Book FOUR: INTERRUPTED
“It’s
Johnny,” he said after some contemplation, watching Glyph cautiously.
“Johnny, huh?” said Glyph, tasting the syllables. “Got yourself an Old World name.”
“My parents were... nostalgic.”
“That what brings you out here with no goggles? Nostalgia?”
“No. They shorted out. Just for a second. And, well... I saw things.”
“And wondered why the sun didn’t waste you, right?”
Johnny nodded.
“I’ll tell you why,” said Glyph, poking the fire. “Coin Compton is a filthy fucking liar.”
“Shh,” said Johnny, his eyes darting around the woods. “It’s not wise to speak ill of Coin or Slipstream.”
“Ha! She and her daddy have been pulling the wool over our eyes far too long for me to talk about her like she’s a sweet little girl anymore.” Glyph spat.
Johnny looked away, into the woods. Dead limbs clawed at him. “I don’t understand,” he said. “How long has the world been like this? I thought Slipstream fixed everything.”
“The only thing Slipstream did was trick a whole lot of people out of their money. You know the story, right? About how Coin and Trinidad perfected a force field?”
Johnny nodded.
“Right. Well, that worked for a while. The force fields shielded everyone from the sun, but the light and heat were still too intense to live anywhere outside a cave or a hole in the ground. So Trinidad—who’s a God damn genius, by the way, no one’s going to argue that—invents these goggles. Crude versions of the ones we have today, yeah, but they saved millions of lives. Kept the sun out, broke the heat... pretty much everything humanity needed to become civilized again.
“A tough transition at first, but as soon as money started changing hands everyone seemed to remember what it meant to be a cultured human being.”
Johnny swallowed. He had never heard the history of the world told like this before.
“America was back on track. It didn’t take long for Slipstream to become the world’s greatest economic power. Trinidad was able to hire thousands to work on his inventions. So he worked. He created. Invention after invention after invention. Everything mankind had lost in the Solar Crisis was back--ten fold! All eyes were on him and his daughter.” Glyph said. He dug around in the earth for a bit until he found what he was looking for: a sprout. A tiny, leafy head pushing its way towards the darkening sky.
“But Earth always recovers.” he continued. “We may not—I mean, look how many millions the Crisis wiped out—but Earth always finds a way. The temperatures broke, the seas began to cool. By then Coin was a grown woman, her father more corpse than man. They knew if the world recovered their monopoly was over.” Glyph smiled, grim. “And who wants millions of dollars when you’ve got billions? So Slipstream announced a recall, bout twelve years back. You may remember it.”
“Vaguely,” said Johnny.
“The point of the recall was to make sure no one had any of the old model goggles. You see, old Mr. Compton had an idea. Why not issue goggles that do everything? Internet, environmental control, hell even your basic human functions. Why not basically hand them out for free? So he installed a holograph that alters the wearer’s vision of the environment.”
“Which means everything I’ve seen is just an image,” said Johnny, trying to wrap his head around it.
“Yup.” Said Glyph.
“Then how do you explain the way the world looks when I look out a window in my house? Or a public bus? No goggles on then.”
“Ah,” Glyph said, winking. “But who contracted your house? Designed the bus?”
“Slipstream,” whispered Johnny.
“Bingo. If people saw the world like this,” Glyph swept his hands around the dying trees. “they’d feel betrayed. They’d know that Slipstream’s been creating this world for decades and that all the comfort they’ve known is a lie.”
“It all boils down to money and power.”
“Hasn’t it always? History repeats, my friend.”
Johnny was quiet for a very long time, an intense ball of betrayal stirring in his chest. He wondered just how much of his life had been dictated by Slipstream—probably all of it. He knew his friends and family put Coin and her father above the word of the President, of God even.
“What are you gonna do?” Asked Glyph, shattering the silence.
“I dunno. Rally, riot... something.”
Glyph leaned on his haunches and grinned. “There’s a few more of us Awakened not far from here. With enough people we could really get some attention.”
“How many more?”
“Eight or so.”
Johnny thought. “My sister will come. Emeraldine. She trusts everything I say.”
"Anyone else?"
"No. There aren't many who would put my word above Compton's."
“You really gonna do this then? No shit? Cause if you wanna turn tail, I’m not gonna stop—”
“No,” hissed Johnny, silencing him. There was a fire in his eyes he was glad wasn’t obstructed by lenses. A fire in his soul that he was sure Glyph could feel too. “Time for the world to wake up.”
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Jump to...
