It's fun to make up entire subplots on the fly... but then you have to resolve them. haha. Anyway, my digital science is tenuous and if I left some logical loopholes, I'll just have to patch 'em up in later chapters. Hope everyone is being careful. This too shall pass. Much gratitude to those risking their health to help others in this tragic event. - BH
Alive
Book 2
Pt28
1
The sun shone brightly in a partially clouded sky.
It was 65 degrees on the Fahrenheit scale; roughly 18.3 Celsius. Humidity was 36% with a 30% chance of precipitation.
The prevailing westerly winds were light, with gusts averaging 8 mph.
The time was 13:27 and 15 seconds …
…16 – 17 – 18 – 19…
"Focus!"
The sound of his own voice broke David from his trance and brought him back to the moment. He stopped scanning the weather report and tucked the readout into the back of his mind. It wasn't like he needed it to see what a beautiful autumn day this was. But this had become a bad habit of his; constantly scanning the flood of information that was now so easily available to him.
He had always been inclined to 'spacing' as Amanda had called it; those flights from reality during which he followed the winding paths of his imagination, searching for… for something he could never define. Inspiration?
But those short mental recesses had become all the worse with his new connection to the virtual world. Newscasts. Blogs. Public Access streams. CTTV streams. ISS streams. UAP capture streams. Encyclopedias, Wiki updates; all of it, just a thought away. It was like something shiny had nestled itself into the periphery of his sight. Always there. Always distracting. And he couldn't afford to become distracted. Not today.
The police reports, however, were critical. And he had been tracking them carefully, in a way no 'normal' Familiar user ever could. He was unique, as was his access to restricted information. That's how he had managed follow the trail of destruction 101 was leaving on the path of its road to… whatever it was the rogue was seeking.
The attacks had increased since David had installed his Familiar, going from a handful a day, to dozens. But 101 had refined its tactics; become better at masking the nature of the 'malfunctions', making it difficult for the authorities to determine if the incidents were related. His access to restricted streams had allowed David to watch it all happening in real time.
It was also how he had managed to slip by The Gatekeeper this morning, to get here, in his Stratocruiser, with only a training license, circling 5,000 feet above a cluster of decrepit buildings that lay in a partially submerged rural area on the outskirts of Haddonfield.
He'd been there before, not so long ago, accompanied by his blue-haired friend with the cotton candy soul. But the situation had changed dramatically in that short time. And so had David; in ways he would have anticipated.
As he banked the Stratocruiser he noticed a good landing spot below; a clearing in the trees about 300 yards from his destination. He fought the urge to open the Smart meter in his head for an exact measurement, and decided to circle the area a few times, just to make sure no eyes were on him.
There was one set of eyes, in particular, he wanted to avoid. If the plan he been working on for the last two days had worked, those eyes would be looking elsewhere.
He initiated his virtual gaze, and looked out on the landscape. The usual data traffic was obvious, streams of broken light traversing the information freeways that led to and from the cell towers planted in residential areas and centers of commerce.
They weren't truly 'streams of light', of course, but virtual artifacts; visual representations of signals and data streams created by the Familiar software interacting with his unique brain. … his 'brain from between'.
Thin beams rose from various points on the horizon, shooting into the sky, towards the satellites that lay beyond the atmosphere and even his unique vision. The ever-present gaze of the Gatekeeper shone like a dimly glowing haze over the city; millions of clustered data streams, keeping track of all who moved within her jurisdiction.
Below him, over the top of the old converted storage facility where he was headed, a single beam broke out intermittently, traversing the space between the building and a local cell tower at the speed of light. David had become familiar with that type of signal in the last few days; someone was sending or receiving messages.
He woke his Familiar. It popped into his field of vision and performed a little dance, executing a few quick pirouettes before bowing low. David sighed. It had started doing this just the night before, and he knew where it came from. The tiny avatar seemed to have taken on a life of its own in the three days since it had been installed.
Actually, it had been 87 hours, 21 minutes and 12 seconds…
…13 - 14 – 15 - 16…
"Focus!" he yelled.
His Familiar became confused. It shrugged dramatically, a quizzical expression on its cherubic face… his face… the face his creator had given him.
'Ignore that,' David thought. 'Initiate Mirror Mask.'
His Familiar understood this command. A pair of dark glasses suddenly appeared on its face, which indicated one of its many stealth modes was in play. This particular mode would mimic any other avatars it might encounter. David would still see his avatar, but other users would only see a replica of their own. Seeing this would, of course, let them know that something was wrong; that someone had breached their security measures. But they wouldn't know who… or why.
'Correct,' David thought, sending a conformation to his little avatar. 'Now, go get a read on that stream.'
He focused his attention on the traffic above the building below, to let the Familiar know which stream he was thinking about, and it rushed off in that direction.
It didn't really 'go' anywhere, of course. He was only seeing the visual representation of his command to attempt an analysis of the signal.
The Familiar returned a moment later bearing an exaggerated frown. It shrugged dramatically and waved its arms like a magician performing a trick. A display suddenly popped into view it; a series of numbers and coding symbols floating in David's field of vision.
He analyzed the code and quickly realized the encryption was too complicated to break in the short time he had.
"Scan for rogue signature," he commanded. He hadn't meant to say it aloud, didn't need to, but his nerves were strung tight. The success of his plan was in the balance. Everything he had set in motion over the last two days depended on what happened next.
His Familiar put a hand to its chin and started tapping its foot. This was its 'stand by' pose. If David had been the kind of person who engaged in minor superstitions, he might have crossed his fingers. Instead he slowed his breath, and mentally prepared himself for whatever his Familiar might find. The wait was only a matter of seconds, but with this much on the line, even that seemed an excruciating time.
A smile finally broke on his Familiar's face and it spun a few happy pirouettes.
'Stop doing that!' David thought. 'What did you find?'
His Familiar beat its tiny hands together, in the universal gesture for 'job done'; then took a triumphant pose, hand on hips, chin thrust up and chest out.
This made David relax. It meant 101's signature was not in the signal. It wasn't here. And it wasn't communicating with whoever was here.
101's sights were set elsewhere. Just as he had planned.
And it was all thanks to Tamara's throwaway comment.
'It depends on what you feed it."
"They didn't call her the Wiz Kid for nothing," he said aloud.
The sense memory of her body against his flashed unexpectedly into his mind, and he felt himself stirring at the recollection. To be with her again… to lay with her again.
His avatar suddenly cocked its little head to the side; as if it might be wondering how to respond to this randy train of thought. But David quickly pushed the memory away before the little Familiar started searching for porn streams.
