A half hour later, Eli was at the reception desk paying for Kilt’s transformation. “Big improvement, buddy,” he commented.
Kilt rubbed his now freshly trimmed beard. “Thanks. I’m glad I didn’t get rid of the whole thing.”
“Baby steps. At least you did something about the hair.”
“Yeah.” Kilt ran a hand through his freshly blow-dried mane, which was now only around his ears instead of to his shoulders. “Oh hey, don’t forget this.” He set a sea green jar on the counter.
“What is it?” Eli checked the price tag, $299.
“It’s a cream Antonio gave me.” He touched his cheeks lightly with his fingertips. “To help reverse all the sun damage.”
“Fine.”
The receptionist scanned the jar and the total popped up on the screen.
“And don’t forget to leave Antonio a good tip,” Kilt added.
After they left and went on their way, they were momentarily diverted by a crowd gathering outside a store.
“What’s the deal with this?” Kilt pointed. “Free bacon day?”
“No, it’s a crystal store,” Eli replied. “They must have a new shipment.”
They passed by the zealous crowd, not one of them so much as glancing at Kilt, and it wasn’t because of his fresh shave. The mob, women mostly, were bunched together in ordered chaos, pressing against one another, their eyes raised like a congregation anticipating the Messiah.
Kilt turned to him. “Do these crystals have special powers or something?”
“To them,” Eli gestured, “yes.”
“What exactly are they?”
Eli pointed to a poster hanging in the window of a glass mermaid, her hair forever lifted and floating, adorned in prisms, her tail fins ending in two sharp points. “They’re just figurines, collector’s items.”
Kilt scratched his head. “Are they useful…or valuable?”
“No and yes.” Eli moved out of the way for a frizzy headed lady squeezing past, clutching a light blue, store brand box, her teeth bared, stubby and white, like broken off bits of chalk. He continued. “The manufacturers create the pieces, set the prices, and distribute them sparingly, thus controlling the market.”
Kilt frowned and studied the mermaid poster. “So they’re all going crazy over these essentially worthless paper weights.”
“Pretty much.”
“Except who uses paper anymore?”
“No one.”
“That’s right.” Kilt turned to Eli. “So then what’s the point?”
Eli tilted his head. It was interesting. He and Kilt were both outsiders, newbies to the Corp world, and Kilt was questioning one of the same things Eli had upon his arrival. This consumer obsession wasn’t limited to crystal trinkets. Mobs also formed around other novel, unnecessary items: children’s toys, specialty coffees, ugly purses, new models of handhelds so complicated no one but a programmer could understand the depth of their functions.
Often, he tried to understand the fever behind these fixations. Was it a competitive drive, lack of imagination, boredom? “I’m not sure,” he finally replied. “Sometimes I think it’s a way of exhibiting social status, but I really don’t understand it. After taxes and what all, we make so little money, why spend it on pointless scraps?”
Kilt turned and looked him in the eye. “In a world of financial equality, how else is someone going to raise their status?”
Eli was taken aback at the clarity of his statement. “Yes. Yes I suppose you are right. Social currency.” He looked up at the mermaid poster. “We are a jealous species.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
When they finally arrived at Eli’s apartment it was dinnertime, then again, anytime was dinnertime in Eli’s book.
Kilt unwrapped the jerky and laid the potatoes on the kitchen counter. “Help yourself.” He bit into a long, leathery meat strap and headed into the living room, plopping down on the couch.
“Thanks,” said Eli, practically drooling. He pulled off his work jacket and tossed it on the kitchen chair. He held a piece of jerky between his molars and ripped off a cheek full. Then he chawed away while scrubbing the potatoes, humming under his breath. Starting tonight, everything would begin to turn around for him. He was going to eat. He was going to find Mevia. He was going to bring her back.
Tonight, was the beginning of his resurrection.
Chapter 48
Eli stood in the shared office kitchen on the 72nd floor. He was alone while his colleagues were out dining in decadent restaurants, but today was the first time he was halfway thankful for his condition.
