When I came back into consciousness I was in complete darkness, my head throbbing with an unbearable pain. My body was curled into an unnatural position with my arms pulled behind me back. Judging from the mustiness of the air and the position of my body I was sure I was in a small enclosed space, lying against some kind of smooth carpet over top a hard surface. I blinked my eyes several times to see if there was any light I could let in but all I felt was some rough cloth tied over my eyes. The fabric was drenched with my tears. I tried to move my hands to see if I could grasp something but, they were bound tightly along with my legs, to even try to move them resulted in instant discomfort. It felt like there was some kind of solid tube made of plastic pushed into my throat, it let in just enough air in that I could breathe but, I couldn’t move my vocal cords to make a noise. I tried to stay calm and think of a way out but, I was freaking out.
With some effort I lifted my head up and it instantly hit against a low ceiling. Fearing the worse I pushed and shifted until my body rolled to the side and I quickly came in contact with walls.
The space had to be about 7 feet all around, just big enough to fit me and leave some space on the edges. This brought back the fears I had gone through earlier today.
I was in a coffin. She—that redheaded girl--
was going to entomb me alive. How long
would I have to scratch at the low ceilings and walls until I died or someone
came for help ? Is this really the end of my life ?
I couldn’t think of what I could have done to deserve this kind of brutality. I had seen crime all over the television like any other person, but never imagined I would be the victim of some hopeless crime, it’s not like I had any enemies. My parents had somewhat good standing but, I can’t imagine anyone hating them either. I wondered if I would ever see Mom or Dad again.
I heard the sound of metal clasping, footsteps and metallic rigging from the outside. It sounded like the engineers sealing my tomb. I tried to scream out but the gag would not let a sound out and it only ended up hurting my throat more. There was a sudden lurch causing my body to roll and impact hard on my back and then I felt the tomb I was in starting to move forward with a familiar hissing noise. I could hear the dulled sounds of voices and static coming from the opposite wall. Blindly, I scooted over to wall where the sound was coming from and I pushed my ear against it.
It couldn’t be.
I kicked around my feet until I felt a familiar pair of dress shoes in the corner.
I was in the trunk of my own car. This had to be some kind of screwed up carjacking. I leaned closer to the wall where the voices had been to see if I could make out some kind of conversation but, all I could hear was the radio.
“Good Morning, Boston-Atlantic Meto,” the anchor , William Case said. “It is 9 AM on March 27th, 2081. The DOW is up 87 points. The highest rise given to Apple no surprise,today. Reports say there is already a line for Apple’s Beta Syndicates. It is so crazy in fact a rep from Apple says all purchases online will be ceased because of overload. If you have not pre-ordered you have to pick yours up at any local store for 399$--,”
“Now, I’m guessing your boyfriend has been standing in line since 5AM, huh ?,” Another anchor, Linda Gibson joked with him.
“I have to stay on top to give our listeners some information,” Case said continuing the banter, “Now, let’s go to Max for traffic. . . ”
My mind immediately went into overdrive trying to make sense of things. I knew that William Case and Linda Gibson only came on in the South District so that told me I was still near enough to home. Unless this was a podcast but, it didn’t seem to be.
And If today was the 27th then that meant that I was missing a day. That morning or rather yesterday morning seemed to hold no bearings with me anymore. Who had I crossed paths with to cause this ? The only thing I did the day before was go to the Kyto funeral.
-2-
I imagined yesterday was going to be some kind of experience for me, something to teach me about the true meaning of life about living in the moment. In my 19 years I had never been to a funeral before and it was something I had never thought about. If anything it was a blessing that I never had to say goodbye to anyone I loved.
It was the day before spring break, and I was sure I had passed my last midterm exam. I planned to spend the rest of the day at the arcade when Dad called me and told me Mr. Kyto had died. At first I didn’t comprehend the words and I was completely shocked—Mr.Kyto was relatively young and had always just been there--a friendly neighbor, Dad’s boss, Allison’s Dad. I knew the entire science community grieving his loss.
