Escape The Grid: Volume 1

by Patrick F. Kelly

  “I figure, we can’t really be close friends if you don’t know my real name.”

  “Sure, I wanna know it,” he replied.

  “Sofia. Sofia Lowery,” she said proudly.

  Wow, that feels really good. I almost want to hug him now.

  “Thank you for telling me,” he said warmly.

  “Brice, you’re like my best friend now. I didn’t realize it until today. I hang out with you more than anybody.”

  “Well, I really like hanging out with you, Sonny. Er, I mean, Sofia.”

  “My mom is making me move to Washington. So, I won’t see my friends from school anymore, except on VR.”

  “Same as you see me,” he said.

  “Yeah, but it’s different with them.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t play much with them in VR. Except my friend Samitha. So, I’m going to miss them a lot.”

  “I’ll still be here.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m glad we’re friends,” he said. “Wanna see this new plant I found on Mars? It has purple and orange flowers.”

  “Sure,” she replied.

  Another person appeared on deck with them. He was older and dressed as a high-ranking starship commander.

  “Hello there, Brice,” the commander said.

  “Oh, my God. Hunter?”

  “Calm down,” the commander said.

  “I can’t believe it’s you,” Brice replied.

  “Who are you?” Sofia asked.

  “He’s a leader here at…” Brice began.

  “Now, now, Brice. Let’s be careful what information we disclose,” the commander interrupted him.

  “A leader where?” Sofia asked.

  “Brice, do you mind if I speak with Sofia for a little while?” the commander asked.

  “OK,” Brice replied.

  “Thank you,” the commander said. “Sofia, it’s wonderful to meet you. Let me introduce myself. I’m Hunter.”

  He reached out his hand, and she shook it.

  “I apologize to you both, but I was eavesdropping on your conversation,” Hunter continued. “I heard through the grapevine that Brice was meeting with someone who lived outside of the camp, and I wanted to confirm it for myself.”

  “You were listening?” Brice asked.

  “Well, my AI was. When Sofia told us her name, it notified me.”

  “Am I in trouble?” Sofia asked.

  “Not at all. No, I think it is wonderful that you and Brice are friends. In fact, I want to encourage you guys to keep hanging out. But I’m gonna ask you to go back to the name Sonny.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I think you know,” he replied.

  What is he talking about.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know,” she said angrily.

  “You’re lucky, Sonny,” Hunter said. “Lucky that I heard this and not some AI working for the NSA. You’re lucky because I have already deleted your conversations from the record. Lucky that I have disabled it recording our conversation right now. No one will ever know about our little talk, which is as it should be.”

  “What do you mean NSA?” Sofia questioned.

  “Yes, yes. Sofia Lowery. The twelve-year-old, only-daughter of Susan Lowery, one of the highest level agents at the NSA. I’m sure you know that the NSA has surveillance everywhere listening to everything. But there are resource constraints. There aren’t enough servers in the world or enough computing capacity to decode every conversation everywhere. So an innocent dialog in Spaceship Battleground might be missed.”

  How does he know all this about me?

  “The NSA listens to Spaceship Battleground conversations?” she asked.

  “Not usually. But they can, and they do when there is a person of interest,” Hunter replied.

  “I’m sorry, Hunter,” Brice said.

  “Don’t worry about it, bud. You didn’t know. That’s why I came. We have to be very careful. You two have to be very careful.”

  “How do you know about my mother?” Sofia asked.

  “That was an easy search the AI did once you told Brice your name. But now that I know, I can give you some warnings,” Hunter replied.

  “Yes?”

  “First, you have to be extra careful. Make sure you always log in through the dark webs using anonymous software, the way you are now. Never use your real name. I’ll delete all your recordings with Brice, but don’t ever tell anyone else.”

  “Why?”

  “Many reasons. For one, think of your mother’s career. If someone at the NSA finds you here, it will be bad for your mother. Which means it will be bad for you, and Brice, and all of us at Alcatraz.”

  “OK.”

  “Second, don’t ever mention San Diego or DC again. Pretend like you are also a resident of Alcatraz. The AI will never flag a conversation between two young kids from Alcatraz. It’s better if you say that you’re twelve.”

  “Anything else?” Sofia asked.

  “Yeah. Third, have fun. Know that you are always welcome here. We are your friends.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “That’s it,” Hunter finished. “I’ll leave you two alone. I won’t be listening to any more of your conversations, but I will keep my AI listening to make sure you follow the rules. Brice, please be careful. And come see me in the next few days when you are offline. I have a gift for you. Be good to Sonny. He’s a great kid!”

  With that, Hunter disappeared from the ship.

  “Wow,” Brice said.

  “Who was he?” she asked.

  “He’s like the main guy on the island. The one everybody looks up to. He’s got a huge following.”

  “Like the mayor?”

  “Something like that, but we don’t have a mayor here. He’s only 21 years old, but everybody treats him like the wise man of the village. The chief,” Brice said.

  “The commander,” Sofia smiled.

  89

  JULIA HAD HER helmet back on, but nothing was working.

