The ones who’ve made it big in the world, the ones we call the Elite, live in a gated community to the south called the First Circle. I’ve been to the edge of it a couple of times with Cindy. There’s actually this massive wall around it to keep the riff-raff (like me) out.
Living in a sort of giant ring around the First Circle are the workers and managers of the Corps, the corporations that produce all the goods and services the world needs. Most of the factories and offices are there too. There’s no wall around the Corp Ring, and nothing to stop us going there, but if we hang around too long they find a way to get rid of us.
According to Travis (though I’m never sure whether he’s joking, psycho, or serious sometimes), there used to be thousands of businesses, pumping out a huge variety of stuff, and almost everybody could afford at least some of it.
Now, there’s only six, so besides SecureCorp there’s five others.
FoodCorp, as I mentioned, produces the food packets we eat. BuildCorp designs and builds all large building projects. InfoCorp is responsible for all the stuff broadcast over our HUDs and on HoloTVs, and for training and education. TechCorp designs, builds, and maintains all the high technology stuff.
And last, but definitely not least, MediCorp is responsible for everything to do with medicine and health. Cindy says they’re really good. Here in the Quarters our medical plan is we hope we don’t get sick.
TechCorp and MediCorp are responsible for installing the HUDs. Everybody in the city, and the world, for all I know, has one. They' attached to your optic nerve and powered by your body heat. The HUD allows you to access the network from anywhere, automatically. My HUD is as much a part of me as my ears and eyes.
Scattered around the Corp Ring like flies on a dead dog, there’s the rest of us. We live where we can. Here in the Quarters, there’s no services to look after us (who would pay for them?), so if we don’t do something ourselves, it doesn’t get done. A few lucky people have landed jobs in the Corp Ring, doing stuff the Corp workers don’t want to do, and that can’t be done by robots — things like sweeping floors, cleaning toilets, and working in the sewers. If it wasn’t for the money those guys bring in, we’d probably all starve to death.
We can handle the crime, power outages, and garbage. What everybody lives in fear of is getting sick. If you get sick in the Quarters, you better hope your immune system will save you, ‘cause nobody else will. And when you die, your body might lie around in the gutter for weeks until somebody gets tired of looking at it and dumps it somewhere.
Travis says there’s a cure for what my mom had, if we’d had the money. It’s horrible to think that she didn’t have to die, but I guess, like they’re always saying on the newscasts, that’s the way it should be — survival of the fittest. It was our fault. Me and my dad. We should’ve made more money. We should’ve done whatever was necessary. If we had, she’d still be alive.
A lot of the old city’s empty. That’s why we managed to snag our own little apartment. It’s tiny, and it’s kind of a dump, but it’s got electricity (when it’s working) and running water.
In the Lost Souls, we pretty much stick to The Quarters in general, and Tintown in particular. The other Quarters don’t like strangers hanging around (neither do we). Once in a while we venture into the Corp Ring, but that’s always dangerous. If SecureCorp grab you, you never know what they’ll do.
But there’s an even larger ring outside all the others. Everybody calls it ‘The Dregs’. It’s almost completely abandoned; the only people that hang out there are the homeless and criminal gangs. It’s a dangerous place. When we were kids our parents used to tell us scary stories about it to keep us out. The stories worked, and still do. In all our dodgy adventures, we’ve never dared to go there.
☼
I always found it depressing at home, so I usually got whatever I needed and got out of there as fast as possible. Tonight, I had an hour or so to kill so I hung around in my room. I tried to relax, preparing for the run later, even though there really wasn’t any way to prepare. You just did it and hoped you didn’t get caught.
Always in the back of my mind was my own Appraisal, which was coming up fast. After what happened to both my parents it was tempting to refuse it, but I knew that wouldn’t happen. I shoved all thoughts of it out of my mind, and finally fell asleep.
