Fifth Chapter

Lewis Key

The nametag on his uniform said Lew. Try as he might Lewis could not stop people from calling him Lew.  He found this annoying.  Just about everything annoyed Lewis. He worked for PPC or Privatized Package Curriers.  Lew however was not a currier; he worked the front desk at one of the outlets, customer service.  Lewis thought that customer service was annoying.  Currently it was he was sitting out the slow time between three am and five thirty, when the early birds went out after the worm.  The rush was still about twenty minuets away.  Lewis was not sure the boredom of nothing happing, was better or worse then the line of impatient go-getters.

They were both annoying.

Then it happened the first customer.  A larger woman, her black hair whipped up into a rushed bun, wearing a conservative skirt suit.  She was all business; the whole transaction was done with out a word being spoken.  Lewis liked customers like this.  They knew what they were about, and he could do his job.  His job was simple; when someone wanted to send a package, and not have it opened, they came into PPC.  Lew took their money and in exchange sent said package on its intended way.  That was it.  PPC provided a computer which when connected to a scale could, if provided the correct information, would tell exactly how much it would cost to send the package wherever it needed to go.  The only thing Lew had to do was say whether the package was an envelope or a box.  His other tasks were to make sure he gave the correct change, and then make sure the customer entered the recipient’s information properly.  There it was his three tasks: envelop vs. box; don’t lose money; and then try to protect the customers from themselves.

The first customer was not the norm; no unfortunately most people had a very hard time with directions.  To Lewis it seemed simple all you really needed was a item to ship and an address for it to go to, and money to pay for it.  The next customer that walked in brought an envelope full of money.

“I need this to go to my mom, in the N3uu4oR77 cluster.” The man said.  “Its very important that it reach her tomorrow.”

“Ok sir,” Lew said, trying to sound chipper. He sealed the envelope and placed it on the scale. “All right, that was N3w”

“Not w, u..u.”

“OH! Uu, 4oR, I don’t remember the last digests.”

“Uhn, N,3,uu,4oR.  Seven seven.”

“Ok, that’s been inputted, whats the rest of the address?”

“Whadda mean?”

How do you answer a question like that, a single cluster could have up to four or five million people, generally three million individual addresses.

“You know, like, her street address, what number her house is.  Stuff like that.”

“She lives in an old folks home.”

Did this guy not really know what an address is.  Now a line was starting to form, the next person in line was a cute girl.  She was looking at her watch like maybe this errand wasn’t as crucial as it other tasks.  Time to get past this guy, carefully, how annoying.

“Sir, if you don’t know the address I can’t send your package.  We’re open twenty-four seven, you should call your mom and get the address, if you do it before three thirty it will get there tomorrow for sure.”

“Are you giving me lip SON, I am a paying customer, just send it to my mom in cluster N3uu4oR77.  I want to speak with your manager.”

Customers always seemed to think that these were the magic words to get what they wanted.  Maybe in other situations that was the case but they did not get much traction here.

“I Am the Manager.”  Lew did get a little thrill saying that, knowing that it totally flipped the power dynamic.  Then after a pause and to try and soften the blow, he gestured to the four walls and few piles of boxes and a desk that comprised the store.  Clearly there was no one else here.

“I’m sorry sir, if I send it the way it is it will not reach her.  If you want to make sure it gets to your mom we need the rest of the address. Make sure you get it here before three thirty and it will still get there tomorrow.”  Lew then turned to the next customer.  “I can help whose next, step right up, what can I help you with?”

The man stood with his envelope clutched to his chest.  The next customer was not the cute girl but some old man.  For a moment Lew thought that the man was going to push the old man out of the way.  But he didn’t, which was kind of too bad; that would have been entertaining.  The line that had built up stayed punctuating the morning rush.  Annoying.  Fortunately most people in line were regulars or at least knew what the address was.  So the rush passed with only a little grumbling about raised rates.  Till just after seven, the next shift had just come in and there was about fifteen minutes left before Lew could leave.  So of course that’s when it happened.

She was hot, and she dressed the part.  She was wearing a very tight business suit, and she wore it well, very well.  She walked straight up to the desk in the controlled wave that of a women with very high heels.  Lew knew that the timing was too good, and she was too hot, this could only mean trouble.  The first and primary challenge was to make, and keep, eye contact.  Don’t look down.

“Good morning, how can I help you to day?” Don’t look down.  Wait till the right moment.

“I would like to ship this envelope, the address is written on the cover.”  Her voice was husky and quite, so he had to lean in a little to hear her.

This was the moment, and he took the envelope, he let his eyes wonder, just a little.  It was amazing.  He quickly looked up to her eyes, realized that he was not holding anything.  While he had been scoping her out, he had been looking to grab an envelope, so he had dropped the box she put in his hand.  He picked it up off the counter.

“You want me to send this as an envelope?”  Lew held up the box.  “Please tell me that you at least know that this is not an envelope?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said with a mocking innocence.

“If I try to send it as an envelope some one else will see that it is clearly not one, and send it back.  I would like to help you but it just will get sent back.”

She leaned forward towards him and whispered, Lew leaned in even closer to hear her.  “Maybe that’s just what I want.”

He leaned back.  He could see no reason not to do that, not if that was what she wanted, it was good customer service.  Not only that but she leaned over the counter as he entered the information into his computer, it was a great show and he tried to draw out the whole interaction.  Not a bad way to end his shift.  He left the store with some small level of satisfaction.  Normally he would have just gone home.  But today it just seemed too oppressive to go from the four close walls of his work to the four small walls of his apartment.  The plaza where Lew worked was as close to bright as it got now.  Everywhere Lewis looked there were people moving about; shopping, chatting, generally going about their lives.   Most other days Lewis would have found them all annoying.  They would seem to step in front of him and then walk slowly, getting in his way.  The kids would all make noise and whine.  Normally he would have done anything to avoid this whole scene.  For some reason he felt the want to join in.   Then he remembered why.  Nutrua came out today.   He didn’t know much about what it was, but then no one seemed to know much about it.  All he did know was that it was supposed to change the face of gaming and he wanted to be on the crest of that wave.    

The only store in the plaza that held any interest was the electronic store.  Lewis considered himself a gamer, and this store always had the new hot releases.  As he walked across the parking lot he remembered that the store wouldn’t be open quite yet.  But he had nowhere else to be so he sat down on one of the benches next to the door to wait.  Maybe he would get a few moments of shuteye.   That would be hard though he was pretty excited about this new game.  He had seen the previews on TV; the first two had not done much for him.  They showed some nice landscape and some dude in a cape.  But the third one really caught his attention.

The third commercial was full of violence the dude in a cape, ripped into three goons using a quarterstaff.  There was no blood but the brutality, or the opportunity for brutality, was clear.  The commercial ended with the three goons broken on the ground, unmoving.  The stranger in the video turned to the audience and challenged them. “Can you be the best?” He grinned before the screen went dark.  Lewis took the challenge personal, he would be the best; he was going to take out all his anger and frustration out on anybody that entered his domain.

“Hey! You!”

Lewis was snapped out of his blissful daydream of brutal domination by some lanky nerd, “what?” he tried to say calmly. “What do you want?”

“Can’t you see there is a line? I have been here for three days.  You can’t just cut in line.”  The nerd whined.

Lewis though the nerds voice was annoying.    He had dark skin and dark hair that fell over his eyes.   He would have seemed tall if he was standing up straight but he had hunched his shoulders and kind of tucked his neck and head down.   There was a tent set up, with bags and trash strewn about.  From the look of the campsite it did not take any stretch of the imagination to think the guy had really been here for three day.  However there was no one else waiting.

“What line? I only see you, its not going to sell out with just two of us.  What does it matter?”  Lewis knew that he was baiting the guy, but it annoyed him that he had to deal with this annoying guy when he could have been sleeping.  Or at least dozing.

“Fine, you’re right I can see that I’m being a little ridiculous, I’m sorry.  But I just really wanted to be the first person into Nurtrua.  I mean, do you mind?”

“Whatever.”

“Great, thanks so much.  It really means a lot to me.” Then reading Lewis name written on his work uniform. “Its nice to meet you Lew, my name is Eddie.”  Could the guy be any more annoying?

“It’s Lewis.”  Upon meeting his competition, he was thinking this is going to be easier then he thought.  Lewis hoped that not all the player were going to be losers like this guy, know how the world worked they probably would be. How annoying.

