Unplugged

 A Soft Scifi written for the final round of the SciFi Smackdown 1.5. 

Hope your thoughts are provoked and your senses are delighted ;) 

As always, would love to hear your thoughts!

Happy Reading!

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Unplugged

“Hey, watch it!” The man grumbled, stepping away. He quickly scanned my features, looking but not. 

He was using his Scroll.

Disgust flashed across his face; he turned his attention back to the line. I didn’t blame him.

My coat was dirty, my hair separating in honey-colored strings around my face. The showers in the center had been crowded last night. By my turn the choices were a cold wash or nothing. I opted to go without.

But that look. That look was more than just fear of having his pristine suit jacket soiled.

As soon as he saw me with his glazed-over eyes, he identified me as an unplugged—one who by choice or necessity had decided to go without the newest craze. Three years since the Scroll’s debut, the former were becoming more difficult to find.

In the last statistics, half of Americans over the age of sixteen had been plugged-in, ninety percent of the upper echelon alone. It was an instant status symbol. It was no longer enough to have the world at your fingertips; no, now it had to be a part of you.

Someone walking down the street could distinguish the owner of a Scroll from an unplugged by a small circle at the corner of their right eye. When it was running, the circle glowed a faint, incandescent green.

I did not have that circle.

The crowd in the streets went to extreme measures to avoid my eyes. They were here for the update. Scroll had just released its newest version: the S3. They walked in, paid their cash, and walked out a more productive, plugged-in member of society.

I put my head down, walking around—between the crowd and the medical personnel who were hanging around in case someone’s update didn’t go as planned.

I would have avoided them altogether if possible. However, the center where I last stayed was out for the night. There weren’t enough cots and it wasn’t cold enough for them to double occupancy. So, it was another night on the streets. My usual spot was a few blocks past the whitewashed storefront.

A bitter blast of wind caused me to pull my coat tighter. Pulling up my hood, I ducked and quickened my pace. It’s going to be a cold one tonight. A few long strides brought me around the corner into the already darkening alleyway.

Hair fell into my face. I reached up to push it back behind my ear and suddenly hit something solid mid-stride.

I bounced to the concrete, scraping my hands across the rough surface. I rubbed them together, trying to loosen the dirt and rocks from my skin. Someone grabbed the front of my jacket and hauled me, off-balanced, to my feet.

Rancid, hot breath spread over my face. Without thinking, I flinched.

“What do you think you’re…” two beady eyes squinted at me, causing the faint green light of his Scroll to distort. He brought one half-gloved hand to my hood and jerked it back. “Look what we have here, Andre. A lassie.”

Someone sighed further down. The wind stopped, and the smell of clove cigarettes tickled my nose. Andre looked over his friend’s shoulder. “She’s dirty, Hal.” He turned his head and exhaled. A bright green light made me blink. Someone had placed it too close to the surface of his skin. Must have been an underground job. The thought turned my stomach, but my body stayed still.

“Yeah, but that can be fixed.” He smiled at me, yellowed teeth glinting under the light of his Scroll.  He moved his cold, hard nose towards the side of my face, “You scared love? That’s good. They like them scared.” He moved back again taking in my features, “She’s blonde. We haven’t had a blonde one to sell in a while. They would pay…”

As soon as he said sell, my adrenaline surged. Never moving my eyes, I lifted my boot and brought it down hard on his foot.

He let go in surprise and pain, cursing.

I didn’t stick around to hear.

I ran.  

Three more steps… two…

Suddenly, my head jerked to a stop as my feet kept going. I landed on my back with a thud, the air wooshing from my lungs. The same hands that had grabbed my hood pulled me to my feet, slamming me roughly against the wall.

“Oh, that was a nice try, lass,” Hal hissed as he jammed my arms behind my back, “but you can’t get away that easily.” He leaned his head into my neck, grinding my face into the brick behind me. 

Andre laughed, humorlessly. “Do your thing, and let’s get outta here.” He threw down his cigarette and started towards the dark street.

I shifted back and forth, trying to free my arms, but he was too heavy. In trying to get them free, I was only scraping them harder against the wall.

Hal started wedging his leg between my thighs. My body betrayed me; my breath caught.

I could feel his cheek move up in a smile, “Yeah, baby. You just remember…”

I brought my knee up with as much force as I could. Even though there wasn’t much room for leverage, I connected well enough that he let go.