  “He was right behind me,” she said, afraid. “Can I take the cart back in for him?”

  “I’ll go in,” Tito replied in Spanish.

  He put on his helmet. Once attached, he talked into the communication system.

  “Can you hear me?” Tito asked.

  “Yes,” Julia replied.

  “I’ve had a lot more training than you with these things. Trust me. I’ll go get him and bring him back.”

  She watched him grab a bag and get on her cart.

  “Medical supplies,” he said, in response to her stare.

  “He couldn’t be far behind me.”

  “How many minutes after you did he go in?” Tito asked, positioning the cart and setting up manual mode on the steering wheel.

  “Maybe four or five minutes,” she replied, doing the calculations in her head and assuming twenty miles per hour. “He couldn’t be more than a mile away.”

  Tito pushed the cart into the hole and took off.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  The lights came back on immediately and he controlled it to a 3 mph pace. There was essentially zero visibility in front of him, so it was dangerous to go much faster. The carts didn’t have the kind of infrared sensors or other technologies that the most basic automobiles had, so he would have to navigate old school through the darkness. To be safe, he had to go slowly.

  He just prayed that there was time.

  THOMAS DIDN’T REALIZE that he had no oxygen. When he had been trained to use the diving suit, they taught him about such symptoms as a high heart rate, problems with peripheral vision, slow response times, and dizziness. He was experiencing all the symptoms now, but he didn’t attribute them to oxygen loss.

  His high heart rate was an obvious adrenaline rush caused by the situation. He was looking into an all-black tunnel, so he didn’t know that his peripheral vision was impaired. The communication system in his helmet
didn’t work, so he had no way to discover his slow response times. Finally, he had just suffered a concussion, which explained the dizziness and headaches.

  He did realize that his leg had been lost, since there was an intense and continuous pain. When his hands had touched his knee, there was a shocking emptiness below the right thigh. Trying to crawl, he suffered a sharp, aching pulse with every inch his body pulled toward the light of the cart. It couldn’t be more than fifteen feet away, and yet it felt like miles.

  He also realized that his diving suit wasn’t critical. Wherever he was, it wasn’t deep enough for the pressure to crush him. Otherwise, the hole in his suit would be a portal of pressure crushing his entire body cavity. Since he was still alive, they couldn’t be very deep.

  Maybe the CNT tunnel is protecting me?

  As he crawled, his hands came across the cut tubing from his oxygen tanks. He felt a gas spraying out. His hands grasped his own tubing and found the gash.

  Fuck. How am I breathing?

  He took off his helmet and dropped his face to the ground next to the tube. He began breathing, directing the spraying gas toward his mouth. His mind obsessed on the pressure of the ocean crushing his skull, but seconds passed and he was still alive. After a few minutes, he regained his senses.

  She couldn’t be that far ahead, he thought.

  What had she said right before it all went black? Something about beeps.

  That’s right. She was scared.

  Maybe she hit something too? No. No. What happened? She said something about beeps, but then…

  Wait.

  Wait.

  She said that it was all ok. Baby, it’s ok. Something like that.

  Yeah. That’s what it was. And then she was saying hello to Tito. So she can’t be far away.

  How far ahead of me was she? Three or four minutes? At twenty miles an hour, that’s what? Twenty divided by sixty? No, sixty divided by twenty. A mile every three minutes.

  So maybe she’s a mile ahead.

  I just need to get back on this cart and drive it a mile. I can do this.

  I can do this.

  “TITO, DO YOU see anything?”

  Julia hadn’t stopped talking to him the whole journey. The last five minutes had seemed like hours.

  “I don’t,” he replied for the hundredth time.

  “Thomas, can you hear us?” she asked.

  It had been the same routine of asking Tito what he saw and calling for Thomas. Tito was only responding every third question.

  “Whoa!” Tito yelled.

  His cart slammed to a stop, almost throwing him over the steering wheel. His lights were shining brightly on a second set of lights. It was Thomas’ cart. Both had stopped automatically by sensing the proximity of the other.

  “Thank God,” Tito said, “I didn’t know it did that.”

  The software had saved their lives, stopping the vehicles far faster than any human could have. He opened his bag and took out a flash light, which had been ruggedized for the pressure of underwater missions. He crawled over his steering wheel with the light, in the tight spacing of the CNT tunnel.

  “What happened?” Julia asked over the radio.

  “Thomas?” Tito yelled.

  He realized that Thomas couldn’t hear him through the helmet. He checked the pressure levels in his heads up display and discovered that he could take the helmet off. As he pulled it off, he heard Julia screaming with questions.

  “Thomas?” he said again toward the shining lights.

  “I’m here,” came a reply.

  “It’s Tito. I’m coming to help you. Are you injured?” Tito asked.

  “My leg was cut off. I’m sure I’ve lost a lot of blood. I can’t see anything.”

  “Oh, no! Uhh, listen. Can you keep driving your cart to the top?”

  “I think so,” Thomas replied.

  “OK. I’m going to put my cart in reverse and we can go that way. Give me a minute. Come forward as soon as I move.”

  “OK.”

