“I’m sure the official broadcasts are disturbing. That’s what they want. If they scare the hell out of you, you’ll remove your chip. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.”
“Mom.” I stood.
“I’m not telling you to. I know it’s a waste of what breath I have left.” The effort exerted by our talk had her coughing once more.
“Don’t say that. Just rest. I’m sorry I brought it up.” I nudged the cup of ice chips toward her, but the coughing didn’t subside. A wet gulp of air struggled to fill her lungs.
Tears rose to my eyes, but didn’t fall. As much as it pained me to watch Mom go through this, I’d grown accustomed to it. The coughing, the blood-caked sheets, even the sweet smell of decay. They were my mom.
When the Glitch first happened, claiming Dad and three million other people, I’d devoured all the reports and rumors. It quickly overwhelmed me, graphic scenes of destruction flooding my chip. Everyone on the news was all too happy to flash pictures of contorted bodies, oozing chip implants, and trains full of ragged orphans. The worst part, aside from not being able to stop the onslaught, was the artists’ renderings of liquefying organs.
I ordered myself to focus on anything other than the simulations of melting innards, fusing into a toxic sludge inside an abdomen. Mom’s abdomen.
Refusing the ice chips, Mom sat up straighter to catch her breath. “The truth is the truth, baby. Either I’m going to die soon or I’m not. I think we both know which way that will go.” She reached for my hand. “And either the sterilization reports are true or they’re not. I’m sure we know which way that will turn out too.” Mom added with a shrug.
“They can’t get away with it!” I balled up my fist.
“They already have. All we can do now is make the best life we can for you and your brother. We have to make sure you’re ready to take care of him after.” Another coughing fit forced her to slide back down. “Besides, I like Howie. He’s great with Marcus and Evelyn. He’d make a great father someday... in the very distant future.” Mom gave me her best smile.
“Gross mom. I’m only fifteen.”
“And he’s seventeen. And a boy. I’m just saying that maybe infertility is your friend right now.” The smile grew.
“For Stone’s sake, Mom.” I bolted toward the door. “I’ll tell Bit to come home before curfew!” I yelled, slamming it.
“TONIGHT WE HAVE A SPECIAL guest with us,” Fox’s voice bounced around my room. “Please welcome, via holo, President Sturn himself.”
//Howie!// President Sturn’s on the radio!//
//So what? He’s everywhere.//
//Yeah but Fox is gonna interview him. Live.//
//My radio broke so it doesn’t matter.//
//I’ll chip it to you.//
//Ugh, if I have to. You like the weirdest stuff Syn.//
//Hush and listen. It’s the President!//
“Mr. President, thank you so much for joining our little show.”
Sturn’s voice broke through the static. “Thank you for having me Mr. Fox. It’s amazing that you’ve been able to keep your signal strong for your listeners. You’re doing a great service to your fellow Citizens.”
“Well thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from you. You’re no stranger to having to do a difficult service for your people.”
//Are you getting this, Howie?//
//Yeah.// The unimpressedness dripped from his transmission.
Sturn continued, “That’s why I felt I had to come on the show today. It’s my duty as your leader to reach as many Citizens as possible. To reassure everyone that we’re doing our best to get things back to normal. Or at least a new normal.”
Fox cleared his throat. “About that, sir... I hate to even bring it up, but there are a lot of rumors swirling around your presidency. About what the new normal might look like.”
A brief silence followed before President Sturn responded. “In every tragedy there are those who wish to profit from the horrors of our great people. Muckrakers will latch onto any bit of conjecture and try to use it for nefarious purposes. It’s despicable how, in a time like this, people can’t band together as one to help their fellow man. I had truly hoped we could learn from past mistakes but —”
“Are you referring to The Uprising, sir?”
“Well,” President Sturn paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking more slowly, “I hate even talking about it, but yes. That unfortunate time in our history. It’s so sad that there are still those among us who want to tarnish this great nation, and destroy everything we’ve worked for. They’ll stop at nothing.”
“Sir, you can’t be saying what I think you’re saying.”
//I told you!// I transmitted to Howie, half off my bed in anticipation.
//Sshh!//
President Sturn stalled. “I’ve said too much already. I’m sorry. But I want everyone in your audience to know that we will hunt down those responsible for this tragedy and prosecute them to the fullest extent of the law. Of my power as President!” He spoke with such conviction I could picture him slamming a justified fist on a table.
After another brief silence Fox came back on the air. “Well guys, we lost connection. But... wow. Just wow. I’m speechless. Why don’t I turn things over to you guys. Comments? Questions?”
I hit the power button and fell back on the pillow. //Do you think it’s true?// I asked Howie.
//I have no idea but if it is, we’re in for it. Another Uprising? I can’t imagine.//
Chapter Twenty-One
January 20, 5AG
Guard Two paced the room, not really participating in the interrogation. His eyes focused on something far beyond those cracked and peeling walls. Synta figured his chip was pinging away with her rap sheet. When he made his fifth or sixth lap behind her chair she scooched ever so slightly backward.
He didn’t trip. Without missing a beat, he sidestepped around the leg of her chair and continued on his merry way.