“Oh, well its nice to meet you.” Eddie extended his hand for a shake.  Lewis had no intention of shaking anybodies hand, and just ignored it.  They sat in silence for a few.  Then the sound of the lock clicking and the automatic door slid open with a hum.  Eddie sprang up, and leaped for the door.  The store employee blocked his path.

“My manager says that you can’t come in until you clean up all you’re trash.”

“What!? Common I just want the TAP.  I promise that I’ll clean it all up when I’m done.” Eddie was not far from begging.  His voice was still annoying.

“No.  My manager said that I couldn’t let you in until it’s clean. I’m sorry there is nothing I can do, you don’t want me to get in trouble.”  The employee was obviously enjoying this, and so was Lewis. Eddie turned from the door with a sob and ran to his tent.  Lewis slowly got up and with a smirk strolled into the store.       

Fourth Chapter

Phil Tifesys

Phil sat down in the chair behind his desk with a sigh.  The classroom was empty, the echo of lost potential ringing in the silence broken only by the ticking of the over sized wall clock.  The class had not gone well.  The kids had not misbehaved really they had just decided that they were not going to learn anything.  The sat through out the whole semester mashing away at their mobiles under their desks.  The school had ruled two years ago that teachers could not confiscate mobile devices.  That was that, the kids just tuned out.

Phil had tried to find a way the incorporate the mobiles into his class, but the kids would just block him.  At one time Phil really liked his job, he was a young teacher with a slightly radical bent.  He had tried to stay current with the pop-culture; he genuinely tried to reach the kids.  Some how a long the way things had changed.  After this class it would have been easy to blame the current generation.  But Phil knew that was a bit of a cop out.  He walked out to his car trying to separate the taste of frustration from the taste of guilt.

He merged with traffic out of the staff parking lot, and set the autopilot.  Instead of brewing on the class, Phil when over all the things that he had to be happy about, the class was over no use thinking any more about it.  He closed his eyes and opened them as his car pulled in to the driveway.  Coming home never failed to cheer him up.  The house was huge with eight bedrooms and almost as many bathrooms, closets and hidden nooks.  With a large front AND backyards.  What was not to love?

Opening the door Phil was buffeted with sound.  Three children ran past so fast that Phil was unable identify weather they were his or not.  Chuck, one of the other husbands that lived in the house, following the fleeing children slapped Phil on the shoulder.

“Congrats on the start of your vacation!”

Then he was out the door.  Phil started to walk towards the kitchen, where the majority of the clatter and chatter was coming from.  Halfway through the entryway he was hit from the side.

“Daddy!”

 Marley slammed in to Phil’s leg and latched on. Slowly he lifted up his foot and took a step, she giggled.  Another step, more giggles.  It was in a cloud of giggles, and a few chortles that Phil walked in to his kitchen. Penny, his wife stood in a kitchen that was completely trashed.  Flower coated every surface.  Every surface had dough draped across it straight from Salvador Dali’s melting clocks.  In one corner a dog was lapping up tomato sauce.  The cause of the mess was clear, two girls and a boy were franticly throwing balls of dough in to the air.  The some of these balls were spreading out to become disks, the others not so much.  But all three UFOs were sending flower and a few chunks of dough in every direction. 

In a flash, and without missing a giggle, Marley was separated from Phil’s leg and throwing dough with reckless abandon.  Among it all stood Penny, lovely Penny, covered in flour. Her smile was radiant as she overlooked the chaos that was going to be dinner.

“Hello dear how was your last class?”  Penny asked as she turned that beautiful smile, topped with two shining eyes, towards Phil.

“I’m glad it’s done,” Phil signed, Penny took two big steps and hugged him.

“Did the big bad teenagers beat up on you,” she said in a sing-songy voice.

“No nothing like that.  This whole semester they have been…I don’t know, tuned out.  These last two weeks have been the worse.  The whole semester was bad, but recently they would only talk about this Nutrua, whatever that is.   I mean, they wrote all the papers I assigned, all their work was turned in on time.  But all I needed to do was go online and run a search for the topic and I could find the website that they plagiarized from.  They would change some of the words and move some of the sentences around; the only work they really did the whole time was to alter their papers so I couldn’t bust them for plagiarism.  Which if I wanted to I totally could if I wanted to bust my entire class.”

“Well look on the bright side, they did learn how to find the information online, they know how to find it when they need it.  Just think how much info there is at all these kids fingertips.”

“Yeah maybe your right, maybe that’s what I should focus on, not so much the info but how to find and use it, and when you need it.”

“Marley don’t put that in your mouth, its not cooked yet,” Penny turned towards the children in the kitchen, “Honey I have to oversee topping these pies then see them into the oven, dinner should be ready in about a half an hour.”

“I don’t think that I’ll be here for dinner, I want to go visit Ben tonight.”

Theresa, Chuck’s better half walked into the room. “Theresa could you help the kids get the dinner in the oven?” Asked Penny, “I have to discuss something with my foolish husband.”

With that she took Phil’s hand and led him from the room.  “Why are you looking for your brother for? I hate when you go down there.  Plus he’s a terrible human being.  You remember what he did.”

“I know but he is my brother, what he did, and I understand how it impacted us, but really he is a different person since he has gone Below.  It was the power and attention, that changes a man.”

“Whatever, don’t make excuses for that jerk.  He was a pimp, then he ruined my career.”

“A pimp is a bit strong don’t you think.”

“No I don’t think!” Penny’s voice had started to climb; she took a deep breath, and then continued in a softer tone.  “Honey he was using young girls who came to him for help, and had them sleep with politicians for ‘gifts’ and contracts.  Worse he used me to arrest anyone who tried to compete with him, and when one of his girls said she was going to go to the news he tried to have me kill her.  Don’t you remember I used to do real police work, not this behind a desk CRAP!?”

Once again Penny’s voice had risen in pitch.  Phil held up his hands in a sign of surrender.  “You’re right of course.  What the guy did was inexcusable I wont defend his actions.  But I keep hearing these reports of the disenfranchised that live below are disappearing.  Ben was writing me letters at least twice a week I haven’t received a letter from him in over a month.  I’m starting to get concerned, more then concerned I’m starting to freak out.”

“Fine, you should go find him, and when you do, tell him no more letters.  You want him out of our life. But you should make sure that he is all right.  Just don’t stay overnight, I hate when you sleep down there.”

Phil pulled his wife to him and kissed her.  He tried to step away but she grabbed his arms and pulled him in for a longer more intense kiss.  “Just be safe, ok?”

Phil went upstairs and changed, off came his clean school cloths.  He pulled on an old set of torn jeans, and a stained button down flannel shirt.  Over that he put on the cameo-jacket that came from a wilder time from his past.   He finished off the look by rubbing a little bit of shoe polish on the backs of his hands and on his cheeks.  He looked in the mirror and appraised his outfit, it was not perfect and to really fit in where he was going he should smell worse, but it would do.   Anyways where he was going nobody paid attention to who you were or what you were wearing. 

He then dove for about a half and hour.  The sprawl that had grown to be called The City was massive and with a multiplicity of levels, to many to count.  As a rule the higher the tier the more money there was.  The lower levels the more poverty.  Nobody had a clear idea of how many tiers there were, everyone knew that there was a lowest level.  A level so low that it was just called The Below, this level was reserved for those who dropped out of society.  Some had dropped out by choice others had been forced out, like Josh.  The insane and the forgotten all found their way down to The Below.   Ben had “found” his way after the massive scandal rocked his life.

Phil and his family unit lived in Cluster0o460v3.  The serial number may mean something to someone, but Phil couldn’t image who.  They certainly didn’t mean anything to him also serial numbers that began with zero sort of creeped him out. The City was one massive sprawl known as Bosaltami, and covered what at one time had been the eastern seaboard of the United States, an archaic government which had suffered a cataclysmic collapse a few generations ago.  Cluster0o460v3 was a community of around six hundred homes.  Though the community was very ethnically diverse the income range was quite narrow, almost all home having a larger number of parents and breadwinners then the traditional mom and dad household.  The community had all the important parts of a community; five or six restaurants, dry cleaning, a bar or three, the school where Phil taught, and the Foods Mart where he was parking.