'Ignore that,' he commanded. 'Scan the area for any analog surveillance. We're landing.'
As David began to descend, Amanda's staggering revelation from the night before, came to his mind. But he had to push that thought away. It stirred too many strong emotions, distracting emotions. He couldn't afford distractions. And, he had to admit, he still didn't know what to do about it.
"Too much too soon," he whispered to himself.
It was like the question he'd seen in Tamara's eyes three days ago, the night he'd installed his implants, as they'd been hovering outside the Cybertronics parking bay, waiting for clearance to enter.
2
"What is happening to you?"
David didn't register Tamara's words at first; he was fully occupied with the new information streaming into his mind's eye: codes zipping to and fro on the control console of his Strocruiser; virtual ports popping up and disappearing as fast as the data they sought had been acquired. He heard the soft digital whispers of traversing data; saw encryption keys being logged and deciphered as the Cybertronics security system tried to figure out who was trying to gain access to the building.
'It doesn't recognize me,' he realized.
"What?" he said aloud, when he finally understood that Tamara had asked him a question.
But, before she could respond, a voice came through the speakers.
"Identify yourself," it said. It was Ariel.
'I was right,' David thought, 'the system doesn't recognize my banner.'
"It's me, Ariel," he replied. "It's David. And I've got Tamara with me."
There was a short silence. Then:
"I'm sorry David, but Jenna West has imposed a security lockdown and, for some reason, your craft's banner is flagging as an unknown. It seems to have been corrupted, or…"
Ariel paused a moment, his voice displaying an uncharacteristic hesitation.
" Or perhaps it's…"
The Mecha paused again, seeming to be confused. This would ordinarily make David chuckle, since he so enjoyed razzing the machine. But it was no time for pranking, and there was nothing funny in the situation.
"I'm not sure what to make of this," Ariel finally admitted. "I'm going to scan you for infection. Hold your position."
Tamara chose this moment to speak, her voice coming in a whisper, as if she was afraid of being overheard.
"Your Familiar looks like a virus to them," she said. "And that's not because it's cracked software. It's because what it's doing is not normal. None of this is."
David finally looked at her face and saw a question in her eyes; the golden brown eyes that had burned their way in his heart. He didn't respond; couldn't respond, because he really didn't know what to say. She was right. It wasn't normal. But nothing in his life had ever been so.
She continued louder, in a voice alternating between suspicion and concern.
"It's one thing for you to see virtual artifacts," she said. "But how did you turn on the engine back there? You didn't even navigate on the way here. I didn't see you input any of your clearance codes, yet they were received. Familiars don't usually do all that, David. Not by themselves. What the hell did that man put in your head?"
David started to answer but Ariel's voice interrupted again.
"Your ship is clean, David. But I've detected unidentified software operating in…Well, it's not really inside your craft, but seems to be… I don't know how to say this, but it's everywhere... David, has anything unusual been…"
It was Ariel's turn to be interrupted as a new voice came though. His Creator's voice.
"I'll handle this, Ariel," Hobby said. "David, I'm overriding security. Enter the port, but wait in the parking bay… please. Both of you. We need to talk before you come inside the building."
The line closed and the bay doors ahead of them started to slowly open.
Tamara sighed.
"You were right," she said. "He obviously knows what you did, so your friend must have called and told him. But, the question is, how could you have known that?"
"I heard them talking," David admitted. "On the roof, when we were sitting by the dish array. I heard their voices… and others. I could hear them all."
Tamara guffawed, but not because she found it funny.
"Well that deserves a big W-T-F," she said. "You're a damned newbie. You've had your implants for aq couple hours and you're already snooping on voice calls without even trying? That is some high level classified NSA shit there, David. It's not even legal for us civvies."
"I don't know how or why it's happeing, Wizzy," David replied, impatiently. "So don't ask me. Not now. Feed the good wolf, remember? Whatever this is, whatever is happening to me, it gives us an advantage over 101. And I'm going to use it… for as long as I can."
Tamara pressed back into her seat and ran her fingers through her silky black curls. Her face was unreadable, but David knew what she was thinking:
'How long is 'as long as you can'… and what comes after?'
"You're changing," she said, speaking so softly that she seemed to be talking to herself. "This thing is already changing you."
'But into what?' was the unspoken question David saw in her eyes.
3
13:43 and 07 seconds…
…08 – 09 – 10 - 11…
It was quiet. Too quiet. Not even birdsong could be heard in the trees surrounding the small clearing where he'd landed. But autumn was in the air, and the leaves were already browning. Perhaps this was the reason for the pervasive silence?
David fought the sudden urge to have his Familiar look up the migratory behavior of northeastern nesting birds, and crawled from the Stratocruiser.
The breeze was chilled, and filled with the smell of the changing season. Ironic, he thought, that this clean scent announced the pending of death of the natural world around him. The greenery would die, leaving the ground covered in a cloak of golden leaves. Hibernating animals would retreat into their dens to await the season of rebirth. Then would come the freeze, and all of it would be submerged beneath a layer of frozen white.
The eternal cycle. Life. Death. Rebirth. Ad infinitum.
"Focus," he whispered.
And that's when he first heard it.
A sound that seemed like a voice. Soft and light. So faint that birdsong might have eclipsed it. If not for the peculiar quiet that lay on this place he might not have heard it at all.
"He's here," it seemed to say.
The words, if they really were words, seemed to have come from the direction of the dilapidated houses that lay beyond an field of overgrown weeds in the field surrounding the old storage house which now served as a gathering spot for the young Crash Jammers. Johnson's Army. Club 101.
Yes. He was here again.
David shielded his eyes from the sun and set his gaze on the shadows that lay between the distant houses. He thought he saw a hint of movement but wasn't sure. He waited for a time, but the strange voice did not come again.
Maybe it was his imagination. Anxiety.
For all his new abilities, David could not magnify his vision, as he had been able to in his Mecha youth. It was time to wake his small assistant.
He sent a beckoning thought and then heard rustling from the storage compartment of his Stratocruiser. A moment later his modified 500 crawled from the craft and walked to his side.
His small Mecha sibling was clad in form-fitting protective black clothing. It looked like one of Mario's gags; a little baby-faced security bot. It stared up at David expectantly, a non-committal default smile on its cherubic features.
After a moment the boybot turned and began walking towards the houses that lay beyond the overgrown field.
Nether had a spoken a word.
There was no need to.
They were communicating in a language beyond the scope of human senses.
