The Infinet (Trivial Game Book 1)

by John Akers

  Pax listened carefully, but he couldn’t hear anything. His body begged him to lie back down on the bed, but the prickle at the base of his neck remained. Almost involuntarily, he found himself getting onto his hands and knees and crawling slowly toward the edge of the bed. He reached out and swept his hand back and forth over it. Nothing. With a shock, he realized Gabe was gone.

  Twin spirals of panic and incredulity coiled around each other inside him. He knew someone—or something—was in the room with him. An instinct for self-preservation he had never felt before clawed its way into his consciousness, shoving the fear and drink aside. He knew he had to act quickly. He thought of making a dash for the elevator but knew he wouldn't make it three steps in the dark without tripping over something. Steeling himself against the panic that mutinously surged inside him, he swung his feet over the edge of the bed.

  “Lights!” he shouted as he sprang off the bed into a wobbly attempt at a ready stance.

  Light flooded the room, momentarily blinding him. He grimaced and squinted but forced himself to keep his eyes open.

  Nothing.

  His eyes darted around the room.

  Nothing.

  A mistake, he thought, with a sense of relief. Maybe the UV slipped off the edge of the nightstand, and the sound woke me?

  He glanced at the nightstand, and at the ground around it. His UV wasn’t there.

  Suddenly, he heard a tinny whisper, and his head snapped back toward the sound. Then he saw it.

  A hummingbird. Straight ahead, just a few feet away.

  What the—? Then he realized it wasn’t a hummingbird.

  Shit. Micro-drone.

  His astonishment at how it had gotten past his security system had barely registered when he heard a soft “pffft” and felt a sharp prick on the left side of his neck. He cried out and swatted at the hovering thing with one hand while reaching up toward the pain with the other. The drone darted to his left, wickedly fast, easily evading his lunge. Pax’s fingers found the tiny dart and pulled it out just as he heard a second pffft and felt another sting, this time on the right side of his neck.

  Snarling in pain and frustration, he dropped the first dart and grabbed for the second. He found it and threw it aside as well, but as he did he realized he no longer had control of his body. With a sickening feeling, he found himself reeling backward onto the bed. Blackness rippled in from the periphery of his vision. Suddenly, he remembered Project Aegis, and he felt a spasm of terror shoot icy tendrils throughout his body. Involuntarily, he tried to utter a desperate prayer to a nameless entity, asking it to not let him die, now that he had so much more to live for. But no words came out. His mouth hung open, senseless and silent as a dead fish. Then, a helpless surrender to darkness.

  The drone, less than two inches long, descended to a few inches above the floor. Remaining perfectly motionless, it emitted a complex series of noiseless electromagnetic pulses. A moment later, scores of small dark objects rolled slowly and silently from under the bed. Miniature faceted spheres, cylinders, and cones spread across the floor like a mechanized oil spill. They swirled around Pax’s feet, then swarmed on top of each other onto his legs. They continued up onto his body and the bed, then burrowed their way underneath his arms and torso. Gradually they began forming a giant wedge, and his upper body slowly began to rise as more and more shapes threw themselves behind it.

  Moments later, he was in a sitting position. The wedge dissolved and flowed around the front of his torso and arms, forming a black exoskeleton that in moments covered his entire body, except for his face. Acting together, tiny motors and magnets inside each one moved to lean Pax’s upper body forward. Then, just as it seemed he would pitch forward onto the floor, they thrust upward in unison, and his body rose to a standing position. His Univiz appeared from under the bed and was passed along, over the top of the objects, like a crowd surfer. It made its way to his head where it was positioned at an angle with the lenses resting on top of his forehead.

  The mummified Pax began walking forward with a smooth, even gait. The drone moved behind it, hidden from the camera above the elevator. In the absence of a UV retinal check, the elevator scanned Pax’s face with the camera.

