by Ryk Brown
There was another flash of light, this time a reddish yellow. The image from the orb broke up and disappeared.
“I just lost an orb,” Graham yelled as the shuttle shook violently. “Fuck, I lost three of them, no, four!”
“Was it the military?” Arielle asked. “Did they disable them?”
“No, look!” Hanna pointed out the shuttle window. A plume of smoke rose to the left of the hovering shuttle, not more than a few meters away.
“Bomb!” the pilot shouted. “Hang on!”
Another flash of reddish yellow light, this time to their right, shook the shuttle again.
“I’m climbing!” the pilot yelled as the buildings began to fall away.
“Shit!” Graham grabbed hold of the overhead rail to steady himself. His orb case slid across the floor toward the open side door, but he managed to stick his foot in its path at the last moment.
The image feed from one of the orbs came back up on the porta-cam’s prompter view screen. Federal troops were firing like mad into the crowd as explosions went off all around them. Those that were not firing were dragging their wounded back from the crowd.
“Someone in the crowd is throwing explosive devices…” Hanna began.
“Those are incendiary grenades!” Graham shouted.
“…possibly incendiary grenades at the federal troops. Soldiers are returning fire with heavy energy weapons. Both sides appear to be retreating, but loss of life is undoubtedly heavy…”
They heard another explosion, this one closer than the last.
“This is bullshit!” the pilot exclaimed. “I’m getting us the fuck out of here, now!”
“…for both sides…”
The image on the porta-cam’s prompter view screen went dead, replaced a moment later by an image of Hanna’s face.
“I’ve lost them all,” Graham sunk into his chair, defeated.
Hanna let loose her hold on the side rail, adjusting her jacket and flipping her hair out of her face. She looked at the porta-cam and began speaking in shaky voice. “I’ve been told by our pilot that it is no longer safe for us to remain over the incident. This is Hanna Bohl, reporting to you live from downtown Brooklyn New York, where federal troops have just opened fire on protesters. Back to you.”
* * *
“Good morning, I’m Hanna Bohl. In the headlines this hour- Victim counts increase as the bio-digital plague continues to spread around the globe. World governments are beginning to shut down public transportation. Most major nations are imposing Martial law as rioting and looting continues unabated. Waiting times for removal of neuro-digital implants increase as technicians refuse to come to work for fear of infection or attack, and markets plummet as the global economy comes to a screeching halt. These stories and more, on your Netcast News World hourly update.”
The red light on the center camera went out and Hanna instinctively turned to face the one to her left, focusing her attention into another lens.
“As the third day of the Bio-Digital plague dawns, the number of those infected or killed by the Klaria virus continues to rise at an alarming rate. Latest reports from the GDCO show the number infected is now at fifty million, with the number of lives claimed at just over twenty-seven million. We go now to Milos Kuriatt, standing by at Global Disease Control Organization headquarters in Montreal.”
“Thank you, Hanna. Not since the bubonic plague more than a millennia ago, have so many people perished as the result of a single pandemic. At the current rate, the GDCO fears that the number of people infected by the Klaria virus could reach up to a billion. With incubation times of the current strain of Klaria being less than a day, the number of lives lost continues to multiply at a rapid rate. Earlier today, an epidemiologist who preferred to remain unidentified, remarked that it was ‘like someone turned on a switch and everyone got sick at once.’”
“Milos, has anyone at the GDCO confirmed that the Klaria virus was, in fact, delivered by the Twister digital virus via the neuro-digital implants?” Hanna asked.
“Hanna, that has been the primary question on everyone’s minds at the thrice-daily briefings here, unfortunately, the GDCO continues to assert that, although all indications seem to confirm that suspicion, it is still too early to draw any definite conclusions. However, they agree with Mercer Industries, manufacturers of the neuro-digital implants and the health nanites used by more than seventy percent of the Earth’s population, in recommending that everyone power off their implants and keep them off until the crisis has passed.”
“Thank you, Milos,” Hanna replied, turning to the next camera. “Today, Australia became the twenty-seventh nation to declare Martial law, as the general population continues to ignore the government’s pleas to remain in their homes and shelter-in-place. In every major country on Earth, frightened citizens are still roaming the streets, looking to gather whatever resources they can beg, borrow, or steal, often with disastrous consequences. In the American Federation, movement in most metropolitan areas has been severely restricted, with armed troops checking citizens for identification, weapons, and other contraband at various checkpoints across the continent. Authorities are urging people not to leave their homes unless absolutely necessary. Meanwhile, people find themselves unprepared for the crisis, with insufficient resources on hand. Officials in most countries are requesting citizens to hang a white towel or large cloth from their door if they are in need of food, water, or medical assistance. Although first responders are overwhelmed in most areas, relief agencies are preparing to circulate through populated areas to bring needed resources to those sheltering in place. However, officials warn that it may take days, possibly even weeks, for relief workers to reach everyone.”
