The Astral Hacker (Cryptopunk Revolution Book 1)

by Brian Terenna

  The Astral Hacker

  Cryptopunk Revolution Trilogy

  Book 1

  BRIAN TERENNA

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1 – A Girl’s Hope

  Chapter 2 – Entering Hell

  Chapter 3 – Beware the Fire

  Chapter 4 – Self-Aware

  Chapter 5 – Hidden Conspiracy

  Chapter 6 – Chaotic Dangers

  Chapter 7 – Insanity

  Chapter 8 – Connecting the Dots

  Chapter 9 – A Sickening Realization

  Chapter 10 – Profound Corruption

  Chapter 11 – Comrade in Peril

  Chapter 12 – Remarkable Ally

  Chapter 13 – Greater Appeal

  Chapter 14 – No GMO’s for Us

  Chapter 15 – Puppet Master

  Chapter 16 – Shocking Betrayal

  Chapter 17 – Guns or Words

  Chapter 18 – It Ends Now

  Chapter 19 – Critical Mistake

  Chapter 20 – Bring on the Pain

  Chapter 21 – Haunting Regret

  Chapter 22 – The Pledge

  Chapter 23 – The Eye of Providence

  Chapter 24 – Renewed Determination

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2021 by Brian Terenna

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First published: March 2021

  Sunset over Peconic Books

  ISBN: 978-1-7367451-0-6

  Dedication:

  To avoiding our dystopian future.

  “The greatest tyrannies are always perpetuated in the name of the noblest causes.”

  Thomas Paine

  CHAPTER 1

  A GIRL’S HOPE

  I’ve survived demons and defied the Archfiend. I’ve clawed through five levels of hell and survived the fires. I’ll never stop fighting, and I’ll never break.

  I had a real mother once before I was subjected to foster care. She held me, cared for me, and was proud of me. But she died eleven years ago when I was six. My memories of her are only fleeting whispers in dreams.

  The years of one foster home hell after another have shaped me. My skin has become like iron, my will unbreakable, but my confidence has melted, and my anxiety dominates. For a long time, I dragged through life, trying to figure out how to eat and survive.

  After a run-in with the law, I knew I needed a better way. My solution was coding, and now it’s my entire life. I went from long days and late nights of driven studies at age nine to winning the NIA hacking challenge at ten. At eleven, I designed a life-changing program, but I shouldn’t talk about that. And for the last six years, I’ve learned and practiced relentlessly, constantly striving for perfection.

  I went from a half-starved wraith, wearing stained hand-me-downs, to a healthy teen with an elite reputation on the mesh-site, Progs. I have hundreds of royalty generating applications now. When I move out in a year, I’ll be able to support myself, use my resources to improve the foster care system, and hopefully, make some real friends. Maybe I’ll even find love.

  My life improved even more when, six months ago, I moved in with my kind and caring foster mother, Barbra. She cooks delicious meals, talks to me, and plays games. She even has me considering opening up to her, even though I haven’t had a real human connection in years.

  A loud pop and flash draws my gaze out the bedroom window to the sunny, tree-lined streets. I smile at the excited kids, too young or sheltered to be scared of the world yet. They wave New American flags and set off fireworks, too eager to wait for the night’s celebrations. I shift my position on the bed and adjust my black dress, the first new one I’ve had in…maybe ever. Barbra wanted to celebrate our first Freedom Day with style. It’s another positive on the unexpected and growing list of them.

  “Fae? Are you asleep?” asks Sunny, my best friend, who happens to be a three-foot-tall humanoid robot.

  I pull myself from my musings with a shake of my head, my dark curls whipping around. “Is this another one of your jokes? I know your sensory data would tell you if I’m asleep.”

  His glowing green mouth stretches into a grin as he shrugs. “You’re distracted. You were going to tell me what a blockchain is and about your foster care blockchain idea.” The humanlike inflection in his slightly robotic voice indicates his genuine interest.

  “A blockchain is a distributed ledger for decentralized data storage. It requires no third party. Because of that, administrative costs could be decreased to make foster care more efficient. You could even automate the financial jobs if you integrate a cryptocurrency into the blockchain. That way, foster parents will be paid directly, and children can be paid a stipend.”

  Sunny pushes aside some gears and wires as he works on some mechanical invention he’s making. “That would have allowed you to buy food.”

  “Right. Even though I figured out a way, I went through some rough years.”

  He sparks the soldering gun he recently installed in himself and attaches a computer panel to whatever he’s building. “What would you use the saved money on?”

  “Maybe give more to parents to get better applicants. Or you could put more into the vetting and training process.”

  “You could also allow foster children to rate their parents on the blockchain,” he says.

  He’s so clever. Despite his eleven-year-old body, his mind is only six years old and still developing. “That would be great. Low ratings would get them investigated, and several low ratings would get them dismissed.”

  He solders some wires as he nods. “That would have saved you much trouble.”

