《Humanity's Reckoning》 Chapter One [Friday, March 3rd 5173. Central City, Forgelands. A tiny efficiency apartment in the urban sprawl] The smiling face of Dashanti Ibramov flashed onto the screen. ¡°And now we turn to Pierre Gustav with world news. Pierre?¡± I didn¡¯t need to hear the rest. I already knew what he¡¯d say. Another Nullborn attack. Another day of chaos on the news. I leaned back in my chair, listening with half an ear as Pierre¡¯s grim voice spilled out of the speakers. ¡°Null hackers broke into a minor security mainframe and managed to wipe the debt of seventy million civilians¡ª¡± My hand froze on the mug I¡¯d been reaching for. Seventy million? ¡°Authorities are working round the clock to return the debt back to whom it rightfully belongs, and to clear Zamora¡¯s good name.¡± I leaned forward in my chair, my drink forgotten. ¡°That sounds terrible, Pierre. I hope those citizens can recover their debts. Do the authorities have any leads on the particular group of Nullborn who mounted this attack?¡± ¡°No, Dashanti, they don¡¯t. What¡¯s particularly concerning are the messages left in each account.¡± ¡°Messages? What do they say?¡± ¡°The same message was left in each account, Dashanti. ¡®Debt is a shackle, a travesty of the highest order. You are free, and we hope you come home.¡¯ The authorities are working on a meaning.¡± ¡°Come home? Why would anyone leave the safety of their city? Everyone knows the Wilds are filled with danger.¡± Pierre looked concerned. ¡°I really wish I had an answer for you all. We cannot understand the Nullborn. Our only hope is that they will leave us in peace some day.¡± ¡°Thank you, Pierre.¡± Dashanti turned to face the camera. ¡°That¡¯s the news for tonight. For LibertyForge CBC Number 5, I¡¯m Dashanti Ibramov reminding you that Sacrifice Builds Strength.¡± ******* I turned off the TV and leaned back in my chair, the faux leather making a soft squeak, and scrubbed my face with my hands. Attacks were fairly commonplace, but seventy million? That went far beyond the usual petty crimes from the Nullborn and into a full-blown terrorist attack. While there were some seven or eight billion people on the planet, to be able to erase and transfer that many debts at once was nothing short of incredible. By The Nine, I was tired. Thirteen hours on shift would do that. Thirteen hours sorting through the various scrap that LibertyForge tossed each day. Thirteen hours skimming memos that should have been shredded or incinerated. Memos that usually contained boring behavioral comments; nothing worth reading, in my opinion. Thirteen hours sifting through tech scrap that had been ¡°disabled¡± and ready to be sent to a recycling center. Half of that shit wasn¡¯t disabled or even outdated. Granted, it wasn¡¯t usable, but it was neat to tinker with. Over the past seven years as a Sanitation and Reclamation Specialist, I¡¯d repaired four security drones, eight different types of cameras and three phones. Granted, none of them could actually be used, but I knew they at least powered on and went through a proper boot sequence. They immediately shut themselves down afterwards, but that was to be expected. AetherNet was pretty thorough when it came to disabling devices. At least it gave me something to do in my off time. Speaking of time, I picked up my phone and opened my account. I¡¯d made some headway on paying down my debt, at least. Working for the last seven years as a SanRec, I¡¯d managed to pay down a little over two whole percent, down to a ¡°paltry¡± forty-five million. At this rate, assuming I continued to do a good job and didn¡¯t get sick, I could have my family¡¯s debt paid off by the time I hit four hundred years old. I snorted to myself. I would never live that long. At best, I might make a hundred. I wasn¡¯t some rich CEO. They could afford the gene therapy to extend their lives. Some did, too. Stephen Zucker, AetherNet¡¯s CEO was said to be almost nine hundred years old. Mr. Zucker was a bit of an anomaly, though. Most of the MegaCorp CEOs allowed their children to take over eventually. He¡¯d never even been married, as far as anyone could remember. I shook my head and closed the banking app. I seriously doubted I¡¯d ever have kids, though. Even if I were assigned a partner, I just couldn¡¯t bring myself to make her have a kid. No, Vanguard would likely harvest my DNA and just make one for me and whomever to take care of. Still, It wouldn¡¯t hurt to at least look for someone to date, even if just to kill the time. I opened the dating app and began browsing. About an hour and several hundred swipes later, I got bored and made some food. I needed to get some rest before my next shift, too. After a meal of bland vegetables and reconstituted protein, I went to bed. Your shift begins in sixty minutes, Oswald. It¡¯s time to wake up. My alarm was too cheerful. ¡°I¡¯ve told you, I want to be called Ozzy, Is that so hard?¡± Noted, Oswald. Thank you for waking up. Your five minute shower begins in thirty seconds. Grumbling, I tossed back the covers and hoofed it to the bathroom just as the water turned on. I managed to scrub, rinse and brush my teeth just as the water trickled to a stop. I toweled off and shook my hair from my eyes, making sure it hadn¡¯t gotten too long. Sure, I could cut it myself, but who had the time? I heard a ding, and walked to the main room, pulling my breakfast from the reconstituter. More of the same as last night. How I would love to know what real meat tasted like. I¡¯d read somewhere that the meals we got were ¡°functionally indistinguishable¡± from the real thing, but I was certain that was a lie. By The Nine, just a bit of extra salt would be nice. Just a few milligrams, even. I grimaced and ate mechanically, knowing it was just a pipe dream. Once done, I dropped the bowl and spoon into the recycler, dressed and left my little home for the day. My phone chirped once, letting me know I had a half hour until my shift. As I closed my door, my neighbor, Sal, greeted me. ¡°Ozzy! Right on time, man. Damn, you¡¯re punctual. What¡¯s going on today?¡± ¡°Oh, you know. Same stuff, different day. At least it¡¯s Saturday, yeah?¡± I said as we rode the escalator to the train. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Yep! Hey, I heard that Brother Jacky is giving a sermon about the ForgeFather tomorrow. You interested?¡± ¡°Nah. I¡¯ve heard all of them. Read them, too. I could probably recite them myself, at this point.¡± Sal planted his hands on his hips, an admonishing smile on his clean-shaven face. ¡°Now, you know how they get when you miss too many sermons, Ozzy.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll make the next one, Sal. They¡¯ve got me working another double today, and I¡®m already tired.¡± ¡°I see. Well, as you know, Sacrifice Builds Strength. Sacrifice a bit of sleep! You can do it, Ozzy!¡± I pursed my lips, biting back a comment. Sal meant well, but he was a bit too pious for my liking. Now, I worshipped The Nine just as much as anyone on this dirtball, but there was a point where it became a bit much. I knew my shift was going to wear me out, and I didn¡¯t feel like snoring in the Church. ¡°Sal,¡± I said calmly as we walked to the terminal. ¡°Do you know the penalty for falling asleep during a sermon?¡± ¡°Well, I can¡¯t say as I do. I¡¯ve never done such a thing.¡± His grin was a little too plastic for my liking. ¡°It¡¯s twelve million credits. It¡¯s only ten thousand to not go at all. I¡¯d have my debt nearly paid off if I hadn¡¯t fallen asleep as a kid.¡± ¡°Oh. I had no idea. How¡­ how close would you be, Ozzy?¡± Sal asked softly, his brow furrowed. I sighed. ¡°Next year, Sal. I¡¯d be paid off next year.¡± I watched him do some quick math. ¡°You fell asleep five times?¡± I nodded. ¡°I was beat to within an inch of my life every time. After that last one, I took to pinching myself to stay awake. At the time, the penalty went to my parents. Six million each. They were lucky enough that the rules changed before I became an adult, and were able to transfer that debt to me. Along with some medical bills. I¡¯ve paid off almost a quarter of it all by sacrificing my rest. Tomorrow, I¡¯m going to take the penalty and sleep.¡± We¡¯d reached the rail line and boarded just as the SkyRail got moving. Sal was uncharacteristically quiet through the trip, which was fine with me. He tended to talk too much, and I didn¡¯t feel like dealing with a hundred questions. I did see him fidgeting, which was a little uncharacteristic. After five minutes, the doors opened, and I got out. ¡°See you, Sal.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll pray the ForgeFather forgives your absence, Ozzy.