Moon was rummaging through the container, looking for that last bottle of wine she had hidden. Did someone else find it? She grunted and pushed a box of noodles to the side. There was a bottle of rum there, possibly hidden by someone else. It would do. She grabbed a couple of apples on her way out and closed up. The doors were heavy, creaking steel. She shoved the latch in place and started for the hut she and Justin shared. They neighbored Allison and Marcus, which seemed to make Justin constantly uncomfortable, but did not bother anyone else. It was not like there was a lot of room to put distance between them anyway.

Their relationship accelerated under the pressure of boredom. With nothing else to do with their time, it would be impractical to take things slow. Moon was already comfortable prodding Justin into the garden, and he seemed to have no reservations against whining about it. Marcus and Allison had a quiet, private relationship. She honestly did not know how close they were besides occupying the same hut. The other residents built on the other side of the island and were still too mad to work with the Open Acres camp. Of course, the other side of the island was less than a 15 minute walk, but they managed to avoid interaction anyway. No one saw them in the container either. There would be signs that they had been there, supplies taken, seedlings and drying ceramics left, but never one of the Hackers in person.

The big container was there when they arrived; stocked full of what they would need to survive a year or so, and a small library that would help them develop horticulture. There was no digital technology. There were solar generators for lights, basic medical equipment, and refrigeration. There was possibly enough wiring and circuitry around to create some sort of transmitter, but everyone was certain they were under surveillance. Whom would they contact anyway? The Fahrs might want to retrieve their children, but they would not begin to know how. The hackers did not take anytime to round up members of their group to be exiled, why would they take a risk to rescue them?

Justin was the only one who spent more than a day talking about how to escape. Marcus seemed perfectly content with the lifestyle the island promised. Allison did not express anything about their situation. Moon kept herself busy, figuring that hard work would present more opportunities than desperate thinking.

“Hey Galileo, put that thing down and join me for a drink?” Moon was stepping in the doorway. The left corner of her lips rose but there were no wrinkles in her eyes.

“Ok, sure, but look at this,” he pointed to a star map, “that’s Aquarius. Doesn’t that look like the constellation we saw the other night?”

“Sure it does.” Moon tried to humor his attempts at astronomy. Justin was convinced that with some training, he could determine their location based on the position of the stars. She was not sure what he would do with that information, but he said he had to know. So far, all he could suss out was that they were in the Southern Hemisphere, in the Pacific Ocean. She tried no to point out that they did not need to check star charts to know that, simple inference would be enough.

“I’m going to track it and compare to these charts.”

“Just don’t stay up too late, I need your help in the garden.”

“I know, I know.”

“Do you want to go for a walk? I want to look at some of those rock formations again.”

“What is your interest in those things?”

“I don’t know, I just feel a kind of energy there.”

“Is it a woo-woo kind of energy? Ow!” She punched him in the arm and walked out with the rum. “Alright, let’s go look,” he said as he ran after her. He left the star maps on the floor. Outside, Moon stopped short and pointed to Allison and Marcus. They were talking with the three hackers.

“What’s going on?” Justin asked. Everyone’s body language was shifty, irate.

“They look upset, don’t they?” Moon said. She walked up to Marcus and Allison. Everyone was circled around something glowing. Did the hackers make something?

“Where did that screen come from?” Justin said from between Allison and Noah.

“Where do you think?” Noah said. Speaking was progress, but there was still an edge of hostility.

“We found it outside of our settlement with a little parachute attached to it.” Haley said. There was less grudge in her voice.

“Wait… is that?” Everyone nodded to Justin. The screen was playing scenes of Nesson. Houses on the beach, families climbing out of their car to enter Slathers. Richard Links waving in the sunshine. Some of the footage was directly from the first video Marcus saw of the development.

“Does it do anything else?” Moon asked.

“Nope. Well, if you try to access the circuitry it gives you a little shock.” Haley said. The two other hackers nodded. Their hair looked a little more frizzled than usual.

“What should we do with it?” Justin asked.

“Throw it in the ocean?” Marcus suggested.

“No!” Everyone else called in unison.

“So, what, are we going to watch people taunting you from their island homes?”

“Until we find something else to do with it, yes.” Moon said. Richard links was smiling on the screen. The image broke up for just a moment before returning to the beginning of the advertisement. Justin could swear he saw a flash of Links waving with four of his figures folded and one prominent digit held high.

“Ok, I’m done looking at it for now. Let’s keep it in the container.” Allison said. She took the device and walked away.

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Moon pushed aside a branch and maintained a smooth stride. Justin did his best to keep up. It was amazing how quickly she moved; he had been thinking of her as slow and thoughtful, but Moon propelled herself forward as if she were gliding. She dodged every bramble and pushed through the tall grass and tangling weeds without a pause. Was it growing up on the commune or sheer force of will that helped her navigate?

On the map, it looked simple. A straight line to their destination. There were even hints here and there that roads once followed their path. These unused and abandoned pathways sank beneath overgrowing invasive plants did little to pave their way. The light, when it peaked through the trees, grew long and Justin began to wonder if they really would make it today. Maybe if they could both travel at Moon’s pace.

Justin did not realize how much he had depended on following others until he had to struggle to keep up. What if he lost her? He had no idea where he was. He could pull up a map, sure, but what good would it do him when there was nothing here and he did not know their precise destination. He set off from home alone, but he did not get anywhere until he started following. Herman was at least good for a free ride. Simon let him tag along too. Following Allison was the reason he was here in the first place. Here was following again, this time away from his sister and to an uncertain goal.

“Moon.” He had to raise his voice to reach her ahead, making him sound more urgent than he was. She slowed a little and turned her head. “Are you sure we’re going the right way. We don’t seem to be going anywhere.”

She sighed. “I’ve been here before. Don’t worry. We’re almost there anyway.”

“Define almost.”

“That depends on whether you would stop dragging ass back there.”

“Hey! What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying if I didn’t have to slow down the whole time we might be there by now.”

“Slowing down? You mean…” Moon turned around and it was as if she had vanished. Justin had to jog to keep her in sight, though she seemed to be walking as casually as ever. Low hanging branches whipped his arms and scratched his cheeks. His lungs burned. Even through all the travels, he never had to run. He walked more than the rest of his life combined, but running was not something that interested Herman or Simon. They were happy to use cars and trains. Ok, maybe there were no passable road for cars here, but this running? It seemed a little gratuitous.

He gave up, or rather his body gave up, and he went back to the crawling walk he had used before. He would just have to keep up the straight line and hope he was going the right way. The land rolled in peaks and valleys. Moon called these hills, but his legs told him different. What qualified something as a mountain? Surely these “hills” had to be close. Every time he topped one he celebrated a little and let the relief wash over him. Every valley was a taunt from nature. He was nearing one of those taunts, a particularly cruel one with a creek bed at the bottom. There was just enough water to make the rocks slick. It should have been two long steps to get across, but he found himself baby stepping for fear of falling.

“Justin! What are you doing?” Her voice was behind him. How could that be? He turned and did not see her. “Over here! Where were you going, can’t you even walk a straight line?” He turned until he saw her, traversing the top of the hill he had just left. He took three quick steps back the way he came, flailing to keep his balance when his right foot slid on some moss. He walked just off parallel to the hillside, which turned out to be much easier than the straight up and down. At the top, he could see Moon’s amused expression.

“You’re worthless, you know that?” She said. Before he could protest, she pulled him close and pressed her lips to his. His indignation turned to confusion, which melted into a thoughtless sea of physical sensations. She grabbed his hand, turned around and pointed across the hill. There was a latticed, steel structure jutting over the top of a mound. “That’s their wireless tower.”

“What, they don’t use ubiquitous satellite?” Justin had never known a time without the net of radio waves broadcasted from and received by millions of satellites in synchronous orbit around the earth.

“Well, of course they could, but… Have you never met a hacker before?”

“I saw a couple in Siege, wouldn’t say I interacted with them. Their characters were pretty ridiculous, like something drawn by a 5^th grader.”

“That’s probably because it was hand rendered.”

“Uhg, what a pain in the ass. Why would anyone want to hand render anything?”

“They do pretty much everything the most pain in the ass way possible. You’ll see.”

“Great. I hate to say this, but… lead the way!”

***

“He’s gone! That girl took him somewhere.” Allison was shaking Marcus, who looked at her through a haze of drowsiness. “I talked to those kids who they have been meeting with. They sent him away on some sort of, I don’t know, mission or something.” Marcus rolled over reaching for his glass of water. He took a sip and looked at her with an expectant expression. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just waiting for you to tell me what you want us to do about it.”

“What is wrong with you? We have to go get him. He can’t mess around in these situations, he’ll get picked up so fast. And who knows what will happen.”

“Ok. Where did he go?”

“Another commune, Hexadecimal Hll.”

“What was that? I’m not awake yet, I must have miss heard you.”

“It’s a hacker collective.”

“Oh shit, those guys. They’re so…”

“Annoying, I know, but that’s not the point. I couldn’t get much out of those kids, except where Justin and Moon were going. I only got that because that Astrid girl slipped.”

“Probably didn’t slip. She has it out against Justin for some reason. Probably wants you to go drag him out of there.”

“Either way, we need to go get him before Links does.” Marcus rolled out of bed. As he dressed, Allison shoved a cup of coffee in his face. She sipped her own cup as she filled a backpack.

“What’s that for?”

“Supplies.”

“For what? How far is this place?”

“It’s a day’s walk, but we don’t know how long we’ll be gone.” Marcus grunted and dug around a drawer for a few minutes before throwing a tight roll into the pack. “What’s this?”

“Hard cash, all I have left.” Allison made a sad smile and zipped the bag closed.

“Alight let’s go!” She said and walked out the door.

“Wait you forgot the back pack!” Marcus called. “Oh, you didn’t forget it,” he said to himself and picked it up. He nearly dislocated his shoulder; he had not braced for the weight of the thing. What did she think they were getting into?

They stopped a couple of people to ask directions. There was some confusion about why they would want to go to Hexadecimal Hill. The residents came by Open Acres from time to time to repair equipment and pedal their strange electronic inventions. Everyone tolerated the hackers for practical reasons, but no one particularly enjoyed their company. Hackers seemed incapable of speaking without condescension. Everything a non-hacker did with technology was simply bewildering and childish. The Open Acres denizens actively avoided conversation with hackers when they were on the commune. Fortunately, the average hacker was socially obtuse and never noticed the shunning.

There were two ways to get to Hexadecimal Hill. Driving would take two or three days of winding through old, forgotten roads. Walking would only take a day, but it was a formidable hike. Allison and Marcus agreed that walking was preferable for speed and staying under the radar. Justin was probably already raising eyebrows at Links Corp, they did not need to be conspicuous by putting an unexpected car on the road. Marcus tried a few times to convince Allison to leave some of the supplies behind; his shoulders were already aching. She did not acknowledge the requests and just walked ahead, towards a dirt path leading into the woods.

***

To whom it may concern on Hexadecimal Acres:

     I have tolerated your persistent subversive activities on my network. Your use of unauthorized devices, manipulation of security protocols, and viewing of private information is the least of your offences. You are allowed to access to the holonet because, frankly, it is not worth my time to block you. You may think your use of alternative infrastructure makes you untraceable and unblockable, but consider that a few well-placed firecrackers is all it would take to send you back to the 20^th century you hold so dear.

     That said, I am writing you directly regarding a matter of some interest to me. As I am sure you are aware, a faction on your compound has teamed with a neighboring group of eco-terrorists. Based on the communications I have intercepted, it seems that not everyone loves the Nesson development. That’s fine, continue living in the backwoods of history, I don’t care. However, I take direct threats to the private property of my citizens quite seriously.

     Seeing as you are in a foreign nation, I cannot take legal action, but do not doubt that there will be action. As a small token of my sincerity, all of your monitors will display this message and your workstations will be inactive until all visitors from Open Acres and all conspirators from your own group are brought to the following coordinates: 36.218904, -121.764549. You will find a dock and ship. Load all the conspirators on the ship; once it has sailed over the horizon, you are free to return to your 32-bit existence.

Best Regards,

Richard Links

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The door opened on seven people moving as if to conceal something. When they saw Moon standing silent and calm, they relaxed. She stepped in and Justin followed. “What is he doing here?” a hoarse, but feminine voice accused.

“It’s fine, he’s on our side.” What side is that? Justin wondered.

“We know that, but he’ll draw too much attention.” A man about his sister’s age said.