The Foods Mart was a very important part of the community, supplying the most import utility, food.  The Food Mart in Cluster0o460v3 was quite nice it had an open park with a café.  It also had one of the few parking lots in the cluster.  Phil slowly drove to the very back of the parking lot, parking near the wall of the cluster.  He got out of the car and took a backpack out of the trunk.  Pulling the backpack on he walked to the corner of the lot where the wall of the cluster arched up in the rest of the city.   Here where the parking lot met the wall there was a door with a sign.  The sign said ‘Service’ but someone had written in graffiti “Skin of the world” over it.  This door allowed access to the vast super structure of the city, the skin and body that gave it form. It was this super structure that contained all the levels and clusters and protected the City from threats both internal and external.   This structure had evolved over many years, as the city grew vertically.  As it had grown up it had also grown out and then merged with the other cities becoming the massive entity it was now.

Once his eyes had adjusted to the change of light Phil could see a roughly painted B in a circle with an arrow pointing down a flight of stairs.  At the bottom of the stairs he saw another sign, following these signs took Phil through a series of stairs, catwalks and doors always heading down.  Some times they were really clear and easy to find, others not so much but find them he most and otherwise finding he Below would be impossible.

Phil was walking down a narrow ally between two tall walls or supports for some part of the City when he came upon the gates to the Below. The gates had been built up over time; the prime material was scraps and bits of this and that.  The nature of the building materials were such that pieces were always falling apart, and different people were always finding new things and ways to keep structural integrity.  The effect was gothic with two towers of trash growing upwards till they pass some point and gravity begins to make its presence known.  The towers now lean against each other, creating an arch one needed to pass through.  Various scaffolds had grown up to allow the constant upkeep necessary, this added to the momentous feel of the arch.  This structure had so much work and so many architects that it felt organic, like it was grown not built.   It was, Phil thought as he walked through it, a new wonder of the world.  A wonder that so few would ever know of let alone see.

The ach opened up into a market place in the ribs of the city above.  Here commerce had a different meaning, no form of money was recognized, trade and barter ruled here.  In the past it was a lively place full of noise, the good all scrounged from the city, the market feed from a zillion transactions and not a few thefts. It was a true trickled down market, the commodities of credit and debit, filtering down to this market of pure trade.  Goods accumulated here from every type of loss and devaluation. This process also could be said about the people in the below.  No one really knew how things or people ended here but to say that they were no longer wanted was an over simplification.

 Today Phil was greeted with a more subdued tone, it hushed as he entered, then after a few minutes the sound picked up, hushed negotiations and the hue and cry of disappointment or victory resumed, Josh had called that “the call of the bulls and the bears”.  Messengers scuttled through the shadows, moving always at the periphery of sight.  Phil had visited Ben down here a few times.  Well to be more accurate, Ben had come to Phil’s house, Phil had gone to the Below as a way to keep the peace. Today the shadows seemed more prominent and there were defiantly fewer people.  The market place smelled of unwashed people and trash. Underneath, like a bass line in a song the scent of grease and oil.  Today he noticed something else, something sour.  The other smells though unpleasant at first one could learn to at least ignore them.  This new smell was very light; Phil only noticed it when he wasn’t thinking about it.  Like having a name or a word at the tip of your tongue.  

This market had many vices for sale and one could find them all in the shadowed caverns that were formed in the ribs and supports of the City overhead.  In the past there were always a few folks from the City here either out of curiosity or just to get something that they may not be able to find or afford elsewhere.   Here a pair of socks or a copy of SI’s swimsuit edition could get you a new large screen TV or the latest designer drug.  If looking to fulfill a darker, more base physical desire, that was here too.  Every taboo up above was bought and sold, a true market where the invisible hand ruled. 

As much as the shadows held one type of commerce the rest of the market sold every imaginable good from clothes to industrial cleaners.  Another type of merchant that proliferated the market was the food vender.  As long as you didn’t ask too many questions of where it came from you could find many delectable snacks and meal.  There were carts and stalls that served burritos and taco, others offered various fried vegetables and other fried things, remember don’t ask.  But by far the most common were the meat-on-a-stick venders, it was to one of these that Phil was looking for.

Ratz-Ratz claimed to be the first true food vender in the Below market.  Though he fell under the meat-on-a-stick label, he would become enraged if he heard you call him that.  What he served was not some mystery meat; it was a whole rat on a stick roasted to perfection.  Ben had introduced Phil to Ratz-Ratz on one of his first visits, not only did Josh think that Ratz-Ratz offered the best food in the market he also had a pulse on all the news and gossip in the market, it was his secondary source for income.   Ben had a thriving business of gathering and selling bits of info, and Ratz-Ratz had been one of is most reliable sources.  If any one knew where Ben was it would be Ratz-Ratz.

As one of the originals in the market place Ratz-Ratz ‘restaurant’, if you will, held a prominent spot between to post near the geographic center of the market place.  Phil could smell it before could see it.  The rich smell of roasting meat made his mouth water, as the knowledge that it was rat made his stomach ache.   Ratz-Ratz himself was a wrinkled old man who very much looked like the animal he served, he was short but very skinny with a bent back his shoulders hunched up almost to his ears.  His face was elongated with a very large toothy grin.  He wore some many layers of clothing all so old they had more holes then material, the grin and the tattered look of his garments were responsible for the nickname.

“Rats, I got some fresh roasted rats, you want some rat?”  Ratz-Ratz went right into his pitch as soon as he saw Phil.

“Hi Ratz, do you remember me, Ben introduced us a little while ago?”

“Maybe if you get a rat then I’ll remember, yeah then I’ll remember.”  Ratz-Ratz had gotten his nickname because he had a habit of repeating himself.

“OK Ratz, I guess I’ll have one rat, skinned please.”

“Comin’ right up, what you got to trade?  I could use some new under rues.  Or maybe you have some batteries, I can always use some new batteries, yeah I always need new batteries.” Ratz-Ratz rubbed his hands together as he contemplated his wish list. 

Phil took off the backpack in which he had a collection of items he intended to trade knowing that his credit had no value.  It made no difference that he had a 730, 690 and 710 rating, his plastic card would only be good as a small, rectangular Frisbee. He had a small stock pill in the bag and if he needed to Phil was also prepared to trade the backpack.  All in all he thought it was much more then he would need for a rat on a stick and a little information.

“Ok Ratz, I got some batteries here and what about a couple socks?”  Phil pulled the bundled socks out of his bag.

“Those are ok, maybe worth half a rat, just a half rat.  What size are the batteries, you know I only need some sizes?”  The socks disappeared into the old mans tattered cameo jacket. 

“Ok, lets see. I got six triple As and ten doubles. Ok here is another pair of double As and here are four Cs. that should be good for a half rat and some info.” Phil had never really battered before, he had read about it in history books but wasn’t really sure what it should sound like.  He tried anyway, “All these batteries should find anyone in the Below, it should be enough for you to make me a map, then ignoring the map, bring me to where ever it was that he lived.”

“I’m not real sure what that means mister, mister no idea what that means.  But those batteries will get you the rest of your rat.  Here you go,” Ratz-Ratz reached back into his hovel and pulled the rat from a rack that was rotating over a small smoldering fire.

“All the good flavor comes from the fuel for the fire, that right the fuel for the fire.” He said when he saw Phil watching.  “I will also provide you with some info about your brother.  He is missing, has been for sometime, yeah sometime.  Must be almost a month, I really haven’t seen him for a month.”

“A month? Where could he have gone?”

“That info will cost you some more, Its gonna cost you. What you don’t like the rat, the rat? You haven’t taken one bite, not one bite.”  Ratz-Ratz looked at Phil with one eyebrow raised with expectation.

Phil lifted the rat to his mouth. “Its just meat,” he said hyping himself up.  He took a deep breath, and with Ratz-Ratz laughter ringing in his ear, he took a small bite.  The skin crackled under his teeth, not unlike fried chicken.  The meat was kind of tough, stringy almost and the bones were so thin, that other then the spine he was able to take a full bite.  The flavor was not bad, salty.  Some grease ran down his chin.  Phil stopped eating and used his sleeve to wipe a way the slimy trail.  About half the rat had been consumed, then he was very sick.  Sick on the ground, while Ratz-Ratz unable to contain his glee, laughed till tears ran down his face.

“Here take it all.” Phil said with some venom, dumping the contents of the backpack into Ratz-Ratz hands. “Just tell what you know about Ben’s disappearance, everything.  If you tell me everything and you bring me to where he slept, I will let you keep the bag too.”

“Oooo, a bag, a bag.  What have we here, what is in this bag here?  Oh good some more socks, Socks!” Ratz-Ratz took a big sniff of the socks, then a second huff. 