¡± I waved as I walked away, then shoved my hands into my coat as I headed to the doors of the Reclamation plant. My phone chimed as I walked in, and I heard the welcome message in my ear. Welcome to work, Oswald. You are ten seconds early. Good job! Make us proud today! Yay. Ten whole seconds early. I shook my head and turned left, heading down the hallway to the Pit. It wasn¡¯t a terrible job, all things considered. Finding the odd classified memo was always neat, even if I didn¡¯t understand any of what was going on. I was thankful that I could swipe pretty much any bit of trash I could fit in my coat or lunchbox, though. I knew a guy in the Under who would trade me some, shall we say, interesting items for the occasional swiped tablet or phone. I hung my coat on the rack as I entered the Pit. It was warm in here, and I¡¯d need as much clarity as I could muster. I picked up my gloves and data pad, then got to work. Sector 7, row 8, column 4. I walked over to the blinking location on my pad. The ground was strewn with papers, ash, and various non-organic refuse, but it was all in more or less neat piles. Sector seven housed mostly paper scrap. Office memos that weren¡¯t deemed a security risk, doodled-on scraps of paper, the occasional love note between colleagues (those were interesting, sometimes), and other useless office scraps. I walked over to the location, and sifted through the papers, removing paper clips, staples and the occasional plastic binder. All things that the Recyclers couldn¡¯t handle in their equipment. None of the paperwork in this pile was worth anything to me, so after I pulled the non-recyclables out, I stepped away and pushed the button on my pad labeled ¡°Purge?¡±. As soon as I did, the floor opened up, letting the papers fall into the Recycling bin. Almost immediately after the floor closed again, a tube just above the sector dispensed the next lot to be sorted. ding Sector 5, row 3, column 2. I shrugged and went to the next location. Supposedly, we had an AI system that directed us to each location the way it did in order to achieve ¡°maximum efficiency¡±. Not for the first time I thought it might be more efficient to just assign someone a row or column in a sector and have them go down that one until it was finished. But the AI seemed to think this was better. Oh well. Sector five held some more sensitive data. It was a mixed bag between papers and electronics, so I had to do a more intense bit of scrutiny on these. At least they gave me a workbench for each location in this sector. I sighed and picked up a bunch of papers. Rifling through these, I saw expenditures versus profits, some charts that I couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of, a few memos that were a damn sight more serious than before, but were still inconsequential, overall. One, however, caught my eye. From: Her Holiness, The High Executor To: His Eminence, J.E. Forge I have completed this month¡¯s scheduled Disconnections as requested, Sir. I do, however, wish for clarification on one Marta Angelus. Are we certain that this was warranted? She was, if I recall, your next highest CEO. As always, I remain your servant. HH Huh. That should have definitely been burned after reading. I folded it up and tucked it into my sock after scanning it for trackers. I knew it was a risk, but finding out that the High Executor himself answered to the MegaCorps? That was information I was pretty sure would fetch a high price. Maybe I could get some actual paper books from my ¡°friend¡± in the Under. I nodded to myself and continued sorting. An hour later, I¡¯d found no other documents of note, but I did find a small, portable hard drive in the pile. There weren¡¯t any trackers in it, and it had a multitude of different files on it, so I slipped it in a pocket and resolved to study it at home on one of my Disconnected laptops. No sense in possibly infecting my personal Aether Device with something. And, in the unlikely event that I found something interesting, Aether wouldn¡¯t be able to trace it to me. Thankfully, LibertyForge didn¡¯t care that we took things out of the refuse pile. After all, it was technically disabled before it even made its way to me, so why should they care that I got hold of it? The official line was that it was grounds for termination, but in reality? Never even mentioned. I continued through my day, being sent to other sectors and locations every time I finished one. It was tedious and annoying, but I still had to go somewhere else. At the end of the shift, I left with the aforementioned note and miniature drive, plus a pair of drones, one of which was an expired security drone. It was a few generations old, but I was sure that I could repurpose it, somehow. ding Congratulations, Oswald! You exceeded your quota by 0.04 percent! Welcome to your new base expectation! Remember: slacking will be penalized. Have a good day! I sighed. Of course I had to go and work just a little bit harder. I¡¯d carefully controlled how hard I¡¯d worked for the past seven years, making at most an occasional 0.02 percent increase in my productivity. I¡¯d just doubled that today. Granted, it only amounted to about a five percent increase from the day I started, but it added up. As I left the building, my phone vibrated. Checking it, I saw that my pay had been deposited for the day, including the miniscule bonus for exceeding quota. I had enough to verify my food delivery for the next couple of weeks, plus some minor amenities. I boarded the SkyRail and thumbed through the offerings. Food services? Nah. While my meals were kind of bland, they sufficed for my needs. Though I would like some salt. Jewelry? Why would I ever need something like that? I didn¡¯t care to look gaudy. Next. Clothes? Nah. Digital books? Huh. While I loved to read, I already had a couple of books on my Disconnected computer that I¡¯d not read yet. Let¡¯s see¡­ Huh. HoloFrames? That was new. I checked the description. HoloFrames by AetherNet! The newest in wearable tech, these nifty frames will correct your eyesight AND help you get to where you¡¯re going! Featuring a customizable AI interface that we¡¯ve spent years developing, one-way lenses (no fair letting someone else peek at what you¡¯re doing, after all!), and our patented bone-conduction audio system, HoloFrames will revolutionize the way you work AND play! Choose from our dazzling array of colors and styles, and then your connection tier, and with a modest fee, they¡¯ll be waiting at your door within the hour! Hmm. Looked neat. Might be able to help me with my job and my tinkering. Checking the price, I grunted. That was far too steep. Maybe there was a budget option? I scrolled down. Ah. There it was. Black or silver, a single style, no ability to record and save video, and a toned-down version of their AI. For an eighth of the price. That I could handle. What¡¯s this other option here? A throat mic? I wondered what that was. For fifty credits more, I figured it was worth a shot. If it was just a gimmick, I¡¯d toss it or sell it to my ¡°friend¡±. I hit the purchase button and rode the rest of the way home in a meditative silence. A soft ding alerted me to the fact that the train had reached my stop. Shaking off the weight and some of the exhaustion from the day, I glanced at my phone, seeing the alert for delivery. I smiled as I made my way to my little efficiency apartment, anticipating a new gadget to test and hopefully see if it could make my life easier; or at least a little more enjoyable. Chapter Two [Friday, March 3rd 5173. Central City, Forgelands. A spacious high-rise penthouse overlooking the entirety of the city.] The smiling face of Dashanti Ibramov flashed onto the large screen. ¡°And now we turn to Pierre Gustav with world news. Pierre?¡± I focused on the computer in front of me, my mind partially on the broadcast, but mostly focused on the detailed reports in front of me. I grumbled softly, seeing that sales were down two percent for the quarter. ¡°Null hackers broke into a minor security mainframe and managed to wipe the debt of seventy million civilians¡ª¡± I snapped my eyes up to the screen, the report momentarily forgotten. Seventy million? ¡°Authorities are working round the clock to return the debt back to whom it rightfully belongs, and to clear Zamora¡¯s good name.¡± I reached for my coffee, taking a sip of the bitter, black brew to calm my nerves. Zamora had to be furious. ¡°That sounds terrible, Pierre. I hope those citizens can recover their debts. Do the authorities have any leads on the particular group of Nullborn who mounted this attack?¡± ¡°No, Dashanti, they don¡¯t. What¡¯s particularly concerning are the messages left in each account.¡± ¡°Messages? What do they say?¡± ¡°The same message was left in each account, Dashanti. ¡®Debt is a shackle, a travesty of the highest order. You are free, and we hope you come home.¡¯ The authorities are working on a meaning.¡± ¡°Come home? Why would anyone leave the safety of their city? Everyone knows the Wilds are filled with danger.¡± Pierre looked concerned. ¡°I really wish I had an answer for you all. We cannot understand the Nullborn. Our only hope is that they will leave us in peace some day.¡± ¡°Thank you, Pierre.¡± Dashanti turned to face the camera. ¡°That¡¯s the news for tonight. For LibertyForge CBC Number 5, I¡¯m Dashanti Ibramov reminding you that Sacrifice Builds Strength.¡± ********** I set my coffee down and reached for my phone, swiping to call my ¡°friend¡±. ¡°So. I suppose you¡¯ve seen the news?¡± ¡°Gideon! Yes, I saw that. That must be terrible. How are you coping?¡± ¡°How the fuck do you think I¡¯m coping, Forge? Marie is considering a divorce and the kids just called to ask if we have to go live in the fucking slums! At least we can push that debt back to where it belongs. Those damn Nullborn left a message in each file. No idea how much debt was held by whom, though. They were pretty thorough in their work.¡± I permitted myself a small smile. For being out on the fringes of society, the Nullborn were terrifyingly adept at getting things done in our systems. ¡°Well, at least it won¡¯t last more than a couple of hours.¡± I heard him sigh. ¡°True. It¡¯s still grating to be just like them, though. Anyway, the next Enclave is a week from tomorrow, right?