“Hey guys, I’m standing right here you know.” He had never seen sixteen eyes roll in unison before, it certainly did not instill self-confidence. Moon had lead him to this room, holding his hand tightly as they walked. He expected to be lead to a private room somewhere. That assumption was not wrong exactly, but this is not what he was expecting for the rest of his evening. This group was visually indistinguishable from the typical Open Acres resident: long hair, tattered clothing, and a pallet of facial expressions that mostly consisted of consternation or disconnection. For some reason, though, they were meeting in secret and Moon thought he might fit in.

“Look, we can’t take any risks. Everyone voted to call off acts against the Landbridge until the situation with Mike, Pat, and Al blows over. The last thing we need is Helen’s brother tagging along.”

“Thomas, would I bring him here if it wasn’t ok?” He had never seen Moon so confident. Was her sullen demenor an act?

“I don’t think you would intestinally put us at risk, no. But I can’t imagine any reason he’s here except that you have a little crush.”

“Yeah,” it was the girl who called out when they walked in, “on the whole family I’d say.”

“Sure, Astrid, as if all of us were not building alters to Allison.”

Justin laughed and they all turned to him, staring death. “My sister? What’s there to worship about Allison?”

“She got away,” two or three people said at the same time.

“She stayed when everyone else ran,” Moon explained. “She evaded capture and has enough information to bring Links down.”

“I think you may be exaggerating a little bit here.”

“Exaggerating? You don’t give your sister credit for her bravery and commitment?”

“Sure, but I think you’re underestimating Links. She didn’t evade capture, Links knew she was there the whole time. It was just more convenient at the time to let her think she was hiding out.”

There was an awkward beat before Thomas spoke slowly and deliberately, “If that’s the case, then you have to leave now.”

“What? I haven’t done anything.”

“Justin, maybe it is better that you sit this one out. We’ll talk later.” Moon opened the door, revealing a quiet, dark footpath that would take him back to the barracks. Why did she bring him here just to kick him out ten minutes later? He opened his mouth, but decided not to speak. He stepped out and the door closed gently, but surely behind him.

***

At breakfast, Moon sat down across from Justin, sitting tall and looking directly in his eyes. “I calmed them down after you left.”

“Calmed them? From what?”

“They’re just a little paranoid about new people, especially potentially high profile people.”

“Still not following, what does high profile have to do with me?”

“Well, your sister obviously. But also, she wouldn’t have brought you and… what’s his name?”

“Mark.”

“Right. She would not have brought you and Mark here if there weren’t some trouble you were in. We already know what she’s hiding from.”

“Ok, so I can’t join your club then?”

“You shouldn’t take this so lightly. We want the same things.”

“Is that so?”

“Sure, we want to get out of here and do something about Links and his Landbridge.”

“Is that what I want to do?”

Moon shifted, uncertainty flashed before she adopted a bored look. “I don’t want to play games about this right now. If you want in, you have to come back tonight.”

“I thought I wanted out… OW!” His shin throbbed where she had landed a quick kick. Moon smiled, and Justin smiled despite feeling he should be angry.  “Ok, were do we meet?”

***

“What do you think he’s been doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I see him walking around the compound, but he hasn’t spoken to me in two days.”

“Who’s that?”

“You idiot.”

“So we’re talking about…”

“My brother! You’re an ass.” She smiled and took his arm. They were walking on a shaded path, occasionally weaving around trees. There were trails here that seemed to go on forever and go nowhere.

“Probably just spending time with that broody girl that’s always staring at you.”

“What? At me?” Allison dropped Marcus’s arm and pressed her palm against her chest.

“You haven’t noticed?”

“No… but I’ve gotten used to stares and whispers at this point. I can’t tell if everyone hates me or loves me.”

“Both. They admire you for staying on the island and getting information, but the others had been on the commune for years. You’re a reminder that no one knows what is happening to their friends.”

“Links is a power mad asshole, but I don’t think he’s torturing the guys.”

“You don’t think? So it’s possible.”

“You’re being weird. Why are you being so weird?”

“Sorry, I listen to a lot of idle conversation in the kitchen.”

“Wait, people are talking about me?”

“About all three of us, but especially you.” They walked up a moderate hill and looked back at Open Acres. It was modest, that was certain, but quite ambitious. Here were hundreds of people forsaking the modern world and building a community. Looking the other direction there was nothing. There was a speck in the distance could have been someone’s home, or it could just be an odd shaped rock, it was too far to tell.

“Anyway, what do you think he is up to?”

“I don’t know, he’s your brother. Which way should we go from here?” Allison pointed. “But there’s where we just came from.”

“Yeah, I have to get back and see what Justin and that girl think they’re doing.”

“Does it matter?” She gave him a blank glance and walked around him to get on the trail back to the village. “OK, fine. But you still owe me a hike and picnic.”

Back at the compound, Allison started asking around. Everyone knew he was with Moon, but no one could tell her where they went. Marcus said he would see her at dinner and left her to hunt by herself. No sooner had he walked away than Old Nan cornered her. Allison looked left and right for a reason to excuse herself.

“What are you looking for, sugar?” Nan said in an affected accent. At least, everyone was pretty sure it was affected. Nan was a washed up hipster older than Allison’s grandparents and mentally the age of her brother. No one knew how long she had been on the compound. As far as anyone could tell she had always been around to mooch intoxicants and spin tangled yarns.

“Oh, it’s just my brother. You haven’t seen him have you.”

“Ooo, I’d like to find him too, if you know what I mean.”

“Ew. I mean. Wait, what do you mean?” Nan just laughed. Allison was about to let her have it when she saw Justin out of the corner of her eye. He had disappeared behind a door before she could turn her head. “There! What is that building?”

“That? Oh, that’s storage.”

“I see, but why would…”

“Storage and where those kids think they’re meeting in secret.”

“What kids?”

“Some secret. Everyone knows, but they won’t let me hang out with them anyway.”

“What are they doing in there?”

“Pfft. Who cares? It’s not like anything will come of it. Just a few kids against a whole corporation.”

“But… I thought the commune voted… Oh no.”

“Wait, where are you going? I was going to tell you about the council. Do you know what they are up to now? Under all of our noses? Think they own…” Nan’s voice trailed off as Allison jogged to the shack Justin and, presumably, Moon just entered. What was she going to do with that kid? He came halfway around the world to bring her home just so he could get into the same mess she did.

***

“Excuse me.”

“Alright, alright, five minutes and I’ll have more clean plates.”

“Oh, no. It’s not that. You came here with Allison and her brother right?” Marcus turned around. A young girl was looking at him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She was wearing a spotless bandana over her hair, which was finely brushed. People did not bring up his relationship with Allison, though it seemed as if they had opinions about it.

“Who’s to say they didn’t come here with me?” The girl did not say anything, just rubbed her hands together. He could see her nail polish and that it was in perfect shape. “Ok, yes. And?”

“Your name’s… Mark, is that it?” he nodded, “I’m Astrid. Look, Justin has been hanging around with Moon a lot and…”

“What is everyone’s deal with this? I think it’s great, if anyone needs a few dates it’s those two.”

“No, no. I don’t care about that. It’s just that he’s always around her now and I don’t know if he’s, well, trust worthy.”

“Honestly, I don’t know him all that well. I do know his sister, and I think you know I admire her quite a bit. I also know he blindly traveled into the unknown to find her when she disappeared.”

“So, you’re saying…”

“I’m saying nothing really. Why do you care?” Astrid was about to speak when she saw something behind Marcus.

“Doesn’t matter, I have to go.”

“Who’s that walking away so fast? And I thought I was a little young for you.”

“Hah, hah. Just some girl. You two actually have something in common; she was nosing around Justin and Moon’s relationship. I don’t know what that kid does to these hippie girls.”

“Oh! Where’d she go? I’ve got to talk to her.”

“I don’t know, she just ran off as soon as you showed up.”

“Something is going on. I’m sure that they’re going to get Justin in trouble. Which is also trouble for us.”

“What’s going on?” Marcus turned back to the pile of dishes, cocking his head to show he was listening. Allison explained about Old Nan and the shack where Moon had been taking Justin.

“What does he have to say about it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t pin him down to even say hello. I saw him go in that shack, but he was gone before I got in there.” Marcus started laughing. “What, what’s funny about this?”

“I just started thinking about how weird that is, to not be able to talk to someone. Even on Nesson I couldn’t avoid someone if I tried. I certainly tried, that’s why I was there in the first place.”

“Did you ever try to avoid me?”

“Weeelll…”

“You asshole.”

“No, no, I’m just kidding.” She was already gone. Marcus was holding a dish he just realized he had already cleaned two or three times. She wasn’t really mad was she?

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“Justin… Justin! Where are you going? Dinner is in the big house.” Moon had been following him around the moment he stepped foot in the place. The first time he saw her he did not know if he was afraid or intrigued. Her figure was imperial and round. Under dusty black hair was an observant and unkempt face. Her gold eyes were piercing. Moon appeared ageless, but after inquiring around, he learned that she was born a couple years before himself. Her features suggested a boldness, but she was soft spoken and usually found in corners and shadows. “Are… Aren’t you hungry?” She looked like she might collapse in tears at any moment, but that was just her neutral expression.

“Sure.” He turned around. It wasn’t awful here, but he could not shake the urge to sprint for the gates. Moon wrapped her long fingers around his hand; Justin did not start walking until his elbow locked and he had to follow her lead.

“Have I told you,” she paused. “Have I told you how much everyone loves your sister here? And. That I’m so glad you came with her.” Their pace was slowing. He could see the big house, but if the deceleration continued, dinner would be over before they sat down. Her cold hands tightened and she turned to him.

“Yeah. I guess you did.” He shifted his gaze, avoiding her sad eyes. She looked at his cheek for several breaths and dropped his hand. They walked to the house side by side. They entered and found a place at a deserted table. Moon sat down at the table and Justin followed. The buffet was at the far end of the hall, maybe thirty paces away. He could tell it was half ravaged already. As usual, there was a mountain of cabbage still available.

“Hey. aren’t you guys hungry?” Moon jumped at the sight of Allison. She mumbled something about her chores and shuffled away blushing. Justin’s sister sat a plate of kohlrabi salad in front of him. “What is going on with her? Wait, are you two…”

“No!”

Allison laughed, “Alright. Where have you been all day anyway?”

“Nowhere, just like everyone else here.”

“Come on, don’t start into that again. You have a chance to make an interesting life here. With Moon. Ok ok, so this isn’t Neopolis, but it’s not back in the sprawl with Mom and Dad either.”

“I don’t know, a holovision and a private room sounds pretty good right now.”

“Be my guest, just don’t expect me to follow you.”

“Nah, that’s not really it anyway. It’s just this hiding away while Links manipulates the rest of the world.”

“Sure, but you can’t do anything about it if he catches you messing around in Neopolis.”

“Yeah, not if he catches me.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

***

Marcus was feeling around the bottom of the sink for a stray knife. Why did those kids have to throw everything in the sink at once?

“Hey Mark!” he jumped, dropping the errant flatware he just grasped.

“Hey Helen.” She frowned, he had kept the habit of calling her by her alias. It’s not that she was attached to Allison per se, but she did not like the associations with what she now considered a fugitive name.

“I grabbed a couple extra brownies off the dessert tray. Care to join me?”

“Which dessert tray?”

“The one they put out after the kids have gone to bed.”

“Then yes, just let me… shit!” Marcus put his pricked finger in his mouth, threw down his sponge and followed Allison out of the kitchen. It really wasn’t a bad deal, this place. The work was a little more labor intensive than he was used to, but the hours were shorter. A few years ago he would never have associated with the kind of people who call Open Acres home, but after playing shopkeeper for the wealthy he did not mind them so much. He just had to excuse himself when the social warrior talk started.

They walked down the packed dirt path and found a copse in the middle of the barley field. A sharp line divided the resting field and the growing field. The trees formed a natural barrier between the two. Next year, apparently, they would switch fields, leaving the nothing but chaff after the harvest and start plowing the new field. It was a cycle, the earth would tolerate the intense cultivation only because it knew its leisure laid ahead. Marcus took the brownie out of Allison’s hand and then took her hand.

“I don’t think Justin is long for this place.” Allison said, looking up to the stars peaking behind the clouds.

“Sure, I get it. I’m getting used to it, but it’s not for everyone.”

“Yeah, but he has to get used to it.”

“And that’s the main reason he never will.”

“He can’t take it on all on by himself. Besides, I’m not even sure what he wants to struggle against at this point.”

“He’s sixteen, anyone telling him he has to do something is enough reason for him to fight.”

“Yeah, but I…”

“Ran off and joined a bunch of anarchists last year?”