4
Hobby had been pacing back and forth, nervous eyes fixed on David and Tamara as the two crawled from the Stratocruiser. It was obvious the man had not rested since David had last seen him. What little hair he had left was still tousled, and he'd obviously not changed his clothing. David felt a twinge of guilt knowing he was probably the reason for the man's insomnia.
Ariel and Grace stood alongside him, arms crossed, looking like sentries ready to block David and Tamara's entry.
When the whine of the thrusters was finally quiet, Hobby spoke.
"Did you take out one of the 500 prototypes?" he said. His words came slowly, a tone of disbelief in his voice which reverberated in the large parking bay
David shrugged.
"It was necessary," he replied.
"I never agreed to that," Hobby said, accusation in his voice.
"The 500 is fine," David replied. "It's on standby, in the back. I've done a few modifications, but nothing that can't be undone."
"Do you have any idea how expensive those are?" Hobby said.
"Are you seriously asking me that?" David shot back.
Hobby seemed lost for words, perhaps realizing how ridiculous he sounded. He paused, as if he was trying to arrange his thoughts.
"I received a peculiar call tonight," he said. "It was your scavenger friend. The one you call Skipper."
"I know," David replied quickly.
Hobby hesitated as if he was about to ask how David could know that. But then he went on, as if David had never spoken.
"I was told," the man said, slowly, "that you had just undergone an illegal surgical procedure…" Hobby stopped and raised a finger for emphasis as he repeated the words "illegal - surgical – procedure…. to have some black market implants installed in your scalp…?"
Hobby concluded in an incredulous tone. Then he fell quiet, his hands held out before him, fingers curled as if to catch and crush whatever lie David was about to tell..
David realized that he hadn't thought this through very well; hadn't considered what Hobby's reaction would be. Nor had he thought about how Grace would feel. She sure didn't look happy about it. And he didn't even want to glance in Ariel's direction. There was no telling what kind of digital artifacts he might see floating around the Mecha's head.
He chewed his lip, feeling like a little kid who'd been caught in the cookie jar… although he'd never really been a kid, and had never even seen a cookie jar.
"Gray market,' he said, finally breaking the excruciating silence.
"What?" Hobby blurted.
"They're not really black market," David explained quickly. "They're cracks of manufacturer originals, So technically…."
"This is no time for jokes!" Grace interrupted angrily. "You've made a major change in your anatomy without even consulting…" But she stopped herself, perhaps also realizing how her words sounded.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Hobby took over for her, slapping his forehead. "Do you have any idea what going on out there; how this could make you vulnerable? Who did the surgery? Were they licensed?"
David felt a pile-on coming. Even Ariel chimed in.
"We're on a security lockdown, David" the Mecha said, trying to take a reasonable tone. "This was a very bad time to install unrecognized software."
Hobby shot Ariel an incredulous look.
"There is never a good time to get implants," he yelled, seeming mystified by the Mecha's response. "You know my stance on that!"
"Is it too late to remove them?" Grace wondered aloud.
"He never should have put them in!" Hobby yelled.
"To be fair, sir," Ariel interjected, "The implants only make David as vulnerable to attack as an average Mecha."
"My point exactly!" Hobby roared.
"Shut up!"
Tamara's voice echoed through the large parking bay. Everybody's eyes were instantly on her.
"Please, just shut the hell up!" she said, hands pressed to her temples, eyes burning on Hobby. "He did this for you, to protect this weird-ass play-time dollhouse you got going on here."
She stepped in front of David, as if to shield him from the judgement in their eyes.
"You think he would'a done this if that crazy rogue - the one that you built, need I remind you? - wasn't out there scheming up who knows what? No! He believes this gives him an advantage. And even if I do think he's out of his dammed mind, I'm gonna back his play! Because this is war. Right? And we're on the same side. Right?"
They were all taken aback by her outburst. But only for a moment.
"I admire your loyalty, young lady," Hobby replied coolly, "But there is too much you don't know about this situation, to be involved in this debate. Perhaps you should just wait in the-"
"She knows," David interrupted.
Hobby stopped and cast a cautious look at him. Grace took an involuntary step back, her arms wrapped protectively around her body.
"You… you told her?" Hobby said, eyes darting back and forth between the teenagers. "I mean, about…"
"The Miracle?" Grace finished for him.
David smiled a confirmation.
"She knows everything," he said, as he stepped up behind Tamara and wrapped her in his arms. She grasped the hands he held on her shoulders and smiled a triumphant look on the two adults. David kissed her on the cheek and squeezed her tightly, making clear the nature of their relationship.
"At this point, Tamara knows more than any of you," he said. "And if you'll just do as she suggested, and 'shut the hell up', I'll be more than willing to alleviate your ignorance in these matters."
Hobby was lost for words again, his mouth hanging open as if a response was caught in his throat. He was about to say something when the pod in his jacket pocket suddenly chirped. He swore something about interruptions as he pulled the pod from his pocket, and seemed to be about to cancel the call.
"You should take that," David said, quickly. "It's Jenna West."
Hobby stopped himself and checked the ID on his pod.. Then he watched David with a new caution in his eyes, as he tapped the pod to accept the call.
"Jenna?" he said. He was quiet as he listened, gazing at David all the while. "Of course. Umm… give me a moment."
Hobby muted his pod, his eyes still suspicious on David.
"How did you know?" he said.
David shrugged.
"Can't say….yet," he replied. "But, I would appreciate it if you'd ask her to come here as soon as possible. There are things we need to talk about in person. And be careful what you two discuss. Something is listening."
5
14:01 and 36 seconds…
… 37 - 38 – 39 – 40…
The rhythmic metallic clink-clink-clink of snap hooks beating against a flagless flagpole. Scraps of paper tossed about in the breeze. Discarded clothing and littered paper cups caught in brambles of overgrown brush that engulfed the aged fencing that hugged the beaten dirt pathways between dilapidated houses. But no footprints on those paths.
Then again, a sound… a whisper?
'Stop,' David thought.
The 500 halted in its tracks.
It was scouting 50 yards ahead. David had logged his Familiar into its processor and so could see everything through its digital eyes. Hear everything through it aural processor.
He'd heard the strange whispers twice more on the walk to the deserted housing complex. But they had been so faint David could still not be sure they'd even been real. But he was certain there was an answer here, something that would help him take down 101.
A sound came suddenly from behind the 500.
David turned the bot's head to see a shape in the space between two of the abandoned houses. There was someone there, standing in the shadows; a thin, bent shape that was making its way slowly, limping it seemed, towards the place where the 500 stood.