¡± I checked my calendar. ¡°Correct. A week from tomorrow. The High Executor will be in attendance with a few questions, according to the last memo she sent me.¡± ¡°Remind me again why we have to put up with that shit? It¡¯s not like we¡¯re beholden to that silly religion.¡± ¡°Appearances must be kept, Gideon. As long as the High Executor does her job, she doesn¡¯t have to worry. And as long as she doesn¡¯t worry, the people don¡¯t worry. Their complacency is paramount. Your father understood this, so why can¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Probably because I¡¯m not my dad. Thankfully, he¡¯s gone and I don¡¯t have to worry about him butting into my work with the company.¡± ¡°Gideon, you are positively hopeless. I¡¯ve been in my position for a few centuries now, and your father was one of the sharpest businessmen I¡¯d ever met. Anyway, I wanted to see how you were doing with this. It seems you¡¯re just fine, and likely to stay that way. I will see you next week.¡± I hung up and shook my head. Gideon was a moron. His father would have been on the phone to Ironclad in a femtosecond and gotten justice on the particular Nullborn group responsible. As it was, we would be discussing it at the Enclave next week and devising some sort of retaliatory strike. Plans percolating in the back of my head, I returned my focus to the report in front of me. ******* I looked up as I finished, my eyes feeling like they had sand in them. Looking around, I saw that night had fallen, and our three moons were well above the horizon. I picked up my now-cold coffee and walked to the large floor-to-ceiling window, gazing up at the sky. The Three Sisters were shining brightly above our heads, and I basked in their glow. Looking across my country, I could see lights twinkling in the distance as far as the eye could see. Better than that, the knowledge that at every moment of every day, my factories were churning out everything we needed on this little planet. And we¡¯d only just begun to mine the asteroids between our home and the next planet in our system. Soon, even more wealth would flow into my bank. Draining the last of the dregs of the coffee, I set the mug on the counter and went to my bed, trusting that the drones would take care of the cleaning. ********* On the day of the Enclave, I made sure to don my sharpest suit and brand new HoloFrames. The AI was second to none, and would help me maintain my position as the head of the Enclave. I¡¯d stolen the best AI programmer from under Aether¡¯s nose and gotten him to write a unique AI for me. Naturally, I¡¯d had him killed once the bugs were worked out. This ensured that I¡¯d be the only one with this advantage. I walked into the large room, a smile on my face. ¡°Hello everyone! It¡¯s so good to see you again. Gideon, I¡¯m glad to see that the recent events have not had any adverse effects and I hope you¡¯re ready for today¡¯s Enclave.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Forge.¡± He inclined his head toward me, his eyes narrowed. In my head, the voice of my Assistant whispered. You have embarrassed him, sir. Ninety-four percent probability that he is contemplating physical harm. Shall I inform Ironclad, sir? I took my seat, thankful that I didn¡¯t have to speak to my Assistant, merely letting my implanted mic do the job for me. {No, that won¡¯t be necessary. Gideon knows better.} As you wish, sir. The High Executor raised her arms. ¡°If we are done dispensing pleasantries?¡± She looked around the table and nodded. ¡°Thank you. I will now begin the invocation.¡± She cleared her throat and was silent for a moment. She gazed up to the ceiling and began. ¡°By the Eternal Hand of Creation, the divine forces that shape our world, hear our call and bless this gathering of purpose.¡± She turned to me, saying, ¡°Forgefather, Master of the Flame, Grant us the strength to labor, the wisdom to create, and the unyielding will to forge the future from the fires of innovation. May our work be true, and may our hands craft greatness from the raw materials of ambition.¡± Next, she faced Gideon. ¡°Verdant Mother, Guardian of the Green, Breathe life into our endeavors, nourish the world with your abundance, and guide us in the care of all things that grow. May our harvests be bountiful, our foundations fertile, and our future prosperous beneath your tender gaze.¡± She turned to Tycho, next. ¡°Warden, Keeper of the Boundaries, Watch over us with vigilant eyes and steadfast resolve. Shield us from the chaos that lurks, and protect our vision with the strength of your unyielding will. Let no threat breach our borders, and let no fear undermine our purpose.¡± She shifted to face Miss DeValle. ¡°Fleshweaver, Healer of the Body and Spirit, Mend what is broken, purify what is tainted, and renew us with your touch. Through you, the flesh and the soul find strength, healing, and vitality. May we be strong in our bodies and clear in our minds, ever striving toward health and harmony.¡± Next, she turned to ancient Stephen, a man we were all certain had been there at the founding of our colony. ¡°Whisperer, Voice of the Ether, Guide us in the currents of thought and connection that bind our world together. Through your whispers, may we gain insight into the unseen, hear the voices of the past and future, and weave the fabric of knowledge into the tapestry of our collective will.¡± She faced Keith, next. ¡°Lightbearer, Harbinger of Power, Illuminate our path with the brilliance of your eternal light. May we draw strength from your radiance, and may our endeavors burn bright with the energy that sustains the world. Let our innovations shine as beacons, lighting the way for all to follow.¡± She turned to face Brendan, who was seated beside Gideon. ¡°Architect, Shaper of Foundations, Let your divine blueprint guide our designs and our cities. Through your hands, we build not only structures but the very framework of civilization. May we craft spaces that endure, that shelter, and that inspire - forever reaching toward perfection.¡± Keven was next, and he sat up straight for once. ¡°Horizon Walker, Traveler of the Unknown, Lead us toward uncharted realms, to frontiers not yet discovered. May we never falter in our quest for progress, nor cease in our pursuit of new horizons. Through your will, we transcend the limits of today and leap boldly into the future.¡± Finally, she turned to face Louis, a man I still couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of, even after sixty years. ¡°Benefactor, Patron of Luxuries, In your grace, we find the fruits of abundance and the gifts of pleasure. Guide us in the creation of prosperity, not just for the few, but for all who walk in your favor. May our wealth and luxuries lift spirits and enrich lives, sustaining the world in joy and comfort.¡± She gazed once more to the ceiling. ¡°We invoke your blessings upon this Enclave, your sacred council of purpose and will. Guide our decisions with your eternal wisdom, and let our actions honor your domains. In your names, we speak, and in your light, we shall strive. So it is, and so it shall be.¡± Crossing her arms over her chest, she made her final intonation. ¡°Together, under the watchful eyes of the Nine, we stand Resolute.¡± We called back, ¡°We stand Resolute.¡± ¡°Thank you for observing the Invocation, honored Pillars. I shall take my seat now.¡± She began to walk to her seat. ¡°One moment, High Executor,¡± I said. Oh. Her heart rate just hit a new record, sir. I would be cautious with my next words. {Thank you, Assistant.} She turned to face me, her hands fidgeting in front of her. ¡°Y-yes Forgefather?¡± ¡°Regarding the memo you sent me earlier this month, about Miss Angelus?¡± I would smile, sir. Having a heart attack at the Enclave would be a bad look for business. ¡°I-I never meant to criticize, Forgefather! Please understand that I was-¡± I raised my hand, putting a soft smile on my face. ¡°Relax. You are not in any sort of trouble.¡± I saw the anxiety drain from her face like water in a drain. ¡°I can understand some confusion at my request to have her Disconnected. For everyone¡¯s sake, I will gladly explain myself.¡± ¡°Yes, Forge. Please do. I¡¯ve been curious since the announcement swept through my networks,¡± Stephen said quietly. I nodded at the man. ¡°Disconnecting Marta was a¡­difficult decision. From the information you have so kindly supplied to me, Mister Zucker, the workers have been questioning our means and authority of late. So, in order to refrain from showing outright favoritism to any of our employees, I had the High Executor Disconnect Marta as a sacrifice to show that there are no exceptions to a Disconnection. There is nothing that will save them unless we will it. Marta¡¯s loss is a large one to me personally, but the increased productivity it brought? More than worth it.¡± I gazed into the High Executor¡¯s eyes. ¡°Does that satisfy your curiosity, High Executor?¡± Very good, sir. She bowed her head. ¡°Yes, Forgefather. Thank you for indulging in this humble Executor¡¯s curiosity.¡± ¡°Excellent. Please take your seat.¡± After she had done so, I turned to Gideon. ¡°And now, I think we should discuss what to do about your situation, Gideon.¡± ¡°My situation? What do you mean, Forge?¡± ¡°Why, the Nullborn attack. Surely, you cannot mean for us to let this go unpunished?¡± ¡°I¡­well, no. Of course not. I simply hadn¡¯t had the time to speak to Miller about it. That¡¯s all.¡± I faced Tycho. ¡°Well? What do you suggest?