  The doors opened. Pax and the drone entered, then moments later emerged onto the first floor. The front door performed the same facial recognition check as the elevator, then the Pax-machina walked out the door and down the driveway. The pedestrian gate next to the main vehicle gate verified his identity a third time, then he was walking down the street. A white Mercedes van pulled up quietly beside him and stopped. The side door slid opened and Pax stepped inside, followed by the drone. Then the door closed and the van drove off silently into the night.

  Part 3

  Our much-praised technological progress, and civilization generally, could be compared to an axe in the hand of a pathological criminal.

  Albert Einstein

  Chapter 22

  Saturday, 1:30 PM PT

  Pax awoke to a faint humming noise and a headache. He tried to open his eyes but found he couldn’t. Then he tried lifting his arms, but they didn’t respond either. Horrified, he realized he was paralyzed.

  A feeling of panic surged inside him, and he felt his heart pounding inside his chest. Then he felt his rapid breathing, and he felt a surge of hope as he realized that, whatever else had happened to him, his heart and lungs were still working.

  He remembered the drone and the darts. Whatever he’d been injected with must have paralyzed his somatic nervous system but not his autonomic system. Pax concentrated on his breathing, and after a little while felt both it and his heart rate slowing down. After what seemed like an eternity but he knew was just a minute or two, he tried to open his eyes again. To his immense relief, this time they fluttered open.

  There was a low light in the room, coming from somewhere behind his head. Above him, all he could see was what appeared to be some sort of dark glass several feet away. The reflection from the light showed the glass was curved, as though he was underneath the apex of a dome. He glanced down at his feet and saw he was lying on a large bed—but not his own. A second shock ran through him as he realized not only was he not in his bed, he was no longer in his home.

  There was a rustle behind him, and a deep male voice said, "He's coming to." Then a woman’s voice said, “Good. Right on schedule.” Both voices had accents that made it clear English was not their first language.

  Instinctively, Pax tried to gesture Gabe to display information about who was in the room with him. His fingers spasmed briefly, then stopped as he remembered he wasn’t wearing his Univiz. He felt another spike of panic. Without Gabe, he felt as naked and helpless as a baby. His eyes darted about, and once more his breathing became shallow and rapid again. Gabe is gone.

  He heard more rustling noises, and questions began to avalanche inside Pax’s head. Where am I? Who’s in the room with me? What do they want? What are they going to do to me? Where's Gabe? Uncontrollably, he tried once more to gesture to Gabe. His fingers began spasming again, but this time it continued and spread to his hands. Soon his arms too were shaking.

  “Shit, he’s seizing,” said the woman in a matter-of-fact voice as Pax felt his legs begin bouncing up and down as well. “Hold him, I’ll get the suppressant.”

  Pax felt a pair of large hands on his chest holding him firmly in place. In the background, he dimly heard the sound of someone rifling through objects in a box or bag.

  “Got it,” said the woman. Pax felt something being placed under his nose, then a pungent, bitter scent filled his nostrils. A soothing warmth soon suffused his head, and he felt his headache disappear almost immediately. The warmth flowed down his neck and into his spine, and his spasms began to subside. Then his arms, torso, and legs relaxed and became still. Pax felt sensation slowly coming back into his muscles, and he tried to move his arms again. This time he found he could, although only a little bit.

  “Should we try to sit him up?”
asked the man.

  “Okay, but make sure he doesn’t fall over,” said the woman. “He won’t have his balance for a little while yet.”

  One of the hands holding him moved under Pax’s back and pulled him up, while the other swiveled his legs around. Now he was sitting on the right edge of the bed, face-to-face with his captors.

  The woman was standing directly in front of Pax. She was tall, with tan skin and dark brown hair cropped at her jawline. She wore a lavender Univiz laced with silver specularities. Pax glanced over at the man holding his torso and found himself staring at his crotch. He looked up and saw he was looking at a giant. The man was at least a foot taller than the woman, and twice as wide as Pax at the shoulders. He had copper-colored skin, a dark crew cut, and a forest green Univiz. Both of them wore a loose-fitting tan tunic and pants.