David amplified the bots audio and heard raspy breathing. And muttering. He couldn't make out the words but it was clearly a man's voice.
The shape stopped suddenly, as if whoever it was had finally noticed the bot standing in the pathway ahead. What must he think, David wondered, at the sight of a strange boy standing in this deserted housing project?
Was this dark figure the source of the whispers he'd thought he'd been hearing?
"What the hell you doin' out here?" the man said, in a voice that was weary and cloaked from phlegm.
David didn't respond, just watched cautiously through the bots eyes as the man stepped out of the shadows, hands cupping his forehead to shield his face from the sunlight. He was thin and malnourished, clad in a filthy jeans and a soiled plaid shirt that hung on his skinny shoulders like drapes; had a teenager's face but an old man's eyes. The wild matt of dirty red hair on his head looked like a small animal trying to escape.
A wirehead, David realized. This wasn't his whisperer. Probably just waking up from days of juicing his brains on current. As he watched the broken man approach David was grateful the 500 didn't have any olfactory interpreters.
"You stay with them kids from that house, don't ya?" the man said as he approached. "I seen ya'll coming and going at night. But never seen ya out in the day. Ya'll ok?"
David's interest was piqued. He turned the bot, so it was facing the man, but still did not reply.
The man finally stopped a few feet away and wiped his nose on a soiled shirt sleeve.
"You look like you being taken care of," he said. Then his face lit up "Hey… you kids got anything to eat? Candy? Anything? I been a little out of sorts a few days. Anything you can spare would be greatly appreciated."
David felt a pang of sympathy for the addict, but had more important concerns.
"You've seen children here?" he thought.
A moment later the 500 repeated the words with the inflection he had thought them.
The man seemed confused by the question.
"Have I what? Well, I thought you was…" The man suddenly stopped talking and began to hesitantly scrutinize the 500.
"That's a funny costume," he said, with a nervous chuckle. "Somebody making a movie out here or sumthin? You look like a little spy from some kids flick. Or maybe you're one of them junior scout cops, or somethin'"
The man started backing away as he spoke, scanning the area as if he thought they were being watched.
"Where did you see the children?" David thought.
When the 500 repeated the words, the man realized his mistake and started stepping back into the shadows, glancing over his shoulder as he went. David made the 500 follow. It wasn't hard keeping up with his slow limping gait.
"Those kids are in danger!" David made the 500 say the words forcefully.
The man glanced over his shoulder again and then broke into a sprint. But he was so weak that he fell to the ground a short distance later. He lay there, coughing and trembling from the effects of his malnourishment, as David guided the 500 towards him.
"I din see nuthin!" the man said, his voice full of fear. "I promise!"
David felt another surge of sympathy. The wire was a merciless addiction. He found himself wondering who the man had been before all this, and what he might have become if his mind had not been overpowered by the forced ecstasy of the current.
"What's your name?" David made the bot ask in a gentle voice.
The man calmed down. His breath slowed and he looked on the bot with an expression of resignation, as if he actually thought it might be some type of little authority figure. It was an irrational frame of mind that David would have to use to his advantage.
"Andrew," the said, reluctantly. "People call me Andy."
David opened up a secondary port in his mind as he mentally guided the 500 into a kneeling position beside Andrew. He made the bot take on a sympathetic look as he sent new words for it to say.
"Ok, Andy," the bot said a few seconds later. "I can see you're having a difficult time and I have been authorized to order you something to eat. I want you to tell me what you want, and where to deliver it, ok?"
A look of surprise came into Andrew's prematurely haggard face. He tried to sit up but fell back on his elbows. He stayed that way a minute, panting, before he finally replied.
"Really," he said. "I mean…for true? You ain't bullshitting?"
"Yes, for true," David thought, sending the words to the 500. "But in exchange I want you to tell me when you saw the children. How many. And where. Fair enough?"
"Hells to the yeah!" Andrew said, wiping spittle from his mouth. "How much food can I get?"
"Whatever you want, as much as you want."
As David sent the words to the bot, he logged his Familiar into a site for a take-out restaurant just a few miles away.
But first you tell me what I need to know."
Andrew didn't hesitate.
"See 'em all the time. Two of 'em," he said. Then he raised his skinny arm and pointed a trembling finger. "They stay in that place there, where all those CJ kids used to hang out."
David followed Andrew's gesture to see that he was pointing at a house just down the road, one that looked like something out of a 20th century horror film. It was the house Myron had led him to on that fateful night; and where Animal had introduced him to insane conspiracy world of the Trinary Directive.
He magnified the 500's gaze and saw that the porch was covered in a layer of undisturbed dust and fallen leaves. Much of it had amassed at the foot of the front door, which was bolted shut.
"Nobody has gone through that door in a long time," David made the bot say, in a skeptical tone.
"They use the back way," Andrew replied. "Sneaking around like they don't want nobody to see 'em. But I did. And you know what…?"
David made the 500 look at Andrew again. He could see that the man had scooted closer, as if he was worried someone might overhear what he was about to say. He continued in a stage whisper.
"Look, kid… or Officer… or whoever you are, I don't wanna get nobody in trouble, but I think they might be, you know… illegal. Or unsanctioned, whatever it's called."
"Why do you say that," the bot asked at David's command.
"Well," Andrew replied, "Riding the wire has messed up my head pretty bad, as I'm sure you can tell. But it never made me see double. And if I ain't seeing double… then those kids are twins."
6
"Twins?"
Hobby had repeated the word thoughtfully as he chewed on the idea.
"Yes," David confirmed. "I considered telling you earlier, but I just didn't know what to make of it. Still don't. But I am sure it's at the center of 101's plan…. whatever it is. "
They were standing at the bay window in David's room. Outside the window shone a beautiful day, a clear sky and brisk salty breeze that occasionally blew in and washed over them. But inside, dark subjects were being discussed.
David had chosen this location for the conversation, not only because he wanted to keep this data limited to as few people as possible - lest one of the rogues spies get word - but also because the building was so full of digital noise he became distracted.
It had taken him all night to learn how to keep digital login interfaces from popping up in his line of vision each time he passed some piece of machinery. Not to mention the constant whispers of the service Mecha going about their maintenance duties, and the security system logging and scanning all incoming communications. David had barely been able to sleep. And when he did finally manage to drift off, he'd been quickly awakened by electronic chatter. He had finally beckoned his familiar and told it to mute everything. That had seemed to work.