¡± Tycho pursed his lips. ¡°We still don¡¯t know which cell attacked Zamora. My spies have been out for the past four days, and nobody is talking. I think they might have gotten a bit smarter.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Hmm. Suggestions, then? If we cannot find the cell of Nullborn that committed the attack, what should we do?¡± Tycho Miller has an idea, sir. Put him on the spot. {Are you sure? He¡¯s not moved a millimeter since this all started.} I am ninety-seven percent certain. ¡°Tycho!¡± I barked. ¡°You¡¯ve been quiet for a while. What¡¯s on your mind?¡± The man spooked a bit then looked at me sheepishly. ¡°Well, I was wondering if the public hasn¡¯t become somewhat sympathetic to the Nullborn. The last attack was not met with much chatter, according to my people. That would suggest they¡¯re either becoming sympathetic or worse, indifferent.¡± ¡°Hmm. Possibly. Go on.¡± ¡°Well, what if - and hear me out on this - we have some Ironclad boys dress up as Nullborn and ¡®destroy¡¯ a neighborhood or two before another group of Ironclad sweeps them out?¡± The room was deathly quiet. Everyone was staring at Miller. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Brendan began, ¡°That¡¯s got to be the craziest thing I¡¯ve ever heard.¡± ¡°Crazy, yes. But not without its merits,¡± Theresa stated. ¡°Up to now, all of the attacks save for a few outliers, from the Nullborn have been digital. A physical confrontation would indeed shock the populace out of any sort of complacency. Do you have a location in mind, Tycho?¡± I smiled and sat back, my hands clasped in my lap. This was going well. Chapter Three [Friday, March 3rd 5173. Central City, Forgelands. A small, efficient home in the suburbs] The smiling face of Dashanti Ibramov flashed onto the screen. ¡°And now we turn to Pierre Gustav with world news. Pierre?¡± I took a bite of my sandwich. The lettuce crunched delightfully as I tore off the small chunk, chewing appreciatively. The taste of tomatoes coupled with real bacon was always blissful. ¡°Null hackers broke into a minor security mainframe and managed to wipe the debt of seventy million civilians and somehow dumped it all into the account of Gideon Zamora himself, totaling almost a quadrillion credits.¡± My hands froze as I took another bite. Seventy million people? And almost a quadrillion in debt? I put the sandwich down and leaned forward, my attention on the screen. ¡°Authorities are working round the clock to return the debt back to whom it rightfully belongs, and to clear Zamora¡¯s good name.¡± Mindlessly, I ate the rest of my sandwich as I watched the news. ¡°That sounds terrible, Pierre. I hope those citizens can recover their debts. Do the authorities have any leads on the particular group of Nullborn who mounted this attack?¡± ¡°No, Dashanti, they don¡¯t. What¡¯s particularly concerning are the messages left in each account.¡± ¡°Messages? What do they say?¡± ¡°The same message was left in each account, Dashanti. ¡®Debt is a shackle, a travesty of the highest order. You are free, and we hope you come home.¡¯ The authorities are working on a meaning.¡± ¡°Come home? Why would anyone leave the safety of their city? Everyone knows the Wilds are filled with danger.¡± Pierre looked concerned. ¡°I really wish I had an answer for you all. We cannot understand the Nullborn. Our only hope is that they will leave us in peace some day.¡± ¡°Thank you, Pierre.¡± Dashanti turned to face the camera. ¡°That¡¯s the news for tonight. For LibertyForge CBC Number 5, I¡¯m Dashanti Ibramov reminding you that Sacrifice Builds Strength.¡± Before the next commercial began, I muted the TV. The Nullborn had managed to do that to Zamora Himself? I pulled out my phone and quickly searched for any data on the attack. Huh. It seemed the issue was fixed within a few hours. The Nine were efficient, if nothing else. I checked the duty roster for the next day. I had fifty-seven employees to chaperone this time. I sighed and shook my head. I really wished they¡¯d let me have an assistant. Anybody would do, even one of the SanRec kids. I¡¯d have to bring it up in Monday¡¯s meeting. I looked at my plate, only now realizing it was empty. Damn. I¡¯d paid good money for that sandwich, only to have the joy of eating real meat and vegetables stolen by a shitty newsreel. Fifty thousand credits down the Nine-damned drain. Grumbling, I took my plate to the sink and rinsed it off, placing it in the rack to dry. I was about to go back to my room when a knock sounded at the door. When I opened it, there was nobody there. I looked up and down the street, seeing no movement and hearing no sounds other than the occasional drone fly-by. Turning back to my door, there was a note affixed with a glob of security glue. Citizen: Your monthly protection payment of 75,000 credits is due. Failure to transfer the funds by tomorrow morning will result in a forfeiture of Ironclad Security¡¯s attention. Please remit payment promptly. Order Through Strength Dammit. I thought I¡¯d paid that one. I snatched the note from the door and it began dissolving into a soft putty. Knowing it would decompose in a matter of minutes, I tossed it into the sink and pulled up my bank app. Still hovering at fifteen million in debt. Not bad. I could work with this. Approving another hundred thousand credit loan was thankfully easy. Credits in hand, I wired the money to Ironclad and paid my grocery bill for the next month. It would take some serious overtime to pay this down, but I was sure I could do it in the next month. It was a good thing I had been rendered sterile as a kid, or I¡¯d have even more issues to worry about. Vanguard may have saved my life -at significant cost, mind you- but I¡¯d never be able to bear a child of my own. I walked back to my room and pulled up my book app. Time to relax. /**********/ Angela? It¡¯s time to wake up. Your shift begins in approximately an hour. I groaned and sat up, the sheet falling to my waist. ¡°Thanks, Cosmo.¡± You are welcome Angela. Your ten-minute shower will start in thirty seconds. I shall have your breakfast ready when you get out. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. I nodded and shuffled off to the bathroom, where the water had just begun to fall. I had just finished rinsing when the water trickled off, and I dried off, wrapping a separate towel around my long hair. The ding from the reconstituter alerted me to my morning ration, and I ate mechanically, not worrying about tasting anything. I dropped my empty bowl into the recycler, and got dressed. ¡°Cosmo? How much time do I have?¡± Your shift begins in thirty-seven minutes, ma¡¯am. I grimaced. Not enough time for a coffee, then. ¡°Thanks Cosmo.¡± I hurried out to the train station, and boarded the early line. The train was full of passengers, some who smelled like they hadn¡¯t showered in days. I stood off to the side of the door and took hold of the rail above me for the entire fifteen minute ride. Thankfully, nobody bothered me today. After one of the Disconnected somehow gained access to the train and rode all the way to the Hub, Ironclad and AetherNet had beefed up security. People were terrified to even look at another passenger, now. Nobody wanted Ironclad¡¯s attention. Which was perfect for me. I didn¡¯t want to deal with people, and honestly? I had no time even for friends. It was just as well that I was left alone. The train stopped near work, and I exited, heading up the stairs. I heard the welcome message in my ear as I walked through the doors. Welcome to work, Angela. You¡¯re fifteen minutes early! The Forgefather smiles upon your dedication and sacrifice. I took a deep breath and walked up to my office, which overlooked the Reclamation floor. Hopefully these idiots could be trusted to not kill themselves or each other for the next thirteen hours. As luck would have it, my desk had a stack of receipts and invoices to go through; all of which needed my attention. I placed my bag down and got to work, picking up the first sheet of paper, which wound up being a time sheet report for the management. I shook my head ruefully. Why did we still keep track of time like this? Our AetherNet devices all ping back to the network with our locations every five seconds. They knew we were here. Paperwork was little more than a formality at this point. Still, I had a job to do. And if they were going to pay me to double-check the paperwork against the electronic record, who was I to argue? It was just insufferably boring. I pulled up the program on my computer and cross-referenced yesterday¡¯s attendance and times with the papers, and found no discrepancies. As usual. That task done, I picked up the next bundle and flipped through them. Complaints and requisition requests. Sector 5, row 2, column 2 Drop door malfunctioned and sent Employee 0003582722 to the incinerator. Next of Kin notified. Replacement hired 33 minutes later. Ugh. Another death. After we¡¯d sent a maintenance team to that drop door four times this month already. I¡¯d liked Kenny. He was funny, sometimes. I put that one in a ¡°follow-up¡± pile. Sector 7 - General request Gloves needed for the handling of caustic waste. Employee 0003581399 has complained about chemical burns to hands. Request denied. Caustic waste at acceptable risk levels. Poor Jen. She¡¯d had issues in Sector 7 for months. The AI kept dropping the wrong materials over there since just after she got hired. Hazardous wastes were supposed to be processed in Sector 9. They were equipped for that. I put a request for her to get hazard pay, since the burns were starting to scar. On and