Freelancer

by Jake Lingwall

  What about me? I’ve done a lot of work for clients from the Middle States . . . but the government doesn’t know about that. But what if it did? She hadn’t taken any questionable client projects recently, nothing that could be used against the coastal states. But they might come calling anyway . . .

  Kari didn’t like this. Too many things could go wrong, and too many moving parts could crush her if they moved off path. This is between the states. I’m not big enough to even be on their radar. I need to stop thinking I’m more important than I am. Mom wouldn’t like that. There’s potential for a war, and I’m thinking about myself. How narcissistic of me. This war would have a heavier impact on others.

  Like David.

  Oh, now I’m worried about David? Once I apologize, he’ll be nothing but a pretty pair of eyes with a bad personality and disappointing political views. That’s it; I can’t waste any more time thinking about him.

  But it’s been a week, and I still haven’t found the guts to apologize to him. Kari tried to tell herself she had been too busy working on her project. So busy that I didn’t even pay close-enough attention to the news to know Congress wanted to start a war.

  It was time to take care of real-life business after spending an entire week in her mind chip. The first thing on her to-do list was to apologize. She put a jacket on and almost ordered an auto-auto to the house before looking in the mirror. She then decided to take a shower and get presentable before leaving. It would also give her a chance to check the news first and catch up on what was happening. The world changed this morning, and I’m going to need to figure out how I fit in it.

  Chapter Eight

  Kari pulled on her freshly printed clothes. They were nearly identical to the clothes she had recycled a few minutes ago in order to print these. She had changed some of the quotes on the clothes as well as the colors, but they mostly remained the same.

  For one who prides herself in her innovation, I sure don’t do much with my clothes.

  By the time Kari had finished getting ready and had eaten some food, she’d managed to read most of the news sources she cared about. The Middle States had officially closed the borders between the coasts and their own territory with military roadblocks on all major roads and highways. Flights were cancelled, and the high-speed trains were closed. The news was ablaze with stories of protests and stranded citizens on both sides of the new borders. Thankfully, no bombings or official fighting had started—yet.

  The networks gave nonofficial reports of small riots erupting in newly designated border towns. Kari was concerned because a new border with Tennessee, a freshly minted Middle State, was only about fifty miles from her home. For the first time, she realized that she essentially lived in a border town now. The expected protests and demonstrations had been popping up locally, but nothing had gotten out of hand.

  Nothing’s happening too close to home.

  Kari had also checked her client messages, which turned out to be a mistake. Her clients were really concerned about future projects, which she hadn’t agreed to build for them because of the current political situation. There were also a large number of new requests looking for advanced solutions to common war problems. She’d spent several minutes letting all her clients know she wouldn’t be starting any new projects until she had a better understanding of how the secession of the Middle States would affect her. She had spent most of the week working on adjustments to her swarm of drones and had fallen behind her projected schedule for client work again, something she had promised herself she wouldn’t let happen. But she didn’t regret it; one of the perks of being a freelancer was that she could work at her own pace, and she had needed a break after having to deal with her last client.

  Kari packed a few of the drones she had printed last week in her bag to take with her, despite the fact that they were now grossly outdated after a week of work on their design. Just in case. She had made a large number of enhancements to the drones since last week, but she hadn’t had the opportunity to go to her factory to print any new ones since then. She felt silly putting the drones in her bag, but she felt a little anxious about being so close to the border. I guess I’ve always been a little paranoid.

  Today, that paranoia was slightly more justified. Kari ordered an auto-auto and was pleasantly surprised when she was notified that one was only a minute away. She breathed in deeply and recommitted herself to taking care of this apology despite an urge to forget about it. She could be doing a thousand other things that would be a better investment of her time, but she was tired of feeling guilty.

  It’s time to get this over with.

  David’s house was farther from the center of town than was Kari’s factory. Kari had discovered this only after she’d hacked the school’s website to access the student directory to find David’s address. It doesn’t help the conspiracies that he lives so far away from anyone or anything. Who has their address unlisted these days? The long drive gave her plenty of time to order a new round of updated drone prototypes to be printed at her factory and to review some code from last night.

  When the auto-auto finally came to a stop, Kari had to force herself to leave the self-driving car behind. At least it’s not raining. The weather was so nice that she took off her jacket—the opposite of how it had been a week ago. Plenty of trees were around, and the long path leading up to David’s home wasn’t paved. The whole scene felt a bit rustic, almost as if it were a setting for an old painting. A wood fence that was desperate for a fresh layer of paint lined the edge of the yard.

  The gravel crunched under her shoes as she slowly made her way up the path toward David’s door. His house was surprisingly large but the architecture was much older than was popular in the city. Solar panels had been installed on the roof, which was a sign that the house was old. All the houses these days had roofs composed entirely of solar panels. Not only was it more practical, it was the law that new homes be built that way. Kari wondered why that hadn’t always been the case, but she didn’t understand a lot of things about the past.