The attacks were still coming; still being masked as malfunctions. People were waking to find their houses had been trashed when Mecha maids had inexplicably gone into alert mode while their owners had slept. Maintenance bots were destroying the infrastructure they'd been built to maintain. Most of government institutions were on emergency lockdown as the Mayor had issued an order for all service bots be temporarily shut down and undergo scanning before being put back to work.
The crisis was growing and David had decided it was time to share what he knew, and what Tamara had told him, about the twins.
She was sitting on the couch, watching them both with a dour expression on her face.
Jenna West was on her way, but had other things to deal with, and Hobby would have to fill her in when she arrived.
"Well, I can't put it together either," Hobby admitted after a time. "How would it even acquire twins?"
"That's what we need to find out," David replied. "Tamara gave me an idea how we can."
Hobby acknowledged Tamara with an approving nod. But she only shrugged.
"I don't even know what I said," she replied.
"I'll explain," David said. And he did.
Hobby had listened intently, stopping David now and then to clarify some minor point in his hastily constructed plan. But after a few questions he warmed to the idea.
"That could work," the man said. "But we'll have to proceed carefully."
"And secretly," David added, emphasizing the point with a zipping gesture over his lips.
He'd glanced at Tamara then, hoping she would catch the innuendo in his words. He had not shared her dramatic revelation about the death of her father. Hobby had seemed to sense something was off about the whole tale, but he'd let the subject go after some quick misdirection from David.
What happened to Sy wasn't her fault, he had decided. And he was determined to protect her role in this whole ugly affair.
And there was someone else who required his protection. After his explanation of the twins and his plan to take on 101, David broached this subject too.
"Where is Monica?" he asked.
"Safe with her family," Hobby answered. "Where she belongs."
There was something adamant in his tone and David had started to protest, that maybe she'd be better off in some secured location. He was not certain how much 101 knew about his former life, and his connection to Monica could make her a target. But he sensed that now was not the time for this fight.
"You'll have to bring Jenna here to fill her in on the details," David had concluded. "It won't be safe over your pod."
Hobby had agreed and left the room to put things in motion.
The rest of the day had passed like a blur. As David went about preparing his plan, he was surprised to find how quickly he had adapted to his Familiar. But then, it wasn't really new to him, was it? Having this intimate connection with the digital world was like going back to the way things had been before.
Amanda, however, wasn't shy about voicing her opinion on the matter. She had stated her objections clearly when she came to his room that night.
David was on his couch, making some adjustments on the 500 to make it more compatible with his new Familiar software. Tamara was sitting at David's computer, sending out unencrypted emails in the first stage of their plan.
Amanda had entered, looking like she'd just risen from bed. The lockdown had obviously affected her sense of fashion. The three exchanged muted greetings and Amanda scanned them wordlessly for a time before she clucked her tongue and walked to David's side.
"So, it true," she said, after inspecting the plugs in his head. "When did you decide to become a trendy?"
"Trendy?" David asked, distractedly as he brought up his Familiar to alter the access codes in the 500's processor.
"The implants," Amada clarified. "What're gonna do when they go out of fashion?"
Tamara let out an involuntary laugh.
"That's not why got them," she said.
Amanda finally noticed what the other girl was doing and crossed the room to stand behind her.
"Are you crazy?" she said, her tone chastising. "Aren't we on a communications lockdown?"
Tamara leaned to the side to block Amanda's view of the screen.
"This is need-to-know only, and you don't need - to - know," she retorted, emphasizing the words in a way she knew would irritate the other girl.
But Amanda was not taking the bait
"And I don't need to care," she said, dismissively. "I'm sure Jenna will rip you a new one when she hears about it."
"I thought you two made a truce," David said, hoping to quell the growing confrontation.
It had been decided that Amanda's closeness to Martin would make her a security risk in this venture. But excluding her completely would cause unnecessary tension. So as long as she wasn't aware of the details of what they were doing, David felt safe having her around.
"I come in peace," Amanda replied in mock merriness. Then she pulled out her pod and began tapping the keys as she crossed the room towards David.
"I'm fully aware that I've become a third wheel in this strange entanglement," she said, typing as she walked slowly across the room. "What; with you two keeping me out of the loop on your major life decisions, like sticking implants in your dumb head and all, as if you were some hipster wanna-be."
Tamara emitted a loud moan, but carried on with her task.
"But still," Amanda continued, "I am genuinely curious to see what you look like."
David was too preoccupied to notice what she was doing. But he did take note of the little ballerina that suddenly popped into his field of vision. He watched, confused, as the tiny dancer spun a few graceful pirouettes. Then he understood.
"Is that you?" he said, irritated. "Stop it!"
"OMG!" Amanda blurted. "Why would you choose that? Don't you ever get tired of these brat bots?"
David turned to see her looking at him with a pained expression. Then he saw his avatar floating above her pod.
"Mandy," David sighed, "How'd you…?"
"Oh, so you didn't know about this little app, eh?" she chuckled. "It's called 'EyeSeeU'. It's a snooper. Has the ability to summon all avatars connected to the same signal, even if they're blocked. Pretty neat, eh?"
David couldn't explain to her that he had not chosen that avatar, that it had come, unbidden, from his subconscious. Because that was not natural, and he didn't want to initiate any unanswerable questions. Instead he focused his attention inward, looking for the function he had found earlier, while perusing his new software.
A few seconds later the avatar floating over Amanda's pod changed from his 'David' into her own Ballerina.
"And that's called Mirror Mask," he said, triumphantly.
"Hmm," Amanda hummed. "Well, that's impressive. But it only works if I don't already know who you are. So, as I was asking, what's with the boybot avatar? Why not the teddy bear?"
Tamara slapped her palms loudly on the desk.
"How'd you like to help out here?" she said.
David shot her a cautious look, but she waved it off. Amanda's eyes were flitting back and forth between them, as she tried to figure out the dynamics of the situation.
"Whatever shall I do?" she replied in exaggerated curiosity.
"All you gotta do is send some emails," Tamara replied. "Unprotected, and unencrypted… to everybody on your mailing list."
Amanda cocked her head to the side, staring at Tamara as if she was waiting for a punchline.
"Yes, I'm serious, and no you won't get in trouble with security," Tamara explained. "I'll let them know you're in with us."
"In on what?" Amanda said, suspiciously.
"That's need to know only," Tamara replied "And you-"
"- don't need to know," Amanda finished for her. "I get the message."
"Look, it's simple," Tamara continued. "It's not gonna put any of your friends in danger, and I'll tell you what to say. So, you in? Or you wanna just keep playing the damn pest all day?"
