enforcer in the country. They were supposedly wanted for conspiring and aiding in the release of the plague. The incredible audacity of that lie was almost invisible when compared to the vast fabric of lies that supported this insane new world.
After miles of traffic congestion, they had finally reached and were driving past one of three fortified entrances to Chicago called an entry portal. Sarah removed her sunglasses and stared. The wall of roto-gates had long lines of people queued up to enter, as if Chicago had become some kind of dystopian Disneyland. Private vehicle were not allowed inside the city. You had to walk in under your own power and bring only what you could carry. Once inside, you’d likely never want to leave except for travel between protectorates on nonstop trains or aircraft. To the right of the portal was an Amtrak station that had service between protectorates as well as Outland cross country routes. To the left of the roto-gates was a windowless building that looked like a prison with a sign that read Entry Visas . Heavily armed soldiers with dogs patrolled everywhere. Several Peacekeeper Strykers were parked nearby. No one paid Sarah and Mark any attention as they inched past. Beyond the gates was an electrified fence and a quarter mile of ground that had been bulldozed flat. This killing field was the main barrier that separated the chaos of the Outlands from the order of the protectorate. Sarah knew that desolate tract of nothing was guarded day and night by armed military Argus surveillance drones, which flew too high to be seen or heard until one of their missiles found its prey. She had a disturbing premonition staring at that skyline. Chicago was thriving and rising out of a burial ground for desperate people out of hope.
“A year ago I wouldn’t have believed anyone who told me our government had created a monster like that,” said Mark.
“One big happy police state,” said Sarah. “Looks all too familiar to me. This is just a bigger version of the Virginia quarantine line I patrolled. Same barbed wire. Same trickle down corruption. Same shantytown on the wrong side of the line.”
“It’s hard to imagine you as a cop,” said Mark.
“You’d have liked the uniform.”
Sarah absentmindedly pulled her Morristown badge and police ID from her ankle length coat. The leather folio was new and unblemished. She’d thrown away her Virginia badge along with all the terrible memories. She ran her fingers over the polished metal of her Morristown badge. It was a talisman of a lost world.
They had driven far enough past the entry portal that the shantytown carnival was drying up into abandoned buildings and lots. They were almost to the roadhouse where they were meeting a dealer in forged documents named Ike. The first step of their plan was to enter the protectorate using the forged electronic identity kits Ike was selling them. Last year, the days surrounding the Eve of Darkness were some of the highest traffic days for protectorates around the country. This year looked like a repeat. The heavy foot traffic would make it safer for Mark and Sarah going through entry portal security. Hours from now they would finally be close enough to the singularity to touch it.
Sarah felt a nervousness gnawing inside her gut. She looked over at Mark and was bathed in uncensored emotions radiating over the n-web from him. He glanced at her, then returned to driving. She knew this was a man who could never give up. Something small, yet critical, had changed inside both of them months ago when they’d first sensed those weak currents in the n-web that had been the birth pangs of the singularity. It was as if a program deep within their nanotech brains had been triggered by those currents. Was it a digital virus, the will of the god-machine, or something organic? Whatever the mechanics, that pinprick was the beginning of a growing primitive impulse that now urged them onward. The attraction to the
After miles of traffic congestion, they had finally reached and were driving past one of three fortified entrances to Chicago called an entry portal. Sarah removed her sunglasses and stared. The wall of roto-gates had long lines of people queued up to enter, as if Chicago had become some kind of dystopian Disneyland. Private vehicle were not allowed inside the city. You had to walk in under your own power and bring only what you could carry. Once inside, you’d likely never want to leave except for travel between protectorates on nonstop trains or aircraft. To the right of the portal was an Amtrak station that had service between protectorates as well as Outland cross country routes. To the left of the roto-gates was a windowless building that looked like a prison with a sign that read Entry Visas . Heavily armed soldiers with dogs patrolled everywhere. Several Peacekeeper Strykers were parked nearby. No one paid Sarah and Mark any attention as they inched past. Beyond the gates was an electrified fence and a quarter mile of ground that had been bulldozed flat. This killing field was the main barrier that separated the chaos of the Outlands from the order of the protectorate. Sarah knew that desolate tract of nothing was guarded day and night by armed military Argus surveillance drones, which flew too high to be seen or heard until one of their missiles found its prey. She had a disturbing premonition staring at that skyline. Chicago was thriving and rising out of a burial ground for desperate people out of hope.
“A year ago I wouldn’t have believed anyone who told me our government had created a monster like that,” said Mark.
“One big happy police state,” said Sarah. “Looks all too familiar to me. This is just a bigger version of the Virginia quarantine line I patrolled. Same barbed wire. Same trickle down corruption. Same shantytown on the wrong side of the line.”
“It’s hard to imagine you as a cop,” said Mark.
“You’d have liked the uniform.”
Sarah absentmindedly pulled her Morristown badge and police ID from her ankle length coat. The leather folio was new and unblemished. She’d thrown away her Virginia badge along with all the terrible memories. She ran her fingers over the polished metal of her Morristown badge. It was a talisman of a lost world.
They had driven far enough past the entry portal that the shantytown carnival was drying up into abandoned buildings and lots. They were almost to the roadhouse where they were meeting a dealer in forged documents named Ike. The first step of their plan was to enter the protectorate using the forged electronic identity kits Ike was selling them. Last year, the days surrounding the Eve of Darkness were some of the highest traffic days for protectorates around the country. This year looked like a repeat. The heavy foot traffic would make it safer for Mark and Sarah going through entry portal security. Hours from now they would finally be close enough to the singularity to touch it.
Sarah felt a nervousness gnawing inside her gut. She looked over at Mark and was bathed in uncensored emotions radiating over the n-web from him. He glanced at her, then returned to driving. She knew this was a man who could never give up. Something small, yet critical, had changed inside both of them months ago when they’d first sensed those weak currents in the n-web that had been the birth pangs of the singularity. It was as if a program deep within their nanotech brains had been triggered by those currents. Was it a digital virus, the will of the god-machine, or something organic? Whatever the mechanics, that pinprick was the beginning of a growing primitive impulse that now urged them onward. The attraction to the
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