The Astral Hacker (Cryptopunk Revolution Book 1)

by Brian Terenna

  The tarp zips off the statue and reveals Navin Briggs dressed in a military jacket, his medals showing proudly. His raised fist glows with holographic radiance, and his raven stands guard on his shoulder, its wings spread.

  Looks great. I glance at Barbra to see her reaction.

  She’s staring into the corner, her brow furrowed.

  I wait for her to turn back, but she just keeps staring. “Barbra?”

  She starts and turns back to me. “What were we talking about? The garden?”

  I squint at her. What? “No. You were watching the unveiling.”

  “Oh, yes.” She turns back to the holograms. “That’s wonderful. Have you ever been to the National Mall?”

  I shake my head. Not there or anywhere else.

  “I’ll take you on a trip there now that school is over.”

  I smile at her. My first vacation.

  We finish eating, and I start washing the dishes. “Barbra, can I tell you—”

  “Hold on. I heard something.” She jumps up and jogs to the living room with a surprising amount of energy for someone who has the flu.

  What? I didn’t hear anything.

  “You’re not getting in here,” she shouts.

  Adrenaline shoots through me. What the hell? I grab a kitchen knife and sprint into the living room.

  Barbra holds her bat ready, scowling out the window unlike I’ve ever seen her.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, my heart pounding.

  Barbra wheels on me. “How did you get in here?” she demands, her typically cheerful smile lines suddenly looking menacing.

  I twist around, my knife ready, expecting to see a burglar.

  There’s no one there.

  “Get out of here now, or you’re going to get it,” she shouts, looking right at me.

  “What? It’s me, Fae.”

  She seems to recognize me for a second, but then it’s gone, and her eyes fill with anger. “Die!” She lunges toward me and swings wildly.

  Diablo! I dodge away reflexively. Though I’ve never had to dodge Barbra before, it’s clear my instincts are still sharp.

  She smashes through a lamp and into her Samuel Adams painting. I stare at its ripped surface in horror.

  She swings again.

  I try to leap backward to avoid the strike but slip to the ground. My knife flies from my hand. The bat whistles just above my head.

  In a flash, I bolt up and into my room. I press myself against the door, panting and wishing it had a lock. Oh hell, this is crazy.

  Barbra throws herself against the other side. Her weight sends me sliding back slightly. Not enough to allow her in but enough for the carpet to burn my bare feet.

  Sunny, seeing me hold the door, jumps off the bed and runs over. He braces it with his extendable arms, and although he’s small, he’s stronger than he seems.

  “How dare you threaten my child!” Barbra slams the door again.

  It hits my head, but I barely feel it. What’s going on?

  She pushes again with sustained strength. Sunny and I slide an inch but manage to hold.

  “Diablo,” says Sunny. “What happened, Fae?”

  I ignore him and shout, “It’s me. It’s me.” My eyes dart around my room, looking for a better solution to hold the door. The bed would help, but it’s too heavy to move quickly. The chair!

  “Sunny, hold the door.” I jump up and bolt over to the chair.

  Barbra pounds the door again, and Sunny falls backward.

  My heart leaps. “No.” I sprint back and push the door shut, hoping I don’t hurt Barbra in the process, but terrified she’s going to hurt me.

  I wedge the chair under the doorknob and hold it with both hands. Sunny pushes himself up and helps me.

  A second passes. Then another.

  Maybe she left—

  Something crashes into the door with a loud bang, and then again, louder. “Don’t you hurt her!”

  The hollow door shakes with each impact. Bang. Bang. Bang.

  I was a fool to let my guard down.

  The bat smashes through the middle of the door and slams into my chest.

  I lurch back in shock and gasp at the pain, then in desperation, I regain my footing and secure the chair. “Stop. Stop. Go away!”

  Sunny lets go of the chair and runs over to his bag.

  “What are you doing?”

  He ignores me, rummages around in his bag, and pulls out the tiny robot he made. He dashes back and throws the robot through the hole.