Mr. Kyto had been the founder of Kytoxcin, a synthetic version of an isotope that made all BioFrams what they were today. He made them more accessible to everyone. The technology in Kytoxcin was what the entire company, Tempus Corp was build on.The first thing I asked Dad was why Mr. Kyto’s own work could not save him but, he explained to me that it just wasn’t possible sometimes. Mr. Kyto was one of the richest men in the country but, you could never tell by talking to him. He always talked about his humble beginnings when had enlisted in the war at 16 and moved up through the ranks to general before he was 24. Hearing his stories were the only things that made history interesting.
The morning of the funeral, I was in my childhood room slowly getting dressed putting on a pair of neat black pants, shirt and tie. I had my Syndicate blasting the most positive and uplifting music I had. I was finishing the last knot on my tie when I heard dad coming into my room. Ever since I had heard about the death, I knew Dad was going to want to take me aside for a talk eventually. He loved to start these father-son chats. They didn’t bother me to much because I was happy my Dad loved me enough to spend a few minutes a day actually talking to me.
“Alan, why don’t you try a more traditional tie ?,” Dad chastised me. He was wearing his usual—a complete suit-- but he had on a pair of dark shades.
“This is the only one I have in black,” I told him. The tie was not the much different from the one he had on, mine was just thinner—a little more contemporary. I was sure Mr. Kyto would understand.
“Are you going to be okay ?” Dad asked standing in front of me in the mirror adjusting my tie. He stood beside me and looked into my reflection in the mirror. There was no doubt I was my father’s son—we looked so much alike.
“Yes, Dad,” I told him, “Are you ?”
“Of course, I mean I’ve been better obviously,” Dad answered,” Alan, you know you don’t have to stay the whole weekend—I know it’s spring break,”
“I’m not even thinking about that. This is more important,” I told him.
He paused staring at our reflections.
“That’s my son,” he smiled
I was in my second year of studying advertising at the Atlanta Metro College of Media. It had taken a lot of work to get in and my second year had been stressing me out to the point I considered dropping out. When spring break came around my roommate Marco had invited me to the shore with his friends and I wanted to go but, I wanted to be here as well.
“Well, hey the new Beta is coming out in a couple days what do you say we buy some for the family ?,” Dad suggested walking out my bedroom door.
“That would be so cool,” I smiled as I followed him out the door.
The internet had been around forever and it only got better but the advent of the syndicate was the only thing that revolutionized the entire information sphere. Syndicates enabled everyone to be constantly connected to the internet and information through a small device that went into your ear. The Syndicate was connected through the implants every fetus had implanted in the womb or in invitro. Once it was turned on it used hologram technology to bring up any information with the touch of a button or a few spoken words.
The basic government issue Syndicate was given to all citizens but in the last 50 years companies have been producing specialty ones with even more advanced features. Every few months a company would come up with a new one that made the older ones obsolete. The Sony S4 --that I had-- came out last year and was the first one with a partnership with the NBA to provide access to chat logs instantly with the players . It was cool and had a lot of perks but, it was nothing spectacular. On the other hand the new Apple Syndicate was supposed to have Simstin capabilities, better holographic technology and the ability to sync with old Syndicates. Like everyone else, I read everything I could about it and knew all the info but, I wasn’t planning on getting one. I never really asked Dad for anything but the fact that he was offering did make me feel better for deciding to stay and after all it would be nice to spend time with my family.
Dad and I headed downstairs where Mom was waiting for us. Mom was wearing a black dress and shawl that had a bit of glitter embroidered in it and high black heels. Her eyes—which were also lined in black—where looking on the tv screen where one of her soap operas were playing. She was leaning across the kitchen counter-- just slightly into the screen her eyes catching every word the actor was saying. Mom looked more into the show than she usually was.
“You look beautiful, dear,” Dad said putting his hands around her, “Are you ready to go ?”
“Yes,” she said turning her eyes from the screen long enough to kiss dad. “ I guess I just never realized how interesting this show was,”
“Fiction is always better than reality,” Dad commented holding tightly on to Mom’s hand
We walked out the door to and took the elevator to where dad’s
Lincoln U23 was waiting in the garage. The sleek sports car was usually an eye
catching red but, Dad had it painted a deep black to be more appropriate. Mom an
d I got into the backseat while Dad got
into the front. He pulled up the GPS system which appeared before him—a
hologram floating above his face. He taped in the coordinates of the burial
grounds and the car beeped and then
started; it’s engine driving forward on it’s own internal computer.