“Clean!” he said with glee then digging back into the bag he pulled out two cartons of cigarettes and six magazines. Each item was greeted with a chortle or snort of joy.  The magazines were received particularly well; three of them were targeted to women and advertised the secrets of keeping you man completely satisfied, or the steps needed to look good enough to keep him happy.  The others were lingerie catalogs these where quickly flipped through with silent reverence.  Then he looked Phil straight in the eye.

“Things are bad down here.  It may not look it but people are scared.  They’re scared cause folks are disappearin.  At first they would just be gone.  One day they’ed be there, like right there,” pointing at an empty shop. “Or there,” an arm sweeping out to include the whole market, “They would leave to go to sleep and just never come back.  Just gone.  It was just a few people at first, one person a week maybe two.  But its getten worse, yesterday they took two.  Someone most like is already gone today.”

“Who? Who are they?”

“Don’t know, no one has seen them.  Maybe they don’t even exist. Maybe they are just leaving the Below.  But I think someone, some thing is taking them.  Hunting them, hunting me and all my people, we came here to be safe and now, they, are coming after us.  They took Ben maybe a month ago.  He was in the market, gossiping and telling people it was news.  Ha, then he would ask for money like the rumor was valuable.  You know sometime it was, and sometimes people paid him, everybody liked your brother.  Don’t know who he was in the City, were’ll some kinda broken when we end up here.”  Ratz-Ratz paused his talking with a vacant look and ran his hand through the tuft of hair that he had left on his head.

            “That day,” he continued, “Ben was up to his old game, talking, that Ben could talk.  I think that he was trying to get people to talk bout the disappearance.  Maybe not though, memories not so good anymore and maybe I just want to think that he knew what was coming.  But, whatever happened he left like always, a wave here a nod here, he would always stop by and try to get a free rat.  I always told him that there’s nothing free in this world, certainly no free rat!  Then he left to go to his spot, where he slept.  That’s it, no more, I haven’t seen him since, nor none of the rest, maybe thirty now.”

            “What?” Phil interrupted, “Did you just say that thirty people have been abducted?”

            “Well, if abdoocted means, taken, whatchta say, ‘napped.  Then yeah, that what I said.  It’s probably more, I don’t know everybody here, some people don’t really get known here, don’t want to be known.  Maybe fifty, I wouldn’t be surprised if they took fifty.”

            “I had no idea.”  Phil was shocked.  He had no idea what to do, thirty people, fifty people, that was a lot of people.  If it had just been Ben maybe he could have done something.  I should go to the police, they would care if it was fifty people.  Then on second thought they wouldn’t care, not here in the Below. 

            As if reading his mind Ratz-Ratz piped up again breaking into Phil’s chain of thought.  “Don’t bring the cops here, we’ve no love for them pigs, and they certainly don’t give a good god damn about us.  This is a Below problem, these are Below people.  Josh was a Below person, leave him to us we’ll take care of him.  You wont, or cant I don’t judge, but just go back to your life.  Josh belongs in the Below and if he disappears down here then maybe that is what happens to all of us, he is one of us now.”  By the end of this Ratz-Ratz face was getting red and his hands were clenched, in front of him. “Just go, go now before they get you.”

            Phil tried to say something, but Ratz-Ratz closed the flap that covered the window/door/opening, effectively slamming the door in his face.  So he turned and headed back the way he came.  As he walked back through the market towards the gate he felt very conflicted.  In many ways he felt that he was failing his brother, leaving or abandoning him. However like Ratz-Ratz had said there were other people who cared for Ben now and they wanted the responsibility of trying to save him, something Phil could see no way he could do anyways.  Also he felt some deep release, Ben was no longer his problem, it was done.  This thought made him feel even worse, he was a terrible brother.  Sally will know what to do, or at least she’ll help, she will know what to say. 

With that thought Phil passed beneath the gates, now he needed to find the arrows that had lead him down here.  He found the first one, then the second.  It was easier going back, he was able to let his mind wonder has he worked his way back the way he had come.  The more he thought about it, he realized that most likely Ben was dead.  This concept hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking him out of his reprieve.  He stopped walking and looked around, this area didn’t look familiar.  He could see the arrow that he followed here, but where was the next one.  Now his breath was speeding up and he could feel his hands sweating, suddenly the room he was in was very warm.  Phil took a deep breath.  Trying to calm down, he knew that if he panicked he would never find he way out.   He needed to be calm.  Calm.

In the quite, in his calm, he heard them.  The shuffle of steps, footsteps of someone, NO someoneS creeping up on him.  Phil spun around to face the sound, to see who was behind him.   A light was turned on right in his eye.  Having been in the dark for long time his eyes had become adjusted, the bright light completely dazzled them, leaving multi colored circles that blocked his vision completely.  The circles stayed when he closed his eyes against the brilliant light that was violating his pupils. 

Hands grabbed his left arm; he spun towards his attacker and slammed into a different body rushing towards him.  The sudden movement must have surprised the rushing attacker because he had smashed his own face into Phil’s chest, bounced back and fell down. Phil tried to jump the downed body and open his eyes, only to be blinded again by the light.  What may have been an amazing escape attempt, failed as he miss calculated how close the downed attacker was.  First he kicked him in his side then he tripped and fell on him.  Whoever was holding his left hand fell on top of them pushing Phil onto the ground with his left arm behind his back.  Phil struggled but was pined; the man under him was trying to hold his right arm.  As he struggled the man on top of him was trying to put something over his face.  He really could do nothing to stop the man from forcing the device over his mouth and nose.  He tried not to breath, but he had been struggling, and he was so scared.  He breathed in, it-tasted minty, the world faded away.

Third Chapter

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Edwin P. Ust

There was an early release. Edie was dedicated to being the very first person to get the implant; by god he was going to be the first person to enter AntruA. From that point on he would rule, he would not look back.  He was going to run things; he was going to be the man. But first he needed to plan.  Edie was going to have to take not one or even two, but three different trains to get to the Cell World that was hosting the early release. The internet said the trip should take seven hours, but Edie assumed that it would be more like nine. He was planning to arrive at the store three days in advance. If he made the train trip at night not only would he be there first thing, he would also save on the food that he would need to bring.

In preparation Edie had created a list of things that he need for the trip. A tent was key. It would to be his home for three days; it would hold his food, clothes and whatever. The tent would also be a place for him to sleep and escape the eyes of the public.  But most importantly it would hold his place at the front of the line if he ever had to step away, like to use the bathroom in the store. He thought that he had an old tent in his closet. Amazingly it was right where he thought it was.  So that was one thing he could check off his list.

Clothes were the next items on the list. This was easy, he needed travel clothes he could pick those out the night that he left. He picked three pairs of sweatpants and some long sleeve shirts. The outfit for the day of purchase was a little different. His favorite video game T-shirt and a pair of jeans would do.  The shirt had been one of his favorites for many years; it was comfortable and obscure enough to show his elite gamer status. He saw this shirt was also a way to embrace this transition, his illumination if you will, from his old favorite game to the new way of gaming.

Clothes taken care of he turned his focus on the most important line of his list, food.  Edie had visions of TV dinners and microwave meals.  But while heading out the door to go shopping, he passed his tent.  It dawned on Edie suddenly that he would have no way to cook anything.  How had he overlooked this simple fact. Maybe he could build his own fire. Though he had to assume that the store would not allow that. So he needed a new plan. He had nothing. Edie thought he might find something at the store so off he went with no real idea what he was going to buy.

The store was swarming with parents struggling to purchases all their food for the week and control their children.  Every aisle had at least one altercation complete with crying and screaming; every so often it had escalated to stomping and throwing of food from shelves.  In a crowd on the street Edie felt he could lose himself, in this store he felt trapped in the narrow tall aisles. There was this noise, a high pitched keening. The whole store emanated a vibe that made him want to run very far away.

Edie walked around the store trying to see what could be eaten that required no cooking.  He couldn’t even think of a way to boiling water.  He went to grab a bunch of high-energy protein bars.  These were a staple of his diet already, as he used them as a way to avoid brakes while binging on video games. Initially he picked out about twenty, of varying flavors and brands. Then he picked out about ten more just to be safe, these things never went bad anyways. Then to balance out that he grabbed three bags of baby carrots, two big jars of pickles. Looking at his cart Edie felt a wave of discontent.  Sure he could get some stuff for sandwiches, but it all seemed pretty lame.   