“I don’t know how that’s relevant. Ok, fine, I don’t want to let one man, or organization take control of the world and I certainly don’t want the sprawl to take over the oceans, but he’s trying to martyr himself.”

“So you’re saying you don’t want to join him?”

“No, I’m saying it’s not going to do any good.”

“Eh, what good does anything do?”

“That’s just the brownies talking.”

“Nah, that’s all me. I’m not interested in saving the world, but I’ll follow you to whatever world you’re trying to create. Anyway, this one’s not awful. I wouldn’t mind a minute of privacy though.”

“Ok, see you later.”

“No, no! that’s not what I…” She had stood as if to leave, but tackled him with a manic laugh. While they rolled and laughed, they missed the shadow of Justin following the path to the public road.

***

The map shone in the ditch; Justin was squatting and concentrating. It was so easy to find before, but there was no sign now. There was no way to predict how far he was. He thought back to that map in the train stations. Neopolis was scattered all over North America like a shotgun blast. There was usually one within a few hundred miles of an old urban core, but he couldn’t count on it. He wasn’t near anything like a city now anyway. The commune was intentionally set in a dead zone of settlement. It was probably some rich guy’s private property, but no one had any reason to be out here unless they wanted to plow fields and debate the finer points of ecology.

He thought about Simon, who moved so easily between worlds. He would know how to get to the nearest Neopolis. What was he doing now? Was he on Nesson leading a revolution? There was nothing in the news about it, but Justin was not so sure that everything important was on the net anymore. Justin did a quick ping to see if he could find him, but he was probably on the New St. Louis intranet. He may as well not exist as far as the mainland was concerned. He thought about leaving a message, but decided less recorded communication was better.

The adjacent, abandoned road was forgotten. The communists used it if they had to go out for supplies, but that was rare. Hopes of thumbing a ride were non-existent, and there was a high probability that this road would simply disappear under overgrowth if he tried to walk far along it. No, he would have to know where he was going before he just set off. He was sure the luck he had when he set off from home would not follow him here.

The bushes bent and creaked in the wind and the crickets called. He listened and watched his screen. He zoomed out again and followed the route from Indiana to the southwest desert he had followed before. His location blinked in central California, hundreds of miles of mountains and blank land separated him from familiar territory. Behind him, lights from Open Acres wrapped around the trees. All these people got here from somewhere, so clearly there was a way out. Justin, Allison, and Marcus arrived with the help of a shuttle the commune maintained in LA. Anyone interested in starting a new life need only contact the commune registrar, spout a few words about existential crisis, and find a way to LA. From there an auto drive car, the only one on Open Acres, would carry the new brothers and sisters to their new home free of charge. Justin slept the whole way there; now he wished he had stayed awake and studied the landscape.

A crunch of rocks and dead leaves signaled that someone was coming down the path behind him. People did not just wander off the grounds; someone was probably looking for him. He sighed and stood, expecting to see his sister in the distance. Upon turning around, he almost fell back when Moon’s face was inches from his own. She wrapped him in her arms.

“Don’t.” She said. Don’t go, she meant. Generally he tried to find excuses to part when he was around her, but tonight he felt her warmth and fluttering heartbeat. He did not know what impression he had made on her. Justin suspected Moon was half in love with his sister, but decided he was more attainable. Maybe the pool of young men was simply so shallow that any new comer was exciting. He was usually so caught up in trying to understand her fascination with him that he failed to assess how he might feel about her.

“Ok, sure.” He said. I won’t, tonight, he meant. She let out a puff with a tone somewhere between relief and disappointment. She kissed him once, lightly, and released him. She took his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. Justin saw the blinking light that represented their location. On a map, they were nowhere, yet a thousand souls lived their whole lives in this spot. He picked up the mobile and snapped it closed.

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It never occurred to Justin that the experiences of his that had value were the ones before he left home. For the New St. Louisians, his lifestyle was morbidly interesting. Beyond that, it was motivating. Everyone knew generally what American culture was like and how people lived, but how had everything become so stratified and isolated? It was not the facts that were shocking but the extremity. An outsider’s perspective of his old life revealed a disconnection that made no sense in a world so electronically connected. That the citizens of New St. Louis were looking at the situation from the other extreme was not a part of the conversation.

The cafe reminded him of the central courtyard in Neopolis. Sure, he never got to see it, but this place was close enough to his idea of the courtyard. All around people were huddled in small groups. More screens were on than he had expected. Every once in a while he caught a glimpse of his own face on a monitor. No one in the cafe approached him, they were all too busy looking at the screen to notice the speaker was sitting a few feet away. Justin did not turn on his mobile. He just looked around.

“So what do you think?” Simon asked. He did not look at Justin while spoke, he was scrolling through a message board.

“About going to Nesson? I don’t know, I can see why you would want to, but it could get out of hand.”

“Bah! Anyway, that’s not what I meant. I meant about you going back to the US.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just told you…” Justin had been hypnotized by his surroundings, Simon must have been talking this whole time and he did not hear a word.

“Sorry, you want me to go to the US and do what?”

“Are you listening this time?”

“Sure.” Simon squinted. “Yes, yes I’m listening.”

“How would you like to spend some more time in Neopolis?”

***

Jackson was not feeling so lucky the last couple of days. Ok, so large political discussions were going on and the future of the city was on the table. Couldn’t people still get in a round or two of blackjack in between debates? The place was empty, save for one teller and himself. He was going to have to send her home and run the place himself if nothing happened soon.

“Rachel, honey, I think…” Jackson’s words were cut short by the hollow banging of steps. He turned to the door. “Mark?”

“Hey Jack! Thanks for the tip on that job by the way.”

“But, why aren’t you there?”

“Well, you know, it wasn’t my scene.”

Jackson saw the slightest flush on Marcus’s cheeks. “This is about a girl isn’t it!”

“What? That was random, even for you Jack.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t run off with a girl?”

“Well, no, that’s not what I said.”

“Maaark! Congratulations, come on, let’s have a drink!”

“Sure, but it’s not like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course it isn’t. Let’s have that drink anyway.” Jackson led Marcus to his usual table and poured two bourbons, neat. Mark took his glass, not keen on the drink but not wanting to make demands right now. They clinked glasses and as they put the rims to their lips, the door opened.

“Excuse me Mark, businesses to attend to.” Jackson bounced onto the floor but his shoulders slumped when he saw who it was. “Oh, hey Justin. I really don’t think I can use you today.”

“I know Jack, I just came by to say goodbye.” Jackson did not look surprised. He grabbed the young man’s shoulder and brought him to the table.

“You’re a little young for what we’re drinking son; let me see if I can dig up a beer, I’ll be right back. Mark this is Justin. Justin, Mark.” Jackson walked away, heading for the swinging double doors that lead behind the bar.

“Nice to meet you,” Justin said, sticking out his hand.

“Yeah…” Marcus said. There was something familiar about this kid. Had he met him before? No, he was sure he had not, but Marcus felt like he knew Justin somehow. “You from New St. Louis?”

“Me? No. I guess you haven’t been…”

“Oh! You’re that kid from the speech. What are you doing in a place like this?”

“Jack gave me a job when I was in a tight spot, I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“Leave?”

“Yeah, back to the mainland.”

“Uhg, better you than me.” Justin nodded his head. Jackson came back with a dented, silver can and handed it to Justin. When Justin popped the tab, a smell like old bread hissed out. The two men offered their glasses in cheers, the can made a metal click.

“Justin! What the hell do you think you’re doing!”

Three heads turned to the door. Allison was stamping towards them, Marcus and Jackson instinctively put their glasses behind their backs.

“Allison?” Marcus and Justin said. She grabbed the can out of Justin’s hand and slammed it on the table.

“It’s, uh, well…” Justin was fumbling to explain the beer.

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh!” He had momentarily forgotten why he was here. “I was looking for you!”

She let go and explained her last conversation with their parents. “Dad told me mom won’t even get off the couch, you could have at least called them.”

“What about you?”

“Hey, I called.”

“Yeah, twice in three months.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Allison,” Marcus stepped in. He understood now why she had wandered out of the restaurant, but he did not understand what she was doing here. “How did you find us here?”

“Mark, I didn’t expect to find you here. I especially didn’t expect you to be getting my little brother drunk.” She walked over to him. Marcus looked sheepish, a little scared. He was sure she was about to hit him, but instead she pulled him close and rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank you for finding him.”

Marcus thought about correcting her, telling her that Justin had only been there for a few minutes, but the feeling of her breath on his neck kept him quiet.

Justin coughed, “So, how did you find me here?”

“Your friends Simon told me what was going on.” Simon and Justin were famous enough now that everyone was interested in where they were. Simon used this to his advantage and drew attention to himself, and his agenda, whenever possible. Justin disappeared shortly after the speech, but finding Simon was as easy as listening to a few conversations and hopping a few train.

“Holy shit!” The door front door was swinging closed. Every eye in the casino looked at the tall, slim figure in the doorway with immediate recognition. There was no way to mistake that hat and those boots. Jackson smiled broadly at one of his favorite customers, Justin waved. Allison caught his hand and pulled him back a step, Marcus stood tall with his hands clinched.

“Earl! So good to see you. You’re in for a treat today. Yours truly is running all the tables today.” Jackson said. He was approaching Earl and preparing to guide him to the blackjack table.

“Hey Jack, that sounds great, but it looks like I already hit the jackpot. Mark, Allison, a mutual friend is looking for you. And Justin, what are you… Ah, now I see it. I thought I knew you from somewhere, Allison is your sister?”

No one responded. Jackson looked back at the three, Allison’s eyes were darting around for another exit. Earl continued, “Links only asked about Mark and Allison. You know, if you had just stayed in Nesson City, Hey!” Justin grabbed Allison’s hand and was running towards the kitchen, she tugged on Marcus’s shirt and he turned to go with them. Before they took more than five steps, they heard screaming. It was Rachel, who was now hiding under her counter. They turned and froze.

“I bet none of you have seen one of these in person before,” Earl said, “but you know what it is. Now, next time one of you starts running off before I’m done talking…” He used his other hand to mime a gunshot.

“Wow, Earl. You’re really playing on this cowboy image. Where’d you get that thing?” Marcus said, shaking but not able to resist a jab.

“Say what you will about Links, he can provide when needed.”

“So, what? You’re taking us back to Nesson City?” Marcus asked.

“Not quite, Links wants to talk to you himself.”

“Really? He wants to talk to us? What do we have to talk about?” Allison said.

“Listen, I didn’t get into the details. I’m sure you’ll find something to discuss. I do know he’s paying well to see the two of you, and surely a New St. Louis celebrity like Justin here is worth something to him.”

“Earl!” Jackson called. He had slipped into the shadows around his table unnoticed. He stepped back into view holding a shotgun. “You know how I feel about weapons in my establishment. Rachel!” Rachel stood from behind her counter. She was shaking all over, but her handgun was steady and pointing at Earl.

“Whoa guys. I didn’t think guns were allowed on this island.”

“Earl, this is a more or less underground casino frequented primarily by outsiders. Frankly I’m surprised you haven’t seen this ol’ girl before.”

“That’s no way to talk about Rachel.”

“No no, you know what I mean. Now put it on the floor and kick it over.”

“Sure, Jack.” Earl slid the gun to Jackson, who picked it up and started to hand it off to one of the three next to him and then decided to place it on an adjacent table instead.

“Now, are you playing blackjack or craps?”

***

“You know, I can’t shake the feeling that Earl wasn’t such a bad guy.” Marcus said.

“I know what you mean, he probably didn’t mean any of that stuff.” Allison agreed.

“He was pointing a gun at us!” Justin said.

“Yeah, but he is still kind of my friend you know. At least, as close to a friend as I have these days.”

“And,” Allison added, “None of us would be here without him.”

“Where are we exactly?” Justin asked.

“Somewhere in the pacific.”

“Thanks…”

They had been in the boat for 36 hours and had seen nothing but water. Everyone agreed it was best to stay clear of land until they reached the US. The course was set for northern California, far from the border with Nesson. After Jackson diffused the situation with Earl, Justin took his sister and Marcus to the harbor and explained where he was headed. Allison was not letting Justin out of her sight and Marcus had nowhere to go, so they all headed for the mainland. More specifically, they were on a course for Neopolis. There were a couple of locations on the coast where they could enter the city-network. From there they needed to track down Herman and his group. Justin needed access to leadership in Neopolis and that was the only place he could think to start.