  Sure would have. “It will take a while to program the entire blockchain and devise the rest of the framework, but it will be the best. Then no one will have to go through what I did.”

  I want to think more about it, but my current concern assaults my mind like an invading malware. Do I help my friend?

  I glance at my quantum-link, the half-quantum, half-conventional computer on my wrist, and feel the pull of my game, Silent City, my other hobby. I wish I could join the imaginary world. It would be a quick escape, but then I’d be no closer to deciding.

  “Fae,” I hear Sunny say. He waggles his little humanlike fingers at me.

  I clear my head. “Yeah?”

  Sunny pushes aside some gears and wires as he retracts his soldering gun. “Look, I built a little friend. It’s like me.” He lifts a six-inch chrome robot. “Its arms and legs are proportional to mine, and its eyes light up. And watch….”

  He puts down a tiny robot, and it jogs around the carpet toward my old q-links on my bookshelf. My stomach tightens even though they’re outdated.

  Sunny, always perceptive, notices my concern and motions his hand. The mini replica turns and jogs back to him. “What do you have to say, Rice?”

  Rice? “What kind of name is that?”

  “You like rice. Don’t interrupt,” says Sunny as he motions to his creation.

  The little robot rotates to me and says, “Take me to your leader,” in an exact copy of my voice.

  Diablo. That’s creepy…but impressive. “There is no one else like y
ou, Sunny.”

  He smiles. “Nor you, Fae. Why have you been distracted lately? You made rare errors the last time you played Silent City.”

  My concerns settle back around me, darkening my mood. It’s time to face reality. I need to decide if I’m going to help my friend, Blaze. Maybe I can ask Barbra. “Do you think I can trust her?”

  Sunny looks down at his robot. “What an unusual question.”

  “Not your robot. I thought you were smarter than that.”

  “Only as smart as you made me.”

  My eyes go wide, and I look toward the door. “Shhh. Don’t ever talk about that.”

  He looks away. “Sorry, but I am grateful.” He puts his robot and other parts into his backpack, takes out his gray, stuffed seal, Bean, and climbs onto the bed with his extendable arms.

  I smile despite my difficult decision. “How come you still carry Bean?”

  He holds his seal tighter as he shimmies over to me. “Why don’t you carry Qubit anymore?”

  I glance at my stuffed bear. “The trials I’ve been through have aged me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.” I turn to gaze into the corner, then pull my knees up and rest on them. Should I trust Barbra? She’s been kind and seems to care about me.

  But I’ve seen what can go wrong when you trust someone. I can’t even believe I’m thinking about it. Trust. The word makes my stomach turn as I remember all the times it has failed me. But what choice do I have now?

  Sunny puts his hand on mine. “You seem unhappy.”

  I tilt my head to look at him. “No. I’m—”

  “Fae? Did you hear that?” my foster mother, Barbra, calls from the kitchen.

  “What?” I yell back. “The fireworks?”

  “No. Never mind, but if you hear anything, let me know.”

  That’s weird. “Okay.” I turn back to Sunny. “So…”

  “Yes?” he asks.

  “Do you think I can trust Barbra?”

  He looks back, his glowing green eyes unblinking. “How does one determine that?”

  “Don’t you know anything?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t have the emotional intuition you have, but maybe I can still help. Let’s analyze the situation.”

  “I can always count on you.”

  “You’ve wanted to be close to someone for as long as I’ve been alive…someone human, that is.”

  I want it more than anything. “People are like another species to me.”

  “You’ve been spending more time with Barbra, and it seems positive. Just because you’ve had negative experiences in the past doesn’t mean they will continue.”

  Negative. That’s an understatement. “Don’t get overly logical.”

  “I was simply stating something accurate and important,” he says.

  “Always very accurate. Almost robot-like.”

  “Almost.”

  “I need to figure this out soon,” I say, then sigh.

  “You should take your time until you have enough data to make a decision.”

  My stomach twists. “I don’t have much time.”

  “You’re only seventeen. You should have another—”

  I huff. “That’s not what I mean.”

  “Perhaps if you were clearer.”

  My friend Blaze’s plea for help slams back into my brain, like a hammer pounding a nail. I slump forward with the weight of it. Too many questions. Too much pressure. “Just watch this game footage.”

  “You play a game?”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re funny.”

  “It seems as though my research of humor is paying off.”

  I glance at my quantum-link and tell it, “Chim, access saved game footage 458.”

  Holographic 3D buildings in varying states of ruin materialize between crumbling streets and sidewalks interspersed with trees. My tall, powerfully built avatar stands next to Blaze, my second in command. A bright green headband holds back her wavy dark hair, and an assault rifle is holstered on her back.

  She looks at me, then away. Her full lips open and close, and then open again. “So…”

  My avatar looks at the ground, saying nothing.

  “We’ve had a lot of fun this last year,” she says.

  My avatar nods. “We’re a good team.”