Then he saw something new. VitaZeds. Small squeeze tubes with a colorful label advertising all the necessary nutrition and protein of a single meal. Seeing that they were produced by DocZed Inc.  This was just the sign that he was looking for.  Discarding his entire basket Edie went to the front of the store to get a fresh one.  Returning to the display Edie proceeded to fill the basket with the sausage sized containers.   Edie figured that he was going to be gone three days, so figuring the basic three meals a day made for nine total meals.  Edie also figured he would want a snack, so add three more, that’s twelve.  There are five flavors might as well grab three of each, so fifteen.  Each VitaZed was three ninety-nine so about sixty total, not bad.   Time to check out.

This turned into its own process.  First he waited in the express lane.  There were like six families in front of him, and there seemed to be some sort of hold up, as the line had not moved in some time.  A mother and two children got into line behind him.  One child, a girl, sitting in the seat of the cart was just getting over a temper tantrum and was still hiccupping and sniffing.  The other was a boy, and he ran up to Edie’s basket and looked inside.

“Hey, mister, what are these things,” he held up a tube.

“Bobby-Jack you leave that man alone,” the mother shouted sort of half-heartedly, trying to console the crying child sitting in the cart.

The boy, apparently Bobby-Jack, was unperturbed. “This one is Raspberry pie, this one is meatloaf, and you also have eggs and bacon. Hey, mister you have fifteen items in your basket. This is the line for twelve or less.  Hey Mama, this man has fifteen items in his basket.”

“Sir, are you really trying to cheat the express line.” The mom gave Edie a withering look, “I only have twelve items, at the least switch with me, let me go ahead of you.”

“Sure I guess,” Edie felt steamrolled, and despite himself somewhat guilty.  But the line had started to move and what the hell he really wasn’t in any rush.  And he didn’t have any kids, thank god for that.  The girl in front of him started to cry again.  Edie tried to find something to look at other than the still glaring mother.  Out of the corner of his eye Eddie caught a movement.  Apparently there was a third to the brood ahead of him.  This third child darted in to his mother and thrust and armful of food into her cart.  The mother, maybe feeling Eddie’s eye, turned and glared right back, almost daring him to open his mouth.  Eddie feeling that the whole issue was more trouble than it was worth, and really he was in no rush, looked the other way.  

Once out of the store he took a deep breath, man was that place oppressive. Shouldering his bags he headed home to pack. Checking his watch he saw that he still had a good four hours before he needed to leave for the train. Plenty of time. Having already staged his other items all he needed to do was pack them into his backpack with the food. That done he checked the time again, he still had three hour before needed to leave. Great that gave him plenty of time for playing a quick game.

The next time Eddie checked the time three hours and three minutes had passed. He jumped up threw his bag over his shoulders, he then ran to the door. How did he always manage to do this?  Halfway out the door he realized that he had forgotten to turn off his game, he turned and taking the steps two at a time he ran into his room.  He grabbed his controller to start the saving process, it was just going to take too much time; he was going to be late.  But he didn’t want to lose what he had just accomplished.  Justifying that he was going to never play this game after AntruA, he just turned the system off, and sprinted to the door.

Once aboard the train Eddie settled into his seat, stowing his backpack into the seat next to him.  Then he waited for the train to fill. Other riders trickled on, but the train was still half empty when they pulled away from the station. The train was a sleek aerodynamic tube with one passenger compartment.   It ran between tracks that ran somewhat parallel with the Skyline. The Skyline, vast networks of lesser highways all feeding into the one massive freeway; this free form structure twisted around buildings.  While in comparison the train tracks ran in straight lines between stations. These straight tracks even went through buildings, the effect was that from the window of the train you caught glimpses of the Skyway; sometimes it was above, other times it ran next to the train, sometimes below. The dark road itself was impossible to see, but the lights of its cars were the trains passengers contestant companions. Snakes of red and white, twisting in opposite directions. sometimes moving faster combining into rivers of lights, other places they stopped then they looked like two strips of polka dots.

The transfer point came and went, in an almost half dream haze at some time around one in the morning. Eddie woke up in one train, moved to the next and immediately went back to sleep. His dreams were broken and felt disjointed. He keep waking up and looking at the flowing lights, so they snaked their way into his mind.  At one point he thought that he saw a crash.  The lights were all bunched, the bottleneck culminating in flashing blue and white lights. But that couldn’t be. Cars were automated to slow down or swerve to avoid accidents, the computers were unhackable. It must have been a dream.

The second transfer woke Eddie up for good. It was a regional train, much smaller than the one he had just gotten off.  The smaller size meant, there were people in every row, Edie would have to sit next to another rider. He chose a seat about halfway down the train. The other rider was a short stout man holding tech magazine in his lap. Eddie settled into his new seat and tried one of the food packs. It was early morning, six-twenty according to his watch, so he tried the bacon and eggs flavor. The top of the container had a pull-tab; pulling on that opened up the container then it was just a matter of squeezing from the bottom. It was not bad, tasted just like it was labeled one bite would taste like eggs the next like bacon. The texture took some getting used to, creamy and smooth.  

The last leg of the journey went quickly enough. The passenger next to him woke an hour after they left the transfer point with a snort. The man sat up and looked around guiltily, Eddie looked the other way. The man then pulled the magazine up to his face. It was then that Eddie saw the cover.   It was generic video game periodical called “Console Weekly.” Eddie had read it on and off; it did a good job of covering news from all over the industry, and for the most part was unbiased. On this cover the stranger from the commercial smiled over his shoulder, facing him were a cast of the predominate video game characters of the last twenty years. Colorful robots and cute animals glared at the smiling wanderer. The caption read, “Will AntruA Change the Games We Play? No more Players only Characters: A Revolution of the Way We Experience Gaming.”

When Eddie got off the train he headed straight to the newsstand in the station.  He searched the newsstand but couldn’t find the magazine that the man had been reading. Desperately he turned to the clerk working the counter.  “Please tell me you have ‘Console Weekly’ in stock?”

“Yes’ir we have it right here,” the clerk pulled down a magazine from next to the counter, right in front.   This was a ‘Console Weekly’ but its cover was displayed a new futuristic game with some space warrior fighting a hive mind for the survival of the human race.

“Is this the latest issue?  I want the issue with about AntruA, you know the one with the wanderer on the cover?”

“I remember that article, good stuff. That AntruA looks dead, I can’t wait for it to release. But I’m sorry sir that issue came out like two weeks ago.  We sold out of it out by now.  We only get, like, four copies. Sorry sir.”

“Damn, what am I going to read now? Fine whatever, thanks.”

Eddie ran out of the station.  The street was busy with people and cars flying around.  No matter where you went it was always the same, people running to and fro, always late.  For Eddie it was the same, he seemed to always just a little late, his schedule was just a little off.  But not today.  Today he was in no rush, but in no time he was walking up to the store.  It looked identical to the branch that Edie worked at. He pulled out his tent, all the pieces were there, and however, he had not considered that he needed to stake the tent down. If he had brought some string he could have tied it to something, but he hadn’t. The wind whipped through the parking lot and if he didn’t keep at least a foot in the tent it would blow away.  Of course this lesson came the hard way.

The tent deployed, Eddie had turned to pick up his bag to put in the tent.  When he had turned the tent was rolling across the parking lot. He had to run to catch it. Finally he caught it and brought it back to the space he had picked out by the door. He put his bag in the tent hoping that the weight of the bag would hold the tent in place. But it didn’t. Once again Eddie went off chasing his wayward tent, this time with the added need to recover all his food and possessions. So he would have to stay in the tent the whole time, three days. Well at least he had brought his pee bottle.    

Second Chapter

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                                 Ana Raknid

The Mall was crowded, families bumped into each other and bags were tangled.The pressure of shopping seemed to fill the spaces with noise and steam. It sapped the energy from every adult, and seemed to energize every child with a demonic need for attention.The mothers failed attempt to balance children and the remaining purchase and motivating her husband. The men were all silently mourning the loss of a peaceful morning. Under the weight of the bags they struggled to come to terms with the fact that they will be there for much, much longer.

Then she was there, a human vision of the three goddesses Beauty, Temptation and Sin. As Ana moved through the mall she traveled in a pocket of quiet and space. Even loaded with bags, men pushed to give her room. The general noise and hubbub died down in two parts awe, one part intimidation.   More than a few husbands thought to discard their spouses’ parcels to in favor of helping Ana. Then she was gone.  The return of the noise and crowed was crushing. Few men have ever been subtle, least of all these overweight specimens of Middle America. Worse now, the sound rose in pitch as every woman raised her voice in protest to the look on her husband’s face.