Simon did not give specific instructions, more of a general mission to enlist the Neopolitans in waking up the rest of the country. Links Corp had gradually subdued a whole population and now Links himself was ready to quietly take control. The Neopolitans needed to assist their regular American neighbors. Besides the fundamental problems with allowing a sociopath to take control of a large group, once Links had control over most of the population it would not be long before he set his sights on Neopolis. Here was a settlement, or system of settlements, eschewing all of his technology and consuming none of his products. How long could that be allowed to continue?

Allison would keep up with her brother, but she should probably get in touch with Josh. She had not kept up with The Project while she was undercover, but surely they were following the Nesson situation. Her story was big enough to put her name on the front page of the site and to make The Project a household name. At least it should be big enough, probably few people outside of the ecology circuit would care. Still, if anyone read it she would be happy.

Allison looked to Marcus, she did not understand what he was doing here. He was a paid employee of Links Corp was he not? The thought that a man was following her was flattering, but she did not think this was all about her. The man was a strange isolationist. He had no patience for others, yet he choose to put himself in situations where he would have to constantly interact with people. The man liked to be alone, but could not live the regular solitary life most Americans lived. Granted, the solitary indoor life available in the sprawl was continuously bombarded by social pressure. Holoparties, social networks, friends and family dropping into your holoroom and expecting you to come see them. As a shopkeeper he could be physically near people, but socially distant.

“Hey!” Justin said. He had been lost in his mobile for sometime, trying to plan their next move after landing. The sudden burst made Allison and Marcus jump.

“Yes?” Allison said.

“We should call mom and dad. They don’t know I found you.”

“You think that’s safe?” Marcus asked.

“Why not, we’re in the middle of the ocean. It’s fine.” Justin said.

“Links has much faster boats and could trace the call in seconds if he was watching out for it.”

“Besides, don’t we have more important things to do right now?”

“That’s the whole reason I’m here. There’s got to be a way to let them know we found each other and are ok.”

“Let’s just wait until we’re on land and can get a secure connections.” Allison said. Images of her parents in distress pressed against the sides of her skull, but she had to be practical. If they were worried now, their children being arrested by the Links Defense Force would kill them.

“Fine, but it’s going to be expensive to do in Neopolis.”

“I think we’ll manage.” Marcus said. He had a pocket full of hard money, enough to get them around in comfort for a few weeks. Jackson was quite generous as the three left the casino, but he did make sure to emphasize that it was a loan. ‘Don’t even think about skipping out on me,’ he had said. ‘You won’t have to worry about Links finding you if I get to you first.’ It was hard to tell how much Jackson was joking, but Marcus knew he would have to make some money and get back to New St. Louis before long. He pulled out his mobile to do a few quick calculations, but it was blank. He could not get it to turn on or do anything.

Allison and Justin were already shaking and verbally abusing their devices. What was going on? Marcus ran to check the navigation equipment on the boat. That all seemed ok, but the video wall in the cabin was projecting a white screen.

***

James and Jennifer Fahr heard the chiming of a holocall. They were just sitting down to plain cheese sandwiches and soup. The both stood so recklessly that their whole lunch nearly flipped onto the floor. When they got to the room, there was no theme. Everything was black. In the center of the room was a large head, something like the wizard of oz. He did not look directly at them, this was clearly a mass message, but how did he get into their house? What was Richard Links doing floating in their holoroom?

Links turned towards them, looking through rather than at them. His eyes were blank but his mouth smiled before he opened it.

***

“Well, that sounded reasonable at least. What?” Allison’s eyes were murderous. Marcus made a few uncomfortable noises but neither retracted or amended the statement.

“Sure, well he wouldn’t be one of the most powerful men in the world if he sounded crazy.” Justin said. The red was draining from Allison’s face. The white of the screen’s neutral state illuminated her cheeks. Her jaw loosened and she would have said something forgiving to Marcus if the wall had not morphed and brought the smug likeness of Links back to the cabin.

“Hello all.” The wall said.

“Great, what does he have to say this time?” Allison puffed.

“This really won’t take long Helen, or do you have something better to do?” Links was tracking her. Everyone squared up at the realization that this was a private call, not a broadcast.

“Great, I have your attention. Now, believe me, I understand your passion and your distrust of the Nesson project. I don’t think our goals are as different as you may think.”

“Is that so? Do we look like megalomaniacs to you?” Allison said.

“Not at all, and that’s my point. I think you have really misunderstood the situation. Your efforts have been quite effective and your politics are undoubtedly endearing.”

“Misunderstood? I think the fragmentation and diminishing autonomy speak for themselves.” Justin said.

“Alright, let’s just hold the vitriol for a minute. It’s interesting you associate those two things. Let’s think about that for a minute: if our social structures are fragmented, how could autonomy possibly diminish?”

“When you finish filling the power vacuum and reduce life to the consumption of Links Corp products.” Allison interjected.

“That was a rhetorical question. You’re not wrong that I am seeking to create fragmentation. Also, I do enjoy the benefits of running a successful business. However, I think you are a little confused about how autonomy is lost. First, everyone involved in this conversation is unquestionably autonomous. That is because we made a decision to live our lives with choice and purpose. That choice is always available, but some social structures punish autonomy more than others. You know who punishes autonomy? Autocrats.” Links looked at the others. He was glowing with satisfaction. He received blank stares. “Look, it’s simple. Fragmentation inherently provides more opportunity for free action. If you don’t like the mores of the group you find yourself in, you can simply find another group. Think about bands of hunter gathers thousands of years ago; they were probably the freest people who ever lived. Until now at least. I am creating a world where changing your tribe is as easy as changing the channel in your holoroom. We’ve already achieved freedom from work and the most detrimental aspects of class. The last step is freedom from old nationalism, and we are going to get there in our lifetime.” Links paused for comment, but saw only wide eyes and tense lips. All three were standing with closed arms and straight legs. “Anyway, think about it. Consider the true implications of your actions. You’re all young, I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I’m doing. I also have the resources to employ analysts who can vet my plan. Do what you need to get on with your lives. Just cool it with the revolution. I’ll be interested to see what you all do when you get back to the mainland, if you know what I mean”

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Nesson is an ad free serial fiction project. If you like what you have read, please leave a comment and share! If you’re feeling extra generous, donate to help me keep the story going and build this site!

Marcus sat in the boarding house, not exactly abandoned, but feeling excluded. He figured Helen, wait not Helen, Allison. He figured Allison had passed through New St. Louis before. She had to have to meet up with Earl and stowaway the way she did. He did not expect her to have personal business here though. He especially did not expect private business that she would not talk about.

She almost ran out of the door without saying a word. This was becoming a kind of habit, skipping out. She was pushing through the doors before Marcus could process her departure. He ran out and caught up with her walking briskly towards the center of the city.

“Hel… Allison. What are you doing?” She hesitated for a step, but kept walking. “Where are you going?”

“I. I have to go.”

“What? But we already left Nesson. What are you running from?”

“I’m not running from anything at the moment. I can’t explain right now.”

“OK, fine. Don’t explain. I’ll see when we get there.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, you are not coming.”

“Then, what?” Allison stopped, though her left heel still hovered off the ground. “Are we, I mean, is this…”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Go back to the restaurant. Ask about lodging, I’ll come find you.”

Marcus had never waited on someone before. Not in this sense. Sure, he waited for deliveries. He waited on appointments sometimes. This was different. He found himself lying in bed afraid to leave the room. This was probably unnecessary. It would be healthier to leave a note, to go somewhere. What were the chances she would come looking for him at the moment he stepped out? Yet the possibility froze him. The whole town seemed shuttered anyway. There was probably not much to do outside of this room. Even the landlady seemed displeased to be dealing with business at the moment. He showed up at her door, holding a bag containing day old bread and a few mangos. The kitchen at the restaurant was closed, but they were not going to send him away hungry. Ms. Loa cracked the door when he knocked and almost closed it without a word, but something stopped her. She looked at the bag.

“Do I smell bread from Tino’s place?”

“Yeah, you mean the restaurant over in the harbor, right?”

“They’re always sending me their riff-raff.” Marcus started to protest, but she cut it with a maternal tone, “Come in, Come in.”

Marcus took out his mobile. It had a luster and its surface was still slick. It was a new model, one that he had not even put on the shelves yet. The shipment came in the day before Allison decided to run; on their way out, he grabbed one. He was not one to steal nor did he covet new devices, but something possessed him to pocket this one. As he turned it on it occurred to him that he would have to use his net credentials. Would Links track him to this island and bring him in for going AWOL? Probably not. If anything, he would be putting Allison at risk.

Welcome New User. Enter Name, the screen read. That was odd. Usually this process demanded your unique ID and the device would boot your information. He never had a mobile give him the option to type his name. What would happen if…

Welcome Fred Farmer. Enter birth Date. Marcus made up a birthday with a year not far from his own. He followed the prompts and found himself inventing a whole person from scratch. Why was he doing this? Rather, how was he doing this? After he submitted his profile the screen resolved into a clean workspace with a stylized depiction of the New St. Louis Skyline. Some of the usual applications were available, but some of the links on the home screen were unfamiliar. This certainly was not his normal net space, which was currently cluttered with store business.

“Project.” Marcus told the device. Normally one would connect directly to a video wall, but the walls here were static. Most devices were able to project onto a blank wall. A blue light shone from the top of the mobile and drew the contents of his screen on the wall. He set the mobile on a table and adjusted the angle until he had a stable image.

Marcus stepped up to the wall and pressed the Town Hall icon. It was an asynchronous discussion board. People were posting thoughts in audio, video, and text. He pressed one message titled “Stay out of it.”

We have flourished because we have been left alone and we leave others alone. The moment we get involved in another country’s conflict, we forfeit our obscurity and neutrality.

     Another was titled “Stop Links!”

If we do not do something now, we’ll be another Links colony. He’ll bring fragmentation and drain our resources.

     The last one he read was called “Save them.”

Hundred of people are trapped on Nesson. Their basic human rights are not guaranteed and they are in a potential warzone.

     Marcus backed out of the town hall. Another link was titled “Fahr talk.” This was a replay of the meeting they were watching before Allison ran off. The beginning was mainly administrative concerns and introductions. The main speaker gave his name as Simon and identified as a New St. Louisian. He said he had been studying activity on the main land. He wanted to share what he had learned and introduce a special guest.

***

Allison was riding a half full, all silent elevator. She did not know exactly where to start, but she felt confident that if fate landed both her and her brother on the same island, she could manage to locate him. The island really was not that large, but the city was bigger than anything she could imagine. There were immersive holoworlds that seemed quaint compared to New St. Louis. Even if they were occupying the same point in horizontal space, there were so many levels to this city that she may never find him.

She was feeling her way through the city. She felt no anxiety walking through the maze that took her out of the harbor. She did not hesitate when there was a fork in the road, she just kept walking. When the walls opened up a bit, she saw several ground level building entrances. Some looked like public access, but many were nothing more than fire escapes. The real entrances and exits were many stories above.

Now she had a hard time deciding, but she kept moving. There was a set of revolving doors ahead, just a little to her left. She had never seen these in real life. Trying out a new kind of door was as good of a reason as any to pick a building. How should she proceed? Did she just walk into them?

No one else was around to observe using them. There were bars on each door, she took that to mean she should just push her way in. The door spun with a swish as brushes on the bottom of the doors scraped the floor. Something was incredibly satisfying about operating the revolving doors; she almost made a second revolution before entering the building, but she did not really have time for that.

Inside was a cramped, tiled lobby. Two elevator doors glared ahead, to her right was a large desk with a small woman sitting behind it. Allison nearly blew past her, but noticed the woman was staring at a screen.

“Excuse me.” Allison said. Her voice echoed on the hard floors. There was no response. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

“Huh?” The darkly dressed woman sat up straight and looked around. Her age was hard to read, she had a deep tan and few wrinkles. Something about her eyes belied her youthful complexion.

“Do you mind if I ask what you are watching?”

“What? What do you mean what am I watching?”

“I mean, what’s that on your screen?”

“My question is, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home watching and getting ready for the vote?”

“The vote?”

“Quit messing with me.”

“No no, I really don’t understand.”

“Wait a minute. You look familiar.”

“How’s that?”

“I don’t know, not like anyone I know, but like someone I’ve seen very recently. Have you been to this floor before?”

“I’ve never even been to this building.”

“What’s that? Never?”

“Never.”

“But how in the world do you not use this building? What, do you spend all your time on,” the woman hesitated and whispered, “ground level?”

“In a way I guess. Anyway, you’re watching that meeting you say?”

“That meeting? Yeah, and it scares me to death. We’re not equipped for war, but we’re making military decisions. But I just know the island is going to vote for going to Nesson. Bunch of idiots, haven’t learned anything from history yet.”

