The Astral Hacker (Cryptopunk Revolution Book 1)

by Brian Terenna

  What’s wrong with me? I swear I’m cursed. I’ll stay here as long as it takes to make it up to her now…if that’s even possible.

  I pull my head back to the present, where I stand at the end of the gun range. Sunny sits next to the wall behind me, playing with his seal hologram, Bean. Alexander lounges on the bench next to him.

  I fire off several rounds, then lower my still smoking Torg nine-millimeter. I rub the scar tissue on my shoulder where the bullet struck me, then roll in the paper target.

  Three bullet holes are clustered together in the target’s head. I nod to myself, satisfied.

  “Don’t get too puffed up,” says Alexander. “You’re shooting from seven yards. And you’re supposed to be shooting their chests, remember?”

  He’s right. I’m still nowhere near what I was in Silent City. I turn to see Alexander, polishing the gold medal that he has a million times.

  I can’t take it anymore. I need to know. “What’s that medal you keep polishing?”

  Alexander laughs.

  It’s what I expect from him now. Something natural.

  “You noticed that?” he asks with a smirk. “It’s the last thing I have of my dad,” he says, looking at it with reverence.

  That really changed the vibe. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Not at all,” He says with a flick of his hand. “I’ve come to terms, but this medal means a lot to me.”

  Phew. I have to be more careful. That’s why you don’t ask people things.

  “He was a course sharpshooter. Won the medal in the Olympics. I’ve always looked up to him for that.”

  “You want to follow in his footsteps.”

  He looks down sheepishly, a few strands of hair falling in front of his eye. “Yeah.”

  The motion is strange coming from him. “So that’s why you shoot all the time.”

  His sharp green eyes meet mine again. “I’m going to win gold like my father. He won it at twenty-one. I’ll be twenty,” he says with certainty.

  I wish I had even a fraction of his confidence.

  He pushes up from the bench in a fluid motion to stand in front of me. “Here, check out his medal.”

  It’s smooth and cool, and light glimmers off its golden surface as I rotate it. “It’s nice that you have this to remember him by.” It’s like my dad’s letter.

  “After my dad died, I vowed to win a gold medal in his name. I want to show my mom I can be as great as he was.”

  Admirable quality and similar to my goal of being a great programmer…or hacker now, I suppose.

  “But I’m such a boss. It will be easy for me.”

  And there’s the difference. “Where’s your mom?”

  “She lives outside of Stroudsburg in the house my dad built. I thought it was best if she stayed there when things went down. At least she has my dog, Leonidas, for company.”

  “Weird name.”

  “He’s named after a famous Greek military king.”

  Of course.

  “I miss him, but my mom needs company,” he says.

  “Do you miss your mom?”

  “Yeah, I lived with her before this, but I talk to her all the time. She loves to hear about all my heroic deeds. She’s a patriot at heart. Her new favorite is the story of how I saved you.”

  It’s my favorite too. So that’s who he keeps talking to on his q-link. “Let me guess. She’s a track star,” I say, feeling like I can be more myself with him.

  “She was a professional soccer player,” he says with a chuckle. “I considered doing that, but I want a gold like my father.”

  Impressive family.

  “Let’s go to the command center and see what’s going on,” he says, taking back the medal.

  “Command center?”

  He shrugs. “The main hall.”

  I shake my head, always amused by Alexander. I wave to Sunny. “Coming?”

  “I’ll stay,” he says and motions to his hologram. Bean swims in the air to Sunny’s side.

  “That’s some toy you have,” says Alexander.

  A butterfly hits the wall of my stomach. Does he suspect something? I had better tell Sunny to only play with Bean in the room. “I programmed him to do that. I thought it would be funny.”

  We walk out to the main hall.

  Gabriel stands in front of his followers. “And the smoke of their torment ascends up forever and ever: and they have no rest day nor night, who worship the beast and his image, and whoever receives the mark of his name.”

  Sounds rough, but not much worse than I’ve been through.