  The woman reached behind her head with one hand and removed her Univiz. Her eyes were large and brown. She said, “Angelo,” then jiggled her Univiz at him before placing it down by the foot of the bed. The man started to let go of Pax, but then caught him again when Pax began to pitch forward.

  “I’ll get it,” said the woman. She reached up and pulled apart the magnetic tips of the man’s Univiz, then raised it up and over his head. Despite her height, she had to reach as far up as she could to remove it. She placed the man’s UV on the bed next to hers.

  Pax looked up again at the man’s face. His jaw looked as if it had been hewn from a block of solid granite. With a shock, Pax recognized he was the worker he’d seen Celia talking to on his back patio a few days earlier.

  “Can you talk?” the woman asked Pax.

  Pax looked over at her and tried to speak, but all that came out was a guttural noise.

  “Good, the paralytic compound has almost worn off. You’ll have control of your muscles again in a few minutes. Would you like some water?”

  Pax let his head fall forward in the best approximation of a nod he could muster. The woman reached over and picked up a glass with a clear liquid from a small nightstand next to the head of the bed. Pax noticed the nightstand was a strange light clay color. Then he noticed it seemed to be made of the same material as the walls and floor.

  The woman lifted the glass to Pax’s lips, and cool water flowed into his mouth and throat. He slurped messily at the glass, sloshing much of it over his lips and chin. The woman daubed at his mouth with a small towel that seemed to appear from nowhere. Then she took a step back so he could see her better.

  “My name is Elena,” she said. “And this,” she nodded toward the man, “is Angelo.” The man nodded down at Pax and said, “Hello.”

  “I should begin by apologizing,” said the woman, “for taking you from your home the way we did. I won’t try to explain the reasons now, but hopefully, once you know more, you’ll understand why we had to.”

  “Muh,” Pax said.

  The woman raised the glass to his lips again, and he drank greedily, feeling the water wash away the gritty feeling in his mouth and throat. Soon the water was gone, and she put the empty glass back on the nightstand.

  “There,” she said. “Now, try moving your arms again.” Pax did and found he could curl his forearms slightly. Gingerly he tested his wrists, shoulders, legs, and feet. They still felt sluggish, but he could move them. Strangely there was no discomfort as their typically was with novocaine or other surgical anesthetics, no aches or pins-and-needles feeling.

  “Very good. Are you hungry?” she asked.

  Pax realized he was famished. He hadn't eaten since his dinner with Cevis, and he didn’t know how long he had been unconscious. He felt as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He nodded.

  Elena walked over to the wall next to the head of the bed. A vertical line appeared in the wall and in a couple of seconds it had noiselessly widened into a doorway. Pax was astonished. It reminded him of the door to his office, but in this case the material where the wall had been seemed to have been magically absorbed into the wall itself. Elena stepped through it. As she moved, Pax noticed her clothing seemed different, somehow, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was that had changed.

  A moment later she returned holding a plate. Behind her, the opening in the wall narrowed back into a line and then disappeared. Angelo moved out of the way, and Elena placed the plate down on Pax’s lap. It had two large crepes and a fork. Ignoring the fork he picked up one of the crepes with his hands and bit into it. It was filled with Nutella. Although it was delicious, Pax felt an icy chill sweep over him.

  Pax had fallen in love with Nutella crepes on his first trip to Paris many years ago. The sidewalk crepe vendors there were ubiquitous, and the first one he’d ever tried had been filled with Nutella. He couldn’t believe how delicious it was. Nothing served from a grungy, chrome box by a sour-faced purveyor had any right to taste so sublime. For the next few years, whenever he’d had occasion to visit Paris, he always found a few minutes to sneak off by himself so he could forage for a Nutella crepe. It was a guilty, private pleasure that only he and Gabe knew about. But it had been at least five years since his last such venture. By then he had become so famous around the world he had to have security whenever he was in public, no matter where he went. For some reason, his love of crepes was something he hadn’t felt like sharing with the world, and so he’d stopped going.

