CHAPTER THREE

Los Angeles, California

Downtown

3 p.m.

Later that day, two uniformed DSP agents carted off boxes marked with red evidence tape and loaded them into an unmarked cargo van. Agent Alicia Blake broke off from the detail toward the line of parked vehicles. She approached a speeder; one of the gull-wing doors opened.

The tall eco-friendly skyscrapers’ floors slowly rotated, reflecting their advertisements’ artistry off the rain-spattered windshield of a typical narc speeder.

Her petite frame slid into the passenger seat and waited as her partner, Agent Perkins, a stocky, buzz-cut ex-marine, stuffed a freshly cuffed criminal into the back seat. Alicia’s hazel-flecked eyes drifted to the windshield, where a cluster of dark clouds loomed. Her optic displayed that there was little to no chance of acid rain, along with the barometric pressure, temperature, and humidity.

She tapped her bitten-down fingernails on the armrest while the file on their perp took its sweet time to load. Perkins unbuttoned his suit coat to accommodate his barrel chest and leaned in just as the gull-wing door closed. He was holding something.

Alicia sensed his stare and broke away from an optic ad for Kilgen Labs - Designer Organs of Tomorrow.

“The world’s turned to shit,” she muttered.

“You just figured that out?” Perkins held a translucent chip between his fingers. She rolled her eyes and held out her hand. He grinned and placed the chip in her soft-padded palm.

“How much did he net?” she asked, activating her optic.

She realized she was sifting through her own browsing history - cat food ads and a few shady hacker tools. With a quick flick of her optic cursor, she saved them for later. Switching to the speeder’s menu, she selected camera mode and activated the analytical prompt. Holding the chip under the dome light, she watched as the optic blinked, capturing an image. Alphanumeric code surged beside the display, analyzing the contents.

“Ten thousand, give or take,” Perkins said.

The results popped up. “Chai? Huh.”

Perkins nodded.

She stole a look at the perp in the back. “Double score. We’ve got you on wireless fraud too, from your own servers. Hyperlinked to China, or worse, Russia. That tacks on another ten. How’s fifteen to twenty sound?”

“I’m not talking,” he growled, folding his arms.

His Globalist suit makes the back seat of our speeder look good, Alicia thought.

“Federal time, no parole. Might not make it out. Let me guess – you’re one of those honorable scumbags, aren’t ya?” A tingle in her ear signaled a new notification. A file icon appeared in her optic. She opened it, sifted through the virtual images, and hit the share icon - sending the visuals to the speeder’s rear display.

“Except I don’t think you counted on this.” She spun in her bucket seat, fingers gliding across the console, and projected images onto the divider glass. “Look familiar?”

The CEO’s blank stare locked on the speeder’s back window.

“I thought so, you piece of shit. I picked up on your scent when one of our street girls brought in an unusual amount of chips. When I dug deeper, I found more. That’s when I sunk my hooks into your identity theft network. Couldn’t quite get far enough. What else are you into? Sex trafficking?” She smiled.

“She will; she’s one of the best. You’re better off talking now,” Perkins said, finishing his notes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Let’s see if this jogs your memory.” She reached into her backpack on the floor and grabbed her baseball cap. Her optic displayed the link feature. She selected the enhancement of a thirteen-year-old girl. Pulling the cap on, she let the visor fall.

“You forget about me?” She pouted.

Then she removed the cap, her face morphing back - cracked lips and all.

Turning to the windshield, she angled the mirror on the visor and wiped away the flaking black eye shadow. Using her optic, she prompted the rear cam to check his reaction.

“Either way, I love a challenge. This one’s going to be one of our all-time high scores.” She turned from Perkins, then back to the perp. “When you’re ready to talk, let us know, ‘cause whether you do or don’t, we’re gonna say you did anyway. How long do you think a CEO like you lasts in a federal lockup?” Alicia mimicked a hanging gesture.

Perkins smiled, dropped the speeder into drive, and they sped off.

***

Back in the Celeritous lab, sparks of thought became more frequent, reigniting the flame of his awareness and pulling him into a low level of consciousness. Ugh, it feels like my mind is being pushed through a small hole. My eyes are tingling. I keep telling my hands to rub them but there’s nothing. I feel like I have a sore throat and earache at the same time.

Wait, what? Where am I? The hospital?

It’s dark, like space without the stars.

I’m alive, I think.

A hallucination perhaps? A dream?

Where am I?

Elsa? Darling, are you here?

Have I gone mad? I cannot see, hear, or taste a thing, but - but I sense something. What’s that? It’s muffled … can’t make it out. It’s a repetitive something. What is that noise? It has a familiar pace; it’s starting to come to me.

Aah, Mozart!

One thing is for certain; I can reason and carry on a conversation with myself. I dread what I’ve become.

Maybe this is death, or a test. Another dimension? Perhaps.

Something pulls on my consciousness. Whatever it is eludes me. It’s like a vacuum, sucking me down a Schwarzschild black hole chock-full of fear and despair. I have no answers; therefore …

I have no appetite for a deep breath … yet I’m breathing.

Building up to the crescendo is all that seems to make sense right now.

Aagghh! Madness!

It appears the physical world and I are no longer partners. Everything is cerebral, internal. What’s governing me? God? Man? Science?

What is the last thing I remember? I was in the hospital … The unending pain, one like I’ve never felt before, and then, in a moment, it all went dark. I cannot see outside myself. Am I stripped down to sheer essence?

Am I floating? Like a spirit? But I feel like I’m in a boat, like I have a sense of buoyancy.

There are different levels of consciousness, to be sure; but here it appears I have only myself. This is rather disconcerting. Am I to spend all of eternity here, wherever this is? With no understanding or destination, I’m sure to go mad. Is this how it ends? Or is this how it is for all mankind?