Ana was mostly oblivious to all the attention that she garnered. All her life she had been beautiful, but just shy of seventeen she was finding that her life was getting notably easier. In the last six months she only had to lean towards a public building and the door would be hurriedly opened.  Also even in this time of hectic shopping she had hardly had to wait in a line, and those that she found herself in all seemed to move twice as fast.  Now approaching the exit of the mall she was so preoccupied that she barely nodded to the father and son who appeared to be fighting over the door.

The bags were starting to get heavy as she left the massive three-story mall.  She had gotten lucky, as on only her second loop through the parking lot she saw a car pulling out of a space directly across from an exit. As she prepared to pull into the open spot, she saw that there was a car coming from the other direction. She paused not wanting to take someone else’s spot, but the nice man in the other car had motioned for her to take it. Approaching the car she was happy to give the weight of the bags to two brothers who were on their way into the mall. She was happy for the help; they even loaded the bags into her car. The older brother stammered something about her number while holding out a piece of paper and a pen. He beamed as she wrote on the paper and then snatched the folded paper from her hand. He walked away very fast, his brother having to almost run to keep up. She hoped that he would not be too disappointed when he saw that all she had written was “Thank You.”

Ana drove as she had walked, as if there was no one else around her. She drove fast, and changed lanes seemingly at random.  If you have ever seen anyone cut across three lanes to exit the freeway, that person may have been Ana.  The car was a place where she felt safe, a place no one could see her.  She often changed lane or speed to avoid being next to one car for too long. Because of this sense of security, Ana found that the car was her favorite place to think. Today, all day all she had been able to think about what was going to happen that night.  

Ana was the quintessential good girl, even if she was a bad driver. She had always worked hard in school, and she had to get good grades, it was the family expectation. She worked hard, and she was smart. But her it seemed that her teachers wanted her to succeed so they never challenged her. This last year had been a breeze. Her teachers loved her papers and she always seemed to pass exams easily. On one test she noticed in the grading that she received double points on the question she answered correctly for every question she got wrong. Ana had always felt that she had to be super good.  She always went to class, she never partied, she was a quite perfect goody-goody two shoes.  It was starting to drive her nuts, and it was sooo boring.

She had done so well in school that her parents had taken away her curfew, to show that “hard work earns rewards” as her father said.  Because of this new freedom, and extra free time, hanging out with her friends was starting to get boring.  Last night after hanging out at the mall for like five hours, when Jenny, Ana’s best friend said, “My brother, you know Micah, he just came home from college.  I heard him on the phone, a bunch of his friends are having party, you know because they’re all back from school for the first time and all.  My parents are gone we can dress up really hot.  We’ll get my brother to bring us.  We can party and get drunk.”

“Won’t your brother get pissed if you show up dressed like a slut, I mean,” Ana had never done anything like this and felt like she needed to find a reason not to go. “All of his friends there and you are his sister.”

“Oh, come on! I said hot, not a slut. Don’t slut shame me. I like it when guys look at me. I want to get drunk. Not hook up.  Plus Micah told me to come he said that he wants to make sure I know how to drink before I go to college.”

“I guess I never thought about it that way.”

“Totally, it’s like practice, it would be fun.  I’ve never been drunk before.”

Ana was convinced, “let me call my parents I’ll tell them I’m staying at your house.”   This was just the thing she needed to break out of her role as a good girl.

“Great, I already told by mom that I’m staying with you.”

Ever since then all Ana could think about was the upcoming night.  She was so existed.  But now she needed to face her parents and gather supplies for the night.  She tried to make it up the stairs to her room without her parents noticing, the plan was to hit them with quick kiss good-bye as she ran out the door.  That was not the case both her mother and father were sitting in the den, which opened into the entryway.  As always they were glued to the TV.  

“Oh, Ana, you have to see this,” Ana’s mother was waving with one hand without breaking focus on the TV. “Opera’s Clone is interviewing a…I don’t even know how to describe it.  Just come look.”

The screen showed a generic talk show setting, three chairs were placed in a semi-circle.  In the chair in the bottom corner of the screen was a very small version of Opera, maybe six inches tall.  She had a special chair, a very small chair.  The middle chair was empty.  The chair in the upper corner was also empty.  Instead a large screen had been lowered to the approximate height of a seated human.  On the screen flickered the most amazing menagerie of twentieth century celebrities’ faces.

“Uh, what is that?” Ana asked.  “Or who? I guess.”

“It’s Doc Zed,” Her father said, “now sit, they’re just getting started.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know,” said her mother.

“Just watch,” said her father.

Ana sat down. On the screen, the muttering of the crowd died down and Opera’s Clone spoke to the camera.  “Today we have a treat for you. Talking with us is DocZed.  He is here to talk about the upcoming release of the TAP, and AntruA.  Now, DocZed thank you so much for coming on to the show.”

“The pleasure is all mine Opera’s Clone, thanks for having me on your show.” The image changed from Jerry Springer to Slash.

“Please call me OC, I was hoping that we could be informal here.”

“Of course,” Slash now morphed to Tara Patrick.

“So DocZed,” OC continued, “I guess, simply put, what is TAP?”

“TAP is device that will connect a person directly to a massive network, the human network.  It really will work with any network, instantaneously.  It stands for TelNet Awareness Port.  When Zed Inc releases TAP it will replace your computer, your cell phone and camera.  Potentially it will replace both Television and ‘The News’ as we know them.”

“Wow, those are some serious claims.  Aren’t there a lot of people that you challenge with a statement like that?  I mean, if what you’re saying comes to pass what does that mean for me, or say Dan Rather’s Clone?”

Tara’s face melted into Steve Martin, “Yes! I am absolutely trying to upset the status-quo, one hundred percent.   Anyone will be able to record anything they see or hear, really any memory they have, and broadcast it for anyone to watch, this will be called a Ping.  By the same token anyone will be able to experience any Ping as if it was his or her own memory, this will be called TapPingIn.  The deciding factor will be how many people want to watch your Ping.  Are you able to compete for attention with all of humanity?”  Steve Martin morphed into an ape with glasses.

“I see, and you can connect to anyone, so cell phones are done.”

“Exactly,” a baby burbled from the on-stage screen.

“So, how does it work?”

“A small device is implanted into the back of the neck.  This device is packed full of little nanocomputers, or nanites.  They are released from the device then float in your spinal fluid.  In this way they spread throughout your nervous system looking for nerve bundles of a specific size.”  The baby face now changed to Leonard Nemoy.   “When they find what they’re looking for the nano attaches itself to the nerve and starts sending out a signal. The signal connects the nanites that are spread all over your nervous system.  The rest of it is very technical, to make it simple the nanites become conduits sending and receiving information.” The face was now John Stuart.  “Your bones act as an antenna, strengthening the signal and connecting to the other humans’ TAPs.  By connecting directly to your nerves experiences can be sent to your brain as if you were experiencing them yourself.  It has a lot to do with electric pulses and how information is sent from your nerves to the brain, which then translates them to feelings and memories.  By adding new electrical pulses to piggyback on the ones that you generate naturally you can experience anything that is broadcast.  By the same token anything you chose to broadcast can be experience by anyone who chooses TapIn.” Christopher Lloyd finished the last part with a twitchy enthusiasm. “Ironically these features, ya know the cell phones and TV features, were actually side effects.”

“You mean you weren’t trying to do any of this?”

“That’s correct OC.” Now it was Roger Clemens speaking to the tiny Opera.  “This all started as I was trying to develop a video game, a MMORPG”

“A what? A emmorphamaporg?”

“Sorry, I spend most of my time talking with nerds.  MMORPG is an acronym for ‘Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game.” Replied DJ Qualles who then became Bill Gates.  “It will be called AntruA.  I guaranty it will be the most in-depth, realistic gaming experience anyone has ever experienced.” Said an animated Abraham Lincoln looking directly from his screen into the in-studio camera.  He continued, “There will be no preconceived story.   The events will be completely user generated.   The choices that the players make will have consequences and lasting influence.  The culture and the way people interact will be based on the communal choices.”

“This is amazing, so fascinating.  We need to take a quick break for a word from our sponsors.  But don’t touch your dial, we’ll be right back with more from DocZed.”  

Opera’s clone had a slightly dazed look, an ape with a monocle looked out from the in studio TV.  He picked his digital nose, ate a digital boggier and then grinned ear-to-ear out at the audience.  The picture faded into a commercial.

Ana and her parents sat in silence for a few minutes.  Ana knew that with her parents distracted it would be easier for her to get permission to go out that night.  But she also knew that she had to approach the issue with care.  

