Escape The Grid: Volume 1

by Patrick F. Kelly

  At key moments, he had panicked, but it was never merited. Everything had happened just as she told him it would. He committed to himself to put his full faith in her from now on. His life would never be the same.

  She’s real, and she told me the truth about everything.

  It’s time to do something worth remembering.

  PART FOUR

  UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

  36

  IT WAS AROUND 3 AM central time when Thomas crawled out of his protective cylinder. Like a newborn sliding from the darkness of the womb, Thomas’ eyes were stunned by the lights. He squinted as he tried to acclimate to his new surroundings.

  “We didn’t really get a chance before, but my name is Elizabeth. Welcome to Jasper,” she said, hugging him.

  He returned the embrace, softly at first and then with zeal and excitement.

  “Whoa, big fella,” she said. “I’m a little too old for a bear hug.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. I’m just so excited,” he replied. He pulled back and looked her in the eyes, “Thank you so much. You risked your life for my sake, and I’m forever in your debt.”

  Thomas’ eyes were almost fully adjusted now. He looked around and saw what appeared to be a trailer park. He started counting the little houses.

  Elizabeth cut in, “We’re in the back woods here. It’s not shiny city life, but it is very comfortable. You’ll have quite a bit of freedom but need to take certain precautions. Like this...”

  She pulled a wig out of her bag and put it on his head. “We’ll get you a better one after we take some measurements, but for now you shouldn’t ever be outside without trying to seem like a woman. There are satellite surveillance cameras and occasional drone planes that fly over and take pictures. Machines so high up, you’ll never see them or know that they exist. I don’t think their resolution is very good. As long as you’re clean shaven, wearing a wig and dressed in something a small town woman would wear, your image shouldn’t get flagged by their algorithms.”

  “I assumed I would always be indoors,” Thomas said.

  “Safe assumption. You will be indoors most of the time, but if you take the right precautions, you’ll be able to walk around the complex. We haven’t been bothered here, so we assume that the authorities don’t know about us. But there’s plenty of time to talk about this tomorrow. I’m tired, I’m sure you are too, so what say we get you to your room?”

  Thomas nodded, “Sounds good.”

  “OK, then. Follow me. Before I forget though, do you have a phone?”

  “Yes,” Thomas said.

  “OK. Take it out and power it down.”

  “It’s powered down already.”

  “Great. I’ll need to take it for the protection of the community.”

  Thomas hesitated. “Why is that? Isn’t it secure?”

  “No cell phone is secure, Thomas. The NSA has software listening to every call. The software red flags any call where it hears a man’s voice. Even if they can’t tap into the GNSS on the phone, they’ll know which cell tower the phone used, so they could be in Jasper within an hour.”

  “What’s GNSS?”

  “You know, satellite navigation stuff.”

  “I don’t get it. Is it illegal for a man to use a cell phone?”

  “Not yet. But when the authorities figure out you escaped the camp, they’ll start looking. May be tomorrow, may be in a few months. We’ve seen it before. They start screening for any man in the surrounding area using a cell phone.”

  “Julia told me that this phone makes encrypted calls.”

  “We can’t take any chances. They’ll be scanning every transmission in Tennessee, decrypting what they can, looking for your voice profile. If the NSA finds you, the entire community will be brought down,” Elizabeth looked somber. “It’s protocol, Thomas. I have to take everyone’s phone. When you leave, you can have it back. Just don’t use it within 100 miles of here.”

  “I understand. I hadn’t thought of that,” he said, handing her the phone.

  “You’ll be staying in this little house with a man named Alexander. His roommate left a week ago for Ecuador. Alexander is the kindest soul on the property. He’s 71 years old, so he’s seen it all.”

  They had been walking and talking as they approached the house. The door was unlocked. Elizabeth opened it and went in. “He was expecting us, obviously,” she said.