The entire floor had gone to Squish. They were celebrating three birthdays all rolled into one meal. Eli had refused an invitation, remorsefully of course, and nobody batted an eye as they hustled out the office.
He finished his lunch so as not to raise any eyebrows in case someone saw him eating later in the day. As soon as he wolfed down the last bite of potato, he took off down the hall and out the door.
As he headed towards the Global Tracking Systems lab he tried to appear nonchalant in case he ran into anyone. He could feel Kilt’s tracking device burning through his trouser pockets.
When he arrived at the lab entrance, he keyed in the access code he had lifted during a recent hack. He found an override number so he wouldn’t have to complete the retinal scan portion. Eli did not like closed doors, and upon arriving to CorMand, he made it his personal vendetta to find the override codes to each and every office and lab.
He pressed [Enter] and the door slid open—the sweetest of welcomes. “Don’t mind if I do.” Once inside, he did a quick survey. The dim room was filled wall to wall with rows of workstations situated like church pews before the giant alter of a radar screen that stretched up to the ceiling. Only two soldiers were there, working together on one station, but they were too engrossed to notice Eli. Staying close to the back wall, he snuck over to the room where the individual work stations were located.
He was able to make it in without anyone noticing. This room was almost a carbon copy of the other except it was well lit.
Eli chose a workstation at the far corner of the large room. He passed another soldier studying a computer screen. The two nodded at each other. Eli’s heart was pounding but the guy didn’t blink an eye.
He sat down at a long table and punched in an access code on the station key pad. This one he stole from another soldier while surfing a database. Someone named Joseph Ward. Don’t worry Sergeant Ward. I’ll be gone before you know it.
Whenever Eli lifted credentials, as he did, more times than he could count, he was always careful not to get anyone into hot water, and despite past accusations, he had never stolen a cent in his life. He was a hacker, but he had morals.
The holographic computer screen appeared, its laser blue light reflecting off the glass desk.
Excellent. He removed from his left pocket a cord he would be using as an adapter. From his right pocket he pulled out the tracking device—alive, its green light blinked furiously.
He attached the two and then reached underneath the table, plugging the whole thing into the receiver.
Now, he was in business. He placed his hands upon the holographic keyboard and without having to pause or make a calculation; he typed in a program to extract the data. Eli’s fingers danced across the table like a spider spinning its web.
He pressed [Enter] and waited.
“There you are,” he whispered. His eyes fixated on the flashing green data point. He had finally found Mevia. He touched the blinking dot, watching the lasers contort over his hand. Nearly overcome with emotion, Eli leaned back in his chair and covered his mouth, his breath rapid and hissing through his fingers. Yes, he was going to cherish the Great Joseph Ward hack, but he didn’t want to test his luck by dwindling too long. He quickly typed in some line of code telling it to store the map in a secret database he had used in the past. He exited out of the program and off the workstation.
“Eli?”
His heart leapt into his throat. He tried to compose himself before he turned around.
“Oops sorry to startle you.” Standing over him was Cheryl Beard the red headed sergeant of Ball Busters division one. Her shoulders were pulled back making everything on her front half appear stretched and strained, from the tight twisted bun on the top of her head to the taut unapologetic smile across her face.
“Hi Cheryl. I was just deep in thought.” Eli stood, trying to get out of there quickly, but she blocked his way, and that’s when it hit him, he couldn’t just walk off; the tracking device was still plugged in under the desk. Shit.
Cheryl still had a smile but behind it was a look that said ‘your hand might not be in the jar, but I know you stole a cookie.’
“Deep in thought, you say? What about?” She crossed her arms. Cheryl had aspirations of becoming a full General. She made it a habit to share these intentions with anyone who would listen, not that they did. Eli always thought it was a shame she was so short. Perhaps if she were taller she wouldn’t feel the need to bull everyone around. Cheryl was not popular at CorMand and he couldn’t think of a single person who actually liked her, well, except for one in particular: Villus.