Mom placed her hand on her small pink Sony7 Syndicate and I could tell she was watching the soap opera from before.
“You know Mom that show has a Simstim cast,” I told her
“Hmm ?” she questioned me, pushing her finger on a button invisible to me--pausing the show.
“That show has a Simstim,” I repeated,” You can view it on the Apple Syndicates, Dad said he may buy them.”
“Alan is referring to that Simulated Stimulation technology, honey ” Dad explained,” It allows you to become a character in the series or be completely immersed in it. It’s not cutting edge technology mostly, just more entertainment shit.”
“That sounds nice but, I guess I’m not that cutting edge,” she said and turned her Syndicate back on.
I turned my own music back on and
looked out the windows as we drove past
the rest of the metallic high rises that
made up our neighborhood. Our
neighborhood was made up almost entirely of employees of Asus Corporation—the company
that produced Kytocxin. Everyone from the senior executives to the lunch cooks
lived in those few blocks of the South Disrtict. The neighborhood wasn’t exactly rich, it was pretty average compared
to any other city blocks. Most families
lived in the tall columns of apartments that were built on inside of the
exposed iron scaffolding. 
Each apartment was a different size but most of them
were 4 bedroom or more and most had stairs. The few single homes where short
high-rises in-built wall to wall with the apartment complexes. Any empty space in between the buildings had
continually running hologram ads and screens giving news updates.
When we approached a stoplight the large projected image on the corner of Lincoln and 5th had a familiar face.
“Hey, look,” I said pointing to the image.
The screen was showing a picture of Mr.Kyto and the captions had a few words about his life and death.
“He was a local celebrity,” Dad sighed,” Most people don’t know the security of their lives lived in this man.”
The car finally pulled up to a gray
high-rise and even though all of the skyscrapers around it were gray this
building seemed to be a shade darker tha
n the rest. We exited the car and it
sped away to the valet as we walked into the lobby of the building. The lobby
looked like a large ballroom with a expansive marble floor that picked up every
sound. All of the holo-screens had been turned off and were projecting as just
large black squares. People were
milling around talking in soft conversation, most of them were older adults who
worked with Dad. Dad entered the lobby with his arm around mom’s waist and the other on my
shoulder and we were instantly greeted by friends.
“Mr. Gray, I just can’t believe it,” Mr. Lewis, the office manager of Tempus,greeted Dad
Dad shook his hand solemnly
“I know,” Dad said,”And I’ve told you, call me Henry,”
“Alright, Henry” Mr.Lewis laughed and turned to Mom and I, “ Cielle you look beautiful as always and Alan it is quite amazing how you’ve grown,”
I nodded while Dad and Mom descended
into polite conversation with Mr.Lewis
I spotted Allison sitting by a table by herself carefully stacking cheese cubes on a small plate. I whispered to Mom where I was going and I went over to Allison
“I’m so sorry,” I said to her putting an arm around the small of her back.
“Thanks,” she smiled as we hugged
We sat in silence as more people came over to her-- all giving her their condolences. At 17, Allison was a few years younger than me but, we had always been good acquaintances.
“Can I see it ?,” she asked
“Oh, um yeah,” I said and rolled up the sleeve of my black shirt to show her the tattoo on my wrist.
The tattoo was part of IDsyn that connected me to everything in the virtual information database. The simple pattern of lines not only looked cool but, also was my ID and information for everything. It contained information for how I paid for things, allowed me to get past the house’s security system, started my car, even contained all my medical information. All anyone had to do was scan my wrist.
Everyone has an IDsyn and most people kept their IDsyn codes on accessories like rings or in my parents case-- and others in their generation---on cards. But, most of us kept our identity where it should be ; apart of us.
Getting the code tattooed had been the first things I did as an independent action. In one sense it made things easier but, the real reason I got it was because I thought it looked cool.
“Did it hurt ?” Allison asked
“Of course not,” I told her,” It was done with lasers I barely felt a thing, just some tingling. ”
“I have my stuff on a card still,” she admitted taking out the ID card, “I want to get one of those rings though, like a really pretty one you know ?”
“I think so,” I said.
Allison turned her Syndicate on and blew up the holographic image so, I could see her screen too.
“I like this one,” she said pointing to a picture of a ring, "It's gold and the IDsyn is inscribed into the diamond decoration at the top,"
I took a note of the website address she went to.