A silent staring contest ensued. Amanda finally conceded, tucking her pod into her pocket and crossing her arms.
"Intrigued, I admit," she said. "Go on."
7
14:17 and 17 seconds…
…18 - 19 – 20 – 21…
There was no visible entrance. Large branches from the great tree that loomed over the old house, had fallen over the decades, leaving the entire yard buried beneath a thick canopy of fallen wood. But when David magnified the 500s view he could see tiny tracks in the dirt, trailing towards a small opening in the cluster of brambles.
The sad wirehead had not been lying. Somebody was staying here. But were they here now?
David listened for a time, but the peculiar whisper did not come again. Perhaps he had just been hearing remnant digital chatter.
He set the 500 to standby and sat for a time, thinking. Should go into house himself? It was an expensive gamble to send the 500. The bot had no protection. Even if he had given it the neutralizer he carried, it would not have been able to use the device. The boybot would not be able to harm a human if it was attacked. Even his presence in its head would not allow it to break that hardcoded Asmovian restraints.
Perhaps he should have overridden those limitations when he was preparing the 500 for this task. It would have been difficult, yes - not to mention, illegal - but not impossible. Too late now, to worry about his oversight.
The tracks he'd seen were small, obviously made by children, and the opening that presumably led to a doorway, was too small for an adult to crawl though. So, assuming anyone inside the house would be children, the 500 would probably be safe.
David was only 50 yards away, hiding behind a brush covered fence. Andrew, the wirehead, had passed right by without even noticing, as he'd made his the way towards the place they agreed upon for the delivery of his reward.
And, beside the occasional burst coming from Club 101, about a half mile away, David had heard no other digital signals or felt the prescience of no Mecha.
No time for dallying, he decided. He focused his attention and started moving the 500 into the rubble strewn back yard, and towards the hole in the brush that led to the house.
8
A man jumped from a gang of people that were crammed into the bed of a junk hauler, and began chasing a fleeing service Mecha. Other people from the hauler jumped out and joined the pursuit. The bot had not been designed to run, and so had tried to escape the mob in a quick, stumbling gait, which was all it was capable of, and not fast enough.
Its head exploded into flashes of electric fire when the large bolt plyers the man was swinging, smashed into its skull. The mob quickly descended on fallen bot and began kicking and stomping its limp body.
Someone could be heard laughing off-screen, presumably the one who was filming the event. It was a young voice, full of a dark and savage mirth.
As the camera panned away, to focus on another assault that was happening further up the road, the frame shrank into the corner on the right of the screen, and a commentator appeared on the left.
"Damn," David said. "This is exactly what 101 wants. To start a - "
"Shhhh!" Amanda interrupted. "Us 'normal' people don't have news feeds implanted in our brain, so we have to watch the streams. Be quiet."
Tamara chuckled and leaned across the couch to offer an outstretched palm. Amanda reached back to slap it, and they resumed watching.
David rolled his eyes at the two girls, and sat on the couch to watch the monitor with them. He already knew of the events, of course; had been alerted to the police reports by his Familiar. But he hadn't seen the media coverage yet.
The commentator was a slim, bespectacled dark-haired woman. She watched the violence on the video thoughtfully for a moment, before she breathed a weary sigh and turned to face the camera. She spoke in the halting tone of a disappointed school teacher.
"This video was just uploaded to a site operated by violent group of anti-Mecha extremists known as 'Crash Jammers'. It depicts, as you can see, an angry mob attacking a group of Service Bots. Now, I want to make it clear that these bots were no immediate threat. They were actually returning from the mandated scan our Mayor has imposed for the strange virus that has caused many household Mecha to malfunction in recent days. Those of you who have been following the story know these malfunctions have created property destruction, severe in many cases; and even, in a few unfortunate instances: death."
The commentator leaned forward on her elbows and looked hard into the camera.
"She's being rather dramatic for a newscaster," David said.
"Shhhh!"
"There are many things that are still unknown about the source of the Alert Virus, as it has been labeled, since it seemed to initiate the self-defense function installed in all Mecha… But the sad truth is, the Service Bots in this video, some of them very expensive models, I should add… Well, they had all been certified as clean in the mandated test by the Licensing Authority. No bugs. No spyware. No sign of the Alert Virus which has become such a serious problem in recent days. "
"It's not just the Alert function," David pointed out. "It's affecting the entire array of motivational adaptors in the-"
"What part of 'shhh' did you not understand," Amanda said.
"Now, I assume many of you have already heard of Crash Jammers. You might even know someone who is part of this group. Maybe even someone close to you, a family member, perhaps. The movement has gained a lot of popularity in recent years, so I am sure I don't need to explain who they are, or some of the peculiar conspiracy theories they adhere to."
The announcer paused again, looking down as if she was reading something.
"Ok, now she's just hamming it up," David said. "This is all on a prompter. She doesn't need to-"
"Will you STFU!" Amamda cried.
"One more word, Pork Chop," Tamara said, waving a fist in his direction.
David leaned back and sighed.
"Women," he said. They both cast him a dark look, but neither responded.
The commentator adjusted her glasses before she continued.
"Well, this particular branch of the group call themselves 'Johnson's Army'; a not-so-subtle reference to the controversial activist and entertainer, 'Lord Johnson Johnson', whose travelling circus of carnage, known as 'The Flesh Fair' or 'Festival Of Life', came to a close many years ago after an unexplained riot broke out at one of the events. Johnson disappeared soon after that, and has not been seen since. Some say he moved back to his native Ireland, and has taken on a new identity. Some believe he is dead; a victim of some government conspiracy to silence vocal enemies of the 'Mecha controlled State', as they call it. But , as testified by this video, Lord Johnson Johnson's influence has not waned since the fall of his empire and his mysterious departure."
The commentator paused and looked down again. David decided not to say anything this time.
"Now, authorities are looking into this video, hoping to identify the perpetrators. But, the thing is… and here is the sad truth behind this story …. these are not Crash Jammers. That's right. The people in this video – the mob in this video - seen here attacking and smashing robots that someone paid good money for and, as I pointed out, had already been through mandated scans and been determined clean… these people are not actually part of any anti-Mecha movement. At least not in any official capacity. No. These are just people from the area. Your friends and neighbors, sent into a frenzy of violence and destruction of property incited by fear and the online propaganda generated by extremist groups who claim to be inspired by a man nobody has seen for years, but whose only true goal seems to be just anarchy. Pure and simple chaos."
"Well, she got that one right," David said. "Though not for the reason she thinks."