  His throat tightened as he swallowed another bite. For these people to offer crepes to him was their way of saying, We know you. Not just the publicly available stuff, either. Everything. You have no secrets from us.

  "Glad you still like them,” said Elena, smiling at him.

  Chapter 23

  His hunger made Pax wolf down the rest of the crepe in just a few bites. But the second one he ate more slowly so he could take stock of his situation. Fortunately, both Elena and Angelo allowed him to eat without interruption. At one point while eating, he felt a strange sensation in his stomach. At first, he thought he might have overeaten, or that it might be gas. Then he felt it again, only this time it felt as if the bed underneath him had moved slightly. He looked up at Elena and Angelo, but they showed no reaction.

  After he finished the last bite, he licked his fingers and said, “Thanks, that was delicious.” He was relieved to hear his voice sounded normal again. “I trust it wasn’t poisoned.”

  Both Elena and Angelo smiled. “No, Mr. Pax,” said Elena, “the last thing in the world we want is to hurt you.”

  Pax arched an eyebrow at her but said nothing. He resolved not to act afraid. He leaned over and put the empty plate on the nightstand next to the glass. Then he faced them and said, “So—either of you want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Pax,” said Elena, “but we can’t tell you much right now. What I can tell you is we’re taking you to a place where everything will be explained to you.”

  “I trust you’re aware of the situation you’ve put yourselves in,” said Pax. “You two are setting yourselves up to spend a really, really long time in jail. Although if you were to take me back and release me immediately, I promise you I won’t press charges.”

  “We’re aware of the risks,” said Elena. “But it wouldn’t be up to you whether or not to press charges—kidnapping is a federal crime in the United States. Regardless, it’s a trivial matter compared to the issue we’re concerned with.”

  “Which is?“

  She shook her head. “Later.”

  “Can you at least tell me where we are? And how long you plan on holding me against my will?”

  She paused before responding. “You are on a boat on the Pacific Ocean, heading west. You’ll be with us for at least three more days.” With a smile she added, “More, should you choose to stay longer.”

  Pax gave her a smirk. “Nice try.”

  Without expression, Elena said, “Cancel room shade.”

  The darkness in the glass dissipated, and the room filled with bright sunlight, forcing Pax to shield his eyes with one arm. After a few seconds, his eyes
adjusted enough that he could view his surroundings. He pushed himself forward, into a standing position, and turned around.

  He was in a circular room with a clear dome. The only wall was the one Elena had walked out of a minute ago. The rest of the room gave a 270-degree view of the outside, and in every direction, as far as he could see, there was nothing but water.

  “Oh—my—God!” Pax yelled.

  “As I told you, you are on a boat,” said Elena. “This ship is much more technologically advanced than any ship ever made. Its design eliminates more than 95 percent of the normal motion of the waves. That, in addition to the fact your proprioceptive system is dulled by the neuralizer, is why you weren’t able to sense the boat’s motion.”

  “Where the hell are you taking me?” he cried.

  “I’m sorry, but we can’t tell you that right now, Mr. Pax,” she said.

  Pax stared out the window beyond the foot of the bed, in the direction the boat was moving. The room they were in appeared to be two floors above the main deck, which continued 70 to 80 feet before reaching the prow.

  Pax tried to calm down. In a tight voice, he said, “Look, if it’s money you want…”

  “We don’t want money, Mr. Pax,” Elena scoffed. “Money is the least of our concerns.”

  “Then what in God’s name do you want?” he yelled as he whirled around to face her. Elena didn’t move, but Angelo took a step forward, in front of her. The sheer size of the man penetrated Pax’s anger and forced him to calm down.

  “Look, do you really think you’re going to get away with this? You know who I am. Very soon there’s going to be a worldwide manhunt for me. In fact, it may have started already. Even out here on the ocean, you won’t be able to hide for long. I wouldn’t be surprised if the U.S. Navy isn’t closing down on our position already.”