When I woke up it was almost time to leave. I got my stuff together and headed out. My dad was still sitting watching HoloTV. This time it was a newsreel. Hap Happerston, the announcer that usually handles ‘feel-good’ stories, was gushing about some guy from the Quarters, Burt Harper, who’d made it big.
“Burt’s Appraisal was nothing special,” Hap beamed. “It was what he did with his life that counted.”
Hap went on to explain how Burt, once an enforcer with the Death’s Heads gang, had graduated to the bottom ranks at BuildCorp, risen quickly by systematically eliminating his rivals, and was now living the good life. A 3D image of a huge yacht appeared on the pedestal, with this bozo standing on the deck, smiling ear-to-ear, a bikini-clad babe under each arm.
Burt’s rivals had never been heard from again. “We have no idea what happened to the poor guys,” Hap said, laughing. “But wherever they are, nobody can pin it on Burt.” Hap winked at the camera. “Hey, it’s just business — nothing personal.”
“I’m going out,” I said to my dad.
He didn’t acknowledge me, just stared at the TV. I headed off on my board to the Center to meet Richie and the others. On the way, I got a call on my HUD. It was Cindy.
See you later tonight? she texted.
You sure you want to come? I answered her. It’ll be boring for you.
I didn’t really want her there. I knew she’d be pissed at what I was going to do.
Don’t you want me around? she texted back. I smiled, imagining a cute pout sweeping across her face.
Sure I do, I answered, resigned. I’ll see you there. Ten o’clock.
By that time, it would all be over.
CHAPTER 4
Breaking In
The others, Richie, Spiro, and Jake, were already at the Center by the time I got there.
“I was starting to think you were gonna jam out,” Richie laughed as I squeezed through the opening.
I just sneered at him.
“You guys ready?” I said.
I scanned through the hacks listed in my HUD, double-checking that they were all there and ready to go.
Richie double-checked his own list. Finally, he smiled. “Okay — beat it.”
I headed back out. “Good luck,” he called after me.
Not wanting to take any chances, I boarded to within about ten blocks of the target, then strapped the board to my back and Cam-surfed on foot. On the way I passed one of the thousands of SecureCorp posters that dotted Tintown. Superimposed on a backdrop of the city, the face of Charles Wickham, the CEO of SecureCorp and one of the most powerful men in the world, stared down at me, pointing his finger, as if to warn me off what I was about to do.
Twenty minutes later the target came into sight. I felt good. The intel from the web was that it was one of SecureCorp’s less important locations. Looking at it seemed to confirm that. It was a crumbling brick building at the outer edge of the Corp Ring. Walking by, you’d never guess what it was. We figured that, seeing as it wasn’t an ultra-modern monolith like most Corp buildings, security wouldn’t be as tight. At least that was the theory.
A crypted message had come in a few days ago about a flaw in the SecureCorp monitoring system. Richie and Spiro had rigged up a hack to utilize it. I volunteered to test it out. You never knew for sure whether these messages were some loser pretending they were clever, or maybe even deliberately trying to mess with the Cam-surfers. Some of the kids even claimed that SecureCorp themselves put some of the hacks out to catch us.
But this one came from a trusted source (if there was such a thing). Anyway, you only live once, right?
“I’m going for
it,” I whispered into my controller.
All I heard at the other end was an intake of breath. I flipped off the messaging functions in my HUD. There couldn’t be any more communication until I said so. We all knew that if I got nailed I’d be on my own. I wouldn’t expect, or even want, the others to help me.
The target door was in sight. It was some kind of delivery entrance, but it still had cameras focused on it, and a surveillance drone passed by every fifteen minutes. The hack the guys had come up with was awesome. Richie had set up my HUD’s ID cast so it would simultaneously freeze the outside camera images for ten minutes — any longer and the video motion monitors would register a warning — and crack the electronic lock on the door. They claimed that all this would be undetectable by SecureCorp. Well, we’d see.