“And that meeting, where is it happening?”

The woman scrunched her face in concentration. This added a decade to her apparent age. She stared at Allison for three long seconds and responded, “Twenty-third floor.”

“On this building?”

“Alright, alright! Quit messing around, I can’t hear.” The woman relaxed her face and looked back to her screen.

Allison decided not to press her luck and walked to the elevators. She pushed the single button that was mounted between the shining doors. She was the first on, but others trickled in as the elevator ascended. The first couple of stops looked residential, but as they climbed closer to the twenty-third floor the doors more frequently opened into rooms full of other elevators. The dial for this elevator showed the top at twenty-five, but when the doors opened for twenty-three and she stepped out, she was in a room surrounded by elevator doors labeled for ranges of floors. The highest said 106, but she wondered if she went to that floor whether she might find another room like this that would take her higher. That was something to investigate another time. She stepped through an open corridor that would take her out to the building.

She rounded a corner and found herself in a broad atrium. The center was open with terraces in a horseshoe along the outer wall. There were three levels looking out into this space. The fourth wall was made of an asymmetrical mosaic of windows and several doorways on her level. She could smell flowers and coffee. Conversations that were several seconds old bounced from the ceiling back to the floor and back to the ceiling. They combined to make a harmony.

She was on the twenty-third floor, but this was not the place. It certainly was an impressive place, as far as places go, but it was not the place she needed. Allison oriented herself towards the doors. Though she could see them clearly the whole time, she had to walk up and down half flights of stairs and squeeze through botanical paths to get there. The lights reflected too brightly off the windows to be sure what was on the other side, but as she approached the shadow of a leviathan was resolving. Once she was standing in the doorway, turning this way and that to let the people by, she saw where she was. It was a train station.

To get updates on Nesson and my other works, follow me on twitter: @aanderson2323

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After two days of managing the store, Allison was developing a sort of rhythm. She learned from which customers to expect a problem and what it took to satisfy them. She found that assigning herself the title manager automatically garnered an air of authority. From some people anyway. The population of the island being what it was, she was looked down upon by many. Forget the fact that she held the resources here, many could not forget how wealthy and powerful they were at home. They were still wealthy in a way, but now their fortunes rested on the good will a few states felt towards Links.

Allison was young, but she understood the fragility of currency by fiat. Perhaps Links had a hidden resource, besides access to over sea trade routes, but how long could he expect to hold those with little more than a private security force. How long would the residents of Nesson City be satisfied in their non-relative wealth? If everyone here was rich, how could anyone be? Sure, they were still wealthy in a global sense, but at some point, they would have to tire of being around a population of equal means. At least Marcus and Allison were around to take their money and make them feel elevated.

A shift was occurring, she knew. One long overdue. Corporations were no longer content with implied power and control. They were seeking the explicit power that older governments had lost long ago. Links, she was sure, would only be the first. There was something lurking under all the chaos surrounding this city. There was intentionality; she just could not pinpoint the direction. She knew Links was the source though, for all his vitriol about attacks and sovereignty, he was in control of the situation. Maybe she had been around the Ecologists too long, she was starting to adopt their paranoia.

No one noticed though. The news covered little of what was happening in Nesson. That the settlement had actually seceded was buried under reports of eco-terrorists and relations with Pacific nations. She had enough first hand material to expose a hidden world to the general public. How would she get the story out though? The news programs were clearly not interested and dropping the story into the social sphere would be like shouting into a waterfall.

While she managed the store, her mind remained on her role as journalist. She needed to use the information she had, but simply reporting it was not the way. All this time undercover, how could she make it useful?

“Excuse me,” a middle-aged woman without a wrinkle visible on her stretched skin, nor a hair out of place in her light brown hair interrupted Allison’s thoughts. The woman looked at her nametag. “Uh, Margery, where would I find fresh flowers?”

Margery was Marcus’s idea of an alias. “They’re down with the groceries m’am.” Allison walked her to the edge of the second floor, which overlooked the ground floor and pointed to a small display of flowers. The woman thanked her and walked to the escalator. As Allison’s eyes tracked back to the second floor, they stopped on two men at the front door. She did not recognize them, but something about them was out of place. Both wore suits, not suits for the sake of style, but with a look of obligation. One was older, one younger, but both had similar dark hair and a cinnamon complexion. They were standing still, but their eyes were scanning the store.

“Connie, can you identify the two customers at the door?”

<Certainly, Allison. That would be Agents Diaz and Ali of the FBI.>

Allison’s nostrils dilated, but she stood still. She knew Connie was behind this. It was the first time she had called her Allison since last week when she called her family. How could a computer want her gone so passionately? It did not matter now. She had to go. Calmly as she could, Allison walked away from the front and to the apartment. She would grab her bag, throw in what food she could carry and some basic supplied. She gave herself two minutes to pack before she would climb down a fire escape at the back of the building.

Marcus was in the kitchen of the apartment when she walked in. “What’s up?” he asked before turning towards the door. She went to her room without answering but he turned in time to see her tight lips and red face. He followed her and saw her throwing things haphazardly into a duffle bag. “Going somewhere?”

She looked up eyes glassy and blurted, “Yeah, sorry, it’s time for me to leave.” She did not stop moving.

“What happened? I know the customers here are a bit of a handful, but I thought you were getting comfortable. You’re really better at it than I am.”

“Oh it’s not the customers, ask that Connie of yours. I’m sure she will be more than glad to explain.”

“Connie! What’s going on?” No response.

“Huh, I guess not.” Allison was angry enough to cry now and moving blindly. She was done packing and tried to walk past Marcus quickly but stumbled. He caught her. At the mention of Connie he remembered her insistence of notifying the security force.

“OK. You have to go. I get that. But you know what? I’m kind of tired of this place anyway. I might just come with you.” Allison opened her mouth but Marcus kept talking, “Now listen Helen, I’m coming along like it or not. Besides, I know just the place.”

***

Allison and Marcus were able to leave Nesson City with the help of a borrowed motorboat. Neither of them recognized the vessel as belonging to any island residents, but they were glad to find it. Marcus did not mention their destination once on the way out or on the boat. Perhaps it was fear that his computerized helper might find out where they were going, though in truth it would be far easier for Connie to track the boat by GPS than to eavesdrop. Besides, she had what she wanted, which was Allison off the island. Maybe she would preferred Marcus stay. Surely, she would get along with the next owner.

Perhaps Marcus did not mention their destination because it sounded unrealistic. How could they be expected to find it without any real navigation skills or a knowledge of these waters? He pointed the ship out to the open ocean, choosing direction by a sort of instinctual memory. Their surroundings were uniform: water, waves, wind. Something felt familiar though, like traveling on an old, overgrown path. He could not see the correct direction, but he could feel it.

Allison was not worried about their ability to find land. They had food enough for weeks, and what better place to hide from the authorities than the middle of the ocean? Sure, there were a lot more comfortable places, more interesting places, but she was sure to stay hidden here. Poor Justin, she thought, roaming the country trying to track her. He could not find her out here. No one would find them out here. Maybe someday they would see each other again and she would explain that he never found her because she was nowhere.

“Land, ho!” Marcus screamed, jarring Allison out of her head. Her heart sped for two beats before she felt her stomach drop. So much for being nowhere.

“What? Are we pirates now?” She infused a sardonic tone, more to brighten her own mood than joke with Marcus.

“It seemed appropriate. Anyway, look over there.” He pointed at a vertical line rising over the horizon. The shape was familiar and she knew immediately where they were headed.

“New S…”

“Shh.. Yes. We’ll talk about it on land.” The land in question was not visible for another several miles, but the dense snarl of skyscrapers resolved as they drew nearer. They did not speak until they landed in a crowded little harbor. They moored the boat and hailed a water taxi.

“How are we going to pay for this?” Allison asked, causing the driver to turn around.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a stash of hard currency,” Marcus said as much to the driver as to her. The driver turned around after they finished loading their meager luggage and sped away to New St. Louis.”

***

The streets were uncommonly navigable. Signs and fliers were plastered everywhere. New St. Louis cannot afford to remain insular. Special election on the formation of The Territorial Defense Committee, The signs read. Through the windows, they could see every bit of indoor space was crammed and the windows fogged with conversation.

Something was wrong in the Harbor when they arrived. Normally it was a hive of Links employees on leave and New St. Louisians on a bender. As they stepped off the taxi, they watched a ferry departing half full. On land, there was little activity. Marcus looked at the entrance to Jack’s as they walked past. It was open. He noticed Allison looking as well. Did she know Jack’s? Neither spoke about it. This was not exactly a gambling atmosphere. Marcus walked on as if he knew where to go, but honestly he did not know this city outside of the Harbor. He saw the path into the proper city, but he felt a pull at his hand as he started to walk towards it.

“Over there.” Allison said, pointing at a sign featuring something like a hand painted cornucopia. The sign was in a pidgin Marcus did not understand, but it had to be a restaurant.

“I guess I could go for something to eat.” Allison did not respond, she continued to drag him towards the sign. Inside, a family was sitting at a round, unfinished wooden table, watching a screen projected on the top. Marcus did not see many screens in New St. Louis. It was certainly odd for a group to gather around one. A girl, maybe sixteen, wearing a yellow dress and clean tan apron turned her head. She was dressed for work, but the expression on her face said she was not expecting customers. Her eyes softened when she looked at Helen. She waved them over and stood. Marcus was expecting to be lead to a table for two, but instead she swung two more chairs around to the table where she sat. The family did not take their eyes off the screen, but scooted their chairs to make room. The waitress took them by the shoulders and lead them to their seats.

On the screen a young man was speaking. The frame was close; they could only see his face and shoulders. Something about him made Allison think about Justin.

“… The threat is not exactly territorial. No one is coming in here to kick us out, take our homes, or explicitly tell us what to do. There is a real threat though…”

“But the Nesson situation is a real threat. We’re too close to the conflict.” An older male voice interjected in the background.

“We could easily be absorbed.” A woman’s voice added.

“Sure, sure. I understand that immediate concern,” the young man said, “but Links is not explicitly interested in taking over New St. Louis. Whatever he does here, or intends to do here, it will be to create fragmentation and disorder.”

“To what end?” someone called.

The camera zoomed out to show a large, crowded oval table surrounded by windows. A clear blue sky surrounded the gathering.

“It is much easier to consolidate power if you can create a power vacuum. Now, I don’t know what kind of world Links is trying to create, but I am now convinced that the fragmented structure of the world is intentional.”

“Fragmented structure?”

“Right, when was the last time you spoke to anyone outside of New St. Louis? Any of you? Probably never, and this settlement is not that old. Two, maybe three generations live here. Everyone here has connections to another country, mostly the United States, within living memory, but no one communicates outside of New St. Louis. The rest of the world may as well not exist. To most of the world, this place does not exist. I am not here to judge if that is right or wrong, but there is a danger.”

Allison saw someone creeping into frame, the young man was motioning for someone to come closer. The person sitting closest to the speaker looked over his shoulder, got out of his chair and offered it to a boy. A boy about sixteen, the young man leading the meeting said something by way of introduction but Allison could not hear. The world had turned silent around her, she could not connect what she was seeing with the context.

“Thank you Simon. Hi, my name is Justin Fahr. Until a few weeks ago I lived in the US sprawl. I can’t pretend to know about international politics and how things work around here, but I think if I explain how I got here, you might understand what fragmentation means.”

***

Justin had memorized his speech. There was no way he could stand in front of so many people, and so many cameras, if he did not practice until it was automatic. It was now so ingrained that he found himself telling a practiced story but his thoughts were on the last few days in New St. Louis.

“Hey, Justin! So glad to see you today!”

“Hi Earl, big win?” Earl had stood in his typical cowboy get-up wearing a not-so cowboy like grin. Justin looked at him from behind a cage. He was wearing the same dark pants, red tie, and black vest the rest of the tellers wore. A uniform they called it. Whatever it was he, when he first started wearing it he’d never been so itchy and uncomfortable in his life. After he got over the restraint of it, he kind of liked the look. He felt like he was living in the twentieth century.

Earl had been in all day the last two days. When he saw Justin, he seemed to know he was new and gravitated towards him. He apparently made a point of getting to know all the cashiers. The large, conspicuous man took his winnings, enough to feed a man for a month or gamble for two days.

Justin had started working at Jack’s after a winning streak of his own. He won enough off one discarded coin to take out his own room and buy a rail pass. When Simon disappeared with little more than a note, Justin returned to Jack’s to see if he could duplicate his success. Of course, he lost everything.