  As she got closer to the door, she realized all the windows were closed and covered. No lights were on, and the house had all the signs of being vacant. If he’s not here, then that’s his fault. I’m counting this as an apology either way. Kari stepped up the wooden steps onto the deck in front of the house and paused for a moment, wondering if she should knock. She concluded it would be silly not to.

  Her first knock on the door echoed throughout the surrounding yard. Her second knock a few moments later was much softer. She let the noise settle and listened closely for any sound that would give her hope that someone was home to answer the door. When no one came, she knocked loud enough so that she was certain anyone inside would hear her. I didn’t drive all this way for him not to hear me knocking. A bird darted from the bushes off to the right of the house. Kari jumped at the noise and almost dropped her bag to the wooden floor.

  Just as she was about to give up, she heard a rustling from inside the house. OK, that’s creepy. The door slowly opened halfway, and a middle-aged woman poked her head through the small opening. Her hair was short and dark brown, not quite ready to surrender to the coming grayness, and her tan skin was the color of a white person who spent significant time outdoors. She looked like David in an odd way, but the resemblance wasn’t obvious enough that Kari would have made the connection if she hadn’t been at David’s house.

  “Can I help you?” the woman asked. She seemed confused, but the stress hidden beneath the confusion shined through. She’s more stressed than Mom . . .

  “I was looking for David,” Kari said.

  The woman scowled for a second, as if searching for Kari’s hidden meaning. Her face lightened as Kari made eye contact with her. Dad taught me never to break eye contact if you want people to trust you.

  “Oh, sure thing. I’ll send him out.” The woman forced a small-but-sincere smile. She closed the door behind her and headed back into the house.

  She�
��s not very hospitable. And to think I drove all the way out here for this. I guess that’s not really surprising, though, given David’s temperament.

  David stepped out from behind the door, closing it softly behind him. He was wearing blue jeans and a nice shirt—the same style of traditional clothes that he typically wore to school, although these clothes were considerably more worn. For a brief moment, while he processed who had come to the door for him, he looked as confused as the woman had looked. Then his confusion was replaced with a coldness that made the woman seem like a bubbly cheerleader talking to anyone male.

  “What are you doing here, Kari?”

  “I . . .” I’ve been thinking about this for a week, and I don’t even know what to say. “I . . . I came to say I’m sorry for the way I treated you after class last week.” Well, that’s about as direct as it gets.

  “You couldn’t wait until tomorrow to say that?” David’s face grew darker, as if he were waiting for her to attack him once again. “Or you didn’t want to be seen talking to me at school because only people in the Middle States can stand me, if I’m lucky.”

  Kari winced. I guess he hasn’t forgotten about that part of our conversation . . .

  “Look, David, I didn’t mean what I said.”

  “What part didn’t you mean?” David’s eyes were narrow and his voice was pointed, but it was quiet, as if he didn’t want people inside to hear what he was saying.

  “All of it,” Kari said, trying hard to sound sincere, but she could feel frustration growing in her. This isn’t how apologies are supposed to work.

  “I believe you are sorry you said it, but we both know you meant what you said.” David’s eyes eased a bit.

  It’s true; some of the things I said were too personal not to have some true sentiment behind them. I know it, and he knows it. Kari felt her stomach tighten. What else am I supposed to say? Nothing came to mind, so they both stood there in silence for what seemed like an eternity. At least I’m not crying.

  “Look,” David said finally, “you didn’t have to come over here. It’s fine. I know I’m different. Sometimes that gets to me. I shouldn’t have started anything with you.”

  We can both agree about that.

  “No, it was me. It was my fault, and I’m sorry. I should pay better attention in class so I don’t get caught in one of Thomas’s traps. And I went after you in class because I knew that’s what Thomas wanted and would leave me alone if I did it.” Kari’s apology was pouring out of her. “And it’s not even that. I was a coward and let the other students pick on you without saying anything. And it wasn’t just last week but for a long time, and that’s not the person I want to be, especially not to you.”

  David raised his eyebrows at the last part.

  “Oh! No, not because of that or anything,” Kari said. David laughed at her panicked clarification. “It’s just that . . . you’ve always been nice to me when other people haven’t, and even if I don’t agree with you on a lot of things, that doesn’t mean I should just sit around and let other people be jerks.”

  Kari sighed when she was finished.

  David smiled as if she had told him a joke. “Apology accepted.”

  That’s it? I just poured out my soul to you . . . Kari nodded, not sure of what to make of the conversation or what else to say.

  “And thank you,” David said.

  “No worries. I’ve been meaning to apologize all week.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t thanking you for the apology, although that was nice,” David said with a glimmer in his eyes. “I thought you drove all the way out here to challenge me to a rematch with the drones. I don’t think I could beat you a second time, so thanks for letting me keep my pride intact.”

  “After the trouncing you gave me, I might never go back to school.”