As the story ended, Hanna shifted to face another camera. “The entire European transportation network has been shut down as of eleven hundred hours, Greenwich Mean Time. EU officials announced that the closure was due to the unknown nature of the virus’s transmission method. Officials promise to open the roads on a limited basis once they are certain that doing so will not contribute to further spread of the Klaria virus. Nations around the world have taken similar measures, as officials attempt to reduce congestion on major transit systems, in order to allow for the movement of relief workers and resources. In the American Federation, all intercity transit systems have ceased operation, and all state borders have been closed to all but emergency and disaster relief traffic.”
Hanna took a breath, turning to the center camera again as she continued the netcast. “Thousands of implant technicians refuse to report for work following yesterday’s outbreak of violence at the Mercer Implant Service Center in downtown Brooklyn, causing further delays in implant removal. A spokesperson at Mercer Industries announced that additional, armed security personnel will be added at most metropolitan service centers over the next few days. In further developments, a firmware patch that will limit the neuro-digital implant’s control of the user’s health nanites is in the works, and is expected to be ready for widespread release by week’s end. Mercer Industries continues to urge neuro-digital implant users to power down their implants until such time as they can be downgraded to an older version, have the firmware updated, or have the device removed entirely.”
Hanna paused and swallowed to remove a lump in her throat she had been struggling to ignore. “The Global Stock Exchange continues to enforce a hold on all trading for a second day after stocks across the board plummeted on the day the bio-digital plague was released. Officials at the exchange assured investors that the markets would reopen once the current crisis is under control. Economic experts predict disastrous effects on the Earth’s economy, as well as the entire system. Should the crisis continue for more than a few days, the economic fallout could reach as far as the core worlds. Meanwhile, here on Earth, the government’s freezing of all prices for goods and services has managed to stabilize the availability of basic resources. We take you now to Collin Porsu, on scene at one of the new government distri
bution centers in Duluth.”
“Thank you Hanna. From the Northwest Territories to the Panama Canal, regional distribution centers have been popping up in every state over the last twenty-four hours. The sole purpose of these facilities is to guarantee a steady supply of food, water, and other basic consumables to the people of the Federation. As you know, within the first thirty hours of the crisis, panicked citizens emptied the shelves of supermarkets across the continent. Federal disaster relief authorities are trying to get a distribution infrastructure into place as quickly and efficiently as possible, before people start to run out of food and water.”
“Collin, what about the people who were not able to stock their homes with the basic necessities? Those people are already facing shortages of food and water, are they not?”
“Indeed they are, Hanna, which is why disaster relief authorities will begin the distribution of consumables via heavy cargo shuttles within the next twenty-four hours. Again, authorities are asking citizens to hang a white flag, such as a sheet or large cloth, from their windows so that relief workers can easily identify which homes have urgent need of basics such as food, water, and hygiene items. In addition, managers of apartment buildings and condominium complexes are being asked to visit their tenants and determine any urgent needs that can then be passed on to the relief workers in their area. Also, anyone in need can visit the American Federal Disaster Relief Agency’s emergency assistance site and request relief.”
“Have disaster relief officials indicated how long those in need might have to wait for supplies?”
“Officials here have indicated that although the cargo shuttles should be flying tomorrow, it may take weeks for even the most basic supplies to reach each and every person in need. They are urging anyone with extra resources to share what they can with neighbors, so that everyone can get by until the basic necessities of life can again flow smoothly to everyone’s door. This is Collin Porsu, at the Duluth Disaster Relief Distribution Center. Back to you, Hanna.”
* * *
“Ninety-two percent,” the medical technician told them as she said as she came back into the exam room.
“Is that it?” Brent Tollison shook his head in disbelief. “But it’s been four days.”
“That’s actually pretty good for only four days,” Agent Oslo commented.
The medical technician turned to Hanna. “Most people take a week or more to flush such a large percentage of nanites out of their system. You must have very good kidneys.”
“I drink a lot of water,” Hanna replied as she pulled her NCNW blazer back on. She was spending so much time on the air that she had gotten into the habit of just wearing it all day long. She sighed. “I was sure I’d be nanite-free by now.”
“Well, for all intents and purposes, you pretty much are,” the technician told her. “It takes a minimum of half a million of them to be of any value. Most of us have two or three times as many swimming around inside of us. More, if you have problems that require ongoing maintenance. At only eight percent, what’s left couldn’t stop a runny nose.”
“Then it’s safe for her to turn her implant back on?” Agent Oslo inquired.
“Yes, I’d think so.” She turned to Hanna. “Would you like me to power it back on for you?”
Hanna looked at Agent Oslo.
“Only if you feel ready, Hanna.”
Hanna sighed. “I’m never going to feel ‘ready’, but… what the hell.” She nodded her approval to the technician. “Go ahead.”
The technician reached around the back of Hanna’s neck, feeling for her seventh cervical vertebrae. She pressed firmly directly below it, holding pressure for several seconds before releasing.
“It’s booting up,” Hanna blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to the display once more. “You know, it’s been weird these last few days without it. I’ve had an implant since I was a teenager.” She watched as her visual space lit up again for the first time in four days. “I think it’s up. It’s searching for a connection.”
“We’ve already entered your ID codes in NCN’s internal networks,” Brent explained, “so you won’t be directly connected to the public Internet at first.”