We’d cased the place enough times to work out the schedule of the drones. All I had to do was wait until one had just passed, to give me enough time to get inside, grab whatever I could, and get out again before it returned. Piece of cake — in theory.
My HUD said nine-thirteen PM. The next drone run should be at nine-fifteen exactly. I positioned myself at a corner, in a camera gap with a view of the door, and waited. The drones could detect the bat of an eyelash for a radius of ten meters, so I had to stay perfectly still. Part of my head was exposed as I peeked around the corner, but the drones weren’t as good at detecting and identifying shapes at a distance if they weren’t moving.
Exactly two minutes later I heard the faint hum of the drone. My spine stiffened as it shot around the corner of the SecureCorp building. Its non-reflective black exoskeleton was almost invisible at night, but we had another hack that edge-detected the outlines and enhanced the image. It was still just a blur, but it was a blur you could follow, a bright mesh of stitching against the night, outlining its insect-like frame.
It stopped for a few seconds, scanning. I was sure I hadn’t moved. I fought against my fear and willed my body to stop shaking. The drone headed toward the door. If it saw me, there’d be nothing to indicate it. I’d find out when the SecureCorp goons surrounded me with their guns drawn. All I could do was stand still and pray I was in the clear.
The drone hovered for a while, then took off. I waited for one minute after its last echoes had faded away. Then I exhaled, stepped out from around the corner, and took one last look. It was gone.
I studied the door. Assuming the hack worked, I could get inside without getting caught. Problem was, nobody knew what was on the other side. This was a SecureCorp building — anybody who’d seen the inside was either part of that organization or wasn’t coming out again. That’s why all I was planning to do was sneak in a little way, see if there was something I could grab, and run for my life. If I made it in and back out again I’d be a legend. If not, I’d be toast.
I scanned the connecting alleys in every direction, the blood thumping in my ears. There was nobody around. I held up the controller on my right wrist and made one last scan of the door, with detection on. The glow of a spotlight circled it like a halo. The cameras were there — two of them. I wouldn’t know whether the hack worked until I was almost in front of them.
I lifted the bandanna tied around my neck to cover the bottom part of my face. If a camera caught me I’d be harder to identify. I swallowed hard and snuck toward the door. My HUD showed the proximity. With one more step I’d be in range. I was at the point of no return. I either had to activate the hack and pray that it worked, or walk away.
I pressed the button on my controller to turn on the hack. There was nothing, no alarm, no indication that anything had changed. After a couple of seconds, my HUD said the cameras were frozen. I was breathing hard as I rushed up to the door and tried the handle. Open!
I had to hurry. The hack would expire in less than ten minutes. I pulled the door open. I was facing a long, dimly-lit hallway. High on the right-hand wall about halfway down was another camera, but I was sure I could squeeze past it. I slid inside and closed the door behind me, my heart hammering against my ribcage.
The door thunking shut jolted me back to reality. What the hell was I doing? But I was in. I edged along the closest wall, out of range of the camera. The motion detectors that dotted the hallway appeared on the HUD as yellow dots. The hack was supposed to disable them as well. There were no boots pounding toward me and no screaming sirens, so it must have worked.
There was a door a few meters along the wall I had my back against. Light streamed out through a small window at head height. I made for it, holding my breath. When I got there, I put my ear against it. Silence. My body shook as I stood on tip-toes and peeked through the window. I was staring down another hallway, about twenty meters long, with another door halfway along it, on the right. That door was open, and light spilled out from it to the hallway floor. Beyond it, the hallway continued for a few meters then took a right. My HUD didn’t show any alarm on the door in front of me, and it was out of range of the nearest camera.
I hesitated for a few seconds, then took a deep breath, turned the handle, and opened it. Nothing. I breathed out as I stepped inside, gently eased it shut and rushed down the hall.
