke just over the trees that separated the park from the Upper West Side.
Lenox Hill Hospital, New York City
Thursday July 23rd, 2071
Alice perked up when the nurse came into her room. She was still recovering from her accident.
“Nurse, do you think I will be able to leave soon?” she asked.
The nurse took her vitals and examined the chart.
“You’re doing a lot better after your surgery, so I don’t see why not,” the nurse replied.
“Surgery? When did that happen?”
“I will let the doctor explain,” the nurse said as she left the room.
Alice had tried to get her visor working again. Her cell phone had also stopped working.
I wished I’d asked Lindsey to deliver my visor to Nigel.
Moments later a doctor entered her room.
“Hello, Alice do you remember me?”
Alice recognized the man. He was not only an old family friend; he was the man who saved her life all those years ago.
“Dr. Rueben?”
“Yes, that’s right,” the doctor said, extending a hand.
“The nurse said I had surgery. Am I sick?” Alice asked in a worried tone.
“No, it’s been several weeks since the surgery, and your body is accepting the new implant. I have been reading the nurses’ reports, and you seem to be recovering well enough,” Dr. Rueben said.
“Then why am I still here?”
“We want you here for another night for observation, but I think we can release you after that.”
Dr. Rueben looked into both of her eyes and rechecked her vitals.
“Yeah, I think you are in good enough shape—I will let the officer know,” Dr. Rueben said as he left.
Officer?
Alice resumed her visor troubleshooting efforts; her heart soared when she thought she saw a light appear on the visor, but she realized it was just a reflection.
“Hello, Ms. Parsons,” a man’s voice said.
Alice was examining her visor and didn’t notice that anyone had entered. A tall man in a police uniform was standing at the foot of her bed.
How long has he been there? Am I going to be arrested?
“Hi . . . Who are you?” Alice asked in a weak voice.
“I’m Officer Jack Rollins—I was one of the first officers responding to the incident at MuseFam Hall.”
Alice felt like someone had hit her. Her mouth went dry, and her tongue didn’t seem to work properly.
“What . . . do you want with me?”
“I’m investigating the incident at MuseFam Hall on the 4th. There’s still a lot of unanswered questions. I would have been here sooner, but I was told that you were in no condition to speak. But I’m here now, and I’m hoping we can spend some time together,” Officer Rollins said, pulling up a chair.
After all the events and strange experiences over the past couple of months, Alice had given little thought to what life would be like after the E-Bomb blast. She had gotten caught up with everything. Suddenly she wished she had never gone along with the E-Bomb conspiracy.
What am I going to do now?
Continue the Adventure
I hope you enjoyed reading Ensemble. I invite you to continue Alice’s adventure with Ramble. The exciting follow-up to Ensemble.
I invite you to join my reader group to learn more about this book. To sign up visit: www.cyberoverture.com
Buy Ramble and it will be delivered to your eReader immediately.
Acknowledgments
Developmental and Copy Editing by Hayley Evans
Proofreading by Beth Dorward
Beta Reading by Matt Machin
Cover Design by 100 Covers
About the Author
D. B. Goodin has had a passion for writing since grade school. After publishing several non-fiction books, Mr. Goodin ventured into the craft of fiction to teach Cybersecurity concepts in a less intimidating fashion. Mr. Goodin works as a Principal Cybersecurity Analyst for a major software company based in Silicon Valley and holds a Masters in Digital Forensic Science from Champlain College.
Also by D. B. Goodin
Cyber Overture
Sonorous
Chromatic
Resonance
Ensemble
Ramble (Fall 2020)
Cyber Teen Project
White Hat Black Heart
War With Black Iris
The Making of Cyber Teen Project
Reckoning of Delta Prime (Summer 2021)
Cyber Hunter Chronicles
Mark of the Triad
Dark Syndicate Rising (2021)
Cleansing of Megalopolis (2021)
Cyber Hunter Origins
Synapse of Ash (Fall 2020)