  Gabriel continues, “My fellow Knights of Christ, the end of the world is near. It’s clearer now than ever that Xyphotech’s Evo is the mark of the beast. Eventually, they will demand that we install the mark. They will cut us off from the economy if we don’t. What are we going to do when that happens?”

  His Knights say as one, “We will refuse in the name of our God.”

  I pull my attention away to see Yumi leaning against a wall, her one leg up, playing the harmonica. Her eyes linger on Astrid, who squats with a barbell across the room.

  Others lounge around, chatting or eating. Brandon stands close to a young female Loyalist that I don’t know. He pokes her, and she giggles. Weird Tom is springing a deck of cards between his hands, his long beard mostly hiding a slight smile.

  “I’ll talk to you later Sprite,” says Alexander.

  A pang of irritation hits me. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  His grin flashes. “You’re like a fairy, you know small, sweet, from the Fae.”

  Ohh. Fae means the fairy realm. It’s weird that my parents named me that. Too bad I can’t ask my mom about it. He thinks I’m sweet. Maybe the nickname is okay.

  He winks at me and walks off toward his usual bench. Nearby, Nav sits on a couch, meditating, her hair pulled back in a spiral-patterned headband. The image of the blimp crushing her husband appears in my mind, and a pang of guilt hits me.

  “Want some holy basil tea?” asks Americus to my left. “It’s relaxing. You look like you could use it.”

  I push the dark memories from my head and accept the warm mug.

  “If you want some, Brandon, I left an extra cup in the kitchen,” says Americus as Brandon walks over.

  Nav opens one eye and looks from me to Americus to Brandon. She smiles at Brandon and closes her eye again.

  “And thanks for growing this new batch of herbs,” Americus continues. “It certainly helps with stress.”

  “Of course, sir. Anything I can do to help out,” says Brandon. He points his arm toward the mug of tea. A device on his wrist hums. An instant later, a small quadcopter drone unfolds and zips into the kitchen. Small arms with grips extend to wrap around the mug. It flies back and hands the tea to Brandon.

  Oh, cool. I want one of those.

  Brandon sips his tea, then says, “I’ve been thinking about what you said, sir. Do you really think we could have another economic collapse?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. An attack of this magnitude on American soil will disrupt supply chains and massively affect GDP. While our government has low debt, consumer and business debt is at fifty-year highs.”

  Brandon runs a hand through his parted hair and lets out a long exhalation.

  I cross my arms. I’m reluctant to talk to Americus, but I’m too curious not to ask. “Why did the economy collapse before the revolution?”

  Americus grins at the question. He sits and motions to the seating across from him.

  I drop onto the soft couch, and my tea sloshes onto my lap. Brandon lowers himself next to me and smiles as he looks at Nav meditating.

  Americus clears his throat. “I’m sure you learned about the pandemic and the Final World War, but those were just the pins that popped America’s huge debt and asset bubbles. The collapse was already in the cards due to the lack of sound money and monetary policy.”

  “What do you mean by sound money?” I as
k. “Money is money, isn’t it?”

  Americus chuckles. “People got tricked into thinking that. Sound money is either backed by a commodity, like gold, so it can’t be printed endlessly or is a decentralized crypto with similar dynamics.”

  “So they created so much money it became worthless?” I ask.

  Americus nods. “You catch on quick.”

  I take a sip of the sweet tea to hide my smile.

  “When I taught English in Thailand, they went through hyperinflation since they were still using fiat currencies,” says Brandon. “It was wild to see prices rise so fast.”

  Diablo. What hasn’t this guy done?

  “Hyperinflation was brutal for our American ancestors too,” says Americus.

  “I don’t get it, though,” I say. “Why would they have a system like that?”

  “The Federal Reserve, which was owned by private banks that were owned by billionaires, was able to print unlimited money out of thin air. The more they printed, the more they profited. They made money when the other banks they owned sold bonds to the Fed. They also profited by forcing American citizens to pay them interest on the Fed’s reserves and a six percent dividend.”