  Blaze cracks a smile. “Remember that time you tricked RavenSuns into running back to their base just as they were about to win?”

  “Fake heat signatures. It never gets old.”

  “You saved me from de-leveling and losing my gear. That would’ve been cracked,” says Blaze.

  “You’ve saved me enough times.”

  She smiles, but then lowers her head and purses her lips. “I need something from you.”

  My avatar squints at her. “Are you trying to trade for my K10 laser again? You know it’s my favorite. Now, if you’re interested in my Orion flame thrower, we can talk.”

  She shakes her head, looking uncertain. “Not that. I need something out of game.”

  I remember my stomach tightening at the words.

  “I hate to bring you into this, but I’m in trouble.”

  My avatar stands there, firm and strong, but I suddenly feel shaky.

  “Let’s go to a private room where we can talk,” she says.

  Seconds later, we materialize next to the expensive-looking oak desk in my virtual office at our guild headquarters.

  She fidgets with her headband.

  “I know we haven’t talked much about our personal lives, but we’ve talked every day for a year, and I feel like we’ve become good friends.”

  I wasn’t as sure, but the suggestion warmed my heart. “I love our time in-game, and no one has more programming tips than you.”

  Her holographic face lights up, then dims a second later. “I…” she says but hesitates.

  My avatar taps nervously on her arm.

  “I recently went through something…it was terrible. It’s why I haven’t been in-game lately. I…want to tell you, but I can’t relive the details right now. I’m in a bad spot because of it. I lost my home and income, and I have medical bills to pay.”

  My heart wrenches again from the anguish in her voice. I know what it’s like.

  “Now, you don’t have to help me. I don’t want to bring you into trouble, but I need you for a hack. It’s the only way I’ll survive.”

  My stomach twists at hearing the words again. Do I help her or not?

  “You’re the legendary hacker, Blaze. You taught me tons in the last year. Why would you need me?” my avatar asks.

  She looks down. “It’s embarrassing, but I don’t program in SAS, and part of the attack needs that code. I know you can do it. This is risky for me, and if you don’t help, I might fail, but I’ll try anyway. If it helps you decide, my plan won’t hurt anyone. I would never do that. I don’t want to pressure you, and if you decide not to help, I’ll understand. It’s on in one week.”

  My avatar starts to open her mouth, and I remember not knowing what to say.

  “You don’t have to answer now. Just think about it.”

  The hologram fades away.

  I turn to Sunny. “You were in sleep mode when she asked me. I know you didn’t want me to hack anymore, so I didn’t want to bring it up.”

  “Still, you’ve done it many times since I told you it was risky,” he says. “Why not just help her?”

  I swallow. “I did something else you missed.”

  “What?”

  “It was an impulsive hack,” I say, feeling sick at the memory. “I didn’t even think it would work, but it went badly.”

  “Are you in trouble?”

  “No, it doesn’t seem like it,” I say.

  “Then what happened?”

  I shiver at the memory. I swear I’ll make amends someday. “I don’t want to get into that now, but I don’t want to hack anymore.”

  “What’s the problem then? Just don�
��t help her.”

  I sigh again. “It’s not that easy. You heard her. She’s in bad shape.”

  “So you want to help her?” asks Sunny.

  “Yes, in a way.”

  “You seem confused.”

  I stand and pace around my small bedroom, dragging my bare feet on the high carpet. “I am. I don’t want to hack, but Blaze needs me.”

  “I don’t think you should do it. You’re too important.”

  I run a hand over my face. “Thanks, but I can’t decide that easily.”

  “I wonder what happened to her?” he asks.

  “Who knows, but it sounded bad.”

  “Is she your good friend like she said?”

  “She’s something, for sure. We’ve been on a thousand missions together. She’s taught me tons of programming and hacking tricks. Plus, we talk every day about our gaming exploits. She’s like a friend, and I call her one, but I’m not sure if it’s true. We never even met in person, and you know my second law.”

  “Then why consider trusting your foster mother? That would also break the law.”

  He’s right. I drop back onto the bed. Sunny bounces and falls to his side.

  “Oops, sorry.” I reach out to help him up.

  A static shock jolts my hand, and I jerk it back. Oww.

  “You always drag your feet and shock yourself,” he says. “But we should get back to Barbra and the second law…”

  I sigh, preferring the temporary distraction. “You’re right,” I say, pulling at my shirt. “I created the law for a reason, but she’s not like my other foster demons. She treats me as well as my real mother did.”

  “You always speak highly of your mother. I wish I could have met her.”

  “She was everything to me. The only person who ever cared. You would have loved her. Can you get me my dad’s letter?”

  A small compartment on the side of his chest opens, and he hands me an envelope. I open it and take out my mom’s picture, the only picture I’ve ever had a physical copy of. I smile at the image of her in front of our red and blue family home. I keep the side with my father on it folded over. I never knew him, but I definitely don’t like him.