went around the house. His window shade was
up, his bed made and the virtualmode transporters on the dresser.
Turns out, he wasn’t home. GPS located him on the Interstate
heading for Charleston . Maybe his grandparents opened their
eyes and saw him wasting away. There were plenty of good doctors in
town, ones that specialized in gear addiction.
I nojakked him and got his voice mail.
“Streeter, hey, it’s Socket. Listen, I’m
sorry about barging in on you yesterday and snooping around, but
you should’ve seen yourself, man. You needed an intervention in a
bad way. My only hope is that you’re getting help. Listen, I’m
sitting on your front porch, right now. I’m going to hang out for a
couple hours in case you get home. I’m probably leaving at the end
of the week and don’t know when I’ll be back.
“I want to see you before I go. I’m sorry
about the mess you’re in. I miss hanging out with you and Chute, I
wish it wasn’t like this, I really do. If I don’t see you today, I
hope you can make it to her game tonight. Just ring me when you get
there. Maybe afterwards, you and Chute and me can stop for a bite
and live some old times. You know, like we used to. Anyways, hope
to see you soon, buddy. Take care.”
I stayed on the front porch the entire two
hours, just like I said I would, occasionally checking the time,
but for the most part I watched traffic. When two hours were up,
Streeter was still downtown. Seemed like going to a tagghet game
that night was not likely. I’d have to come back to his house the
next day. This time, I’d bring Chute.
At least Granny would remember her.
That afternoon, I got more updates from the
Garrison, this time an encrypted message through a secure
connection. The message was narrated by a standard animated voice,
announcing the planned funeral for one of Pike’s victims. The other
two victims were undergoing psychic decompression, but they were
expected to make full recoveries. The Garrison would be back to
standard operation within three days. Just in time for my
return.
Pon was in transit, probably still occupied
with Pike’s secure imprisonment. I didn’t expect to hear from him
until I was back. For some reason, I wanted to hear his voice
again. I must be losing my mind.
I was in the kitchen when the imbed planted
in my neck began to tingle, spreading around my scalp like electric
fingers. I hadn’t triggered it to activate. It blurred my vision as
it connected with my nervous system. Suddenly, someone was in the
room.
Pon faced me, hands locked behind his back. I
was seeing him, but he wasn’t really there. No one else would see
him, though. He was transporting his image directly into my
eyes.
Pon looked around, left and right, and
smirked: A guttural acknowledgement of my home. Not a
recording.
He looked back at me. “Good morning,
cadet.”
I nodded.
“You’ll be reporting to the Garrison in three
days. I expect you to be fully prepared to continue training. I
will not accept any reduction in your physical stamina. You will
present a full synopsis and demonstrate a true understanding of
your last exercise.”
He outlined the physical exercises to be
completed before returning and also explained that a virtualmode
environment would be uploaded to my link along with a mission
statement to be completed, which also had to be analyzed. I wasn’t
sure if my mom approved, but I wasn’t going to ask. Sooner or
later, I’d be back in the training room and she wouldn’t be
around.
“Is Pike secured?” I asked.
“Do not concern yourself with such matters.”
He paced to the right, stepping over a crumpled shirt. Is this
really a projection? “I want you to remain focused on your
training. Other matters will unfold as needed.” He stopped, lifted
his chin with a slight nod. “Engage only in the present
moment.”
The electric fingers released my scalp and my
eyes stung as the imbed disconnected. Pon disappeared. I touched
the back of my
up, his bed made and the virtualmode transporters on the dresser.
Turns out, he wasn’t home. GPS located him on the Interstate
heading for Charleston . Maybe his grandparents opened their
eyes and saw him wasting away. There were plenty of good doctors in
town, ones that specialized in gear addiction.
I nojakked him and got his voice mail.
“Streeter, hey, it’s Socket. Listen, I’m
sorry about barging in on you yesterday and snooping around, but
you should’ve seen yourself, man. You needed an intervention in a
bad way. My only hope is that you’re getting help. Listen, I’m
sitting on your front porch, right now. I’m going to hang out for a
couple hours in case you get home. I’m probably leaving at the end
of the week and don’t know when I’ll be back.
“I want to see you before I go. I’m sorry
about the mess you’re in. I miss hanging out with you and Chute, I
wish it wasn’t like this, I really do. If I don’t see you today, I
hope you can make it to her game tonight. Just ring me when you get
there. Maybe afterwards, you and Chute and me can stop for a bite
and live some old times. You know, like we used to. Anyways, hope
to see you soon, buddy. Take care.”
I stayed on the front porch the entire two
hours, just like I said I would, occasionally checking the time,
but for the most part I watched traffic. When two hours were up,
Streeter was still downtown. Seemed like going to a tagghet game
that night was not likely. I’d have to come back to his house the
next day. This time, I’d bring Chute.
At least Granny would remember her.
That afternoon, I got more updates from the
Garrison, this time an encrypted message through a secure
connection. The message was narrated by a standard animated voice,
announcing the planned funeral for one of Pike’s victims. The other
two victims were undergoing psychic decompression, but they were
expected to make full recoveries. The Garrison would be back to
standard operation within three days. Just in time for my
return.
Pon was in transit, probably still occupied
with Pike’s secure imprisonment. I didn’t expect to hear from him
until I was back. For some reason, I wanted to hear his voice
again. I must be losing my mind.
I was in the kitchen when the imbed planted
in my neck began to tingle, spreading around my scalp like electric
fingers. I hadn’t triggered it to activate. It blurred my vision as
it connected with my nervous system. Suddenly, someone was in the
room.
Pon faced me, hands locked behind his back. I
was seeing him, but he wasn’t really there. No one else would see
him, though. He was transporting his image directly into my
eyes.
Pon looked around, left and right, and
smirked: A guttural acknowledgement of my home. Not a
recording.
He looked back at me. “Good morning,
cadet.”
I nodded.
“You’ll be reporting to the Garrison in three
days. I expect you to be fully prepared to continue training. I
will not accept any reduction in your physical stamina. You will
present a full synopsis and demonstrate a true understanding of
your last exercise.”
He outlined the physical exercises to be
completed before returning and also explained that a virtualmode
environment would be uploaded to my link along with a mission
statement to be completed, which also had to be analyzed. I wasn’t
sure if my mom approved, but I wasn’t going to ask. Sooner or
later, I’d be back in the training room and she wouldn’t be
around.
“Is Pike secured?” I asked.
“Do not concern yourself with such matters.”
He paced to the right, stepping over a crumpled shirt. Is this
really a projection? “I want you to remain focused on your
training. Other matters will unfold as needed.” He stopped, lifted
his chin with a slight nod. “Engage only in the present
moment.”
The electric fingers released my scalp and my
eyes stung as the imbed disconnected. Pon disappeared. I touched
the back of my
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