  Sunny moves his mouth, but no words come out. Instead, a deep voice sounds from somewhere behind Barbra. “Ma’am. This is the police. We’re here to help.”

  I jump at the voice, but then realize what’s happening.

  “Thank God,” says Barbra. Her footsteps cross the room.

  I hold the door, still tense, my heart pounding. I listen carefully for any indication she might come back as I glance at the two windows for a possible escape.

  After a few minutes, I ask, “Do you think it’s over?”

  “Impossible to say. I recommend we keep holding the chair.”

  I nod.

  We hold the chair for twenty minutes, barely moving.

  Eventually, I drop down with a tense sigh and rub my temples. I’m exhausted and frazzled.

  “That was not consistent with her personality,” says Sunny.

  I shake my head, feeling like the world is spinning. That was cracked. “I don’t understand. She thought I was an intruder.”

  “She saw you as someone else?”

  “It seemed that way,” I say.

  “A hallucination, perhaps.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  “There are several medical conditions involving hallucinations, as well as several hallucinogenic drugs…LSD, psilocybin, mescaline—”

  “No, not drugs.” I know what that looks like.

  “Schizophrenia, perhaps. Does she have paranoia?” he asks.

  “Apparently now she does.”

  “Delusions?”

  “Maybe…”

  “Without more data, I can only assume it’s schizophrenia.”

  I run my fingers through my thick curls and hold my head. “What do we—”

  Boom.

  I jump, but as I see the shimmer of another firework outside, I relax. “I could call child services, but they’d take me away.”

  Sunny extends an arm to grab his seal and holds him in one arm. “Maybe that would be for the best.”

  I wring my hands. “Is this treatable? Could she be normal again?”

  “Yes, there are several effective medications. Trioxidine, Statrenadol—”

  I wave my hands. “That doesn’t matter now. I don’t want to risk calling child services.” Barbra cares about me, at least.

  “Take her to the doctor then.”

  “I can’t drive until I’m eighteen. Plus, we’d have to get her to agree to go.”

  “Sounds dangerous,” he says.

  “And scary.”

  Sunny nods.

  “Ambulance,” I say. I’ve never called one and, somehow, it makes me even more anxious. I suck it up and lift my q-link closer to my mouth. “Chim, call nine-one-one.”

  After the call, I rub the dent on Sunny’s head that he got protecting me. I flash back to my fifth hell.

  An old burly demon raises a belt. Sunny leaps in front of me to block the strike. The demon growls and swats him aside. Sunny smacks his head on a metal table. I try to run to him, but the demon’s claws gouge into my arm.

  He leans in, his breath sour. “Don’t do it again. Go pick up your toy.”

  I jog over to Sunny and help him up. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t feel pain, but you do. I didn’t want you to get lashed by the belt again.”

  The memory fades, but Sunny’s love and dedication remain. I rub the dent again, and tension flows from my body.

  CHAPTER 2

  ENTERING HELL

  “Fae? It’s
me. I’m home,” says Barbra from the front door.

  I tense up. It’s only been a few hours since she left for the hospital, and I’m still wary from her outburst. At least when I called the ambulance, I was composed enough to lie to them. I left out the violent details and didn’t mention foster care in case that would cause us issues.

  I peek out of the room. She walks over slowly as if not to startle me. I wilt back but hate that I’m scared of her.

  A pained expression touches her face, and she holds up her hands. “Everything should be fine now. They put me on Trioxidine, which is a schizophrenia drug, and on a minor tranquilizer. Even if I have a relapse, I won’t get angry now.”

  I nod hesitantly.

  “When I came to my senses, and you told me it was you I attacked, I was so mortified. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” I say, but I’m not sure if it is. It was terrifying to have Barbra’s rage directed at me. I never thought she’d do anything like that.

  “I don’t think I’ll have a relapse, but I want to make sure you’re safe,” she says. “If you want, I’m sure we can find you another good foster home. It would only be for a year.”