  The house was quite small, maybe 400 square feet, but bigger than the cube Thomas had lived in for twenty years. The door opened outwardly, to allow for more space, and when they walked in, they were immediately in the kitchen. There was a note on the refrigerator.

  “Please make yourself at home. I’ll probably be asleep when you arrive. There is food and drink in the fridge, including some fresh peaches. I was told you love Georgia peaches. Your bed is up the stairs in the loft. See you in the morning. I hope you like coffee. - Alexander”

  Nice touch. Very thoughtful.

  Thomas looked around and saw a set of stairs that doubled as shelving on the side wall. He followed them up with his eyes and saw a nice little bed sitting in a small loft. He looked down and saw a room in the back where he assumed Alexander was sleeping. There was a bathroom to the side with the door cracked open. A little table with two chairs stood in front of him in the kitchen area. The house used its space efficiently and contained many modern luxuries.

  No grid connection, though. Probably for the best.

  Thomas needed to wean himself off the grid. Adjust his usage to a more appropriate number of hours per day. This place could be a rehabilitation for him.

  “Shall I let you get some sleep?” Elizabeth asked. “You’ll have a big day tomorrow getting to know people. You’ll probably need some new clothes, from the look of your backpack. I don’t handle any of that stuff, but I’m guessing that you’ll meet Debbie tomorrow and she’ll walk you through everything.”

  Thomas thanked her again and they said their goodbyes. He looked in the fridge and grabbed a peach. He found one that was perfectly ripe, and washed it in the sink. He then found a napkin and began to eat the peach, peeling and all.

  It was succulent, fresh, delicious. If joy had a taste, it would taste like this, every bite better than the last. He found himself licking the core as well as licking the juices from his fingers.

  “Wow,” he said out loud, wiping his fingers with the napkin and putting the core into it. He found the trash compactor and dropped them both in it, and then walked up to the loft. The bed was incredibly comfortable and slightly larger than his old bed. He laid on it and hit the light switch. In less than ten minutes, he was dreaming.

  When he woke up, there was a glaring sun coming into the kitchen. He looked down and saw an old man sitting at the table, reading a book.

  “Hello,” Thomas said.

  The man looked up. “Well, hello to you. Thomas, right?”

  “Yes sir,” Thomas replied. He got up and began to walk down the stairs.

  “I’m Alexander. It’s mighty nice to make your acquaintance. I see that you enjoyed one of the peaches. They are fresh from the property. Delicious, huh?”

  “Oh, wow. It was really good. You grow them here?”

  “Well, I don’t grow them here. But some of the women on the property grow them, as well as blackberries and corn and tomatoes and okra. Debbie makes a blackberry cobbler that is to die for, with homemade ice cream made from fresh milk.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’ll gain 20 pounds in my first month,” he laughed. “I haven’t eaten a cobbler since I was a kid.”

  Thomas looked at his book and asked, “Is that a Bible? That’s another thing I haven’t seen since I was a kid.”

  Alexander gently closed the book and looked up at him. “This book is almost 50 years old. It has held up remarkably well. I try to read a few passages every day.”

  “Any words of wisdom?”

  “Well, I often tell the new folk a couple verses from Corinthians,” Alexander said. He cha
nged his voice, quoting scripture, “The little troubles we suffer now for a short time are making us ready for the great things God is going to give us forever. We do not look at the things that can be seen. We look at the things that cannot be seen. The things that can be seen will come to an end. But the things that cannot be seen will last forever.”

  “I hope you are right about that, sir,” Thomas said.

  “Have faith, Thomas. You are here. You are protected. I understand that someone who loves you is coming to pick you up and take you out of the country. From where I sit, God has blessed you in abundance.”

  “That is a very positive spin on things,” Thomas replied, smiling. “I hope that some of your positive attitude can rub off on me.”

  “We all make choices, Tom, mind if I call you Tom?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Well, we all make choices on what we allow ourselves to absorb. Whether it is food, sounds, sights, experiences, we have a freedom to choose, to a great extent, what we allow in. You have chosen to leave behind your old life. And now you begin a new chapter where you can make new choices.”