She tilted her head. “You didn’t go to lunch with the rest of your group?”
“No. I ate here. My allergy.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She looked him up and down. Eli casually shifted to his right, hoping his position covered the blinking light.
“Eli, just curious,” she said with a fake laugh in her voice. He groaned internally. By the sound of it, he was in for a classic ball busting.
“Yeah?” His elation from his hack had already melted away.
“What are you doing in the GPS lab? How did you get in?”
“I have the credentials to enter.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t think anyone from Programming had credentials to use the GPS system.”
“I do. It was part of the deal I made when I came to CorMand.”
She pursed her lips and studied him.
When Eli first came to CorMand, he planted a rumor that he had been given special security clearance in a deal he made with Colonel Harried. He strategically fed this intel to help shield him from suspicions knowing he would never be able to give up snooping—all those computers, the secrets, the data, he was like a sumo in a sushi bar. So he bought himself some insurance with the rumor. It worked out beautifully because everyone knew how much Villus hated him and that Eli was only around because Colonel Harried insisted. The special access helped show just how much the Colonel liked him and represented a reason for Villus to hate him. It was one of his best social hacks thus far. Everyone seemed to buy his cover which left him free to explore.
Everyone except Cheryl. “Right. This deal I keep hearing about.”
Eli was quickly losing patience. “Yes, now if you’ll excuse me.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I am. I just remembered I have an analysis to run.” His heart was pounding, and now the soldier sitting at the other workstation was listening.
Cheryl took a step closer, her arms still crossed. The blinking lights behind his back felt as bright as the former Vegas strip.
“You’re not hacking are you, Jackson?” she said the word ‘hacking’ like she would say sodomize or masturbate.
“Relax, Cheryl I’m looking at some data for a drone project.”
“What project?”
“It’s top secret.” He smiled as though he had tasted something very sweet.
“Right. I’m not buying it.” She stood up on her stubby little toes and tried to peer over Eli’s shoulder. Now he was panicking. If she saw the device he would be busted, but he couldn’t block her view without looking sketchy. If he made her more suspicious than she already was, then it was game over.
“Sergeant Beard! I need your assistance,” the other soldier called.
“In a minute, Wilson.” She turned back to Eli. “Jackson you—“
Suddenly a siren went off from one of the computers. It was the emergency alert.
“Sergeant Beard! I lost an air drone!” Wilson called frantically.
This sent Cheryl into a fit, her face turning as red as her hair. She stormed over to Wilson’s side. “What are you doing even logging into Air from here?”
In a flash, Eli unplugged the device, slipped it into his pocket and walked away. As he passed, Wilson gave him the smallest of smiles.
Eli nodded. It looked like Cheryl’s lack of popularity was biting her in the ass again.
When he made it back to his desk, he nearly collapsed with relief, but only allowed a moment of reprieve before he got busy covering his tracks. It would be harder to do so remotely from a Programming workstation, but not impossible. He hoped Cheryl wasn’t already running off and reporting him to Villus.
Eli restarted his computer to complete the process.
After his screen shut off, he kept his fingers on the table, knuckles bent, tips erect hovering over the points where the laser keyboard was glowing just moments before. He shut his eyes, still seeing that green data point on the map where Mevia was waiting for him. Kilt would be impressed by how fast he got the job done, although he probably wouldn’t admit it. Eli was already anticipating the look on his face.
He opened his eyes and logged back in. Kilt would have to wait a few more hours to hear the good news. Tonight, after work, Eli was meeting with Dr. Hersche in his lab to give blood samples.
There was an edginess deep in his gut over the idea of delving into his past by working with Hersche, but he had to remember that this was just another hacking project, a little snooping around, information gathering. Only this time, it was he who was the hack.
