CPU there? When did we think it was the Creator’s design to put millions of little robots into our blood to make us skinny or add muscle to our arms? If we aren’t careful, one day the unfaithful are going to wake up and discover that they are more machine than man and the Creator is going to pull the plug…”
Tar turned to Keisler.
“Is that Father Eli? He doesn’t look like that now.”
“None of us do,” the man said with a laugh. “That was almost fifteen years ago. We all have a little more snow on top of the roof.” He rubbed a hand over his gray hair.
Tar turned back to the television. Behind Father Eli a line of men all stood ramrod straight in their black and blue-colored uniforms. They sported the same style beard, cut in a straight line about three inches below their chins. A bald man directly behind Father Eli stared at the camera and Tar moved back without thinking. There was something about the man’s eyes that frightened him but he was too old to admit anything like that to Mr. Keisler. He scanned the others and stopped on the third guy to the bald man’s left. There was something familiar about him, the way he tilted his head when he peered to the left and rocked back on his heels when he looked straight ahead. Tar could not place the man before the screen switched back to the reporter.
“It was pretty bad back then, Tar.” Keisler turned off the DVR. “The country didn’t have enough money to do anything. It looked like we might have another Civil War and we had people like Father Eli jumping into the mix, saying we should go back a hundred years to the days of horses and plows. The Crash came three days later and damn near put us there.”
“Is that how Father Eli became leader?”
“More or less. There was a lot of confusion in the first few months after it all fell apart. A lot of people, key people in leadership positions, went hard boot. All the military had standard issue MentConn implants so they all died, along with the National Guard, police, and firefighters. Entire cities were nearly wiped out. San Francisco lost ninety-five percent of its population. Sunnyvale was so devastated it’s still deserted.
“But there was Father Eli with his Man’s Salvation Church. They had one of the few organizations still intact. They didn’t lose anyone because they didn’t use tech. With the Mind gone and no way for the people to vote Eli stepped in and took over for the government. They supplied food and set up hospitals so people went along because he was doing a lot of good things. But then, before we knew it, Father Eli was in charge of what used to be California, western Nevada, and southern Oregon. And his Black Shirts were everywhere.”
The lights dimmed, and then went back up to full strength.
“I’d better go,” Tar said as he rose to his feet. He walked to the doorway behind the bookcase and turned. “Good night, Mr. Keisler. See you tomorrow night?”
“That is okay with me as long as your uncle doesn’t mind.”
Tar smiled.
“Good. I want to find out why Jayne is wearing that stupid orange and yellow hat on the show.”
Chapter 9
Tar whistled as he walked down the sidewalk. He had traded a couple low-tech apps to a neighborhood shop owner for a couple bricks he knew he could fix later. He had also repaired a washing machine for his apartment building by rewiring the switch. It hadn’t required anything special, just the use of his hands like any regular person. It felt good to do that, plus everyone on the bottom floors who shared the machines would be grateful, and grateful meant he and his uncle ate better than usual for a little while.
Lost in his good mood as he headed toward the school he almost missed the whisper.
“Get down!” it hissed. “Black Shirts!”
Tar ducked into the dark of an alley as he heard the clop-clop of horses trotting down the street. He scurried behind an overflowing trash can and peered around its edge.
A
Tar turned to Keisler.
“Is that Father Eli? He doesn’t look like that now.”
“None of us do,” the man said with a laugh. “That was almost fifteen years ago. We all have a little more snow on top of the roof.” He rubbed a hand over his gray hair.
Tar turned back to the television. Behind Father Eli a line of men all stood ramrod straight in their black and blue-colored uniforms. They sported the same style beard, cut in a straight line about three inches below their chins. A bald man directly behind Father Eli stared at the camera and Tar moved back without thinking. There was something about the man’s eyes that frightened him but he was too old to admit anything like that to Mr. Keisler. He scanned the others and stopped on the third guy to the bald man’s left. There was something familiar about him, the way he tilted his head when he peered to the left and rocked back on his heels when he looked straight ahead. Tar could not place the man before the screen switched back to the reporter.
“It was pretty bad back then, Tar.” Keisler turned off the DVR. “The country didn’t have enough money to do anything. It looked like we might have another Civil War and we had people like Father Eli jumping into the mix, saying we should go back a hundred years to the days of horses and plows. The Crash came three days later and damn near put us there.”
“Is that how Father Eli became leader?”
“More or less. There was a lot of confusion in the first few months after it all fell apart. A lot of people, key people in leadership positions, went hard boot. All the military had standard issue MentConn implants so they all died, along with the National Guard, police, and firefighters. Entire cities were nearly wiped out. San Francisco lost ninety-five percent of its population. Sunnyvale was so devastated it’s still deserted.
“But there was Father Eli with his Man’s Salvation Church. They had one of the few organizations still intact. They didn’t lose anyone because they didn’t use tech. With the Mind gone and no way for the people to vote Eli stepped in and took over for the government. They supplied food and set up hospitals so people went along because he was doing a lot of good things. But then, before we knew it, Father Eli was in charge of what used to be California, western Nevada, and southern Oregon. And his Black Shirts were everywhere.”
The lights dimmed, and then went back up to full strength.
“I’d better go,” Tar said as he rose to his feet. He walked to the doorway behind the bookcase and turned. “Good night, Mr. Keisler. See you tomorrow night?”
“That is okay with me as long as your uncle doesn’t mind.”
Tar smiled.
“Good. I want to find out why Jayne is wearing that stupid orange and yellow hat on the show.”
Chapter 9
Tar whistled as he walked down the sidewalk. He had traded a couple low-tech apps to a neighborhood shop owner for a couple bricks he knew he could fix later. He had also repaired a washing machine for his apartment building by rewiring the switch. It hadn’t required anything special, just the use of his hands like any regular person. It felt good to do that, plus everyone on the bottom floors who shared the machines would be grateful, and grateful meant he and his uncle ate better than usual for a little while.
Lost in his good mood as he headed toward the school he almost missed the whisper.
“Get down!” it hissed. “Black Shirts!”
Tar ducked into the dark of an alley as he heard the clop-clop of horses trotting down the street. He scurried behind an overflowing trash can and peered around its edge.
A
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