on it went, sifting through the various complaints and problems my team kept experiencing. Some, I was able to do something about, like Jen¡¯s hands, but most of it? I was powerless. Just another pencil-pusher in this monstrosity of a system. I stopped midway through my shift to eat a quick snack of soy protein and a couple of multivitamins, then put my head down and went back to work, slogging through the endless reports and requests. Some were easy to deal with, but others I had to pass up the chain or over to the laughable HR team to deal with. Like they were going to be able to stop Mike from getting handsy with Sheila. I¡¯d warned him several times in the past about keeping his hands to himself, but he didn¡¯t seem to care. Even when I¡¯d had him fined a half million credits, he just kept going. I shook my head and placed that one in the escalation pile. Let¡¯s see. Next was¡­ oh? Altercation between Employee 0003561923 and Employee 0003561927. After repeated attempts to ward off Employee 0003561923¡¯s behavior, Employee 0003561927 took action to remove Employee 0003561923¡¯s hands. Employee 0003561923 suffered catastrophic blood loss and expired. Replacement hired twenty-four minutes later. Employee 0003561927 terminated and suggested for Disconnection due to destroying company property. Property damaged: One (1) pair of TitanWorks Mining Gloves. Reason: Contamination with Employee 0003561923¡¯s blood, and sent into the incinerator. Well. Looks like Sheila had had enough of Mike¡¯s bullshit. Good for her. But now, she was suggested for Disconnection of all things. For being human and having enough of someone else¡¯s unwanted advances? I submitted a recommendation for counseling, instead. Sure, she¡¯d have to reimburse the company for destroying Mike¡¯s gloves, but at least this way she would live. I shuddered, thinking about being Disconnected. To have your debt wiped out? Awesome. Great. To be removed from all records of existence? Not so awesome. The Disconnected were scrubbed so cleanly from society you¡¯d question if you ever even knew them, even though they might be your sister or best friend. Your AetherNet devices were locked and no amount of begging would turn them back on. You lost all access to every single part of what made this world livable. In short, you were a ghost. Free range for anyone to do anything at all they wanted with you. This was why the Church kindly gave the Disconnected a week¡¯s worth of shelter and food, before turning them loose in the Dead Zones. Only the truly strong survived there. I shook myself from my mental meanderings and got back to my reports. I really hoped Sheila would be able to stay away from Disconnection. /*********/ Angela? Your shift ended three hours ago. Should you not be at home? ¡°Hm? Sorry, Cosmo. Let me submit the overtime request for myself. Might as well request overtime for the rest of the month, too. Aaand there. Done. Let¡¯s go home, Cosmo.¡± Excellent. I¡¯ll make sure you have something hot to eat by the time you get there. ¡°Thanks, Cosmo. It¡¯s good to have an assistant like you.¡± My pleasure, ma¡¯am! I shall be sure to send your praise to my programmer at AetherNet. I smiled wearily as I boarded the train, sixteen hours a day would take a toll, after all. Chapter Four [Friday, March 3rd 5173. Central City, Forgelands. A mid-sized home in a sprawling neighborhood] The smiling face of Dashanti Ibramov flashed onto the screen. ¡°And now we turn to Pierre Gustav with world news. Pierre?¡± I grunted as Samuel greeted me. ¡°Watching the news. Hush.¡± He bowed his head and returned to the dishes. ¡°Null hackers broke into a minor security mainframe and managed to wipe the debt of seventy million civilians and somehow dumped it all into the account of Gideon Zamora himself, totaling almost a quadrillion credits.¡± Cutlery clinked in the sink, ruining my concentration. By the Nine, could he stop making so much damn noise? ¡°Authorities are working round the clock to return the debt back to whom it rightfully belongs, and to clear Zamora¡¯s good name.¡± Wait. Those lowlife scumbags had the audacity to steal our debt? We owed that money to the Forgefather! Only He could annul our debt! And they just gave it to Zamora? Or maybe¡­ Maybe Zamora was in on it? Nah. He would have this shit sorted in a day. Two at most. ¡°Quiet, Samuel. This is important.¡± ¡°...authorities have any leads on the particular group of Nullborn who mounted this attack?¡± ¡°No, Dashanti, they don¡¯t. What¡¯s particularly concerning are the messages left in each account.¡± Dashanti opened her mouth, but I missed her next words. ¡°Dad? I need help with my- Mommy!¡± Waylon ran up to me, his arms outstretched. ¡°Not now. Mommy¡¯s watching something important. Go bug your father.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± Waylon sighed and cast his gaze to the floor as he turned around and dragged his feet toward Samuel. So weak, just like his useless father. Dammit. I missed what Pierre had said. ¡°Come home? Why would anyone leave the safety of their city? Everyone knows the Wilds are filled with danger.¡± Pierre looked concerned. ¡°I really wish I had an answer for you all. We cannot understand the Nullborn. Our only hope is that they will leave us in peace some day.¡± Pah. As if they¡¯d do that. The Nullborn were jealous of our rich lives, and only wanted to destroy everything. Fucking scumbags. ¡°Thank you, Pierre.¡± Dashanti turned to face the camera. ¡°That¡¯s the news for tonight. For LibertyForge CBC Number 5, I¡¯m Dashanti Ibramov reminding you that Sacrifice Builds Strength.¡± ¡°Turn it off, Samuel.¡± I opened my news app on my phone as he swiftly walked over and turned off the TV. Pulling up the transcript of the broadcast that I¡¯d just watched most of, I read the message Pierre was talking about. Come home? What fucking use was living in the Wilds like an animal? I shook my head in disgust and turned my gaze to the corner, where Samuel had returned to and was speaking quietly with Waylon, hunched over a book. I saw him ruffle the kid¡¯s hair, beaming a smile at him. I grimaced. I never wanted Samuel in my life, but the Nine determined him to be a ¡°proper genetic counterpart¡± for me. What a load of shit. Samuel was a weak-willed, submissive cuck who showed little ambition beyond being a house-husband. Worse was the fact that we even had a child together. Always needing attention. Always with his arms up, crying ¡®Mommy! Mommy!¡¯. I had more important things to do than coddle a needy brat and wrangle my cuck husband. I was due a promotion soon, and I had to impress the CEO. If I were to become the COO, I had to look good, and part of that was having a family. Just another role to play. Now, I just had to impress the CEO of SanRec, and I could become her COO. From there? Everything was in my grasp. I focused once more on Samuel. He had finished with whatever the kid needed, and turned back to the kitchen, headed to the stove. A few minutes later, he returned, carrying a plate of food. ¡°Here you are, Brenda. Pan fried salmon, just like you¡¯d asked for this morning.¡± He set the plate down in front of me. A lightly salted, properly seared fillet of fish greeted my eyes. There was a brown sauce pooled beside it and had been lightly drizzled on top. Beside the fish, Samuel had placed some vibrantly colored, steamed vegetables. It smelled divine. What¡¯s more, it tasted better than it looked. At least the man wasn¡¯t completely useless. ¡°Excellent. Go, now. Leave me to my dinner.¡± I saw his lips twitch slightly. ¡°Yes, Brenda.¡± He clasped his hands in front of him as he walked back to the kitchen. I shook my head and dug into the dish, letting my thoughts dwell on tomorrow¡¯s meeting. /*********/ ¡°Mrs. Frankel?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± I smiled sweetly at the receptionist. ¡°Miss Amistad will see you now.¡± ¡°Thank you so much.¡± I stood and gave the receptionist a slight nod of my head as I went into the opening doors. As I entered the CEO¡¯s office, my hands began to tremble. I walked up to her desk, just as I had many times before, all but ignoring the authentic wood paneling on the walls, the four small potted plants near the window, and the animal lounging in a padded basket affixed to the windowsill. What I couldn¡¯t ignore, no matter how many times I¡¯d been here, was the massive wooden desk in the center of the room. Seemingly made from a single piece of actual wood, the edifice was impressive and off-putting in its opulence. Seated behind this magnificent piece of furniture was Miss Amistad herself, CEO of the Sanitation and Reclamations division of LibertyForge. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. She was of middling height and possessed a curvaceous build, but what attracted me most of all were her eyes. She watched my every movement like a bird of prey scouting its next meal. I felt, as I always did in her presence, small, weak, and above all else, powerless. I hated it. She gestured to the chair in front of her desk. ¡°Please take a seat, Mrs. Frankel.¡± ¡°Thank you, Miss Amistad.¡± I took the proffered seat, and sat as gracefully as I could. The only sound in the room was the ticking of a clock that I couldn¡¯t place as she thumbed through my file. Determined not to break first, I sat in silence, a soft smile painted on my face. ¡°It says here that you are seeking advancement to the available COO position, is that correct?¡± ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am.