I was so stressed out that at first I didn’t notice the humming sound in the outer hallway. When it finally registered, it was unmistakable — a drone, headed in my direction. It was almost at the door I’d just come through. I raced to the door ahead of me, and ducked inside just as I heard the first door click open.
I moved away from the opening, pressed my back against the inner wall, and held my breath. I glanced around. The room was large, and brightly lit. There was a single examination table in the center. I looked closer and froze. There was a guy strapped to it. He looked impossibly ancient: thin white hair, pale, mottled skin hanging from him like cords. At first I thought he was dead. Then he lifted his head. My heart just about stopped.
The drone hummed along the hallway outside. It paused at the open door beside me and hovered for a few seconds, while I stood just out of sight, shaking. Finally, it continued down the hall without coming inside. The old man was staring at me. In a few seconds, the drone hummed by going the other way. I heard the outer door open and close again, and the hum faded into the distance.
I was about to take off, then I remembered why I was here. With one eye on the old guy, I checked the bench beside the closest wall. Nothing. Finally, I noticed a card storage case in one corner. It had a keypad on top — protected by an electronic combination. I grabbed the top and pulled on it — it was locked. There’s no way I was going to carry the whole thing around when I left, and anyway it was anchored somehow to the bench.
I glanced back. The old man’s lips started moving.
“Help me,” he whispered, in a voice like dried leaves.
I couldn’t just leave him. I approached the examination table. There was a strap across his chest, and another one across his ankles. Both straps were buckled down at the bottom of the table where the guy couldn’t reach. I checked my watch — less than seven minutes. In a panic, I undid the straps.
“Can you walk?” I asked him.
He tried to slide his feet off the table, but they barely moved. He closed his eyes and his fists clenched.
“They drugged me,” he said. “It’s no use.”
I felt like a jerk, but there was nothing I could do for him. I’d be lucky if I got out of here myself.
He lifted a shaking right arm and pointed. I followed his hand. He was pointing at a poster taped to the wall beside the card case. It showed a golden sun rising over a range of mountains. Below it was a caption: Celebrate Our World: 11-10-64.
“That’s what you want,” he said.
I glanced back at him. He was still pointing. Suddenly it hit me. I rushed to the card box and entered the numbers from the poster on the keypad of the storage case. A tiny light on the top turned green. I checked on the old man. He’d dropped his arm. I grabbed the lid of the unit and it opened.
Inside were a set of cards. Most of them didn�
��t look that interesting. I didn’t have much time. I grabbed one at the back that had the SecureCorp gold-shield logo in one corner. In the other corner was a line drawing of a butterfly. I scanned it with the HUD controller. No locator, or at least the locator wasn’t enabled, so it would be safe to take it.
I stuffed the card in my pocket, and turned back to face the old man.
“It’s alright,” he said, with the saddest of smiles. “Save yourself. Get out while you can. They’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I took off. When I got to the hallway door I peeked through the little window. The main corridor was empty — there was no sign of the drone.
I checked the time and drew in a breath. I’d been inside for eight minutes. The hack was about to expire. If I didn’t make it through the exit and out of camera range in two minutes I was dead.
I slunk along the hallway as fast as I could. I reached the door, and opened it a crack. A SecureCorp cycle was crawling by. The rider didn’t look my way — just routine. I closed the door and waited. I checked the time — twenty seconds.
They ticked by: fifteen, ten. I opened the door again. The cycle was just disappearing around a corner. Seven seconds. I opened the door and slipped outside.
Three seconds. I took off like a bullet.
CHAPTER 5
The Prize
Back at the Center, my hands were still shaking as I pulled the ‘trophy’ card out of my pocket and stared at it. Richie leaned over my shoulder to see. It was kind of disappointing. Plain white on one side, with the SecureCorp logo and the butterfly drawing. The other side had two columns of numbers in the center. It wasn’t that impressive. It didn’t even really prove I’d been in the building.
“What do think the numbers are?” Richie asked, obviously not that impressed either.
Vita Aeterna Page 2