  Panic grips me. The thought of having to risk another home is more than I can bear. All my foster homes have been hell, but this wasn’t her fault. Even though it might take me time to feel comfortable again, I want to be here for her.

  My fifth law of survival pops into my head. Only help people if there’s no risk. I ignore it and say, “I want to stay.”

  Relief floods her face, and her chubby cheeks puff out as she smiles. “Just in case, I’m going to fix your door and put a lock on it. I’ll also get rid of the baseball bat.”

  ☼☼☼

  I place my q-link on my chair and stand to the side. “Chim, access my game, Silent City.”

  An interactive post-apocalyptic city materializes around me. The holograms are so seamless that it’s blissfully easy to forget there’s any other world.

  My mind drifts as the rest of the game loads. It’s been a few days since Barbra’s episode. Fortunately, the prescribed medication has been extremely effective. Despite that, I decided to read about the disorder so I can help her if something else happens.

  She made good on her promise to spend time with me. We watched TV and movies, played holo cards, and board games. She even showed me how to paint. Unfortunately, my painting looked like a two-year-old painted it with her toes.

  It’s still strange to hang out with an actual person, but it’s definitely enjoyable.

  Now that things are back to normal, I can enjoy my summer again, by playing Silent City and programming my foster care blockchain. For a moment there, I was worried that I slipped into the sixth level of hell. I avoided that, but I’m still no closer to deciding if I’m going to do the hack for Blaze. I’ll have to ask Barbra what she thinks soon.

  Sunny sits on my bed, building something new with his electrical and mechanical parts. His seal, Bean, lies next to him.

  I take a second to admire my poster of the four-time world champion of Silent City, Jack Trackton, and wonder if his eyes are that mesmerizing in real life. It’s too bad he plays on a different server.

  “Watch out,” says Sunny, pointing behind me.

  I whirl around to my game and flinch back as two holographic zombies speed around the corner of a building, their mouths wide and frothing.

  I whip out my holographic Trexstar K10 laser, and with two pulls of the trigger, their heads disappear. Their bodies stumble forward with their necks still smoking, then collapse.

  I march in place, but the holograms pass by like I’m walking forward. I reach our guild headquarters, a large building draped in green and white banners. Two guards, dressed in bulletproof vests and holding the latest military rifles, salute me.

  “Commander, thank God you logged in,” the smaller one with a beard says. “You better talk to Blaze. The you-know-what is hitting the fan.”

  “StarFeather,” Blaze says in greeting from across the room. She’s tense and prickling with an urgency I can almost see.

  Next to her, is my burly sergeant, TigerShadow.

  “Report,” I say to Blaze.

  “The DarkTraders broke the temporary truce and gunned down two of our squads. They have thirty troops headed here right now, and twenty more guarding their base. We have about five minutes.”

  Hell, that’s cracked.

  “Commander, I have a suggestion,” says TigerShadow.

  I nod to him to go on even though my heart pounds at the coming attack.

  “This scenario reminds me of an episode of Lost: The Return. The Others broke a truce with the lost crew. Even though the Others had superior numbers and strength, the lost crew held them off in a narrow path through cliffs.” He brings up a holographic map between us. “I recommend we take this path,” he says, drawing on the map with his finger. A red line marks where he draws. “I think we’ll have enough time to get to this bottleneck. Then we can choke those lying vermin off.”

  It’s not his worst suggestion, but it still won’t work. The narrow point would temporarily even the odds, but they could easily backtrack half of their troops around the building and take us from behind…from behind. I want to laugh but know it’s not the time. “We’re outnumbered three to one. They’ll eventually overwhelm us.”

  “Oh, I suppose you’re right, Commander,” he says.

  “Listen up, everyone,” I call out.

  The surviving members of FreedomFire gather around me, looking dejected and nervous as they fidget and scan the area.