“That’s fine with me,” Hanna replied as she watched the status reports in her personal visual space. “It’s connecting now. I’ve got messages. A lot of them. One of them is marked urgent.”
“Who is it from?” Agent Oslo asked.
Hanna’s expression changed. “It says ‘Unknown’,” she replied, her voice growing quieter as she remembered the last time she received a message from the self-proclaimed creator of the bio-digital plague. “Should I open it?” she asked, hoping the answer would be no.
“Of course,” Brent told her.
Hanna swallowed hard. “Okay, here it goes.” She commanded the communications firmware in her implant to open the message. A sudden wave of relief washed over her. “It’s from my parents. They’re alive.”
“Why didn’t your system ID them?” Brent wondered.
“They had to use a public comm-station. They’re afraid to turn on their implants.”
Brent smiled. “That’s great news, Hanna. Find out where they are, and I’ll send a shuttle to pick them up, along with Arielle’s family.”
“Thank you.”
“And the other messages?” Agent Oslo wondered.
“Mostly from dispatching agents, from right after we shut down our implants,” she said, her eyes darting back and forth as she quickly scanned her messages over the last four days. “A few friends, an old boyfriend…”
“Well, it might take a few minutes for Unknown to realize you are back on the net,” Agent Oslo said.
“He might not care,” Hanna replied, a glimmer of hope in her tone.
“Well, we’re linked into your messaging system, Hanna. I just received a confirmation message from Agent Lund. If Unknown does contact you, we’ll know it.” Agent Oslo looked Hanna in the eyes, his expression more serious than usual. “If he does contact you, and you feel the slightest bit threatened… If you feel any pain, or discomfort, and you think he might be the cause of it, you power down your implant immediately. Agreed?”
“But, she said I didn’t have enough nanites left in me…”
“I don’t care what she said,” Agent Oslo insisted. “Until five days ago, we all thought our implants, and our health nanites were perfectly safe. Whoever this ‘Unknown’ guy is, he is very good. So don’t take chances. If you feel something is wrong, you power down. Understood?”
“Understood,” Hanna replied.
* * *
Hanna sat drinking her coffee in the break room, enjoying a moment of quiet. It had been a whirlwind week for her, an emotional roller coaster that had far more downs than ups. At least now, whenever she was forced to report another grim statistic or witness more human suffering, she could find solace in the knowledge that her parents and her best friend’s family and fiancé were all safely tucked away several floors above her. That alone was enough to get her through each day.
Three days had passed since Hanna had reactivated her neuro-digital implant. At the time, she had half expected ‘Unknown’ to start messaging her immediately. She had relished the thought of being able to say whatever she wanted to the bastard without fear of retribution. She had even spent hours with Graham and Agent Oslo rehearsing how to goad Unknown into divulging some critical detail that might lead to his arrest. Martin was very skilled at interrogation and made for an excellent coach, and Graham… well, being a natural born egomaniac made him a very convincing stand-in for a genocidal psychopath.
Of course, capturing the creator of the plague would not bring back the dead, nor was it likely to stop the spread of the disease. That moment had passed, and there was no turning back. All they could do was ‘march forward and make the best of things,’ as Brent liked to say… a lot.
“Just get back?” Constance said casually as she entered the break room.
“Huh?” Hanna wa
s startled by the question, and the fact that it was directed towards her.
“The jacket?” Constance replied, pointing as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
Hanna looked down, realizing she hadn’t taken off her field jacket. It was built for functionality rather than style, with lots of pockets, the NCNW logo, and the word ‘Press’ across the back. It was a mandatory piece of equipment for everyone going out in the field these days, and Hanna found herself wearing it more than anything else in her wardrobe. “Oh. I guess I forgot to take it off,” Hanna said, sliding the jacket down off her shoulders.
“Tough assignment?” Constance asked sympathetically.
“Not really, just a long week, I suppose.”
“No kidding,” Constance agreed, gesturing at the open seat across from Hanna. “May I?”
Hanna looked up. Constance had dark circles under her eyes, and she looked as bad as Hanna felt. “Sure.”
“We never really met,” Constance said as she pulled out a chair and sat down. “I mean, we’ve seen each other around, both here and out in the field before all of this. But we’ve never talked.”
“Yeah. Well, those in the bigs never really had much time for us indies,” Hanna replied, immediately regretting her resentful response.
“I never did like the way that whole system worked.”
Constance took a sip of her coffee. “You know, when you’re the one being snubbed by those in the bigs, you tell yourself that you’ll never be like that, that you’ll never forget where you came from. But then you get that break, and you get swept up by it all. Everywhere you go, people recognize you. They want to talk to you, have their picture taken with you, help you get things, take special care of you. It goes to your head really fast, and before you know it, you’ve turned into the type of person you swore you’d never become.”
Hanna stared at her empty mug. “I never thought about it like that. Wait, you were an indie? But you’re like what, twenty-five, maybe?”
“I got lucky early on,” Constance admitted. “Batted my eyelashes at a congressman. He wanted to sleep with me so bad he would have told me anything.”