  “They really had it rigged,” I say.

  He puts down his tea and faces me squarely. “It was the biggest scam in history. An unscrupulous way to funnel wealth from the general population to the billionaire shadow government bankers.” He pounds the table.

  I flinch and pull back. His raven leaps up and flies across the room to land next to Alexander on the bench. Alexander takes something from his pocket and feeds the bird.

  “Sorry. I get agitated when I talk about it.”

  “How did you get so involved?” I ask.

  “My grandfather fought in the revolution under Navin himself. My father followed in his footsteps, joining the military and was a true American patriot. That’s why he named me Americus. And that’s why I served in the Marines.”

  Oh. That makes sense.

  Americus stands. “I have to go review our inventory reports, but think about what I told you.”

  “I will.” I look around the warehouse, and my eyes land on Alexander. He leans back on a bench, cleaning the nine-millimeter that I just shot. His jaw muscle bunches up as he works.

  Brandon walks up to Alexander. “Want to clean my guns too? You sure do it enough.”

  “I don’t want to do anything for you, but you should clean them, or you’ll get a jam someday.”

  Brandon scoffs. “I’m not worried about it,” he says and walks away.

  Alexander’s green eyes meet mine. I jerk my gaze up to the right, pretending to look out the sunny window nearby.

  Heavy footsteps sound behind me. I spin around on the couch to look.

  Gabriel, powerful and imposing, strides over to Americus, holding two glasses of some golden-brown liquid. He hands one to Americus. “Everyone, gather around. I’ve got some news.”

  I move to sit by Nav, deciding it’s time to stop avoiding her. She slowly opens her eyes from her meditation and nods to me. Alexander holsters his gun, then joins us. The other Knights and Loyalists shuffle over, excited energy in the air.

  Gabriel takes a sip of his drink as all eyes focus on him. “The Republic of South America has surrendered after massive military losses. We’ve won!”

  Cheers and whistles rise around me. Loyalists high-five, bump fists, and hug, while the Knights give thanks to God. Americus and Gabriel clink their glasses and drink in celebration.

  Alexander pumps his fist. “U-S-A!”

  A chant breaks out. “U-S-A, U-S-A, U-S-A!”

  I smile, getting swept up in the enthusiasm.

  Gabriel motions his hands to quiet the crowd. “Wait, there’s more coming in,” he says, his elation dimming. His jaw drops as he reads. “The president and vice president were both killed during the attack before they could board Air Force One. The speaker of the house, Nathan Falk, has assumed the presidency.”

  The mood crashes. Several people’s eyes go wide, and others gasp at the news. A few Loyalists look like they might even cry.

  “Damn, she supported civil liberties more than any president in years,” says Americus. “We better have crushed the RSA for this.”

  “I can’t believe Toscano is dead,” says Alexander. “She was the first president I voted for.”

  Gabriel raises his hand to quiet everyone. “I’m getting a report about military losses. Fort Stroudsburg, which was the only base attacked in the first wave, is rubble. Several more bases were destroyed on the following attacks. Tens of thousands of troops are dead, and several generals have been assassinated.”

  “Their poor families,” says Nav.

  Americus makes a fist. “And the economic damage will make it even harder for them.”

  “There’s more,” says Gabriel. “President Falk has already passed several laws using emergency powers. They’ve increased the military and NIA budgets and reversed the ban on space weapons with a huge contract rewarded to Trexstar.”

  “Damn the NIA,” says Americus with a growl. “They’ll be an even larger threat to our liberties now.”

  Gabriel shakes his head, then takes a long swallow from his glass. “As a Christian, this next part bothers me the most. They reversed the ban on genetically engineered humans.”

  “This will create even more inequality,” says Nav.

  Several of Gabriel’s Knights make the sign of the cross.

  “The work of the Antichrist,” says Gabriel. “God made us in his image, and now we’re going to tamper with it?”

  “There goes my genetic edge,” says Alexander, shaking his head.

  Astrid scowls at him. “Alexander, be serious.”