  “If you figure out a way to never go back, please, please let me know,” David said as they both shared a laugh. He stopped laughing first as he seemed to remember something. “So why did you come out here today rather than wait for tomorrow?”

  “I’ve been meaning to apologize all week, but I’ve just been distracted. With the news this morning, I remembered there was a real world, and the first thing I needed to do in the real world was to apologize to you.”

  “So the news made you think of me?” David’s voice suddenly sounded troubled.

  “Not like that,” Kari said, but David’s face was asking for the truth. “Well . . . yeah, in a way, I guess it did.”

  David looked back at his house anxiously and talked over his shoulder distractedly. “Thanks for stopping by, Kari. It means a lot to me.”

  He was suddenly so distant that Kari was unsure what else to do, so she nodded and mumbled, “See you tomorrow, David.” She slowly turned and stepped down off the porch. The auto-auto was gone, off to drive someone else around. That was unfortunate; she would have to wait for another to arrive.

  As she heard the door open behind her, she remembered something she had wanted to say.

  “Wait, David,” she said and turned around in time to see him freeze in the process of going inside. His expression was still distant, but he looked at her curiously.

  “I’m not like everyone else,” Kari said. “That’s what set me off. You said I was the same as everyone else, and I’m not.”

  “I know you aren’t,” David said. “But sometimes I’m not sure you really know that yourself.” He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

  Chapter Nine

  Kari hated David.

  What is that even supposed to mean? Why does he think he knows me so well?

  She wanted to scream; instead, she kicked a rock down the road. She had decided to walk rather than wait on the curb for an auto-auto to show up. She didn’t want to stay by that house any longer than she had to. David would probably be looking out the windows, thinking about how well he knows me, laughing to himself about how insightful he is into my soul.

  The auto-autos were surprisingly busy; the initial estimate had said the next available car would be ten minutes, and that hadn’t changed after ten minutes of walking. Kari had assumed something was going on, but the local social networks showed no signs of anything that would keep auto-autos from missing their estimates. Whatever was causing the delay, it hadn’t made its way onto the Internet yet. Kari wasn’t sure if that should worry her.

  The shadows stretched as the sun approached the horizon. Days were short when you didn’t wake up until they were halfway over. Down the road, Kari saw headlights of an auto-auto. She checked her mind chip to see if the vehicle was for her, but it wasn’t available. Why would an auto-auto be coming out this way and not be available? She moved off the road toward the bushes near the side of the street to get out of its way. The auto-autos never crashed or veered off the road, but she still liked to keep her distance. A person had to truly want to get hit by an auto-auto for it to happen, and even then the cars were good at avoiding pedestrians.

  As her angle changed when she moved to the side of the road, Kari saw several other pairs of headlights approaching. She checked their statuses; none of them were listed as available. When a fourth set of headlights appeared after the others, she instinctively walked into the bushes for cover. They pricked her and tore at her clothes, but something about the situation made Kari feel like she didn’t want to be seen.

  This isn’t right.

  The auto-autos passed her, speeding down the road toward David’s house. Why would auto-autos be headed to David’s house?

  Kari felt her feet start to move before she had finished putting the pieces together in her mind. The secession. Everyone knows David’s family supports the Middle States. With the news of the riots and borders closing, some people are probably looking to get even. That’s why they had acted like no one was home earlier. That’s why they were scared to come to the door. They were worried about the protestors or violence spilling out to their home.

  Kari sprinted down the street toward David’s ho
use. How could I have been so stupid? Why didn’t I put this together?

  Kari’s side started to cramp after a few seconds, and she was already having difficulty breathing. I’ve got to get in better shape! She walked as quickly as she could, but she knew it would take her at least another five minutes to make it back to David’s house. She could see the taillights of the auto-autos farther down the road; they were parked directly in front of David’s house. Kari wasn’t sure what was going on, but she knew it wasn’t good.

  Why am I waiting to get there? Kari cursed herself again as she shook the contents of her bag onto the ground and immediately reached out to the five drones she had been carrying and activated them. Thank goodness for my paranoia.

  The drones buzzed to life, hovering at eye level, waiting for orders. Kari found an open spot among the bushes and sat down, knowing she would need to focus in order to control the drones remotely. She had done this a dozen times in simulation, but she’d never used the drones for any practical purpose in real life.

  Kari maximized the camera feed from her drones, overriding her entire vision. She selected one drone to use as her primary command drone and filled the majority of her vision with the camera feed from it. She grouped together the other four camera feeds and pushed their displays to the corners of her periphery.

  With a quick thought, Kari sent the drones flying toward David’s house. They shot high into air, quickly out of view if Kari had been watching them with her eyes. She felt dizzy as she acclimatized to her new perspective via the camera on her command drone. I hope five drones is enough for whatever I’m going to need them for. She considered ordering more drones to print at her factory, but they’d have to blow a hole in the roof to make it here. She couldn’t risk the attention that such action could bring to her factory—not yet.