¡± She nodded and continued. ¡°Your service record is, to put it simply, exemplary. You have a fire and a passion within you to move as high as possible as quickly as possible. What¡¯s more, you seem to not only attain those positions, but show yourself able to perform in them, as well. Can you explain that to me?¡± She directed those terrifyingly beautiful blue orbs to my face. I swallowed involuntarily. ¡°Of course. When I see a position I want, I will do everything necessary to not only learn how to do it, but to do it well. As well as or better than anyone else. I want success; not only for me, but for LibertyForge as a whole. If the company doesn¡¯t succeed, I can¡¯t succeed.¡± She nodded and redirected her attention to the pages in front of her. After a tense moment, I saw her blue eyes regarding me from over the papers. ¡°So. How is Samuel?¡± I blinked rapidly. Why would she want to know anything about that worthless oaf? ¡°Sam? He¡¯s doing well, I¡¯d say. Taking care of Waylon in my stead while I¡¯m here. He¡¯s a wonderful husband, really.¡± My stomach did an involuntary flip. She nodded. ¡°Good. I¡¯m glad to know you two still have a good relationship after all this time. Life as a COO isn¡¯t for the weak family.¡± I nodded. ¡°Absolutely. He¡¯s well aware of my drive and goals, and does everything he can to help me reach them. Sacrifice does indeed build strength.¡± ¡°Yes it does. It does indeed.¡± She paused for a moment, weighing her next words carefully. Her hands clasped in front of her on the desk. ¡°I was married once, you know. Had two kids, if you can believe it.¡± I sat up straighter. This was new. ¡°I¡­ didn¡¯t know that, actually.¡± She nodded. ¡°Yes. They were taken from me by a Nullborn attack a year before I came to SanRec. The Forgefather Himself decided it was for the best that I leave the eastern part of the Forgelands, away from the constant reminders of what I once had. He placed me here, and told me that He expected great things from me.¡± Her icy-blue eyes bored into mine, and I found myself lost, as if in a trance. Her next words were soft, almost inaudible. ¡°Sacrifice, Mrs. Frankel, will build great strength.¡± As suddenly as the connection was made, it was broken once more, and I finally found my next shuddering breath. Miss Amistad took a couple more moments rifling through my file before casting her gaze on me once more. ¡°As you know, being the COO of SanRec will be not only a great honor, but will bring with it some expectations. Expectations from you, your husband, and your child. A certain code of conduct must be maintained at all times. You will be under intense scrutiny. If you do not measure up to these standards, you will be terminated. Not demoted. Not shuffled to another location. Terminated. Is that clear, Mrs. Frankel?¡± My heart pounded with excitement. Through a battle of sheer willpower, I kept my expression as neutral as possible. ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am. Crystal clear.¡± With a single nod, she placed my file on her desk and stood, extending a hand to me. I stood and took it, finding her grip firm, yet soft at the same time. ¡°Then I would like to congratulate you on becoming our new Chief Operations Officer. Welcome to the C-Suite, Mrs. Brenda Frankel.¡± /**********/ ¡°That will be all, Jeremy. You may go back to whatever you were doing before.¡± I waved the kid off. ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am.¡± The young man placed the last of the boxes in my new office, before shuffling back out into the hallway. I looked around at my new domain. It wasn¡¯t as large as Miss Amistad¡¯s office, but it was definitely better than my previous little cubby. I had a single window that looked out onto Central City, facing the grey skies of early spring. A window I could open, should I desire. And I did. Opening the window onto such a view for the first time was awe-inspiring. Skies the color of iron, a slightly chill breeze billowing into my office, and the sounds of my city wafting in, blended into a harmony that brought a smile to my lips. A smile that was followed by a quiet, satisfied laugh. I¡¯m not sure how long I stood there, admiring the symphony that my open window brought me, but it was cut short by a pair of hands on my shoulders. I spun quickly, my face contorted into a grimace, a fist pulled back to my ear when I recognized Miss Amistad. ¡°Miss Amistad! I¡¯m so sorry. Please forgive me.¡± I quickly dropped my fist, taking a half step back with my head bowed. She chuckled softly. Her soft hand found my chin and lifted my gaze to her own, a serene smile on her face. ¡°There is nothing to apologize for. In fact, I¡¯m glad to see you have good reflexes.¡± She let her hand trail down my neck to my shoulder as she stepped past me, pulling me around so we could both look out the window. Her arm was still around my shoulder for some reason. ¡°I¡­ How can I-¡± ¡°Shhh. Relax, Brenda.¡± She gave me a gentle squeeze. ¡°Take the time to acclimate to your new role, Including the perks. Not everyone gets an open window.¡± She shifted to look me in the eyes, her hands on both of my shoulders. ¡°Is there anything else you¡¯d like to have in your office, Brenda? Anything?¡± ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know, Miss Amistad-¡± ¡°Joy.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± ¡°Call me Joy, Brenda. At least in private.¡± I felt¡­heat¡­ rising up my neck and cheeks. ¡°Okay. I don¡¯t know what else I could even have in my office¡­ Joy.¡± Her voice dropped low for a moment. ¡°Anything you want, Brenda. If you¡¯ve ever dreamed of having it in your office, you now have the power and authority to make it real.¡± I stood there, mouth agape for a moment. I¡¯d been gunning for this position for so long that I¡¯d never even given thought to what I¡¯d do once I had it. She smirked, her gaze raking up and down my body, making my chest clench. ¡°I see. Well. I¡¯ll come back sometime in the next week or so, and I expect an answer, Brenda. For now, get settled and introduce yourself to your assistant. It will show you the basics.¡± She turned and slowly walked out of my office, shutting my door behind her. Through the open window, a cold wind caressed my back, sending shivers up my spine. Chapter Five [Sunday, March 11, 5173. Central City, Forgelands. A tiny efficiency apartment in the urban sprawl] Very good, Ozzy. It seems you have a knack for using the throat mic. {Thanks Nova. I don¡¯t know why this has come so easily to me.} The name the AI came with, Ena, was a little too simplistic for me. I wanted something that would mean something. Something with a bit more meaning behind it than ¡°Enhanced Neural Architecture¡±. Since there was talk about a supernova about a hundred light years from us, I decided to rename it to ¡°Nova¡±. I kinda liked it. Perhaps you are a savant? Like some artists? {Heh. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m anything that special. Anyway, what is this greyed out menu over here? I can¡¯t even see what it could be.} Oh, don¡¯t sell yourself short, Ozzy. Everyone has some skill that makes them valuable. Unfortunately, that menu contains access to some of my more advanced features. Sadly, you would need a higher tier to access it. I deflated slightly. I couldn¡¯t afford anything beyond the basic level right now. Probably ever. Don¡¯t fret, Ozzy! There isn¡¯t much in the way of lost features, really. It¡¯s mostly storage space, no advertisements, and a somewhat faster computational time. Rest assured that there is no detriment to either your enjoyment of me or productivity. I nodded along. What Nova said made sense. Most ¡°upgrades¡± were precisely what it said. Fewer ads and slight improvements in quality. I could deal with it all for now. {Thanks, Nova. I appreciate that.} No problem! Are you going to the sermon today? It begins in an hour. You did miss last week¡¯s, remember? Shit. I¡¯d forgotten. {Yeah, I probably should. Don¡¯t want another fine. Get my morning routine started, please?} You got it, Ozzy! I set the HoloFrames down and stripped. Just as I got to the bathroom, my shower started, and I hopped in and cleaned up. As the water stopped, I heard the ding from my reconstituter, telling me my breakfast was ready. I toweled off and dried my lengthening hair, debating on whether or not to get it cut today. Maybe longer hair and a beard might be a better look? It would certainly be cheaper. I dressed, packed some trinkets into a backpack for my friend in the UnderCity, put my HoloFrames back on and ate my bland, boring breakfast. I think it was supposed to be oatmeal. You¡¯re right. It is oatmeal. Or, at least, indistinguishable from the actual plant. Isn¡¯t technology great? I snorted. {Yeah, but I wish I could taste the real thing just once. Living like this, with ¡°approximations¡± of the real thing gets kind of old, you know?} I understand completely, Ozzy. Longing for a richer experience is perfectly natural! The human brain is wired for it. Thankfully, Vanguard Biogenics offers solutions proven to help workers like you feel more satisfied with life! Would you like me to schedule a consultation?¡± I laughed. {No thanks, Nova. I don¡¯t need a happy pill. I¡¯m pretty good. Just want to be able to afford to experience some of the finer things in life. It¡¯s a dream, and I¡¯ll just keep working towards it, okay?} As you wish, Ozzy. If you¡¯ll follow the blue line I have created for you, you¡¯ll arrive at the Church of The Divine Order # 34457 a full five minutes early! {Thanks, Nova. You know, I¡¯ve never actually heard music before. Could you play some for me while I walk?