“I like it,” I said to her.
Allison and I talked about the usual crap; school, friends, technology and we were constantly interrupted by people coming over to offer Allison a hand on the back and she patiently smiled and thanked them. I had no idea how she handled it without going over the edge.
After a while of mingling we went into the service and I left Allison to be with her family. I stood with Mom while Dad went up the front of the audience to give his eulogy. His was just one of the many in the short vignettes of eulogies given about Mr. Kyto. Dad talked about how Mr. Kyto had helped him get and keep his job as well as being there for him even afterwards. The final eulogy was given by Eugene Marse who was the first man helped by Kytoxcin.
Marse was an older man but walked up to the front with the confidence and gait of a much younger man.
“I was a drunk,” Marse began,” My liver was flat lined and I was in the hospital where the only thing I had left to do was make peace with my god and hope regrets don’t follow me to the beyond. I agreed to an experiment with Mr.Kyto in person. He approached me in the hospital and asked—he offered to pay and I figured after years of being a dead beat the money could go to my daughter and her kids. And then to my surprise a few days later they told me I had a new liver, it matched perfectly a perfect clone of my own and it was enough that even my insurance could cover to pay for it.”
“That day I made a new kind of peace with the help of Mr. Kyto. He gave me a job in the front desk, I made contact with old friends and got my second chance. I have my family again and money and I owe it all to Mr.Kyto.”
I watched enviously as Mom weeped into Dad’s shoulder as the man gave his story. After Marse’s eulogy the large silver casket that had been at the front of the room was lifted by machines and pushed into an open space in the vaulted wall. I tried not to become unnerved by the idea of the body being encased in the wall but, the image shook me. Mom cried even harder and I was trying to keep a brave face and remind myself he was dead—it was just his body in there.
After the service there was a reception in the lobby and it had a totally different atmosphere. Like we all hadn’t witnessed the end of a life. The screens had been turned back on to the news cycle and instead of bereaving everyone was talking joyously about the company. Mom and I took a seat at a small table where there were decorated teapots sitting out.
“What do you think this is ?,” I asked taking the lid off.
“It’s pomegranate tea, mon cher,”
Mom said pouring an even amount into the little plastic cups,” David used to eat pomegranates
everyday because they are good for you—they fight plaque, heart disease,
diabetes --,”
“Diabetes ?,” I asked
"It's a blood disease or something, either way it's not--,"
,” It’s kind of strange he would do that when he could always get new teeth or a new heart," I pointed out, " Not to mention this tea smells terrible,”
“Drink it anyway. Just because you can get sick does not mean you have to,” she said taking a tiny sip.
My mom wasn’t much of a force to
reckon with, she was usually pretty reserved so, it sometimes caught me off
guard when she told me what to do. I turned away from her and looked to Dad who
was sharing a scotch with some of the other men at the bar I just noticed
“Dad’s real popular,” I commented to Mom, who was fixing her makeup.
“Well think about it, Alan,” she said,” It will take more than one person to fill David’s place. There will be some promotions-- your dad could be second in command now,”
Everyone did look happy and it may have been about money but, Allison still looked so lost and sad even though she was surrounded by people trying to cheer her up.
“Mom, I think I’m going to get my car and head out,” I told her
“Going with your friends ?” She questioned, reaching over with her black handkerchief to wipe the stray tear trailing down my eye.
“No, I want to get something for Allison,” I said thinking back to the ring “but, I may catch up with the guys later,”
“Take the tea with you,” she smiled lifting her cup up,”For good health”
I reluctantly took the plastic cup.
The house was still in walking distance from the tomb site so, I walked back to the house to get my car. After throwing my dress shoes in the trunk in exchange for my sneakers I headed for the pawn shop.
_____
-3-
I felt like I was losing air being trapped in the trunk, the gag was making it impossible to swallow and I was sure I was going to suffocate before somebody found me. The car was going over rolling hills now and I was being jerked from side to side of the small space. I had dismissed the idea that these were any enemies of mine, they were probably drug dealers or headhunters—people who stole technology for illegal purposes. If they knew about Dad’s promotion then they knew he would be worth more money and try and ransom me.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Mom and Dad and my friends—the people I loved. I had to get out of here. I moved my head until it was leaning against one of the walls. I turned my head to the side and rubbing it against the side until the fabric over my eyes gave and finally fell.