  “A friend of mine told me that values are like fingerprints. Nobody’s are the same, but you leave ‘em all over everything you do,” Thomas said.

  “Sounds like a wise friend.”

  “It was an AI, actually. An Elvis impersonator.”

  Alexander cackled, “Now, that is funny. Worldly wisdom from a computer. Well, I suppose he had a wise programmer.”

  “Mr. Alexander,” Thomas said.

  “Please, call me Alex.”

  “Alex, OK. Sure. Alex, how did you end up in Jasper?”

  “I’ll give you the short version. I grew up around this area and was a psychiatrist for many years. My wife once explained to my youngest daughter that my job was to make people happy. And my daughter, she was about five years old, she asked how I did it. How did I make people happy?”

  Alexander paused. Thomas waited expectantly.

  Alex continued, “My daughter says to my wife, ‘Does daddy tickle them?’ and my wife and I just broke down laughing.”

  He giggled. Thomas smiled.

  “I did that job my whole life. In fact, I had no intention of retiring, but then the FPA was passed and I had to go into hiding. Sometimes others make choices for you.”

  “Does your family live around here?”

  “My wife died in a car accident before any of this craziness started. Thank goodness for that. God spared her seeing the terrible decisions we had to make. I have two daughters who helped me get situated here, and they come and visit me from time to time. They paid some people about five years ago to give me a fake funeral, so the authorities assume that I’m no longer with the living.”

  He laughed, thought for a second about whether to continue, and then said: “I used to be so against government corruption and law breaking, and here I am now, breaking multiple laws and telling you about the payoffs I’ve done.”

  “Your secrets are safe with me. All of us here are criminals, I take it?”

  “You are correct. We are a bunch of illegals, but I’ll be darned if we don’t all seem like nice enough folk.” He grinned.

  “How many men are here?”

  “Well, there are over 20 of these little houses, and some of them have one person and some have three or four. There are some women here, some of them married to the men-folk. Some of the men are like yourself, and in transit. Others stay and do work for the group.”

  “Work? What kind?”

  “Well, since we can’t go outside much, some of the guys have grid setups and they do work on the grid logged in as the women. Whatever tasks that come up, you know. Odd jobs that help pay the bills. We all work together to feed almost 100 of us. The welfare covers most of it, especially since the cost of living in small town Tennessee is cheap, but we only get welfare for about 25 women, so supplementary income is needed. Did you work at the camp?”

  “Yes. My last job was in agriculture, where I picked Georgia peaches, among other things.”

  “So that is why you loved peaches? Debbie told me that you had a thing for fruit. I just assumed you were like the other guys and were tired of using the nutri-drips.”

  Thomas thought for a second about the nutri-drips. Twenty years of getting most of his nutrition through a feeding tube. No wonder he was so excited about blackberry cobbler.

  “Speaking of fruit, when might I get some of this blackberry cobbler?”

  “Debbie will be by soon. She usually brings the new guys a set of clothes and a wig for wearing outside. We call it tranny-wear. I hope you don’t have any shame in wearing women’s clothing.”

  “Shame is not a problem for me.”

  “Well, that’s good. You’ll get used to it eventually, but it’s a little weird at first to see a bunch of straight guys walking around in dresses and wigs.”

  “I saw a lot of weird things living on the grid.”

  “Right, but you didn’t think you’d see just as many in real life. Funny how life turns out, huh?”

  37

  MAXIME TOOK OFF his goggles and looked at Joey, who was smiling in the corner of the room.

  “What’d I tell ya? Huh? Did I deliver for ya or what?”

  You deceived me completely, Maxime thought.

  What he said was less blunt, “It’s just like you told me, sir.”

  “Don’t call me sir. Call me Joey. How about that VR setup? Best money can buy. Have you ever seen one that good?”