  Tito slithered back into position and returned the flashlight to the bag. He put his helmet back on and was greeted by Julia’s screaming.

  “I found him Julia. He’s alive, but he’s injured and we need to get everyone ready to transport him to a hospital. Have Vanessa get the medical kit ready.”

  “What? What happened?” she replied.

  Tito was putting the cart in reverse and punched in the coordinates to engage the auto-pilot.

  “He injured his leg.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “Julia, it’s not good. He must have lost communication. Just focus on getting everything set up with medical supplies and transport.”

  “Tell me the truth, Tito.”

  “Be quick, Julia. It’s very bad. I can’t see it in the dark, but I think he needs urgent medical attention.”

  90

  “MY LEG,” she screamed in French, waking from the nightmare. She felt her entire body covered in sweat and threw off the blanket.

  The nun came running in, terrified.

  “Are you all right, my dear,” she asked in French. “Can I bring you some water?”

  “I’m all right,” the woman replied. “Tell the Archbishop. I’ve had another vision.”

  The nun trembled, “A vision? Like the ones from before?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like the ones about the USA?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened, my dear?”

  “I saw him,” she replied. “A man from Tennessee. He escaped a slaughter. Hundreds of fragile creatures were being slaughtered from above, and this man escaped. He found a long black snake and was crawling through its belly. The snake bit off his leg.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The snake…”

  “I’ll go get the Archbishop.”

  “Yes,” the woman replied. “While the vision is fresh in my mind.”

  “Please dress yourself, dear,” the nun said, running from the room.

  It was only ten minutes before they returned. The Archbishop was dressed casually, as if he had rushed over after being awakened. He carried a recording device. The nun followed behind.

  “Hello, dear. I’m so happy to hear that you have a new vision to report,” he said. “I’m ready to take it down.”

  “I saw a Cardinal, from the Vatican. He will come to you. He will be looking for me. He will want to hear the vision.”

  “From the Vatican? When?” the Archbishop asked.

  “Very soon. I saw a one-legged man from Tennessee, crawling in the darkness. He crawled in the belly of a long black snake. A snake made, not born. Created in Haiti.”

  “A snake that was made? What kind of snake?” the Archbishop asked.

  “The kind doesn’t matter,” the woman said.

  “You told me it was long and black,” the nun said.

  “Its color and length don’t matter,” the woman replied.

  “What does matter?”

  “How many it will carry,” said the woman.

  “Carry? How many?” the Archbishop asked.

  “Enough to fight the war.”

  “What war?”

  “The war for freedom. Payback for the slaughter.”

  “What else, my dear? There must be more,” the Archbishop questioned.

  “The man from Tennessee will not die in vain.”

  She whispered the final words. The Archbishop watched her eyes move backward in her head. She collapsed on the bed.

  “What happened?” the nun asked.

  “It’s like the other times,” the Archbishop replied. “She has these visions and then falls into a deep sleep. It is like she is possessed. When she comes to, she has few memories of the vision.”

  “Possessed by the devil?” the nun asked.

  “I don’t think so. Let us pray that it isn’t so.”

  91

  IT WAS SIX days later and Julia was crying.

  “I just can’t b
elieve it,” she said.

  He picked up her hand and took it into his own. They both sat on the beach of Havana and looked at the waves crashing onto the sand.

  “I can’t believe it,” she repeated, and sipped on her Mojito. The sun was setting.

  He kissed her cheek.

  “There’s no need to cry, Julia,” he said.

  “It’s my fault this happened,” she replied.

  “You’re thinking of it all wrong,” he answered and moved her hand to touch the leg. “I can’t even tell the difference between the left and the right.”

  “You’re just saying that,” she replied.

  “No, for real. It’s not so bad. The doctors did an amazing job. I can still feel my calf and my foot almost like before. It’s sort of like my VR leg. It’s not exactly real, but it seems real enough and it works.”

  “You’ve got a great attitude about it. That’s for sure.”

  “Why not have a great attitude? I’m here in Cuba with my girl. I’m free. We’re on the beach. Sipping Mojitos.”

  “So, is it everything you hoped it would be?” Julia asked him.

  “It’s beautiful,” Thomas responded.

  “I mean, the beach, the Mojito, the real me,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “You don’t remember, do you? We sat on the beach of Resort World once holding hands, and I asked you if you’d like to do it in real life.”

  He thought about it and smiled. “I remember. I said that I didn’t think so because I’d be by myself.”

  “You wished that I were real, and now, here I am. I’m real.” She smiled at him.

  “Indeed you are, but no thick accent in real life,” he said, and leaned over and kissed her. “I remember asking for a Margarita.”

  Julia replied with a thick Spanish accent, “And deen I say that I wan’ a Mojito.”

  “And I said ‘Done Deal’ or something like that,” he laughed.

  She looked at him. “You said that you would die and go to heaven.”

  “I hope not. I’m already in heaven, baby.”

  “Me too, and it’s just starting. We have our whole lives in front of us.”

  “Yes, we do,” he replied.

  They both sipped their drinks and watched the tide.