Guard One made a low manly sound in his throat. “Upgrades,” was all he said.
Synta shrugged. “Yeah, so I was wrong.”
“We all were.” Guard One sounded almost human.
Part VII: 2 Years AG
Chapter Twenty-Two
“We are interrupting your regular chip feed to bring you the latest in our round the clock coverage of the two-year anniversary of The Great Glitch. In what may be a fitting tribute to those who lost their lives just two years ago, there will be a live press conference in a few moments at the White House. Attendance is mandatory for all citizens and foreign nationals. Everyone is urged to stop what they’re doing and tune into the conference. President Sturn is expected to give what could be his very last speech in office.
“We are interrupting your regular chip feed to bring you the latest in our round the clock coverage of the two-year anniversary of The Great Glitch. In what may be a fitting tribute to those who lost their lives just two years ago, there will be a live press conference in just a few moments at the White House. Attendance is mandatory —”
I tried to block the feed by slapping the side of my head, but the droll male voice continued.
“...very last speech...”
I dropped the garden rake and leaned against the fence. A whole year of planting and tilling and watering had yielded one measly row of potatoes. Brown twisted leaves littered the rest of our half acre yard, a testament to my failure as a farmer.
“...who lost their lives two years ago...”
Brooks ran across the yard toward me, shaking his head violently. “Synta get it out!”
“I can’t, Bit. Sorry. It’s mandatory.” I patted his head, fingers scraping across dry brittle clumps where his lush bouncing curls had once been. I looked him over, wondering if he’d even grown at all in the past year. “How’s Mommy doing?”
Brooks huffed. “The same as always. Laying on the couch. I think she looks greener than —”
I covered his mouth, not wanting
the update after all.
“I shouldn’t hafta listen to the President. I’m a kid. Don’t they know who they’re sending updates to?”
“...the latest in our round the clock...” the droid voice droned on.
“You know they don’t even know you exist. So how can they know you’re a kid?” I reminded him. Nevermind, I told myself, that the back-alley hack who chipped you swore that you had a clean chip. ‘A baby whose parents opted out of chipping at the last minute’ my ass, I caught myself.
Brooks kicked at the dead leaves around what should have been corn stalks, stomping some further into the ground. “Can I go play with Marc?”
“I don’t know. Let me check.” I tried to block the transmission from HNN so I could reach Howie. But it was no use. Squeezing my eyes shut, I transmitted a mental yell, //Howie can you hear me?//
A faint deep voice broke through the monotonous news alert. //Stone, this guy’s gonna drive me nuts.//
//Tell me about it.// I still couldn’t get over how much his voice had changed lately. Every time he chipped to me his new baritone tickled my brain. //Bit wants to play with Marcus. How’s he doing?//
//Not so good today. I don’t think it’s a good idea. They’re both pretty bad right now. It was a tough night.//
//I understand. Hope they feel better.// Even as I said it, turning back to shake my head to Brooks, I knew in my heart they wouldn’t get better. They’d been steadily getting worse. Just like Mom.
“My fellow Continentals,” President Sturn’s tired voice interrupted the news alert. I instinctively snapped to attention, dropping the rake. “It is with a heavy heart that I come to you today. Through the course of our investigation into the Glitch of ‘41, we have uncovered some disturbing information.”
I reached for Brooks who had also been standing completely still at the sound of President Sturn’s voice.
“We have received compelling intel that leads us to believe the individuals responsible for the Glitch are our very own Citizens. This was not a foreign attack. This criminal act was perpetrated by those who call themselves The Resistance, the same group responsible for The Uprising of 2199.
“Our sources have uncovered irrefutable evidence that these same individuals are behind the recent attacks to older model chips... the very chips that would have been most susceptible to a patch glitch.”
An eerie nausea swept over me. An inside job? It can’t be. I knew Resistors. They had chipped Brooks. Oh Stone! I squeezed his hand tighter, making him yelp.
President Sturn continued, “I’ve authorized an increased military presence in the light of these revelations. Security and safety of our Citizens is of the utmost importance. Military personnel are authorized to use deadly force if deemed necessary. Let this serve as a warning to those Resistors out there who think they’re above the law. We’ve come this far to track you down and ferret you out, hiding underground like the vermin you are.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Such language from our leader.
“Sir. Sir.” A female voice broke through the transmission. “Are you using this ‘intel’ as a cover for your impeachment? It seems rather convenient —”
“No questions!” A different, louder male voice interrupted.
All of a sudden, the transmission filled with a multitude of voices, pushing each other to get their questions in.
“How’s the First Lady, Mr. President?”
“Will you fight the impeachment?”
“Is it true that she’s sick, sir?”
A metallic shriek drowned out all the voices, silencing them. Then nothing. The transmission stopped.
“What’s impeachment?” Brooks looked up at me, big brown eyes with even bigger bags under them.
“Nothing good, Bit. Nothing good.”
“I’M GONNA FIND SOME solar panels today. You think it will take more than two?” I looked up at Howie, walking beside me with his hands in his pockets. He seemed miles away. “Where are you?” I asked, stopping.