“What game is worth putting something in your head?” Ana said in a disgusted voice.  She needed to keep them thinking about that whack-job DocZed.

“I don’t know,” her mom said, “Seems to me that all the other features would be handy, I mean I’ve lost, like what, five cell phones.”

Her father spoke slowly like he was really thinking about what he was saying.  “It’s a very dangerous thing he was suggesting.  Replacing TV with an open source network.  See anything that anyone can think to watch.  It’s always dangerous to attack the status-que.  It’s a lot of money that this guy is talking about, and this game.  No reason to talk to anybody else anymore.  This will be the end of society as we know it.”

“Oh Please! ‘End of society as we know it,” this line was delivered by Ana’s mother dripping with sarcasm. “You sound like every stodgy adult that has ever lived.  I agree with DocZed the only way to grow is to innovate.”    

“Mom, can I go spend the night with Jenny, she invited me?” Ana jumped in as her mother paused to take a breath.”

“Sure dear,” Ana was elated, her mom continued to address her father. “Just think about how many of the things that a TAP will replace were at one time or another accused of ‘ending society.  I think it is just a little creepy.”

Ana snuck upstairs to get ready if she was quick enough she would be able to leave the house while her parents were still distracted with their debate.  She opened up her closet and was immediately overwhelmed by what to wear.   There was nothing in her closet to wear, nothing.  It was not like she didn’t like her clothes.  She just didn’t like any for tonight.  She didn’t have time for this. She packed a random selection, pretty much without paying any attention to what it she was stuffing into her overnight bag.  Finished her packing then tiptoed downstairs.  

When she got down stairs she saw that there was no reason to be concerned.  The commercial break was over and her parents were engrossed with the interview.  Ana could have moved a three-ring circus through her living room and her parents wouldn’t have noticed.  On the TV DocZed now looking like Bill Nye was saying.  “The interface is very flexible.  You can choose how to see it and how you interact with it. You can project it in front of you and make selections using your hands.”

“Won’t that look funny, people pointing at things in the air that one else can see?”

“What do you think of people who talk to themselves out in public, connected to those bluetooth headsets?”

“Touché,” OC laughed, “so what about the …”  

Ana found that she had stopped to listen, the idea of tons of little computers living on her nerves creeped her out.   She opened the door then yelled “Bye,” then shut it on her parents’ mumbled response.  That was that she was free to go out, free to party.  

Just like Jenny had said her parents were gone by the time Ana arrived Jenny flung open the door to her house and dragged Ana up to her bedroom.  The room was trashed, with cloths covering every possible surface and draped over anything with a corner or an edge.  The rest of the afternoon was devoted to finding outfits that were just the right level of sexy.  Ana tried the clothes that she had brought.  First it was a black shirt with a diagonal drape across the front and jeans.  

“What do you think?”

“It’s good…”

“But, maybe not jeans right, leggings maybe.”

“Yeah, black ones.”

“Of course, I didn’t bring any.”

“Let me find you some, they must be here somewhere.  I think it’s in this pile, on the dresser, but check on that chair just in case.”

“They’re not over here, don’t worry about the leggings I’ll just try a different shirt. What about this brown one?”

“That works better with the jeans, here try this jacket.  Yeah that’s good.”

“With these boots, I think this is good.”

“Totally hot, the boots make it.”

“Thanks, now you.”

“I was thinking this skirt, with these tights, but I need help with the shirt. What about this one?”

“The red is good, I think the skirt is perfect.”

“Me too.  I don’t like the shirt.”

“Why not, it’s cute.”

“It’s too tight here and here, not tight enough here. I do like the color though.”

“I think I saw another red shirt when I was going through the pile on the chair.”

“Oh, good.”

“Any luck.”

“No, maybe on this other pile. No red shirt, but I found the black leggings. Wait, I think it’s in the closet.  Yes, here it is what do you think?”

“I don’t know…not quite right.”

“Here, try this black tee shirt”

“Yeah give me that, and over on the desk there should be a pair of scissors, hand me those.”

“Over here?”

“Yep, in the cup.”

“No scissors, lots of pens.”

“Ok try the drawer, no, the other one on the right.  Great hand those to me.”

“What are you doing you’re going to destroy your shirt!?”

“I’m just cutting off the shoulders, see then I take this blue tank and layer.  It’s all about the layers.”

“That’s good, you’re foxy, and the open shoulders are perfect.”

“Yah, I’m ready, should we go?”

“No, I changed my mind this is not the right outfit.”

“Really? Common lets go, you look great.”

“No, I can’t go out in jeans.”

“Alright, you’re right.  Let me see what I have here…Maybe this, try this dress.”

“Yeah! A dress.  Let’s see, gimme a sec…Here we go, what do you think.”

“Wow, you are going to turn heads.”

“It is a little short.”

“No it’s perfect, anyways it’s time to go,” this was punctuated by a banging on the door, “Coming!”

“This is Micah.”

Jenny performed the introduction over her shoulder as opened the front car door.  Ana shook his offered hand after she sat in the back seat.  Micah was good looking if not a little plain.  His mouth seemed a too big for his face and his eyes seemed a little flat.  Ana immediately labeled him as not up to her standards.  Not that she was planning to hook up with anyone tonight, no tonight was about getting drunk   That being said she always had an eye out for someone, he just had to meet her standards, and up to this point no one had.

“We’re going to go up the Skyway,” said Micah, “It’s the quickest way to the coast, and if the sky is clear we may see some stars.”

“I love the Skyway!” squeaked Jenny.  

“I don’t think that I have been on the Skyway since I was a little girl.”  Ana said. “I heard that they added more fields on top.”

Micah nodded.  “Yeah they have almost completely covered the City over with fields now.  More people need to eat, so more fields.  They left a small circle open so you can see the sky.  But it is almost always covered with clouds.”

By this time they were screaming up the ramp.  The ramp was by no means a straight shoot to the Skyway.  It had many on and off ramps as it travelled up to the top of the city.  As the space between the merges increased the road gained lanes and soon they were driving at top speed.  Whipping around turns that seemed to dodge giant skyscrapers. The lights, like red and white snakes, reflected off the billions of glass panes.  Ana laid her head back on the seat and listened to the hum of so many wheels.  She opened her eyes looking up through the rear window. The buildings seem to stretch up forever; smooth gray green, she noted the random lighted windows where people went about unknown activities. The buildings were all connected with tunnels and byways forcing the Skyway to weave and twist upwards.  The effect was like flying up into the roots of a super large tree.  Though it all the lights headlights and brake lights, twirled likes two flying dragons. Then the car banks to the right.  

There. The bottom of the fields…are so dull.

Boring.

Just flat gray. It wasn’t like the buildings did anything, they just stopped, and the gray took over.  The gray seemed go forever.  By now the skyway no longer dodged and juked around buildings, it was now more or less a straight drive.  Still it went up.  The gray now revealed its network; pipes, gears and supports all twisted, all feeding into the massive skyscrapers.

“Soon,” Micah broke the silence. “Look up as we go over the bend.”

Like going over a hill, the car rose over the crest, the true top of the world.  There was the hole, like a smoke hole or a chimney, in the covering over the Earth.  In contrast with the unending dull gray, the black of the sky was startling.   A disk of black, Ana had never seen the real sky before. It had always been the faux sunlight of the arcology.  In the midst of the black there were sparkles, pinpricks of light.  Then it was all gone, like it had never even been. Gray again. Ana closed her eyes and saw the pinpricks of light on the back of her eyelids.

They started their descent, the builds like roots growing from the fields that encircled the Earth.  As they went down the skyway again twisted whipped around buildings. As they left the gray behind them the world grew light, Ana hadn’t realized how gloomy it was near the top of the world.   Lights from inside the buildings radiated out, and refracted across the hundreds and millions of panes of glass.  Soon they were flying down a regular city street. It was lined with houses.  They were all painted in light colors, with matching trim.  Here and there were houses whose owners had tried to forge some kind of originality out of the anonymous pastels, whites and beige.   

 When Micah pulled into a driveway it seemed to Ana like he had picked one at random. However when they opened the car doors she could hear a driving bass line, pumping from the house. It was a light green ranch with some small flower gardens lining the front and a concrete path leading to the front door.  Walking up this path, as the bass got louder, Ana started to feel butterflies in her stomach.  She would have called it apprehension, she almost felt that she should call this off, but she had come to far for that.  So when Micah opened the door and held it for her, she followed Jenny inside with her chin held high.