  It’s awesome, but I don’t know if it’s worth the price.

  “It’s phenomenal. Thank you. I love the upgraded suspension rig.”

  “Makes you really feel like you can run and jump from building to building, doesn’t it? I got everything custom fit for your height and build. But don’t thank me too much. I don’t run a charity here, so you’ll be working to pay off everything.”

  No shit! I have to pay you back ten times what it cost you.

  Ever since he had arrived, Joey had made it clear that every investment made, from getting him out to setting up his studio apartment to getting him the best possible VR equipment and access, was expected to be paid back in full, plus interest. That part wasn’t so bad, although Joey was charging some pretty crazy rates for the breakout and the monthly rent on the studio.

  Maxime’s real problem was with Joey’s expectation for work. They hadn’t discussed it much on the grid, although Maxime had plenty of hints at what the job entailed.

  At least he’s not expecting me to be some thug. No violence or stealing.

  The job was some kind of male servant to powerful women. One specific woman, actually. Maxime had to charm her with his knowledge and make her feel like the most beautiful, intelligent and desirable woman in the world. Unfortunately, she was an old, mean, and ugly politician.

  It was one thing to charm a woman in Support World who was upset about an order she placed. Maxime only had to spend a few minutes with them, and both parties were online with their avatar bodies. Maxime could easily fake it for twenty minutes and he could make small talk or help with discounts or other gifts to alleviate the stress. But these dates would be several hours long, where he had to learn French culture and romantic poetry and all sorts of topics he had no interest in. Plus, he had to learn it all in a few days and somehow come across as an expert.

  At least the last training had been interesting.

  The simulator had shown him every food item that would be prepared for their first date. How every vegetable was prepared, how the sauce was made, how the dessert was cooked. Maxime had learned about different techniques for each item, and why the preparations made by Joey’s robotic chef were considered the best practices in Paris. He had learned the major ingredients, how they were grown, which parts of the world each came from. The simulator taught him the French word for every item on the plate as well as conversation stories that could be brought up about them. For Maxime, who had spent ten years getting his nu
trition from a feeding tube, it was a whole new world of culinary abundance. Even the word “culinary” was new to him.

  Learning about the food whet his appetite for eating the real thing and, luckily, Joey had brought samples to his room. Maxime had always loved learning, so under normal conditions, he would have loved the training session of the morning. However, he couldn’t get the job out of his head. He had seen an avatar representation of Margaret Lane. He had read some of Joey’s research on her. Spending time with her was going to be difficult. Making her like him would be the hardest assignment of his life.

  He looked at the plates on the table. “Is it time? I’m starving, but I’m not sure how my body will respond to so much real food.”

  “Sit down, my friend. Your body will be fine. This ain’t my first rodeo,” Joey said.

  Maxime and Joey both sat down at his small kitchen table. The apartment was bigger than Maxime’s cube at the grid camp. It had a VR area, which took up about a fourth of the studio. His kitchen area and table took another fourth. His bedroom and bathroom and shower took up the rest. Maxime had not had a separate shower since he was a kid. In the grid camp, the shower head was directly over the metal toilet in a corner of the room with sloped metal floors. For ten years, Maxime showered by standing above the toilet with one foot on each side.

  The VR area was amazing in its state-of-the-art technology, including a robot with multiple arms that connected to his body suit with a suspension rig. Depending on the simulation, the arms could lift him, give him the sensation of flying or falling or being pulled back or pushed forward. Far better than a basic suspension setup, the model Joey installed was an extravagance that only the wealthiest gamers could afford. Maxime couldn’t wait to finish the day’s training and try out the equipment in Soldier World. He looked forward to working out with a war game and then taking a long, steamy shower.

  Joey pushed the first plate in front of him. It smelled incredible. “What is it?” Joey asked.

  Maxime looked at it and took in the smells. “Given the simulation training I just had, I’m going to guess venison.”