  I think about the implications. Eventually, it will lead to two types of humans. Limited human norms and super-advanced evolved people. Once they learn how to increase intelligence and combine that with the Evo, norms will have no chance.

  “Wait. One more thing came in,” says Gabriel. “The official story is that the chaotic behavior you witnessed is due to a chemical attack by the RSA. They didn’t mention the mark of the beast at all.”

  ☼☼☼

  The room erupts in animated conversations and arguments about the various disturbing developments. I push on my stomach to dull the sick feeling that’s growing. Nav rubs my back as I sit, and gives me a we-got-this nod.

  After a few moments, Americus says, “Listen up.”

  The room falls silent, and everyone focuses on him.

  Americus sits up straighter, lifting his chin. “We’ve just heard a lot of distressing news. The loss of President Toscano and Vice President Garza is crushing, but we must stay strong. What confuses me is why they would say the chaos before the attack was a chemical strike rather than an Evo hack.”

  “It’s because you can’t trust the government,” says Nav, punctuating her speech with a quick motion of her cybernetic arm. “This is proof.”

  Several Loyalists grumble and eye Nav with sour expressions.

  Americus looks like his face is going to explode. “Enough! There’s got to be an explanation.”

  I inch down into the couch, trying to escape. Nav clenches her jaw but lowers her head. I squeeze Nav’s hand, to try to help. She glances at me with a fleeting smile, then back down.

  Americus sighs and his shoulders sag. “I don’t know what’s happening right now, but you’re right. Something strange is going on. Unless it’s some kind of new chemical attack, it wouldn’t happen like that. Fae, do you think it’s possible you made a mistake when scanning the people who were affected?”

  Everyone turns to look at me.

  I look down and shake my head. “I…I’m sure it’s the Evo. If it were chemicals, everyone would have been affected, including us. Plus, Barbra, Anna, and Sandra were all affected before everyone else.”

  Americus rubs his beard, looking annoyed. “Why would they lie?”

  “If they’re protecting the Ev
o, they’re in league with the Antichrist,” says Gabriel.

  His Knights agree in murmuring assent.

  “This fits with my theory, Americus,” says Weird Tom. “Secret societies have been controlling the world for thousands of years. The Evo is just their latest innovation in controlling the populace. I wouldn’t be surprised if aliens were involved.”

  “We don’t have time for wild theories,” says Americus. “Let’s stick to reality.”

  “It’s not wild. I have evidence that secret societies started Christianity and its takeover of Rome, murdered Archduke Ferdinand starting WWI, and were behind Hitler’s rise for WWII. And they were even behind the creation of the Federal Reserve.”

  “Enough, Thomas! Not now,” says Americus. “We’re going to stick to the facts and figure this out.”

  Weird Tom bristles but says nothing.

  Diablo. Tom is out there.

  “If they’re lying about the chemical attack, could they be lying about the RSA?” asks Astrid.

  For a second, it looks like Americus will yell at her, instead, he says, “I did think it was strange that RSA jets snuck through our defenses. While they’ve made technological improvements, their stealth shouldn’t be a match for our detection perimeter. And why strike only Fort Stroudsburg on the first attack? They should have sent waves of missiles and struck as many bases as they could right away or not attack at all.”

  Alexander pushes his long hair from his face and says, “I agree. It’s a death sentence. Had they planned it right, they could have won. I have a hard time believing anyone would have approved this attack plan.”

  “Apparently someone did, though,” says Americus. “Many people saw RSA jets attacking Fort Stroudsburg.”

  Hmm. This doesn’t make sense. There’s something going on. If you control the Evo, why would you only use it in Stroudsburg? They could have executed a third of the population and many people in power. Then if they all-out attacked, they would have obliterated us.

  An idea hits me. It was something that Alexander said. I fidget with my q-link, and say, “What if the first attack wasn’t them? What if it was a—”

  “False flag,” says Alexander, punching his open palm. “Some unknown adversary uses holograms to mimic RSA jets to start a war between the two countries.”