Jacob closed the door and looked around at the candles floating in the room. “Room,” he said, then decided to keep the candles. “Never mind, Room.”
He took the beer from the table and downed it. Now what? Stream a show? Go for a walk? Give Gomez a call?
He looked at the code deck sitting on the table. The glow of the candles reflected on its surface.
“Room, what’s the time?”
“9:37 PM, CT.”
“That’s still early,” Jacob said, taking the code deck from the table. He could program an hour and a half worth of the code and still be asleep by midnight. He wouldn’t have a full night’s sleep, but he could use some code to get himself going in the morning. It wouldn’t be the first time.
He tapped the deck and its display projected. He waved it over his tattoo, connecting it to his subdermal chip. He flicked his finger, sending the code to his chip.
By design, euphoria swelled in his body. Some code sent its effects in waves, but the code he and Xia developed swelled in the body, like a time-lapsed video of a rising tide, the effects slowly building as the chip at the base of his skull sent instructions to his brain, activating his opioid receptors. For a moment, he thought he could feel warmth coming from the flames of the candles floating around him. He reached to touch one, his hand passing through its projected light. He cupped the flame in his palm. He blew on it to no effect.
He needed some nicotine and began searching for the nic-stem. There was something about the candles that tugged at his mind. He found the nic-stem and took a drag. What about the candles? The euphoria continued to swell in his body. Soon it would pulse, with each pulse intensifying, just as he and Xia had designed it. It is glorious, he thought. But the candles. What about the candles? The first pulse moved through his body, and he sat down. One hundred candles filled his vision and his mind, mirroring and reflecting off of every surface in the room. What about the candles? Another pulse. What about…
The scramblers. He forgot to turn them back on.
“Shit shit shit shit shit,” he mumbled, trying to think through the pulse that felt so glorious.
He reached for the code deck, but it wasn’t where he thought he left it. He looked around the room, through the pulses and the glow of the candles. All was light and reflection. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. Light and reflection. Pulse. He had to find the deck. He had to turn off the code. He had to turn off the candles.
“Room, end,” he managed to get out before the door blew inward, the sound and the force of the explosion knocking him back onto the kitchen floor.
He tried to get up. Through the haze of the explosion and the glow of the candles, he saw a rifle butt coming down. He tried to dodge it but was not fast enough. It caught his jaw. Another pulse from the code filled his body and he could hear the crack as his jaw broke, but he didn’t feel it. His mouth hung open, blood and teeth dripping to the kitchen floor. Someone grabbed him by the arms and forced his face to the floor. They pushed his arms high up his back and cuffed him. A tooth lay in his field of vision, too close to be in focus. Beyond his tooth, he could see the living room filling up with the boots of corporate police. He watched a boot step on and crack his code deck. Then another boot, and another, the light of the candles reflecting in each boot’s perfect shine. He tried to lift his head. He caught a glimpse of an officer in full protective gear before his face was pushed back down.
“Jacob Quince,” an amplified voice said, “you are hereby released from your employment with Your Better Life Incorporated on the grounds you have independently and without authorization developed and used code while under contract with Your Better Life Incorporated. As per the terms of your contract, you are sentenced to serve one year in prison and two years of probation.”
He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the pulse building in his body.
Chapter 1
East Texas burned, and the January Houston sky glowed red and gray. A disagreement between two corporate CEOs culminated in one corporation sending fifty drones to drop small scale incendiary devices on the private estate of the rival CEO. The drought that had baked Texas since the summer made the Texas Piney Woods perfect kindling and the fire raged out of control.
Because of the fires, there had been no real sunshine for a week, but Jacob still wore sunglasses. It was his final day of probation, and he stood in front of the probation office gathering his thoughts before he went in. Feeling ready, he took off the glasses and looked into the facial recognition scanner, blinking to adjust for the light. Inside, he took off his backpack and took a seat, thankful this would be the last time he’d have to wait in this depressing room. He tried to find a comfortable position and to avoid the stains that dotted the chair. The smell of stale coffee only partially hid the aroma of the man in the chair next to him.
He tried to take his mind off of the smell by watching the news feed on the wall screen. A representative of the corporation that started the fires spoke, his image superimposed over video of pine trees burning.
“This is the fault of climate change. If our politicians could get their act together and do something about climate change, we would not be in a drought. We all know it is only going to get worse. That is why we
