Cars vanish from the road. He runs on the abandoned street towards high ground, trying to escape the rising sea. Street signs collapse as a wall of water crashes behind him. He looks back to see it swallow the tourists.
“Matthew!”
He trips over and falls onto his face. The flood overtakes him and rises rapidly. He tries to swim against the fierce current and smashes into a tree, reaching for a branch and clinging for dear life.
A loud buzz fills the air.
Where am I?
He squints as a spotlight shines in his face. A robot voice comes from a police drone flying above. “Citizen, get down from there!”
Austin returns to reality, finding himself back in Nob Hill clinging to a tree. His head throbs and his neck pulsates in pain.
It’s nighttime?
He looks up and sees a small copter overhead. Panicked, he releases his grip and falls onto a pile of trash.
The robot approaches Austin. “You are under arrest.”
He covers his eyes from the spotlight. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Stay where you are.”
He picks up a rock and flings it at the machine, then sprints back towards the train station, running through alleys.
His smartglasses chime. “Austin, the police are following you.”
“Shut up, Isaac, I don’t need your help.”
“I suggest you contact your psychiatrist.”
Austin spots officers in uniform. He runs into a lot and dives into an empty tent, trembling in fear. His heart races as he hears a pack of wild dogs barking. A pit of misery gnaws in his stomach.
I’m more depressed than before. 2CC made me worse!
He begins to cry.
Olivia, why won’t you call me?
Someone approaches. “Get out of my tent!”
Austin leaps out and runs towards the Hyperloop station. Along the way, his smartglasses vibrate—there’s an incoming phone call from Anil Anaya. It rings several times and he considers rejecting the call. He stops running.
Maybe it’s good news.
Austin answers the call. “Anil?”
“Dr. Sanders, do you have a minute?”
“Not really.”
“It won’t take long. I just want to tell you that I solved the CIA project.”
Austin rubs his neck. “What are you talking about?”
“The encrypted radio signal from space, remember?”
“You mean ‘Johnny B. Goode’?”
“Yes.”
Austin’s depression lifts and the high returns. Looking up, he sees thousands of stars in the Milky Way galaxy and his jaw drops from the vastness of space.
“Dr. Sanders?”
“Who is this?”
“It’s Anil Anaya.”
“What do you want?”
Anil pauses. “Dr. Sanders, I can call back later.”
“Just tell me the bottom line.”
“The radio signal we received from Barnard’s Star… it’s a countdown ending in two days.”
Austin smiles and turns loopy. “The ‘Johnny B. Goode’ song from space?”
“Yes!”
“It’s a countdown? What happens in two days?”
“I have no idea.”
“Who sent us the signal?”
“We think it’s from an intelligent species near Barnard’s Star.”
“Great news!” His high peaking, Austin laughs madly and skips around Nob Hill like a child. He runs into a pole and smashes his face, giggling hysterically on the ground.
“Dr. Sanders, are you okay?”
“Of course, I’ve never been happier. The world will end in two days.”
“Sir?”
“The countdown… it’s the end of times.”
Anil pauses. “…Dr. Sanders, just to clarify, I don’t know what happens in two days—”
“This is the biggest discovery of the year. We deserve a Nobel Prize or at least a nice dinner somewhere.”
Anil hesitates. “…Dr. Sanders, just one question. Should we inform the CIA? They wanted us to decode the signal today, and the deadline is in a few hours.”
Austin makes a fist. “Screw the CIA! They are a bunch of douche bags and they can do their own work. Damn this bloody War!”
“Sir, are you sure? Will we be in trouble if we ignore the CIA?”
“Let them hack the code for themselves. We can’t go around sharing our discoveries with everyone.”
“Okay, Dr. Sanders, whatever you say.”
“Inform the cavalry and high command. The countdown ends in two days. In 48 hours, we will say goodbye to the Milky Way.”
Anil pauses. “…do you need help, Dr. Sanders? You sound like you’re in a bad place.”
“It’s too late for that, Anil. The clock is ticking. The end times are here!”
7.
“MR. KHARON, sorry to interrupt your session. The CIA deputy director is on the line.”
Lying face down on a massage table, Manos opens his eyes and turns his head to Felina at the door. Marble stretches across the walls and floors of his luxury bathroom. In the corner, a wooden door leads to a private sauna.
“I’ll take the call,” Manos says.
She closes the door.
Manos turns and stares at two masseuses standing over him. “Don’t just stop. I don’t pay you to hang around.”
The women resume their program. One of them rubs his neck and the other stretches his calf. He grabs a pea-sized speaker from a leather case, placing it in his ear, then lays his head back down and closes his eyes. “Felina, I’m ready for the call.”
“Stand by,” she replies in his earpiece.
Gareth Allen comes on the line. “Manos, my friend, how are you?”
“Decompressing. How’s the CIA, Gareth?”
“Always a crisis brewing.”
Manos laughs. “GoldRock is here to help.”
“I have an update on the China offensive.”
“I’m listening.”
“The President’s press conference is tomorrow. Have you prepared the Information Tariffs?”
“Yes. We are set to launch.”
“How do they look?”
“Like gold. We have a new Google ad platform and our adversaries will pay a steep price to get online. It’s ready for rollout.”
“Advertisements? That doesn’t sound very threatening.”
“Don’t worry, it’s a work of genius. We will slam China and Russia in the gut. They will regret having messed with America.”
“That’s what I want to hear, Manos. Sometimes overwhelming force is the only option.”
“Agreed. With this rollout, we’ll blind them and amputate their legs. As soon as they realize information is no longer free, they will piss their pants!”
“Excellent.”
“Should we go live with it?”
“Not yet. The President is preparing for his address. He will outline tough measures against China. He won’t mention Google by name but your work is front and center.”
“Got it. So we launch after the President’s speech?”
“Yes.”
Manos raises a fist. “Great news! That’s our final milestone. When do you send me payment?”
Gareth’s voice lowers. “What’s the hurry? You’ll get your money.” He pauses and changes the subject. “Listen, I have another request for you.”
“What’s that?”
“Last week, we intercepted an encrypted message from New China.”
“You mean from space?”
“Yes. It appears the Chinese have developed a secret communication system for their Mars colony. We’ve been unable to hack their messages.”
Manos grins. “How can I help?”
“I tasked someone at Google to decipher the code. The deadline was yesterday, and I’ve heard nothing from him.”