Complete Atopia Chronicles

pssi technology into our systems, the result was a messy cross-licensing arrangement. I had Aunt Patricia on my side, but it had still been a fierce fight.

“Give me one good reason we should let this happen,” fumed Dr. David Baxter at the Cognix meeting when we’d finally gotten it all approved.

He’d been steamed since Infinixx would be stealing some of his thunder as the first Atopian-platform product release, and wouldn’t be under his direct control as PR Director.

“David, you’ve seen all the phutures Nancy presented. Almost every scenario comes out pushing the Cognix stock higher as we establish this with early adopters,” countered Patricia. “You’re just annoyed because it’s not under your thumb.”

“That has nothing to do with it,” replied Dr. Baxter, and the tumult had continued as the assembly argued back and forth while Kesselring sat quietly and watched us all, sighing.

We’d been at a stalemate when Jimmy had magically produced the trump card.

“Okay everyone, I will give you one very good reason,” Jimmy shouted out above the arguing as he stood up, raising his hands to quiet everyone. He winked at me.

Until recently, I hadn’t spoken to Jimmy in years, ever since the incident at my thirteenth birthday party. I felt somehow responsible, and it had been just too awkward to talk about. But since he’d been nominated to the Security Council, however, we’d been reintroduced on a professional level, and it was as if nothing had ever happened. In fact, Jimmy and I had immediately struck a close working relationship, and he’d been a big supporter of my bid from the start.

I had no idea what he was going to say and we all waited in anticipation.

“I’ve managed to secure an agreement with both India and China to launch simultaneously with us.”

Gasps issued forth around the table. Getting India and China to agree on anything these days was close to impossible with new Water War skirmishes springing up almost daily. Details of the negotiations sprang into everyone’s workspaces the moment Jimmy spoke and we all dropped off a splinter to have a look. Having India and China agree to a simultaneous launch wouldn’t just be a commercial coup, but a major political one for Atopia as well.

“How in the world?” said Dr. Baxter, his voice trailing off while his mind assimilated the back-story.

“Jimmy, why didn’t you tell me?” I asked breathlessly in a private world I opened to him.

This was it. This was what would make my dreams come true. Thankful tears streamed out from my eyes.

“I just didn’t want to get your hopes up,” replied one of Jimmy’s splinters in our private world. “It was a long shot. I wanted you to focus on getting it done yourself and not have to rely on me, but, hey, it worked.” He shrugged and smiled.

“You’re giving up a lot here,” said Kesselring back in the conference space, speaking for the first time as he reviewed the details of the deal.

“A lot,” he repeated, “but I can see the balancing act, and the payoff. And this will help to keep the media attention off these damn storms.”

Kesselring looked towards Jimmy and smiled, nodding his congratulations.

“I assume you’re good with this Nancy?” asked Kesselring, and of course I agreed.

Approving murmurs began to circulate. With a proud look, Aunt Patricia squeezed my hand hard, beaming at both me and Jimmy.

11

Identity: William McIntyre

Adensegray fog hung around me. No dampness, though, no heaviness-in fact I couldn’t feel anything. In the distance, a light approached and began filling the space around me with a soft radiance that was growing and alive. Curious, I moved towards the light. It grew brighter and brighter, surrounding and enveloping me, and then swallowed me whole, painlessly, soundlessly.

I awoke with a start in my bed, blinking, breathing quickly, looking around and trying to calm myself down. The image of the fog was fading. Was I just in a fog, on the water?What was that about? I must have been dreaming again. I tried pinging Bob, Sid, Brigitte, but nobody answered-weird. I felt lightheaded. Maybe I’d better go and get something to eat to shake out the cobwebs a bit.

I got out of bed and walked over to the fridge, and pulled out an apple, some bread to toast, and after a moment of thought, reached into the cupboard to pull out some instant oatmeal. I shook out the oatmeal into a bowl, poured some water over it and watched the water start to steam and boil as it soaked into the thermo- reactive particles embedded in the oatmeal.

I watched the oatmeal, mesmerized like it was one of my campfires. This is your brain on oatmeal, I thought, watching it bubble and splutter.

Within a few seconds it was done and piping hot. Topping it off with some brown sugar, I sat down at my counter, shining the apple on my pajama pant leg. I smelled burnt toast. Am I having a stroke? The toast popped. Oh right. Calm down.

I wondered what was new in the future this morning, so I flicked on some Phuture News Network and waited for a flood of what was about to happen. Blank. Nothing was about to happen, apparently. All that was playing on Phuture News were images of me watching Phuture News with my oatmeal before me. Must be some kind of screwy trick Sid had going again. Ah well, I wasn’t going to play along. I just sat and quietly ate my oatmeal.

A deep chill passed by me, and a wave of goose bumps shivered across my exposed arms. Suddenly, I was having an out-of-body experience, watching myself as if through a pane of frosted glass. I was there, but not there. I felt calm. All the worries I had a second ago, about work, Brigitte, money-everything was suddenly gone, and I realized how small these worries really were. I was so calm, so cold, and there was that fog again, so familiar and yet so alien. Where was I? And why did I want to know?

My brain snapped out of it, as if wrenched from a bear trap. Whoa, what is going on? I blinked hard and shook my head, looking down at my congealing oatmeal. Phuture News was on now, and apparently the odds were that our friends Orlando and Melinda were going to have a big cat fight soon. I suddenly liked the idea of cats.

Most people had already lined up on team Orlando, so I opted for Melinda. I always liked the undercat, and at least this time is wasn’t Adriana. As I watched, clever taunts were being devised and their viral values sized up by several off-island marketing agencies, eager to reach the Atopian crowd.

The social storm clouds grew as I dug into my cooling oatmeal, watching the action unfold. It reminded me of Brigitte. My stomach tightened.

I put down my spork.

My brain snapped out of it as if wrenched from…a bear trap. Something was very wrong. I blinked hard again and shook my head, looking down at the congealing oatmeal. Didn’t I just eat that? Phuture News was now blank, and back to images of me staring at images of me staring at images of me staring at images of me.

The oatmeal was sputtering and bubbling in the bowl as steam issued forth from it. I was standing back next to the fridge, holding the apple, about to shine it on my pajama leg. Wait a minute. Didn’t this just happen? I was deja vuing hard, losing my grip. My chest tightened, and my breathing was labored. Jesus. I thought was I having a heart attack, or maybe a stroke. I smelled burnt toast.

“Wally!” I cried out. “Wally! Where the hell are you?”

Where the heck was he when I really needed the guy? Wasn’t he supposed to be watching out for me?

“Willy, calm down, everything is okay,” I heard Wally say, his voice soothing, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. “Don’t worry Willy, everything is fine. Calm down, your vitals are way off the chart. You’re probably feeling chest pain, it’s just anxiety. Your blood stream is flooding with cortisol and adrenalin. Take a deep breath, calm down.”

I took in a deep breath, held it, and slowly let it out. My cheeks were flushed.

“Calm down,” I told myself, “calm down.”