Opening the door released a wave of sound, a sound that overwhelmed all other senses.  The room seemed to swim in a sea of heads, all bobbing to the insistent boom-dad-at-dat-boom, that everyone called the ‘Rican beat.  Boom-dad-at-dat-boom boom-dad-at-dat-boom.  Micah led them away from the door, the flow of kids swarmed around them, but Micah seemed to know where he was going.  Ana followed till they came to another room; this one was less crowded and much quieter. The was long, it was a game room centered around a pool table, on one wall was a dartboard on the other, pin the tail on the donkey. The décor of the room seemed to mirror the pool table, the walls were wood paneled, with plants tucked into the corners and at middle points in the longer walls, and covering the floor was a green rug. Micah brought the two girls over to a group of guys involved in a game of billiards. That is to say that they all held sticks and that there were balls arrayed on the table. There was lots of talking but no one seemed to be taking  any shots.  

“I can hit that corner shot.” Said a messy haired kid bent over the table.

“Not a stinkin’ chance.” Spoke another leaning against the wall, also with messy hair.

“What are you going to do bank it off the green ball, I don’t think so.”  The third boy in the group had also accepted the uniform look of unkempt hair.

“Oh yeah, and if I can you all have to be my man-servants for the next week.” boy one was feeling cocky.   

“Man-servant? If you make that shot I’ll be your mom’s man-servant!” Shouted boy three, obviously pleased with his own cleverness.   

“There is no point in discussing terms, you can’t hit that shot.” Boy two said in a tired voice.

“You hit that shot I’ll eat the plants in this room.” The fourth boy finally joined the conversation. Sitting in a chair in the corner of the room farthest from the door, he was absent mindedly spinning a pool cue between his palms.   

“Hey,” Micah interrupted the group grew quite seeing that they were no longer the only people in the room. “I want you guys to meet my sister, Jenny, and her friends Ana.  These are my suitemates from university.  This is Jack, this is his place.” Boy four stopped spinning the cue and looked up. His was a flattish face with bangs hanging so the covered one eye. Using his right hand he pushed his bangs back, a totally useless gesture as the hair all fell back immediately. He nodded to the girls, saying nothing. He must think he’s too cool speak to us thought Ana.

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to get you guys something to drink.  Hang out with these guys till I come back they’re ok.”  With that Micah left the room.

“Here Micah’s sister,” Jack said handing Jenny a flask from his pocket.

“I’m Jenny.” Jenny said.  

She looked at Ana as if asking permission, but the look that she got back could not be of any help. Ana was concerned, but Micah had said that these guys were ok, right?  So she shrugged.

“Ok, here goes.”  Jenny unscrewed the lid, and took a long swig, then gasped trying not to cough.

“Good stuff, huh.  It’s not for the weak, that crap will burn the hair off your chest.”  Jack took the flask back from Jenny, who was trying to catch her breath.

“It burns.” She said.

“Yes, yes it does.” Jack replied, and then took a big swig himself hissing through his teeth.  He then offered it to Ana.  She took it.  This was the moment of truth.

Jack sensing her pause said, “Come on, your friend tried it, she liked it. Didn’t you?”  

The tone that he said made Ana want to chuck the flask back in his face but Jenny chimed in.  “You got to try it, it makes you feel all warm.”

Ana tipped it to her lips and took an experimental swallow.  It did burn, but she had been expecting that, so she only grimaced a little bit, breathed through her teeth like Jack had.  “That’s it, like a champ.”  Jack said, reaching for the bottle.

Ana took another long pull on the flask before handing it back, just to spite him.  He grinned at her, and then took a pull himself.  He released a long drawn out “ahhhh” and looked at the flask like it was something to be revered.  Micah then re-entered the room, with two red solo cups in this hands, he used the heel of his foot to close the door.  “Are you giving them that Fernet crap?  Don’t drink that junk.  Though considering what I’m about to give you the Fernet is probably an improvement.  This is called Punch, Bug Juice, or Ghetto Juice.  It is lots of booze mixed with really sugary punch.  The idea is that you can’t taste the alcohol, if you’re not careful this stuff will really sneak up on you.”

So they started drinking, they sat in the room while the boy argued about the game without ever really playing.  After a few sips Ana was starting to feel pretty good.  It was at this point that she realized that if she turned her head quickly from side to side the room seemed to lag just a little.  Once she stopped moving the room would snap back into focus.  She felt pretty good.

“Come on let’s go dance.” Jenny said.  

When Ana tried to stand up at first she tipped one way then having to take a step to correct her balance seemed to sway the other.  She would have been fine except that Jenny had also found that her balance was impaired.  Jenny, on the other hand, was not able to steady herself and tried to grab Ana as support.  If it had been anyone else in the room, she probably would have been fine, but this unanticipated force ruined what equilibrium Ana had managed to hang onto.  They both ended up on the floor.  

This was probably the funniest thing Ana had ever seen, and she had been part of it.  But laying on the floor all she could do was laugh. And laugh.  She was not the only person laughing, everyone in the room was laughing.  Jenny was rolling on her back.  Ana tried to get up, but keeping herself covered in the short dress and trying to stop laughing at the same time proved too much. Once again she dissolved into laughter.  Finally she was able to stop, still gasping a little and wiping the tears from her eye.

“There is no way you guys can dance,” Micah laughed.  “Come on, let’s get you home before you get sick.”

“I won’t get sick,” Jenny protested. “Won’t.”

“Whatever, this party sucks anyways let’s take off.”

“What, you guys are leaving,” this from Jack.  “You can’t leave now, things are just getting fun.”

“Dude you’re talking about my sister.”

“Fine take your sister, but leave her friend,” Jack said with a leer.

Ana listened to this interchange with growing incredulity, or something.  Who was this guy to assume that she wanted to stay with him?  She didn’t know him, she didn’t even like him.  She tried to tell him off, but it came out kind of garbled.  “You don’t know, don’t stay here, or like you, whatever jerk.”

“What she said, come here and help get them in the car.” Micah was apparently not talking to her, as she felt hands helping her on to her feet.  When she was standing, “No I can stand, really.  Ok I’m, I can do it.”

But she couldn’t and though she almost fell twice they managed to maneuver her though the crowd and out the door.  The cool air felt so good, and helped clear her head.  After that she was able to walk mostly by herself.  But her escorts keep their hand available for support.  Ana was even able to get into the car without any help.  The boys waved from curb as they drove off.

At first Ana just laid in the back seat with her eyes closed.  The rocking of the car was soothing and the sound from the rush of the wheels droned in the background.  But soon, that changed the rocking of car was now starting to feel like rocking in her stomach.  Things seemed to be spinning in a really disconcerting way and she was getting hot.  Sweet was breaking out on her forehead and it felt like little pinpricks.  She sat up and opened her eyes.  That didn’t help, the swaying in her stomach got worse. She was so hot; the hot was what was really making her feel ill.  So she opened her window hoping the fresh air would just cool her down.

“Uh-oh.” Micah said from the driver seat.

She put a hand out the window, it just so nice to feel wind tugging and pulling on her hand.  She turned her hand flat and let the wind pull it up and down. Having her hand in the wind helped a lot, but she was still really hot. So she stuck the top of her head out the window, feeling the wind whip her hair to frenzy. She turned her head and watched her hair steam out from the car.  Then she put her whole head out the window, the wind stretched out her mouth.  She pushed with her hands and stuck her whole torso into the shrieking wind. The pushing and buffeting of the wind made her laugh, suddenly she a deep release.She laughed out loud, louder, until it was hard to tell if she was laughing or crying.  She took a deep breath the wind seemed to pull it from her mouth. Another deep breath, the wind seemed to cry her name.  Then it changed.  Deeper and harsher, now it howled the wind tearing at her hair and face.  

Ana opened her eyes, to be confronted with the rippled steel side of a massive truck, in the lane next to the car, only inches from her face.  She watched her reflection in the corrugated metal, it was distorted and with her hair flapping made her look stretched and pale.  She turned her head towards the front of the car, and saw her face.  It was small and far away but getting closer, the image was crisp in her eye, she saw herself. She loved what she saw, she saw all her beauty, and she saw that she was flawless.  Never before had she just looked, without the perceived cultural guilt of being good looking.  She was not searching for the enviable flaw, so she did not find it.  But the reflection was attached to something.

A Truck’s mirror!

Ana only had time to turn her head. She heard more than felt.

*Crunch.*