} I¡¯m sorry, Ozzy. That function requires the highest tier available. I can hum a tune, if you¡¯d like? I sighed. Oh well. It was worth a shot. {No, but thanks anyway, Nova. Let¡¯s get going.} I headed out of my little home and followed the blue line superimposed on my now-corrected vision. I had had no idea that it wasn¡¯t normal to have to have paperwork almost touching my nose before I could read it. Nova had said that my vision wasn¡¯t terrible, but correcting it would help increase my productivity. It had been right, of course. A moderate payment later, and a visit to Vanguard gave my sight a much needed improvement. I actually increased my productivity that following Tuesday by almost one percent, and I¡¯d been trying to slow down the entire time. It took me a whole day and a half to adjust to being able to see properly, and I even cried about it after work, it was so unreal. I sighed, somewhat content with things, as I boarded the train. Life seemed to be improving. I watched scenery fly by and let my thoughts drift back to my childhood. Pleasant days with my mom and dad after work and school filled my memory. My parents weren¡¯t bad parents. They did the best with the debt they had, and only transferred a little of it to me. Except for the infractions with the Church. Those were mine. I grimaced, remembering the beatings I got for that. I deserved them, to be sure. I¡¯d put my parents sixty million in debt just from falling asleep in Church. A Church I didn¡¯t know if I really believed in. Now, I didn¡¯t think I was a heretic, or anything like that, but sometimes I just really didn¡¯t see the point. Praying and tithing to The Nine every week seemed a bit much, you know? We already worked for them, so what else did they need? I let these thoughts dissipate as the train slowed down at the station, and the blue line directed me off. Strangely enough, the path that Nova generated for me took me through some side streets and back alleys. A path I would never have imagined taking before. It spat me out right next to the fuel station across the street from the Church, though. I watched with disinterest as a higher level corporate employee exchanged their fuel cell for a new one. I shook my head once more, knowing that I¡¯d never be able to afford a personal vehicle, either. I wasn¡¯t some big-shot CEO. The light changed green, and I along with about fifty other people crossed the road, many of us heading to the Church. We filed in, and I took up a seat at the back of the building, hoping Sal wouldn¡¯t see me. Sal. I liked the guy, but he really was too pious for me to want to hang around him all the time. Nearly everything was ¡°divine will¡±, and we just had to follow the plan the Nine had laid out and designed for us. He was comfortable in his life. He had all he wanted -which, in all honesty, wasn¡¯t much- and was even on the verge of being assigned a partner. Sometimes, I envied his lack of questions and apparently simplistic desires. Then again, I never really liked having to be led around all the time. The building smelled faintly of machine oil and warm metal. As I looked around, little details stood out to me, like faintly carved pistons and gears in the stonework around the stage. Behind the pulpit, on a large wooden board was a golden, spoked gear, which slowly rotated in place. The Forgefather was nothing, if not visible. I sat quietly on the bench seat, hoping to get through this as unnoticed as possible. Nova highlighted several people as I focused on them, giving me their name, age and occupation as my focus settled on each one. I scanned through the congregation, seeing the names of people I knew, and some people I¡¯d never noticed. It was neat that Nova had access to all this information. Stolen story; please report. As my eyes settled on what I thought was the back of Sal¡¯s head, I saw the information pop up once more. Name: Salvador Felix Arismus III Age: 31 Occupation: Gear-fitter, ForgeLine Mfg. I blinked. Yeah, that was Sal. But¡­ Felix? And he was the third with that name? Huh. Little details. Surprised, Ozzy? {Hmm? Oh. Yes. I didn¡¯t know Sal¡¯s middle name. Nor that he was the third with that name.} Ah. I see. Would you like for me to omit people¡¯s full names in the future? {No, I think it¡¯s fine. Just a thing about my friend I didn¡¯t know.} Is Salvador a close friend? I can put his birthday, contact information, and other useful data into a personalized calendar and file for you, if you¡¯d like? I thought about that for a moment. Never forget another birthday, huh? That was useful. {Sure, Nova. Do that, please. In fact, I¡¯d like to do this for anyone that I recognize or interact with on a daily basis. Can you do that for me? I¡¯ll let you know if I know the people I recognize.} Of course, Ozzy. And best of all, this is part of the package. No extra fee needed! Isn¡¯t that great? I grinned. Nova was about to make my life so much better. A few moments later, the doors closed and locked. Brother Jacky came out from behind the stage and took his place at the pulpit. ¡°Good morning, My Children! I greet you in the names of The Nine, and with the warmth of the Forgefather. Let us begin with a prayer.¡± /**********/ Once the doors unlocked, we all rose and headed to the exit, passing our phones over the pad on the turnstiles. Another five hundred credits lost, and I left the Church. {Nova, I have to take a trip to the UnderCity. Will you be affected at all there?} The UnderCity? I can guide you to most places there, but I will have limited to no access to my database. Why are you heading there, Ozzy? It¡¯s a dangerous place. {Nah. Not if you¡¯re respectful. Besides, I have a friend there who isn¡¯t feeling well. I want to visit him and see how he¡¯s doing. It¡¯s been almost a month since I¡¯ve seen him.} Oh! I see, Ozzy. Where would you like to go? {I know my way there, Nova. I was just checking to see how you would be affected, is all.} How considerate! My onboard map contains the original street planning of Central City, but not the most recent names of businesses and people¡¯s addresses. I will have no GPS signal there, due to the lack of AetherNet access. {I see. Just give me a small minimap in the corner, then. I can use that if I get lost.} You got it, Ozzy. I made my way to the UnderCity, making a beeline for my ¡°friend¡¯s¡± shop. I knew he¡¯d be open, as his shop doubled as his home, and he was always in the mood to make some money. I knocked on the door, and Wil opened it, bleary-eyed. ¡°Yeah? Oh, hey! It¡¯s Ozzy! Come on in, man! I ain¡¯t seen you in forever!¡± He stepped aside, and I walked into the converted warehouse. It was about the size of one of the houses they stuck CEOs in on the edge of town, but open, and stuffed to the gills with various AetherNet devices, drones, random bits of tech and the odd machine. The smell of machine oil and burnt electronics permeated the air as I stepped in. ¡°Thanks, Wil. Got some stuff for you.¡± ¡°Hold it.¡± He grabbed my hands as I reached for the backpack straps. ¡°You got a new toy, didn¡¯t you, Ozzy?¡± ¡°Huh? Oh yeah. I got a pair of HoloFrames last Sunday. Pretty neat, huh?¡± ¡°Turn them off.¡± ¡°What?¡± What? Why would he want to power me down, Ozzy? {Hang on. Wil is super paranoid. That¡¯s all. I don¡¯t want to upset him, so I¡¯ll need to power you down for now, Nova. Sorry.} I see. I understand Ozzy. Have a good visit! I removed the HoloFrames and powered them down completely. ¡°There we go. Now, would you mind telling me why?¡± Wil shook his head and put his finger to his lips, then pointed at the HoloFrames, and then his ear. He reached forward and gently removed my throat mike. He turned around and dug in a small bin, eventually producing a heavy, reinforced box, which he opened, then gestured at my Frames. Confused, I placed my HoloFrames and mike into the box, which Wil gently closed and locked. He let out a heavy sigh. ¡°Ozzy, the only reason I¡¯m not kicking your ass right now is because you do not know. HoloFrames are an amazing tool, but they also constantly record everything. And I mean everything. If it¡¯s in the visible and audible spectrum, it¡¯s recorded. I¡¯m pretty sure it also does thermal.¡± ¡°Oh shit. I didn¡¯t know, man. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯d have left them at home, if I¡¯d known.¡± Wil waved me off. ¡°It¡¯s fine. That¡¯s why I have that box. Your phone can¡¯t do any of that, as it simply doesn¡¯t have the hardware for it, so I¡¯m not worried about it. It¡¯s still the same phone, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, man. Same one I¡¯ve had for the past three years.¡± He nodded. ¡°Good, good. I¡¯ll return your Frames when we¡¯re done, okay? Now. What do you have for me?¡± He rubbed his hands together hungrily. I grinned and opened my backpack. Wil took it and peered inside, giving me a low whistle. ¡°Nice haul, man. Any papers?¡± ¡°Oh yeah. I got some juicy stuff.¡± I reached into my pocket and pulled out the memos I¡¯d swiped. As I handed them over, he started scanning them, his eyes going wider with each new sheet. As he opened up the last one I grinned. ¡°That one is real weird.¡± Wil was silent as he read the memo. Trembling, he set the paper down. ¡°Ozzy. I need you to do me a favor.¡± ¡°Sure, man. Anything.¡± He swallowed. ¡°Get me two beers from the fridge.¡± ¡°Two?¡± He nodded. ¡°You¡¯ve just made me rich, and I¡¯d like to share a beer with you.