The owner, Jack, noticed Justin, could pick out that he was an outsider from the moment he saw him. “I see we’ve cleaned you out my friend.” He said to Justin, taking a seat at the table that just took Justin’s last chip. “Perhaps you need a new line of work. Gaming doesn’t seem to suit you.” Justin took the job, and found he liked it more than expected. His first day was a whirlwind, but he learned quick. That was the day he met Earl, who warmed to him quickly. The man eyed him suspiciously, “Do I know you, son?” he asked. “You sure? I swear I’ve met you before,” he responded when Justin shook his head.

The second day, something changed. Earl was there all day, and the place was not exactly empty, but overall it was slow. There were worried looks on some faces and a lot of people were leaving early. Not long after Earl left, Jack gathered the Cashiers and let them know they were closing early. Jack’s did not normally close for another three hours, but the place was already deserted. Justin changed into a t-shirt and shorts and walked out of a back door. In the alley there was a shadowy figure leaning against the opposite wall, surrounded by fliers that had to have been posted that day.

“There you are!” Simon called.

“Here I am? Where have you been?”

“Didn’t I leave a note? Anyway, something’s come up. I need your help.”

“My help?”

“Yeah, you’re perfect for the job. There’s a meeting tomorrow, I need you to come with me.”

“But I have work here tomorrow.”

“Jack will be fine. Besides, I already talked to him. He’s a very understanding guy. I really don’t expect much gambling will be going on tomorrow anyway.”

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For two days, Justin had seen nothing but water and waves. There was some aquatic life now and then, but his surrounding were overall homogeneous. He adapted quickly to life aboard a boat, the ocean was alien yet comforting. Though they had a definite destination and Simon pointed out the direction every few hours, Justin was unprepared for the sight on the horizon. Even the descriptions Simon gave were inadequate. There it was, a place of obscurity and legend. So he was told anyway, this was the first Justin had heard of New St. Louis.

The trip here was dull, dull in a way entirely new to Justin. The desert was not so dull. The ocean for all the life below the surface and for all the movement did little to excite him. Even the lead up to their transoceanic voyage was a letdown. They got into Nesson with little more than a nod from Simon to a ferry operator. They drove their car straight onto a small boat and, about an hour later, drove straight into the succeeded state of Nesson. Ok, so Justin had to admit, manually driving a car onto a boat was kind of cool. Still, it seemed like it should be more difficult. Simon’s ability to land them in a rogue state with so little excitement was curious. The next day they were driving through abandoned neighborhoods that looked much like Justin’s own neighborhood. The majority of the population, it seemed, fled back to the US after Links separated. Simon claimed that some people remained, the most extreme loners and possibly people hiding from who knows what. Also, he claimed, a sizable population lives at the end of the line, disconnected from the rest of the development. That however, was not their destination.

***

If Neopolis was crowded, New St. Louis was a solid wall. People, buildings, and vehicles pressed together to form something like sedimentary rock. Layers on layers. Justin could look out of the window of his room and see almost directly into the neighboring building. If the window opened, he could probably reach over the twenty or so stories and knock on the window before him. If he looked down, he could see little alleyways through which people traveled. Two by two on foot. Occasionally, he would see the tram glide over the street and straight through the buildings. It was not as fast as the interurban trains of Neopolis, but still rather fast for something moving through such an environment. Even the air seemed viscous with activity.

“Where do those trains stop?” Justin wondered aloud. Simon sat up from his bed; Justin thought he had been napping. “There are stations in the buildings, quite frequent stops actually. You have to ring a bell and the conductor will let you off.” This sounded strange to Justin whose only experience with public transit involved set stops at large stations spaced far apart.

Justin and Simon were sharing a room about the size of a closet but somehow still furnished with two beds and a desk. Justin initially lamented the desk, but Simon spent a fair amount of time at it writing in a little black book. He tapped the eraser on the armrest of his chair between bursts of handwriting. That desk took up entirely too much room, could people not write in bed if they really had to write? Between the furniture and their bags, not much of the floor was visible. The cost of lodging here was ridiculous, Simon explained. Obviously, space was at a premium, but surely they could do better than this. He could not complain about a free place to stay though. Even if he had any money left, he doubted he could use his credits here.

Deciding what to do next or where to go was becoming harder by the day. Justin was already further west than he had imagined he would go. How to pick up his sister’s trail from here? He thought about the island of New St. Louis. She could be here only a few hundred feet away and his chance of finding her would be slim. Not that he thought she was here.

His original idea was to follow Simon until he could not or he got some sort of lead. Once they were in New St. Lewis, it turned out Simon had things to do and no Justin could not come. He would be back though. Justin tried to focus on a new plan, but his thoughts were easily lost to the wonder of this place. The amount he could discover in this building alone!

Simon left in the late morning, effectively doubling Justin’s personal space. He was alone for the first time in days. What would he do with such precious private time? With two large steps, he was in the bathroom squeezing between the shower and the commode so he could look in the mirror. He pushed his cow licked hair around and admired his new tan. Tan might be a bit strong, but it was a large change from the translucent white he had been most of his life. Justin started to walk back into the room, tripped over Simon’s bed, turned around, and walked out.

The hallway outside his room was eerily vacant when he stepped into it. The curious lack of other people ended abruptly when the elevator door opened for him. A single glob of persons stood before him, shoulder-to-shoulder flesh against flesh. How could he fit? Too late. During his hesitation, the door slid shut and Justin pressed the button again. A minute passes and another car fuller than the last appeared. This time Justin pushed his way in, swimming through arms and legs, no one acknowledging the personal contact. The rest of the way down only a few more squeezed in. At the tenth floor most of the car exited and by the fifth the second to last was disembarking. It was a young girl, sixteen maybe, with a kind face. She turned to Justin and was about to speak, but instead let the door close between them with Justin alone in the elevator. Strange, he thought, that no one else is going to street level.

Justin prepared his eyes for sunlight as the elevator doors opened, but was met with shadow. There was nothing to speak of in the building down here, just a set of double doors and a cramped foyer. Outside, ground level was dark alleys and scattered, forgotten refuse. Rather than returning to the building to find out where everyone else went, though, he walked on into what he thought of as a kind of limbo. It was relatively vacant here, not that there was no one around, but he could walk a straight line without bumping into someone. The people here all seemed in to be in a kind of hurry, as if they only came down here to expedite a journey. Justin saw a couple of small kiosks selling conveniences: Snacks, netpaper, actual newspaper, cigarettes. Justin did not recognize the cigarettes at first. They were prohibitively difficult to come by in the US. From what he understood, only extremely wealthy people even bothered to smoke. Here though, he saw a middle-aged man in clean but worn clothing and a tired gate walk up to a kiosk to buy a pack of cigarettes. He did not seem particularly wealthy and, frankly, the packaging gave no impression of luxury. Justin considered buying a pack out of sheer curiosity. He did not bother to inquire about them though; he had no money with which to buy them.

He was becoming conspicuous. People turned their heads as they walked past. The looks were puzzled, annoyed. They were looks given to children running wild with no parents to be found. It was the look his mother gave when his father stood with the refrigerator door open too long. Perhaps Justin looked like an outsider. No, the looks were because he was not moving. Idling was not acceptable here. It was at least unusual; so, he moved.

He moved to move, not to get anywhere in particular. It was the sort of aimlessness he applied when he first left home. Before long, he found himself in a maze of solid walls. The buildings loomed over enclosed paths; he felt as if he were spelunking. Occasionally a path would cross his own, giving him a momentary choice before he was enclosed again. He did not keep track of where he turned and was lost before he thought of questioning where he was. Before panic could creep in, he heard a murmur and saw a glow projected on the walls of this urban cave. The hiss of voices grew louder until his path, after he turned a gentle corner, opened to a large square with a view of a harbor. He was on the edge of the city, at the coast. This was not, however, the side of the island through which he and Simon entered. There was something rougher here. The word ‘salty’ came to mind. Here and there, neon signs flushed outlines of money, women, and beverages. There were smaller buildings, four or five stories. Compared to the rest of New St. Louis, this place felt practically subterranean.

Justin had read about red light districts in old novels. Usually they led young men astray or old men into financial ruin. Sometimes people had fun in these stories, but there was always a consequence. There were countless opportunities to visit such places through holorooms with no ramifications. Well, none except for those that that became addicted to the simulation. But really, any sim could ensnare. It had not occurred to Justin that neighborhoods like this could really exist.

What stopped Justin from testing his fate in this new world was not prudence but poverty. He had to content himself to watching the crowds, which had no problem idling here. Some small groups were laughing and shouting as they left one building and entered another. Some single men looked at doors with uncertainty. There was the occasional woman. All were suspiciously attractive and enamored with their hosts. Their faces were all bright, but their eyes were dark and heavy. How did a young woman end up in a place like this? He froze.

A girl on the run would need money and a place to hide. What if? No. Allison was not the type. She would not sell any part of herself, not even her time or attention. A place like this would offend all her principles. He did not think his sister a prude, but this would not be a place for her. But where was her place? What about these other girls? Is this really their place? Did they have parents and siblings that wondered where they were?

Justin was distracted from his thoughts on social justice when a flicker hit the edge of his retina. A small silver coin illuminated by blinking lights winked at him. It was only a step away, laying in a crack in the concrete, pointing his vision at Jack’s Casino.

To get updates on Nesson and my other works, follow me on twitter: @aanderson2323

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<Mark> no response. <Hello, Mark> Marcus rolled over in bed, the place where he had taken refuge against the disgruntled bourgeoisies at his door. How strange, he thought, an inversion of the French Revolution. The rich beating down the doors to demand resources from the, well he was not exactly poor, but not of their class by any means. He looked around. He always found himself looking for a woman’s shape when he heard Connie’s voice. It was a reflex; he knew she was not really there. He faced the speaker.

“Yes, Connie,” he grumbled.

<There is someone at the door.>

“There are a lot of people at the door.”

<You know this one, a man who calls himself Earl.>

“Earl? What’s that asshole doing here? Alright, is there some way to let him in without inviting the hoards?”

<Wait. You didn’t want everyone to come in?> Odd, that was some genuine sass from a computer. It was not that he did not consider Connie conscious, but he did not expect attitude like that. <Actually, he’s already inside.>

“What? You said he was at the door.”

<I didn’t say which side. Your friend Helen let him in, I guess she was wandering around the store and saw him out there. I suppose you realize they have met before as well?>

“Yeah, more than aware. Well, I better go join this reunion.” He threw on the same faded T-shirt, one that had been a solid color when he bought it, and jeans he had worn the previous day and walked out the door without so much as a splash of water on his face. Closing the door he could see Helen and Earl sitting near the front door at a demo patio table and chair set. The set was solid iron with a tile top. It was a bit much for Marcus’s taste but it sold quite well, despite a lack of island aesthetic about it. In the background he could see the remnants of the mob that had been at his door for days. It was no longer the whole island, but a fair number still. And worse, they seemed to be the more livid for the loss of the moderate members of their band.

Helen turned as if sensing Marcus’s look, she waved, “Look who I found!”

“And here I thought I’d finally lost him for good!” Marcus called back.

“Hardy har,” responded Earl to the perplexity of the others. “Seriously though, you’ll be glad to see me this time.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Helen said, “It sounds like he will be good for business.”

“So he’s good for something?”

Helen frowned and Earl smiled, Marcus elaborated, “I wouldn’t be here, nor would that crowd, if it were not for the two of you.”

“Be that as it may,” Earl said. He was adopting a kind of refined tone, “I am here to bring good tidings from Links.”

“Oh, the man himself?” Marcus sneered. By now. he was at the table and need not yell across the store. Despite two empty chairs he did not sit.

“The same. Now listen, he’s pulled a lot of strings, worked a lot of connections you know. He’s managed to create a new currency. One acknowledged, or at least it will be, by the rest of the world. The rest of the world besides the US, I mean. What’s more, it has a real value backed, in part, on the worth of the residents of Nesson. Based on this island in particular. The other part is the value of the trade routes now controlled by Links Corp.” At this, Helen’s frown deepened. She was happy that Marcus would be able to resume a normal life, but Links’ theft of the water rights of hundreds of nations chilled her. Marcus seeing this cut into Earl’s explanation.

“So we’re getting our economy back, but at the expense of the people of the Pacific?” This was more of a clarification to Marcus than an accusation, but he was glad to see the interest in Helen’s eye emerging.

“Well sure, if you want to be a downer about it. Look, these were international waters. Links Corp didn’t do anything illegal.”

“Because there’s no law! It’s still wrong.” Helen pushed herself back into her chair.