  I stand straight-backed, my chin high, and look fondly over my guild. It’s been a year now, and I know their personalities better than anyone. ForrestMinx and her dirty jokes make me imagine what a big sister would be like. Dragonfly is always looking to rush into the fight, especially when we’re outnumbered. And Striker is always shocking people with her choice of jewelry, like her zombie finger-bone necklace.

  I savor the camaraderie even as my mind spins through the crazy plan I’m crafting to give us a real chance.

  I clear my throat, and then in my commander’s voice, I say, “Yes, we’ve been weakened by this surprise attack, but we always fight to the last person. Together, we’ve thrashed every other team on the way to the finals. There are not many of us left, but you all know how fierce and skilled each of you are, and you know what I’ve done as your commander. Let’s burn them all.”

  The holographic avatars of my guildmates raise their weapons and cheer, their energy surging into me. My confidence soars higher. And although I had but the beginning of a plan before, the rest falls into place.

  I meet their eyes and revel in their sincere smiles. I wish that every moment of my life was like this as I absorb their warmth, attention, and respect. It’s something I’ve rarely experienced in real life.

  “Scorpion, Maverick, set up proximity mines at our flag,” I say, “then take up positions here and here with your sniper rifles.” I point to the locations on a holographic map. “Buy us as much time as you can.”

  “Consider it done, Commander,” says Scorpion.

  He and Maverick sprint away to the task.

  “Blaze, we’ll take care of the attack,” I say.

  She quirks a smile. “Thirty against two. I can’t wait to see what you have planned.”

  “I can’t wait to show you. Everyone else, meet here.” I indicate a building closer to the enemy camp, but far enough away to avoid engagement. “We’ll be there after we thrash the others, then we’ll attack together.”

  HellCat steps forward. “How do you know they’ll follow you instead of us?”

  “There are entire forum groups where people discuss how to best StarFeather,” says Blaze as she slaps my back.

  I grin at her. “They can afford to try since their defense is strong, but they’ll regret it. Now move out, everyone.”

  The men and women salute me, ready their weapons, and run to their
waypoint. I motion to Blaze, and we take off down the street.

  “You should be more patient with TigerShadow. Remember the opening game of the tournament?”

  “Always sticking up for the little guy, but yeah, that was a nice last-second save.”

  “Yite. He’s hardly little,” she says.

  I roll my eyes. “It seems like you stick up for him more than others, though.”

  “He’s more interesting than most.”

  “He flirts with half the guild, you know.”

  She shrugs. “I’m not looking for anything like that anyway.”

  I glance at my radar. About eighty percent of the red dots representing attackers veer toward us.

  Diablo. They really want to kill me.

  The other five head toward our base.

  I motion Blaze down another street and access the city map. “We’ll climb this building, then jump the rooftops to here.” I point to a large warehouse. “When we’re there, we attack.”

  Blaze nods. “Let’s get these scumbags.”

  After a short run, we reach the intended building and scale the fire escape. When we’re close to the top, I peek down.

  The enemy troops climb after us, not far behind, but out of direct line of fire. The sky darkens, and virtual rain patters down, feeling like little points of pressure in the real world.

  Blaze and I sprint across the concrete roof. In front of us, a ten-foot gap stretches between the rooftops. I leap no more than a foot in the air in the real world, but my avatar flies across the huge gap. I glance the fifty or so feet down and am glad I’m in-game. I land and continue my sprint.

  Blaze drops next to me with a thump, gripping her AK-710. She rattles off a few shots over her shoulder as she runs.

  It looks ridiculous, but it wouldn’t be the first time she shot someone that way.

  Bullets rip to the left and right of us as enemies return fire. Blaze gasps, then lowers her rifle to let her strap carry it and pumps her arms with renewed vigor. After leaping three more chasms, we reach our target warehouse.

  I motion to Blaze. “Over here.”

  She follows me across the building, and we crouch down, our guns ready. The twenty-five or so troops land on the other side of the roof and open fire.