Now that I could see I could jack back into my Syndicate and get help, all I needed was a signal from outside. I saw where the rear LED lights were installed and I started kicking at it hard until it gave way and dangled inches from the road. Natural light flooded in and my Syndicate came to life. The signal was low and I didn’t want to talk so, I immediately patched into the police and typed help into the connection, hoping someone would pick it up.
When I was confident it had gone through I scooted to the edge to see if I could get a stronger signal and contact my parents. I had half of Dad’s number in when I was suddenly thrown to the back by the car coming to a sudden halt. I heard footsteps and the car trunk opened.
“What the hell ?” said the girl. It was the same redheaded girl from the pawn shop but the sweetness in her voice was gone and replaced with a certain distain.
Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail at the top of her head, her dark bleak eyes were staring hard into mine and she mouthed ‘shit’. She held a gun in her hand and another smaller one holstered to her side. Her eyes made a trail from me to the LED light on the road. She picked it up and I prayed silently for help and then like a divine intervention I could hear the sound of police sirens. She quickly shut the trunk on me placing the LED light back into it’s socket. She placed it back in crooked and I could still see the outside through a crack.
“Is everything okay here ma’am ? Are you hurt ?” an officer asked
“We just had a flat tire,” she lied,” It’s fine though I can fix it,”
“You make a call via a Syndicate ?” the officer asked
“Why, No,” she said
“Can we look around ?” the officer asked
“I’m sorry but, no,” she answered,” You have no right, I’m not--,”
I immediately screamed to get their attention but the gag turned the scream into barely audible noise. It hurt like hell but, I kept screaming until my gag reflexes kicked in and I started chocking.
“We are checking the trunk,” the officer said and I heard footsteps come to the car and then I heard the sounds of gunshots and a stream of blood shot through the crack and onto my foot. The woman went back to the passenger seat and the car sped off.
Oh, god. Had she killed them ?
The car continued for more hours as I tried to make sense of what happened until it finally pulled over. The woman opened the trunk and removed the gag, tears were streaming down my face as I inhaled all the fresh air I could. She watched me pathetically for a few seconds and then held her hand over my nose cutting off air until I was forced to open my mouth where she stuck her weapon in it. The barrel was still warm around my lips.
“Shut up,” she ordered, “And Stand up,”
I got out of the trunk my limbs were sore and clumsy as she lead me into a deserted ally way. I had no idea where I was—some abandoned part of the city-- but, I was sure I could get back home from there.
I tried to make some kind of begging noise so she would have some kind of mercy on me.
“You’re to good to kill but, I will if I have to,” she said as we walked on the broken pavement towards a dark alley. The only light coming from a flickering holo-screen that was tuned out of the networks. She pulled the smaller gun out of the holster on her hip and pushed it to the side of my face.
“Knees,” she ordered.
My legs trembled as I kneeled in front of her, I wiped the tear from my face but she seemed not to care. If this was how she was going to kill me I doubted anyone would recognize my face when it was over. I closed my eyes and I felt the gun go off and a sudden heat go past my ear.
I opened my eyes to see my metallic syndicate fall to the ground. It was immediately followed by a rippling sensation that went through my body, I lost control of myself and fell backwards, soiling myself as the spasm ended. I was glad I had been on my knees.
She had shot off the internal wires, that could only be taking out with surgery. The ones that connected the external Syndicate to the internal implant.
“Fucking piece of shit,” she snarled at me,”Stand up,”
She walked me to the front of the car and let me sit in the back seat. I could see the back of a man’s head in the driver’s seat. She placed a needle into my skin and my tired body came to life and back down again and I was left in a paralytic state. I couldn’t move any of my limbs or make a sound but everything else around me had never felt so real. She placed a pair of shades over my eyes as we sped through a tunnel and entered a brighter area.
As the car continued to drive I began to see the sounds around me and hear the gray and black of my clothing. I saw something in front of me like the Syndicate was still on--things I could not make sense of. This had to be chrome--the drug that seemed to cause the collapse of a country.
I was in-between hallucination when, I saw it the lights up ahead.
We were at the border.
She was taking me out of the country
To the LOLA.