Earl shrugged as if to ask ‘Who can say what is right and wrong?’ “Whatever the means, I’d say you’re averting a revolution here. This has already happened. I just wanted to deliver the good news, give your computer the exchange rates, and maybe take away a frozen pizza. I’d be glad to be your first customer.

Helen left them. Her face was red, steaming. Marcus and Earl spoke cordially for a few moments before the tall man in the cowboy hat indeed left with a pizza in hand, via a side door.

***

Jennifer Fahr was watching the smart vacuum wind its way around the living room, cleaning dust one moment from the Himalayas, the next from Death Valley. Or so the video wall would have her believe. She had work to do, but really she had not done much of anything for days. Weeks actually. The odd thing was, no one seemed to notice, or care, that she was behind. She did not know what was worse, that she was letting work pile up in the malaise left by her absent children, or the revelation that her job mattered so little that no one even pretended to care that she was not doing it.

What did she do for a living anyway? She went to several virtual meetings and sent countless messages every day, but she did not produce anything. She was in some way supporting a leading holonet content provider, but how did completing paperwork that could be done faster and cheaper by AI help anything? Now that she ceased doing it, she wondered if anyone was using the forms she completed or the reports she wrote.

The weeks since Justin’s disappearance she spent guzzling coffee and staring about the house at nothing in particular. Sometimes she would turn on the news or some other program so as not to feel insane doing nothing all day. She did not really process the voices, just let them roll over her as she sat in the same rigid, non-reclining chair. She heard something under the fake laughter, the transition music, and the yelling. It was a common thread, a humming. A monotonous, deadening vibration. She could listen to that hum for hours, laying statue still.

Once her husband came in to show her a new report about her daughter, who was apparently calling herself Helen now, and her likely location in Japan. “Do you think that’s where Justin is going?” James asked.

“How should I know where my children who don’t write or call are?” She said it and felt ridiculous. It was like something a little old woman said in sitcoms. These were not words for a woman just in her forties that did not look a bit older than her own daughter. So she told herself, and James wasn’t going to argue. Extended family called often asking if there were updates and how were they doing? She let James handle the calls. For Jennifer’s part, she had not set foot in a Holoroom since Allison called, just before Justin left to find her. That was the sum of the note Justin left, “Gone to find Allison,” as if he were running out for a milkshake and would be right back. Not that anyone ran out for milkshakes anymore.

The idea that she missed her children did not linger at the forefront of her consciousness. She did not lay around all day thinking, “I miss my children, this is why I’m depressed.” Yet she knew this was the case. Knew well enough that she need not even think it to herself. She, Jennifer, quickly forgot about the Holoroom, once a staple of her day. Now she found an odd joy in the separation two dimensions lent. She began to think of the old days of Television sets, a screen isolated from the rest of the house showing only what was chosen by someone outside the house. Not that this was her experience. Jennifer’s parents had upgraded their home with video walls when she was just four feet tall. Her children never knew a world without Holorooms. She felt a kind of romance for the world without V-walls or holograms that you only feel for things never known or experienced.

“Jennifer come quick,” James called from the Holoroom.

“No thanks Jim. Just send it to the wall in here if it’s important.”

“You’re damn right it’s important. Allison is making a holocall!” and within a few seconds Jennifer’s dreams of a less technological life vanished. Her daughter was in the other room in three dimensions; who knew where she really was, but if this was the most Allison could be there, Jennifer would take it.

***

Allison alternated between guilt and wonder that she did not know until now. Her little brother had been gone from home for more than a month and on her account. Had it really been so long since she had been in contact. Sure, the life of an undercover reporter turned fugitive implied some limits on communication, but what that meant only hit her now.

It was touching in a way to know her sibling cared for her enough to seek her out even when her parents had already given up attempts to call her. Still, it was reckless, horrifying in its way. More than a woman only a few years older traveling international waters with a band of terrorists? That did not matter. What did was that she never meant to involve anyone else in her risk taking. She had intentionally kept personal relationships to a minimum. She alienated friends by avoiding calls, declining invitations, and never extending her own. She discovered how quickly even close friendships fade. Perhaps she was still friends with all those she left behind when she became Helen, if she called someone up maybe they could chat and it would be like old times. She could not test this theory now, but it was one counter to the icy thought that her friends might forget her so easily.

Apparently though, her family would not put her out of mind in that way. Until she called her mother, Allison had barely thought about them. When she saw her mother in the holoroom, who had not bothered with avatars or enhancements, she looked happy to see her but tired, exhausted actually. It was not from drowsiness, but constant thought on a futile topic. Her father had more of the reaction she expected. Shock, pleasant surprise. He did not look so disturbed by her absence, more glad by her sudden communication.

Her brother’s reaction to her disappearance confused Allison. Sure, they had been close as young children, but when she left her teenage years and he entered his, they drifted apart. Now he was traveling cross-country with no more leads on her than the news or police had. If he did find her, it would not bode well for her future as a fugitive. What now? Should she try to find him, contact him? She did not have a clue where he was, no more than he did of her location. One of them needed to stay put for there to be any hope of their reunion. She was sure he was on the move; there would be no point to his journey if he just stopped somewhere and waited. Still, the question remained: stay or go?

Did she want her brother to be able to find her? She would like to see him. Maybe he had something important to tell her. What he might know that their parents did not she could not imagine. The fact remained that she had intentionally separated herself from her family to protect herself and, to some extent, them. She was glad to know that no connection had been established between ‘Helen’ and Allison’s family. She preferred it stay that way. Also, if some inexperienced teenager could find her, what chance did she have against the authorities?

Perhaps she should not think about it at all. there was no guarantee that he would find her, far from it. If he did by some miracle, perhaps it was fate or some testament to his capabilities. This is what she got for letting herself be Allison, even if only for a few minutes.

<Allison, Mark could use your assistance in the office.>

“OK Connie, tell him I’ll be there in a minute,” She began to collect herself and move towards the door from the apartment to the store but something froze her. What did that computer call her? Had it been reading her mind? No, no, AI is magical in a way, but not that kind of way. She must have been listening in on the holocall. Allison knew Connie had been after her from the start. What to do now? How to play this off? First stop, she figured, would be to go see Mark and pretend she had not heard her true name.

“You called for me?” Allison asked, now standing in the office looking at Marcus bent over a desk. Up until that week, the office had seen little use, Connie kept records just fine by Marcus’s standards and he preferred wandering the store to sitting in an office waiting to be needed. When the currency changed, though, he had a true need for the office. It was not that he was computing exchange rates. Connie could do that. Rather, he was dealing with vendors and customers who were skeptical of the new Pacifica, as Links had named it. His customers on the island were no longer camping outside his doors. They were now writing letters claiming his prices did not match exchange rates, others were complaining about the value of the Pacifica as if Marcus could change the international market at a whim. His vendors emphasized their preferences for dollar-based credits and often Marcus had to find a way to buy dollars with Pacificas without involving US banks. Even some countries particularly sympathetic to, or intimidated by, Links either would not deal with the Nesson economy or would freeze transactions before product made it out of the country. This left Marcus stuck with a bill and no stock to show for it.

These matters lit his desktop and kept him hunched over it. This type of permanent physical desk was now nearing obsolescence and was rarely used anymore. Marcus preferred them though; he liked the feel of a solid top resisting his touch as he tapped away. Sure, he could get a new portable desk that could project on any surface, but he also liked the idea that he had to work in a specific spot. This room, this piece of furniture, was reserved for a certain kind of work. When he left the room. he could not be made to do more work. Actually that was not true, all of his correspondence and records could be accessed from anywhere. Yet he told Connie that he should only do serious business in the office. He would go as far as placing a call on hold while he walked across the store to take it in the office. This gave the impression that he was busy anyway.

“Hi Helen,” Marcus said, looking up from the desktop screen, which had a mess of files open and illuminated his face, “Yeah, there is something I wanted to ask you.”

Allison stopped breathing for a heartbeat. Did that bitch of a computer tell him? Perhaps the choice stay or go was made for her, go her world screamed. “Yes…” she said, accusing with her eyes.

Marcus’s eyes were too unfocused to notice the harsh look from Allison’s face. They were not, however, too blurry to notice the slight bit of exposed hip between her shirt and jeans. “You know how busy I’ve been with this currency business?”

Allison exhaled but her fists remained clinched. “Yeah, sure.”

“Well, I haven’t had much time to keep up with the store. Connie tells me all is fine, but I get a little uncomfortable not being able to look myself you know?”

“Oh, yeah,” Allison let herself relax now.

“So, I was wondering. I know you’re kind of in hiding, but these people around here are self-centered and oblivious. You told me yourself that you used to walk around in crowds and no one noticed you. Anyway, would you be sort of my back up eyes and ears out there? I just want someone to make the rounds like I do, talk to people now and then, find out what they want, et cetera. What’s going on outside of the store, even if it’s just who won the last tennis doubles tournament. What do you say?”

“So you want me to act like store manager and like a legitimate citizen of the island?”

“Well, assistant manager maybe,” he smiled.

Allison thought about it in terms of the stay or go questions. If she said yes, she would have to stay. Sure, nothing would physically stop her from leaving after accepting Marcus’ request, but she owed him for his discretion. Besides, she was beginning to like him in a way. She just could not agree and then abandon him. Likewise, she did not think she could say no and stay. He would let her, but it was such a reasonable request, how could she say no and continue to live there? Her instincts were pushing her to refuse and find somewhere else to hide. “Yeah, ok, no problem. It’s the least I can do right?”

Marcus smiled, looked relieved and without a word returned to the same pressing order he was working on. Helen backed out of the office and turned to face the store. She felt light, like she might float away. The weight of her decision, now that it was made, acted as a fulcrum and let her effortlessly step into a new role. She could look over a ledge and watch the customers, her customers. She felt a responsibility towards them taking root. They really were helpless. Sure, they were great at manipulating markets and spending money. Many of them were quite intelligent, she was sure. But, left alone on this island without her or Marcus around, how long could they last? Someone had to feed and clothe them.

Maybe this could be a way to make a real difference. Here they were, a small population, isolated from the rest of the world with nearly limitless means. What could they accomplish? She could make some small changes to start, change a few of the products, slowly phase out some of the useless junk. If they were truly going to be on their own out here, they would need to establish some sort of governing body. No one was talking about it, but there was a power vacuum left by the secession. If someone did not take charge soon, Links would.

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It was hot. Unrealistically hot. When Simon opened the hatch, Justin could swear hot air penetrated the shaft before sunlight entered. It was a short climb out, maybe ten rungs up the ladder. They emerged in the middle of the desert with the tower some distance away but still visible. Somewhere in that tower Herman was searching for him, surely growing angrier by the moment. Perhaps not, perhaps he would not even notice. Either way, the train would be leaving soon without Justin.

There was a road here, but no sign of rail. They must be on some other side of the tower he reasoned. The road was cracked and had a thin layer of sand coating it, but still looked navigable. Unlike the roads in other parts of the country he had seen from trains, this one had no flora poking through the cracks. The plant life here was in no way hardy enough to grow through pavement.

Parked to the side of the road was something Justin had not seen much lately: a car. Without explanation, Simon began to approach the vehicle.

“You have a car?”

“It would seem so,” Simon said as if this was news to him.

“Not very, well, Neopolitan of you is it?”

Simon shrugged, “sometimes I need to get to places where trains don’t go.”

“Where? Like the sprawl?”

Simon shrugged again, “Get in,” he said. Justin had not argued about free rides yet and was not about to start now. “It’s solar if that makes you feel better.”

“You mean electric? Aren’t all cars?”

“No, most cars charge using whatever the nearest power plant uses to churn out electricity. This baby is all solar.”

“No plug?” Justin asked.

“No plug.” Simon confirmed. The source of electricity was not something Justin thought about much. He knew the switch to renewable energy happened before he was born.

“But all electricity is made from renewable resources, what’s so special about a solar car?”

“Well, for one thing I never have to stop to charge.”

“You drive far enough to discharge a battery?”

“Often, yes. Also, I like the idea of not depending on someone else to charge my battery.”

“I bet you do!”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing, nothing. Are you going to open the door or what?” Inside the car was small but comfortable. Back home the few times the family left the house involved packing into what was affectionately called the ‘family bus.’ Something was off in this little car though, besides the size.

“Hey, why are the seats all facing forward?” and only four of them with no floor space between? That part he kept to himself.

“So I can drive.”

“Drive? You drive? Why?”

“I like it, what can I say?”

“I didn’t know you could do that. Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Look around, what could we hit?” They both observed the miles of flat sand.

“OK, but what about when there’s traffic?”