Chapter 49
Kilt
After an irritating ten minute search, Kilt finally found the switch that controlled the window shades. He watched in reserved awe as the grey coverings floated down, spreading across the glass, smooth as hot butter on bread. Growing up on the farms, he had been around his fair share of field machinery, but seeing it inside the home was a different story. These Corp apartments were a long shot from the little cabin of his boyhood, and frankly, he’d rather be in one of those right then instead of this robo-box Eli called home.
However, even he had to admit being impressed by the view. Now that was a first. He opened the window and stuck his torso out into the open air. Feeling the solar light from that high was like basking in an invisible blanket. He stood there for as long as he dared, admiring the way the light cascaded across the city creating nooks of shadowed divots, secret places, their mysteries adding texture to the landscape.
He could have stayed like that all day, but he had to be smart. Even though Eli Jackson’s apartment was probably the last place they would look for him, having the windows open made him uneasy. He didn’t want to risk anyone, not even the neighbors knowing he was there. Things were falling into place and he couldn’t take any chances.
Kilt wandered around the apartment. Where would he explore today? The sterile kitchen? The barren living room? Or the stark bedroom? This was his second day “hanging out” and he was flat bored. Nothing to do and nowhere to go. Having never grown up with a television—only a community screen in the Town Hall where they watched the required GovCorp programming—he didn’t have much taste for the sanctioned shows.
Eli had been good enough to fully stock the fridge with beers and Corp-food, all the stuff he himself couldn’t eat. Originally Kilt was excited to taste the chow of the rich. His first meal was a frozen chicken pot pie. Per Eli’s instructions he inserted it into the Ultrawave for ten seconds. When Kilt removed the pie, he was flabbergasted at the steaming, perfectly round golden pastry.
He tried not to appear impressed. Eli had an eager look in his eyes as he watched Kilt cutting into his meal. “Radioactive peas,” Kilt had mumbled.
“No, I don’t think it works that way,” Eli replied sitti
ng at the table, his chin resting on his hand.
Kilt scooped out a spoonful of chicken, veggies and thick sauce. It looked delicious. He blew away the steam and took his first bite.
“What do you think?” Eli’s eyes were hopeful. He was leaning forward across the table studying Kilt’s face.
Kilt didn’t like the way Eli was looking at him like he was his new adopted China baby. “It’s awful.” He swallowed and tossed his spoon in the bowl. “You’re not missing out.”
“Oh.”
Kilt watched Eli’s face shift. He wasn’t angry. In fact he looked the same as he always did: neutral. “Are you always this tired?” Kilt asked. Eli just shrugged. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. Still in his early twenties, but he was aging quickly. And man alive, was he was thin. His uniform bunched around his middle, pants sagging around his ankles and bagging at his waist making him look like an enlisted scarecrow.
Kilt finished eating the pie without a word. It was true, the stuff was terrible, but he didn’t have to say that.
Later, when Kilt ate another meal, he commented on how he felt different, disjointed, unconnected, as if he were floating and observing himself from afar. “And my eyes,” he said. They had suddenly become itchy and red. “It must be all the drugs they inject in everything.”
Eli was watching TV, some obnoxious reality show. He didn’t look up, just nodded. “Drugs, vitamins. Whatever it is, it’s the same stuff my body rejects.” He turned to Kilt, with a curious frown. “It really makes you feel funny?”
Kilt rubbed his head and moved into the living room. Eli was in the easy chair so he chose the couch. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Did you drink any of the beer?”
He tried to focus on the shapes moving across the television screen, but his brain couldn’t seem to keep up with the picture. In fact, although he was trying to pay attention, he couldn’t seem to get his mind centered around any single thought. He began thinking about the girl with the pink purse he met in the streets. Wasn’t he supposed to “star” her page? But how could he do that? It would be really nice if she could make it into the Corps, or better yet, go back home to her family. Then his mind flashed to images of the green-eyed gene-queens from the civie-shops and wait…what was that noise? There was a noise outside, he was sure of it. Maybe he should check...
Children of the Kradle (Trilogy Book 1) Page 30