“Huh?” Howie wiped both hands down his face. “Sorry, Evelyn was up all night.”
Poor thing. She hadn’t been doing well. I didn’t push. Howie had a way of saying everything in nothing. I knew Evelyn being up all night meant he was too. It also meant that Marcus and Mrs. Anderson would have a hard time with her until we got back. I patted Howie on the back and started walking again. “We should find some new tubes. Maybe—”
“Her tubes are fine. The food isn’t the problem. She’s just in so much pain. Nights are the worst.” He didn’t look at me. We just let the words hang there in the space between us as we walked.
Since the city dump was only a mile and a half away it didn’t make the list of drivable destinations. As time grew, that list shrank. We walked most of the time those days.
Letting him have peace and quiet, I watched the buildings around us decay with too much interest. The farther we got from home, the more destruction invaded my senses. Acrid tinges of fire that always blew into my yard, catching a ride on a hot breeze, now burned so much I had to pull my shirt up over my nose. At least the sirens didn’t bother to follow us out that far. If you got yourself in trouble at the dump, you were screwed.
“Do you think she’s...” Howie didn’t finish. Didn’t have to.
“Naw. She’s strong. She made it this far.” I made my voice bright and assuring. “I think she just needs different exercises. We can check with the merchants in B. Maybe find a patch. Learn some PT.”
“PT?” Howie covered his own mouth and nose, muffling the witty retort that followed. Smoke never bothered him, but the growing stench turned his stomach every time.
We had arrived.
“Don’t sound so shocked. I’ve been reading up.” I climbed the fence surrounding the landfill’s outer grid and landed hard on my knee. “You forget who was in line to inherit the biggest data company this side of the Misssissip.” I pulled on imaginary lapels to play off the pain.
“Now who’s the wonk?” Howie scaled the fence and landed beside me like a cat. His broad chest wasn’t heaving from the effort or anything.
“Still you.” I took off toward a massive pile of discarded electronics in slim hopes of finding a solar panel still intact.
“Don’t go climbing again! Remember what happened last time!” Howie called after me as he turned toward medical waste; no doubt looking for supplies for his mom’s new bed.
I didn’t justify that remark with one of my own. But as I neared a stack of 5D projectors taller than myself, Howie pushed a replay into my chip.
There I stood, well... hung from a protruding curtain rod, fifty feet above the air. In the playback, which was from Howie’s point of view, I could see how precarious my situation had truly been. More disturbing was that I could feel the shock and fear that coursed through Howie as he ran to me.
My heart ached with guilt. //Please.// I pleaded. The scene blacked out and I exhaled. //I’m sorry.//
//Meh,// Howie chipped. //I got to be your hero.// The last words danced through my head as Howie did his best damsel in distress impression.
//Ugh. The day’s gonna come when I return the favor.//
//You wish. Now hurry up. I need to get home.//
Snapped back to reality, I dug through pile after pile of garbage. Before the Glitch, I’d skip the Environmental Conservation ads that played before Dayne’s videos. Dad wouldn’t spring for the MeVid upgrade, so I only got two skips per hour. I used them on the EC commercials and that super annoying lady who just repeated “#NoHeadache! #NoHeadache!” Ugh, I’m gonna hear that on my death bed.
But after... standing on that literal mountain of waste every week, looking for scraps to take home; it was easy to see why the planted wanted us gone.
Solar panels, as I learned the hard way, didn’t end up in the electronics grid after all. An hour into my excavation project, Howie flicked another feed into my chip. All the way across the field of stench, in Building Supplies, leaned a hill of solar
panels. //Not in very good shape.// Howie chipped over the image.
//They’ll have to do.//
Later, as we headed home—Howie with more tubes and medical machines strapped to his back and me with four kind of decent solar panels—I took his hand.
“You are my hero, you know,” I said, squeezing his hand gently before dropping it.
We continued in silence for a long time. Away from the toxic stench of the landfill. Past the burned-out shells of houses. I watched them grow, fresher and untouched by the apocalypse, the closer we got to home.
Finally, we made it all the way to Franklin Street where I would turn left and he would continue straight. The quiet wasn’t a burden. It was a gift. Our gift to each other.
Then, when I made my turn and we no longer had to look into each other’s faces, he replied, //I know.//
Two words. Unaccompanied by his usual pomp or arrogance. They were sure, full of duty and honor.
An oath.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Two years and five months. That’s how long my mental breakdown took to boil over. I don’t even know what started it. It was a normal day. But maybe that was it.
Normal.
Easy.
The perfect storm.
Mom and I finished repairing the last solar panel that morning.
The first two died when a large tree branch crashed through the side of the house a few weeks back. It took out both panels, and Dad’s office. We never went in there anyway, so we just sealed that part of the house off and went about our business, and salvaged as much of the panels’ frames as possible. We had learned back in June, the hard way, that trying to repair broken cells was a futile and infuriating endeavor. So we had dismantled them and stacked them in the shed, along with all the other things my mom hoarded.
Epoch Earth; the Great Glitch Page 10