BOOK ONE -- BOOK TWO -- BOOK THREE -- TRINIDAD
“Johnny, huh?” said Glyph, tasting the syllables. “Got yourself an Old World name.”
“My parents were... nostalgic.”
“That what brings you out here with no goggles? Nostalgia?”
“No. They shorted out. Just for a second. And, well... I saw things.”
“And wondered why the sun didn’t waste you, right?”
Johnny nodded.
“I’ll tell you why,” said Glyph, poking the fire. “Coin Compton is a filthy fucking liar.”
“Shh,” said Johnny, his eyes darting around the woods. “It’s not wise to speak ill of Coin or Slipstream.”
“Ha! She and her daddy have been pulling the wool over our eyes far too long for me to talk about her like she’s a sweet little girl anymore.” Glyph spat.
Johnny looked away, into the woods. Dead limbs clawed at him. “I don’t understand,” he said. “How long has the world been like this? I thought Slipstream fixed everything.”
“The only thing Slipstream did was trick a whole lot of people out of their money. You know the story, right? About how Coin and Trinidad perfected a force field?”
Johnny nodded.
“Right. Well, that worked for a while. The force fields shielded everyone from the sun, but the light and heat were still too intense to live anywhere outside a cave or a hole in the ground. So Trinidad—who’s a God damn genius, by the way, no one’s going to argue that—invents these goggles. Crude versions of the ones we have today, yeah, but they saved millions of lives. Kept the sun out, broke the heat... pretty much everything humanity needed to become civilized again.
“A tough transition at first, but as soon as money started changing hands everyone seemed to remember what it meant to be a cultured human being.”
Johnny swallowed. He had never heard the history of the world told like this before.
“America was back on track. It didn’t take long for Slipstream to become the world’s greatest economic power. Trinidad was able to hire thousands to work on his inventions. So he worked. He created. Invention after invention after invention. Everything mankind had lost in the Solar Crisis was back--ten fold! All eyes were on him and his daughter.” Glyph said. He dug around in the earth for a bit until he found what he was looking for: a sprout. A tiny, leafy head pushing its way towards the darkening sky.
“But Earth always recovers.” he continued. “We may not—I mean, look how many millions the Crisis wiped out—but Earth always finds a way. The temperatures broke, the seas began to cool. By then Coin was a grown woman, her father more corpse than man. They knew if the world recovered their monopoly was over.” Glyph smiled, grim. “And who wants millions of dollars when you’ve got billions? So Slipstream announced a recall, bout twelve years back. You may remember it.”
“Vaguely,” said Johnny.
“The point of the recall was to make sure no one had any of the old model goggles. You see, old Mr. Compton had an idea. Why not issue goggles that do everything? Internet, environmental control, hell even your basic human functions. Why not basically hand them out for free? So he installed a holograph that alters the wearer’s vision of the environment.”
“Which means everything I’ve seen is just an image,” said Johnny, trying to wrap his head around it.
“Yup.” Said Glyph.
“Then how do you explain the way the world looks when I look out a window in my house? Or a public bus? No goggles on then.”
“Ah,” Glyph said, winking. “But who contracted your house? Designed the bus?”
“Slipstream,” whispered Johnny.
“Bingo. If people saw the world like this,” Glyph swept his hands around the dying trees. “they’d feel betrayed. They’d know that Slipstream’s been creating this world for decades and that all the comfort they’ve known is a lie.”
“It all boils down to money and power.”
“Hasn’t it always? History repeats, my friend.”
Johnny was quiet for a very long time, an intense ball of betrayal stirring in his chest. He wondered just how much of his life had been dictated by Slipstream—probably all of it. He knew his friends and family put Coin and her father above the word of the President, of God even.
“What are you gonna do?” Asked Glyph, shattering the silence.
“I dunno. Rally, riot... something.”
Glyph leaned on his haunches and grinned. “There’s a few more of us Awakened not far from here. With enough people we could really get some attention.”
“How many more?”
“Eight or so.”
Johnny thought. “My sister will come. Emeraldine. She trusts everything I say.”
"Anyone else?"
"No. There aren't many who would put my word above Compton's."
“You really gonna do this then? No shit? Cause if you wanna turn tail, I’m not gonna stop—”
“No,” hissed Johnny, silencing him. There was a fire in his eyes he was glad wasn’t obstructed by lenses. A fire in his soul that he was sure Glyph could feel too. “Time for the world to wake up.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jump to...
BOOK ONE -- BOOK TWO -- BOOK THREE -- TRINIDAD