He was surprised that neither of the girls shushed him. He was further surprised when Tamara muted the audio and leaned towards him with a strange look of concern in her eyes.
"What?" David said.
Amanda was about to complain about the muting, but then saw the look on Tamara's face too.
"Yeah, what?" she said, turning to join in the conversation.
"Do you think…" Tamara paused there, seeming to be lost in thought for a moment. "I mean… is it possible that we might have done something to incite this?"
David sat up, tilting his head in curiosity; signaling her to continue.
"We may not have considered all the … ramifications," she said, coyly.
Amanda looked back and forth between them.
"What'd you two do?" she said.
Tamara cocked an eyebrow at Amanda.
"When I say 'we', I mean all of us, Mandy-girl" she said.
David finally understood.
"You mean… by feeding the bad wolf," he said. Tamara's brow wrinkled in confirmation. David put his hands to his forehead and became lost in thought.
"I can't see the connection," he said. "This was bound to happen eventually. Chaos is what 101 wants. It a means to an end."
"What are you talking about?" Amanda said, annoyed. "You mean the emails we sent yesterday? Is that it?"
"Mandy," David started, "Uh… can me and Wizzy talk alone just for a min-"
"No!" Amanda screamed. "Look, you asked me to help out, and I did!"
"I was just tired of you being a pest," Tamara retorted.
Amanda ignored the shot.
"You said nobody was gonna be hurt, and now we see this crazy ass CJ video, and then you say we had something to do with it?"
"I said we 'might' have," Tamara corrected.
Amanda was not impressed by the correction. She took her wolflette pose, set her hands on her hips and flipped her single unadorned braid over her shoulder.
"I'm tired of this horsepucky," she said.
"Horsepucky?" Tamara made a face as if repeating the word caused her pain.
"Bullshit, ok?" Amanda clarified. "I'm so freekin tired of being left out of the loop around here. I'm stuck in this place while you and Wonder Woman go traipsing off to save the world. I can't go anywhere. Can't see any of my friends. All thanks to some stupid war we're having with some crazy damned robot, which, by the way, nobody will explain to me either!"
David sighed.
"That's what we're trying to solve, Mandy," he said. "There's just…"
"Just what?"
"Just… some things it would be better that you not know… for now."
"That's not good enough, Mister," Amanda said. The flat tone of her voice let David know she was serious.
"I am not a child," she continued, "I am not some fragile little leaf caught in the wind. I can deal with anything Wonder woman here can deal with, and-"
"Stop calling me that," Wizzy moaned. Amanda ignored her.
"…and I can sure handle whatever she can, because I have been through some rough shit too!"
"It's because of Martin," Tamara said.
"Wizzy!" David hissed. But it was too late.
"Martin?" Amanda said, suspiciously. "What about him?"
David glared at Tamara. She glared back at him for a second, and then looked away with a shrug.
"What – about – Martin?" Amanda repeated, punctuating each word like the thrust of a dagger.
David hissed between clenched jaws.
"This operation will be finished tomorrow," he replied, in a slow deliberate voice he hoped with impose his authority. "At that time… assuming I'm successful, I will happily fill you in on all the-"
"You will fill me in on whatever it is now, happily or not!" Amanda interrupted. "I will not play little Miss Go-Along-To-Get-Along anymore. Can't tell my friends what's going down. Can't tell Alan you two took the 500, even though he found out anyway. Can't talk about the damned statue! Can't tell anybody about…"
Amanda stopped suddenly, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, before she covered it with both hands.
"Statue?" David said, his eyes hard on her.
"Oh shit," she replied, her voice muffled behind her hands.
"Statue?" Tamara repeated, curiously.
"What statue," David said.
Amanda didn't respond, just stood there with her mouth covered, shifting her weight from foot to foot, as if she suddenly had to pee.
"Mandy!" David growled. The coldness in his tone made Amanda jump and caused Tamara to cast him a troubled glance.
"Ummm…" Amanda started. She finally uncovered her mouth and cast her gaze guiltily towards the floor.
"I, uh… I wasn't supposed to…" She stopped again, thinking. Then her mood changed. She raised her head to look David square in the eyes. There was a confidence about her now.
"Qui-pro-quo," she said. "You tell me about Martin, and I tell you about… the thing."
"Statue," David clarified.
"Yeah, that," she said. "You go first."
Tamara sat back and spread her arms out like she was getting comfortable to watch a show.
"This should be interesting," she said.
David fumed silently for a minute. Then he sighed in surrender.
"Fine," he said. "We didn't want you knowing what we were up to because Martin might be involved, and we didn't trust you to keep a secret."
"Why didn't you think I could keep…" Amanda stopped herself and grinned sheepishly. "Oh yeah. Statue. Fair enough." She gestured for David to continue.
"Those spiders are not being used to spy," David explained. "They're being used to infect Mecha with a Trojan that lets 101 send commands whenever it wants to. We think Martin might have been involved in acquiring them in the first place. Maybe not directly for 101, but for a petty gangster named Olmier who I'm sure is involved in the game somehow."
"'We' think?" she said. "You said 'we' think Martin is involved. Who? You and Wonder Wo…" she stopped herself and cast an apologetic look on Tamara. "…Wizzy?"
"Alan feels the same way," David clarified.
Amanda looked at him oddly.
"When did you start calling your Dad 'Alan'?" she said.
David almost blurted the truth, that Hobby wasn't his father, but caught himself. He decided to ignore the question.
"We decided that you were too close to Martin; might slip up and say something that he could bring back to 101, intentionally or not. What we have planned requires absolute secrecy. So, anyway… that's why we kept you out of the loop."
Amanda fell quiet as she digested this. After a time she seemed to shrug it off.
"I can see that," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "So what's with the emails?"
"Distracting Sauron's eye," David replied.
"I am sure some nerd would get that reference," Amanda sighed.
"We were misleading the rogue," David explained.
"Yeah, by feeding it 'horsepucky'," Tamara added with a chuckle.
Amanda raised an offensive finger in her direction.
"It's been watching everything," David continued. "It's monitoring all our communications, even this very minute. I can actually see its signature."
Amanda screwed her face up.
"How can you… Oh right," she said. "Implants."
"Yeah," David confirmed. "The night I got them, Wizzy said something that made me think of a way around 101's scrutiny."
"You have got to stop giving me credit for that," Tamara sighed.
"Well, you did say it," David pointed out.
"Say what?" Amanda asked.