“Well, none of the robot driven cars would ever let me get close enough to be a danger. Besides, people used to drive themselves all the time, for like a whole century.”

“Yeah, and a lot of people died.”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me, you should buckle up,” Simon pointed at Justin’s seat belt. Justin fumbled with it for a moment before he clicked the buckle home. The only time he ever had to use a seat belt was when the car warned of an emergency situation, which was never.

Simon pressed a few buttons. Justin heard a faint whine of current passing to the engine. Simon fastened his own belt and seconds later, they were traveling almost as fast as the trains. They began to pass houses. These were spread just a bit further apart than his own neighborhood. He guessed they were a mile apart driveway to driveway.

“So, what’s the next stop?” Justin asked, more to make conversation than out of real curiosity.

“The ocean my friend.” This surprised Justin, no stopping in little cities or offices on the way? His idea of travel was limited to the experiences of the past month. Trains stopped everywhere. His family car trips were always somewhere relatively close. The destination of the walk he took away from home was wherever he might find a place to rest.

“How long is that?” He asked.

“Ooo, five, six, seven hours? Something like that.” Justin could not believe it could be so easy. He expected several more days to make it that far, and then had no idea where to go from there.

“So, when we hit the ocean?” Justin asked. Simon made some hand gesture that suggested something aquatic.

“What? We’re swimming?!”

“No, no,” Simon laughed, “sailing, or boating rather. No sails involved.”

“To where?”

“West,” Simon saw the next question coming, “Don’t worry about it for now. Trust me, you’re going to like this trip. It’s a long drive and an even longer boat trip. Why don’t we pass the time and you tell me where you’re trying to get.”

Justin made some awkward noises. How much should he tell this man, about whom he knew nothing? Allison was a fugitive after all. He decided to be general about it. “I’m trying to find my sister, she left home several months ago and we recently lost contact with her.”

“So your parents sent you to find her?”

“Not exactly.”

“Ah, so a run away?”

“No, I’m going back, when I find her.” Simon Chuckled. “What?”

Simon shook his head. He is not going home any more than his sister is, he thought. “You must be a good brother, what are you going to say when you find her?”

Justin originally thought he would tell her to come home, that their parents were worried. He almost told Simon that was his plan, but the words would not form. He sat silent. Simon smiled.

***

Justin thought he was used to long car trips. The family trips to the nearest theme park or to a local historic sight were always at least a couple hours one way. It turned out that a six-hour car ride was longer than he thought. Surely longer than any other six hours he had spent. This included the walk from his home to Neopolis.

Simon was more accustomed to this sort of travel; he had many unusual ways of passing the time. There was a game that required finding something in the landscape for successive letters of the alphabet. A-Armadillo! Justin had never seen one live but he could point it out easy enough. B-Blacktop etc.

“C-Car,” Justin said.

“No, you can’t use the car, we’re in the car. It has to be something else, otherwise…”

“No, car! There!” Justin stuck a finger in the direction of a lone car on the horizon. At least, it was lone up until then. It was traveling in their lane and they were gaining on it.

“Oh, so it is,” Simon said. He began to describe another game that involved license plates, which was quite difficult in the desert he admitted, but was cut off by a panicked Justin.

“Look out! You’re going to hit them!” It took no time at all to approach the other vehicle, more of the bus type that Justin recalled from family trips.

“Don’t worry, watch this,” Simon accelerated and before they came any nearer, the other car changed lanes. It languidly timed its merge just right to not be hit and re-entered the lane just a couple of feet from their bumper. “See, robot cars always get out of the way.” Justin had never experienced such a thing. Autodrive cars always worked together so that changing lanes was safe and efficient. He knew there were evasive maneuvers they could perform, but had never even heard of one needing to be done. Then again, would he have noticed if the family bus made a move like that? He looked back at the large vehicle they had not almost hit and saw the family inside, ant like but visible, lounging relaxed and either snoozing or playing games. They certainly were not worried about a reckless manual driver.

“D-Desert.”

“Really? You can use that?” Justin asked, forgetting about the other car.

“Sure, why not?”

“Aren’t we in the desert as much as we’re in the car?”

“I would say the desert is outside the car myself.” Simon said in a philosophical tone.

“Whatever. So how much longer again?”

“Geeze kid, it’s only been two hours.”

“Yeah, but there’s nothing to mark the time. Hundreds of miles of desert look the same, the houses all look the same, at least the ones close enough to see. All their driveways look the same. I bet the next car we see will look the same as that last one we saw.”

“Most likely,” Simon said, “I didn’t make the sprawl my friend. I just have to drive through it. It’s actually kind of exotic to me, I could see the appeal.”

“Bleh,” Justin intoned.

“No really, all the space, the privacy, I get it.”

“But what about other people, you don’t think it sounds lonely?” Justin said.

“Didn’t you have friends? I bet you saw each other all the time in Holorooms.”

“Sure, but it’s different. You can see anyone anytime you want, but since I left I’ve realized how different that is from being surrounded by people in person.”

“Some people, or rather a lot, must not care about in person interaction.”

“No, I guess not.” They sat in silence for some time.

“E-Eleven.” Justin was point at a small road sign.

“Would you look at that, a mile marker. Haven’t seen one of those in a while.”

“A what now?”

“Nothing, they’ve ceased to have any meaning. In theory we should be eleven miles from somewhere, but as you can see,” Simon pointed at the horizon resting on miles of flat land, “There’s nothing around here. There was nothing around for another couple of hours, several hours by Justin’s reckoning.

“M-Mountain,” Simon said. Justin had been dozing and saw neither the mountain nor the wry smile on Simon’s face.

“We already passed M… We already finished the game,” Justin focused his vision ahead and sat up suddenly, “Oh, you mean mountains!”

“Indeed, I do. Which also means a leg of our journey is almost complete.”

“A leg? Just how many legs are we talking here?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll find the rest of the trip much more” Simon paused for a moment, “entertaining.”

“More fun than alphabetizing the road.” Justin grumbled.

“Now I don’t know if I’d say that,” Simon smiled. “Yeah, yeah, this should be fun. Educational at least.”

Thus was the first description Justin received of Los Angeles just before they entered the mountain range. As they wound through, something was happening to their surroundings. They could no longer see for miles ahead, but despite this fact there were more houses in view at any given moment. Some were to the side of the road, some further, clinging to the side of a mountain. They were mostly of the type of house he grew up in: large, indistinct. Except, they had ornaments outside of the houses, as if people were coming outside to spend time and possibly look at neighboring houses. There were also places where grass and other greenery had been tramped down, not by lawn tools but by feet, leaving these places as meandering brown streams around the houses. The further they went, the greater the signs of outdoor life until, for the first time since leaving Neopolis, he saw people outside. They were walking, playing, sitting, talking, all the parts of life he knew as indoor activities. It was not quite to the extent of Neopolis, he often wondered if the Neopolitans even had private residences. The people here had cars, the roads were meant for them, and there were no commercial buildings he could see.

There were other cars on the road, a lot of them now. Justin could not remember when they entered the traffic. It seemed to him that they were alone one moment and the next surrounded. These cars were all autodriven and they politely moved out of the way as Simon sped towards them. The desert between Neopolis and the mountains was nearly clear of traffic. Justin’s home had a fair amount of traffic, enough that the desert seemed eerie with its lack. This mountain community, though, made the traffic of Justin’s neighborhood seem closer to that desert. It was here that he could see what a marvel autodrive really was. The traffic halfway into the mountain was tight but fast. The only comparison in Justin’s experience was the foot and bike traffic of the Neopolitans, which whenever it approached this kind of density moved slowly and awkwardly. What was more impressive was watching the whole traffic pattern adjust to Simon, making way for him without ever slowing.

The passengers in these cars were engaged in the typical reading, net-surfing, and games, but they also appeared to be talking. He saw the occasional wave or hand signal from car to car. If cars were mobile living rooms, this was more like a mobile park or something Justin had only seen in Neopolis: a town square.

***

“What you’re seeing is a sort of relic. Anachronistic if you will.” Simon told Justin, who was looking at the cityscape unfolding before them. It appeared suddenly, abruptly as they crested the mountain and circled around a rock wall. From rocks, wild flowers, cars, and sprawling houses and lawns to miles of tightly packed single story buildings laid out in rigid grid lines. It was still sprawl, but a whole new interpretation of it. New to Justin anyway.

“Welcome to LA, this used to be the definition of car culture and low density living, now it’s one of the most urban places you’ll see outside of Neopolis.”

“But it’s huge! Far larger than any branch of Neopolis. There must be, what, a million people here?”

“Tens of millions.”

“All in the same place? But why?” Justin knew the closest city to his house had rotted away long before his birth as people spread further and further out and worked from home. The density of most urban cores was actually lower than the surrounding neighborhoods now. Why would it be any different here?

“Open your window.” Simon suggested. They had been sealed shut against the desert heat for hours. Justin complied, braced for the same hot winds he found emerging from the hatch outside the tower. Some fresh air might be nice though. The Window rolled down into the door and Justin felt no change. He stuck his hand outside the window. It was immediately blown back by the wind but he could feel the pleasant warmth outside. Not quite room temperature, but not the blistering heat of the southwest by a long shot.
“That’s about as hot as it gets here, and rarely more than ten degrees cooler. Even at the peak of the climate crisis, this place was a paradise. You can’t go far from here and find the same climate.”

“So people stayed in the city just for the outside temperature. But who goes outside anyway, as perfect as this seems, you can do better still with indoor climate control.”

“True, but generations here grew-up outside. Going to the beach, hiking, just sitting around, whatever. It’s a different lifestyle.”

“So what, do people still go out, go somewhere for work or school or whatever?” Justin asked.

“Oh no, not really. They stay home. They use their holorooms and video walls like anyone else. Well except the wealthy. For whatever reason, the rich want to actually go somewhere all the time.”

“What about all the cars?” Justin pointed to the jammed streets ahead. It seemed like every bit of road was in use, “It that all rich people going places?”

Simon chuckled, “There are an awful lot of rich people here, but not that many. No, people just like to get out and ride around.”

“You mean they don’t actually go anywhere?”

“Nope.”

“They just drive in circles for a while and take in the scenery?”

“Not even. They do what anyone else does in the car: read, watch videos, not a lot of looking out of the windows.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“Don’t ask me, I don’t live here. I think you have to be a resident to understand how they do things out here.”

Justin let it be and sat quiet for some time. Did Allison come out here? Did she see the same view and wonder about the traffic? He was somehow sure she did. There was a sense of deja vu, not that he had been here before, but the echo of someone else’s experience. It was not hard to picture Alison here, maybe she was here now. No, the news said she was in Japan now. He had no reason to doubt it, and yet he did. She probably wasn’t in Japan.

Maybe he thought she was too smart to flee to such a xenophobic place. How could one hide somewhere your mere existence is conspicuous. He knew better than to hide in a place like that, she probably would not either.

“So, what do we do from here?” Justin asked. He was ready to move on. A part of him wanted to learn more about LA. It was an odd place, an ugly paradise choked with people and cars. He would love to find out what made this place tick. How did people live here, what did they do? Yet he felt an urgency, a forward pressure.

“We’re not doing anything here except leaving.”

“Oh?” Were he and Simon growing connected in their thoughts and drives?

“Yeah, trust me, things are not so different in LA as they appear. No, we continue on, Westward my friend.”

“But isn’t the ocean directly west? What, are we catching a boat?”

“Eventually, not yet. We’ll continue by car for a while, courtesy of Links Corp.” Justin started. Did he mean Nesson? He head about it in the news and rumors about it from the net. But wasn’t the border sealed and the land in a succession crisis?

“But isn’t Nesson…”

“Nesson? Nesson is no different from the rest of the sprawl. What, do you think it’s filled with a bunch of rebels who are waiting for a couple of regular Americans to stroll in?”

“Well, why else would they still be there?”

“I doubt moving was an option, but most of them are probably oblivious of the conflict, or they don’t care.”

“I can’t imagine.”

“Just like you can’t imagine someone living a few miles from Neopolis and not knowing it exists?”

“Now that you mention it, no I can’t,” Justin smiled. He could joke about his own ignorance, but a prickling gray feeling was sneaking into his chest. A few weeks ago, he would have assumed he understood the world and how people lived. Now all he saw was fragmentation. Everything new he learned about the world diminished his old life; there was not much of it left.

To get updates on Nesson and my other works, follow me on twitter: @aanderson2323

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Nesson is an ad free serial fiction project. If you like what you have read, please leave a comment and share! If you’re feeling extra generous, donate to help me keep the story going and build this site!