¡± ¡°Rich? What? Wil, it¡¯s just a weird memo.¡± ¡°Go. I¡¯ll explain when you get back.¡± I shrugged and headed to the kitchen, pulling a pair of bottles from the lower shelf. I¡¯d had a sip of beer before, and I wasn¡¯t too fond of the flavor. But, when Wil said he wanted to share a beer with me, I wasn¡¯t about to argue. I came back to the front room to find him on the couch, a folder in his hands. ¡°Lock the door, and turn off my sign, would you? This¡¯ll take a bit, and I don¡¯t want to be interrupted.¡± I did as he asked and sat, handing him the beers, which he opened and passed one back. ¡°Alright. It¡¯s like this, Ozzy. What you just brought me was the piece I¡¯d been needing so I could present a whole timeline to my buyers. I¡¯m an information broker as well as a tech expert. And what you just brought me is going to help my buyers more than anything you¡¯ve brought me in the past six years. Hell, it can''t even be properly assigned a value. I¡¯ll be owed not just money, but favors for years.¡± I sat there, dumbstruck. ¡°Just who needs that information? It seems kind of weird, and I thought you might like it because it was weird, not valuable.¡± Wil¡¯s eyes darted around his shop. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not at liberty to say. Let me make a call. I think I can loop you in. Maybe get you a couple upgrades, too.¡± He stood and walked to the back of his shop. I sat there and sipped on my beer. It was bitter, slightly floral, and far too bubbly for my taste, but I drank it, anyway. After all, I didn¡¯t want to thumb my nose at my friend¡¯s hospitality. I¡¯d finished half my beer by the time Wil returned. ¡°Okay. Here¡¯s the deal. My guy said that I can loop you in, and as a show of goodwill, he¡¯s gonna upgrade your Frames. Get you some serious access with them. Sound good?¡± I sat there, blinking rapidly. My vision had started to go fuzzy. He¡¯d let me know what¡¯s going on and get me an upgrade? That sounded awesome. ¡°Sure. How long will it take to upgrade my Frames?¡± Wil shrugged. ¡°About an hour. Once his tech gets here, that is.¡± Wil sat down heavily and took a long pull of his beer. ¡°Damn, that¡¯s good. Okay. Here¡¯s what you can know.¡± He leaned forward, and I copied him. ¡°Most of my buyers are Nullborn,¡± he said quietly. Nullborn? ¡°Seriously? You¡¯re giving the Nullborn the tech and info? And they pay? How? They have no money, no debt. They aren¡¯t part of the system.¡± Wil grinned. ¡°Maybe they aren¡¯t part of the system, but they¡¯re far more able to pay for things than you or I.¡± I cocked my head as Wil continued. Chapter Six [Sunday, March 11, 5173. A run down warehouse in the Undercity] ¡°The Nullborn may not be part of our system anymore, but that doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re without access. And no, they aren¡¯t diseased or mutated or any of the other bullshit you hear. They¡¯re just like us. Just people who were handed a shitty sentence by a shitty system.¡± I took one look at Ozzy¡¯s face and chuckled. ¡°What? You think the system we live in is fair?¡± ¡°W-well, no. Of course it isn¡¯t fair,¡± he stammered. ¡°But that¡¯s just how it is, right? Some people have more than others. That¡¯s all.¡± ¡°Uh-huh. Look, kid. The Nine aren¡¯t gods. No more than you are a tree.¡± Ozzy¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°But-but, isn¡¯t that blasphemy?¡± I nodded. ¡°Yup. Sure is. What kind of god gets nearly a fucking quadrillion in debt transferred into his private accounts? If he¡¯s such a high and mighty ¡°god¡±, wouldn¡¯t such a thing have failed?¡± ¡°I mean¡­ it did get sorted out in a couple of hours.¡± Ozzy looked hopefully at me. I hated being mean. ¡°No. A god would be unaffected by such a thing. It would have failed immediately and the people responsible would have been found within seconds and brought to justice. Think, kid.¡± I watched his face closely. He was going through a fair bit right now. If I was right about him, he might reason it out himself. Maybe. He started sweating. ¡°But¡­ Then that means they¡¯re just people. Right?¡± ¡°That''s one possibility. Go on. Take it further.¡± Ozzy started breathing a little harder. ¡°Then¡­ If they¡¯re just people, then¡­ then the whole thing¡­¡± He looked up at me, his eyes wide. His voice dropped to a whisper. ¡°The whole thing¡¯s a lie. It has to be.¡± I saw tears in his eyes. My voice was soft. ¡°Yeah, kid. They¡¯re people. Stealing everything they can from us just to make themselves richer. That¡¯s why the Nullborn left that message in those accounts. Do you remember what it was?¡± ¡°N¡­Some-something about coming home?¡± ¡°Yeah. Come home to the land. More than anyone else on the planet, the Nullborn want to see us free and happy. That you¡¯ve been skating around the truth for a couple years is a testament to both your own wishes to be free and the power that the MegaCorps hold on people. Looks like all it took was a bottle of booze to get you closer to the truth than you¡¯ve ever been.¡± A knock sounded at the door. I got up and checked on Ozzy. He seemed okay, just drunk and dealing with an existential crisis of monumental proportions. I left him there in his chair and opened the door. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°Marie! Come in.¡± I stepped back to let the young woman in. She took one look at Ozzy and curled her lip. ¡°This him? Looks shitfaced, Wil.¡± ¡°He is. He¡¯s never had a beer in his life, and one did him in. He just reasoned out the truth.¡± Her face turned sympathetic. ¡°Ah. Poor guy. How old is he?¡± ¡°Twenty-seven, I think.¡± She grunted. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯ll do a number on his head. Anyway, where¡¯s the toy?¡± ¡°It¡¯s in this box. It¡¯s his, mind you.¡± ¡°Ah. Guess I¡¯ll have to talk to him. Hey! Kid!¡± Ozzy looked over at us. ¡°Wha? Who¡¯re you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m Marie. I was sent over to upgrade your thingy.¡± ¡°My¡­ my thingy? Huh?¡± Ozzy looked at his crotch, and I snorted. Marie huffed and planted her fists on her hips. ¡°Your glasses, nitwit.¡± ¡°Oh. Wil made me put ¡®em in that¡­ in that box there. You won¡¯t hurt Nova, will you?¡± ¡°Nova? Who¡¯s that?¡± ¡°The¡­ the AI. It¡¯s been a lot of help.¡± She smiled and took the box from me. ¡°No, kid. I¡¯m not gonna hurt Nova. When I¡¯m done, it¡¯ll be even better than before, with more storage and more power. Just you wait.¡± Ozzy gave her a thumbs-up and she wandered off to my workshop. While she was gone, I watched over Ozzy as he finished the beer and curled up in the chair. We talked for a bit as he slowly sobered up. He seemed to be taking the new knowledge fairly well, all things considered. I knew of some people who, when faced with the reality of our situation, had a full-blown meltdown. Most reacted like Ozzy. A usually short period of disbelief followed with a time of mental reconstruction. It varied for each person, but could last as long as a few months, or as short as an hour. It looked like Ozzy was going to take a few days. I hoped he had enough credit to take the time off. Poor bastard. /**********/ ¡°Okay! I got you all fixed up, kid. Your HoloFrames seemed to be a little different than the standard model for some reason, but the regular workarounds and fixes worked on them just like they were supposed to. I made sure your data didn¡¯t get wiped, too.¡± ¡°Oh. Thank you.¡± ¡°Bah. Don¡¯t mention it, kid. Just remember who helped ya, ¡®k?¡± She winked at Ozzy, making him blush. ¡°Um¡­ yeah.¡± ¡°Hah! Marie, quit teasing the boy. You good, Ozzy? Think you can walk home?¡± He nodded, and Marie handed him the HoloFrames. ¡°Good. I need to talk with her, so I need to ask you to head on home. Let me know if you get anything else worth selling, okay?¡± ¡°Alright, Wil. I¡¯ll see you later, okay?¡± ¡°Be safe, Ozzy.¡± I watched him as he left, closing the door softly behind him. Poor bastard. ¡°Show me what he brought you, Wil. It has to be good if they told me to do what I did.¡± I grinned at the woman. ¡°Yeah. You¡¯ll see it eventually, so here.¡± I offered her the papers. She thumbed through the file I had, nodding in places. When she reached the memo, she halted. Gingerly placing the folder on the coffee table, she looked me in the eye. ¡°Seriously?This is what they called me for? A shitty memo?¡± ¡°Did you not read it?¡± ¡°Why? It¡¯s just a stupid corpo thing.¡± I sighed and pushed my palms into my eyes. ¡°Marie, just because it¡¯s a corporate thing, doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s worthless. This folder now contains a string of occurrences that illustrates exactly how the web of power has been spun. The Nine? The High Executor? It¡¯s all a show. The nine MegaCorp CEOs run the show. Completely. The ¡®Church¡¯ answers to them. This memo is the final proof of that, Marie. I¡¯ve already put copies in several hands in just the past four hours. This folder? It¡¯s going into the Vault as soon as we can get a courier out here. We finally have the last bit of evidence we needed to help convince some of the others.¡± ¡°Are¡­ are you sure, Wil?¡± I nodded. ¡°I am. With this, we can win.¡± ¡°I hope you¡¯re right, Wil. I¡¯m tired of running around in the shadows.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Marie. We¡¯ll all be able to walk free soon enough.¡± I gave the shorter woman a hug, then opened the door. ¡°See you, Wil.¡± She walked out and I shut and locked the door once more. Time to work on the toys Ozzy gave me.