"There's an old native American parable about two wolves in a fight," David explained. "One is good and the other is-"
"Heard it," Amanda said, impatiently. "Which one wins, the one you feed, blah-blah-blah. Get on with it."
"Well," David continued. "Wizzy said the wolf that wins isn't the one you feed, it's the one you nourish. Get it? I know she was just making a joke, but it made me realize that– "
"Jeeeeezzz" Tamara interrupted with a groan. "You just love taking the long road home, don't you?" She turned to Amanda. "We spent the last two days feeding 101 bullshit information, making it think we have something planned tomorrow."
"But… you do have something planned tomorrow," Amanda pointed out.
"Right," David confirmed. "But not what it thinks… well, not what we hope it thinks if we've been successful. Those emails you sent…. remember what they said?"
"Of course," Amanda replied. She looked up as she recalled the words, as if they were written on the ceiling. "Uh… Hey guys, howzit goin? This whole lockdown thing is driving me nuts, blahblah… Got to get out and ruff it up a bit. Um….Was thinking about catching The Princess Bride on Kids Night at The Retro in Rouge City. But why don't all we hang at the Nexus instead? Don't reply to this. Incoming gets busted. Remember. See you at the Nexus. Thursday. Not Rouge City. Ciao for now. Mandy"
"Except for the blahblah, that's pretty spot on," Tamara said.
"Still don't get it," Amanda said.
"The Princess Bride is not playing at the Retro on Thursday," David pointed out.
"Oh, well that explains everything," Amanda said sarcastically.
"101 will know it's not playing there," David explained. "It has access to all such information. And when it sees those emails, which it will, it will sense something is wrong with them. As well with as the ones Wizzy sent to her friends, and the ones Mario and Grace and a few guys from the lab sent out. Including your Dad. They're all different, of course, but they all appear to be a covert attempt on our part, to keep our friends away from Rouge City tomorrow."
"That is somewhat closer to an explanation," Amanda said with a cluck of her tongue.
"I realized that 101 has been diving into Dr Know's database," David continued. "Think about it. It's updated with terabytes of data on a daily basis. It has access to every public event, every obit, every psa, every show that happening, every Amber Alert, every major news stream in the nation and beyond! It's the central unrestricted public information hub in the nation. Perhaps in the world.
"For the last two days, Jenna West has been making some really obvious inquiries into Olmier's operations in Rouge City, as well as some very public legal requests for access to Dr Know's user data for the last two weeks. 101 will definitely see all that too."
"Still not getting it," Amanda sighed.
Tamara groaned.
"We're making it seem like something is going down in Rouge City tomorrow," she said. "It doesn't have to be specific. We just need to make 101 think we have something big planned, something that threatens Olmier and its access to Dr Know's database."
"Oh," Amanda said, a light finally going on behind her eyes. "Feeding the bad wolf bad food. Hmmm. Smart. So while the crazy bot is obsessing over Rouge City, what're you gonna be doing?"
'Looking for twins,' David thought.
"That's all you get," is what he said, though. "Now, quid pro quo. Spill it."
Amanda crossed her arms and stared at him for a time, as if she was going to back out of the deal. Then she said:
"I have no idea what the big deal is about this, but you cannot, I repeat, CANNOT tell your Dad I said anything. He made me promise."
David's heart was beginning to race. He acknowledged her words with a nod.
"Well," she continued. "That statue? You know, the one from that fairy tale; that was underwater in the old amusement park? Well… when you left a few days ago, he had a crew dredge it up. In the middle of the night. All secret and stuff. I was on the roof… thinking you might come back, so… so anyway, I saw them."
David felt a sinking sensation.
"What did he do with it?" he said, fighting back the sudden urge to scream.
"It's here," Amanda replied. "Somewhere in the building."
9
14:21 and 13 seconds…
… 14 – 15 - 16…
The door opened soundlessly. David had expected it to squeak, but it someone must have been oiling the aged hinges. It was dark inside, and dirty. He didn't know how anyone could live in this place. He was sure it was crawling with bugs and germs, and probably reeked of mold and rot.
He switched the 500s view to night vision and the interior of the house was revealed in a spooky green light. Then he moved the 500 beyond the dark threshold.
The floor creaked under the boy bots weight. David stopped, listening for any movement inside. There was nothing. No audible sounds. No digital whispers. He continued, making his way cautiously into the dark kitchen. The 500 had no active olfactory functions, so he could not smell if anyone had been cooking in here. But the sink and stove had obviously not been used in years. He headed for what had once been the living room.
He remembered this place. The faint outline of the symbol of the Trinary Directive was still visible on the wooden floor; the one he had etched for Animal that night. Where was he now, David wondered. And Myron? Would this battle pit him against them, the tragic brothers? They weren't really evil. He knew that. Just misguided by the clever provocations of a mad machine. How far down this crazy rabbit hole had they descended, and could they get out before the walls fell in?
"He's here."
The childlike voice came from behind the 500. David quickly turned the bot around to see a shape highlighted in the green glow of the bot's night vision. It was a small figure, clad in a shrouding, hooded robe that made it appear like a ghostly apparition.
Another figure appeared suddenly, stepping from the back room of the house to stand beside to the first. They were identically dressed, of the same height and build.
Although he was safely hidden far away, David still felt vulnerable and exposed. Unconsciously, he pressed himself closer to the fence he was hiding behind, as if he thought the silent children might see him through the walls of the house.
"Who are you" he said, sending the words to the 500, unaware that he had spoken aloud.
Inside the house, the figures did not respond. But, as one, they reached up to pull the hoods from their heads, revealing what David had expected to see; the faces of identical twins.
They were boys, it appeared, perhaps 8 or 9 years old. In spite of their decrepit surroundings, and their obvious need for a bath, they appeared healthy. In the green hue of the night vision, David could not discern the true color of their unruly hair, but their faces bore a peculiar and somewhat disturbing expressionless innocence.
"It's not him," said one.
"I know," said the other. "But he is nearby."
Their words came like a whisper. David understood that they were not speaking to him, but about him. And with a shock he realized something else: their mouths had not moved. They were thinking their words!
"Who are you?" he thought, angrily sending the words to the 500.
"Calm yourself!" came an alarmed response from one of the boys. "It might hear you!"
The child was speaking aloud this time, using his physical voice.
"We know this is your Familiar," said the other, also speaking aloud. "But it is not safe to talk this way. We have much to tell you, and there is little time."
"Little time until what?" David asked.
"All will be revealed," replied the first boy. "But you must come to us now, in your true form. It will be good to finally meet you, Boy From Between."
(cont…)