Sliding out from under him, I took off only to be jerked back again by my arm. I hit the wall at the same time he slapped me across the face with his large hand. My vision erupted in bursts of bright light.  

“Bad mistake,” he hissed, and barred my across the chest with a thick arm. “You will play nice, or we will do this until we do.” Despite my efforts to get free, he reached his arm inside my coat. Without giving it a second thought I turned my head, latching on to his face with my teeth. He roared in pain, “Why you little…” he brought his head forward, slamming it against mine.

The world started to go dark. My body limp.

My captor gave a sharp intake of breath, and let go.

I must look pretty bad, I thought. I laughed as I slid towards the cold floor.

Hal was lying in front of me, lifeless eyes staring above my head.

My vision grew darker.

A pair of black patent leather shoes stepped into the edge of my sight. A tanned hand reached down and closed Hal’s eyes, before reaching over to my own. I flinched. “Shh, go to sleep,” he said.

My eyes obeyed. My vision went dark. I slept.

______________________

My eyelids felt like sandpaper. My whole body ached, the sharpest pricks of pain radiating through my arms and my face. I turned my head and let out an involuntary groan. Scratch the previous statement. My head felt like someone had beaten me with a baseball bat.

“Your head?” I jerked my head towards the deep voice. My hands brushed the thin blanket laid across my body. He had put me on his couch. Without my coat and shoes.

He was standing over a stovetop in the adjoining kitchen. His dark skin contrasted sharply against the pale walls of the apartment. Holding a kettle in one hand, he was looking at me with eyebrows raised.

I met his gaze. “Hurts,” I said.

He huffed and walked around the bar with a tray, sitting it on the black table in front of me. A bowl of soup steamed with bread, cheese, and the kettle beside it. Making no effort towards the tray, he gestured towards it. “Eat,” he said. “But slowly.”

My stomach growled in response. I picked up the bread and soaked it in the broth.

The man sat down across from me in a sleek, dark chair. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his fitted shirt strained against his chest. “What is your name?” he asked. A slight accent laced his words.

I narrowed my eyes in his direction. Unfazed, he returned the stare from below two thick eyebrows. Everything about him was a different shade of dark, and not only did that make him stand out against the modern decor, but it took all of two seconds to ID him as an unplugged. My heart slowed instantly.

“I’m Cadie,” I said, picking up the tea. There were two glasses; I poured them both and pushed one towards him. “And you are?”

He accepted reached down for the tea, “Abhi.”

I tested it on my tongue, “Abhi?” He nodded once. “Thank you for your generosity, Abhi. How long have I been here?”

He answered quickly; as if he knew the question I was going to ask. “Almost four hours. It is close to midnight.           

That would make it hard to find a place to sleep. I looked out the window and only saw trees. We were a good ways south of the city, if the grounds were any indication.

“You will stay here.” I flinched as he answered the questions rolling through my mind. In response, he smiled a grim smile, and began to clean up the tray of food. “If you did not want me to hear, you should not make it so easy.”

I froze, chills broke out on my skin.

Abhi walked into the kitchen and began to rinse the plates. It was as if he had commented on the weather. I rushed to organize my thoughts, my forehead crunched in confusion. “Are you saying you can hear what I’m thinking?” He shrugged from behind the counter, but didn’t answer. “You don’t think that’s,” I searched for a more appropriate word then gave up. “...weird?”

Abhi dried his hands on a towel and reached for the kettle. “You project.”

“So it’s my fault you can hear my thoughts?” I asked, incredulously.

“Not your fault, exactly. But I will teach you to control that.” He stopped at a shelf, grabbed a book, and put it on the tray with the tea. “The washroom is the first door on the right. There you will find everything you need, as well as clothes in the adjoining room. If you do not find them to your satisfaction, tell me tomorrow and we will get more. Breakfast is usually served at six, but since it is so late, tomorrow it will be at seven. I expect you to be there. Any questions?”

Stunned, I only looked at him.

I hastily shook my head. “You mean you want me to stay? Here?” I gestured around at the pristine furnishings of a bachelor who was doing well for himself.

He crossed his arms, his face expressionless. “I thought I made that clear.”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then narrowed. “Why?”

“I do not want a companion, or sex for that matter. I have looked long and hard for one unaffected by modern technology. It has been my observation that you have never had a Scroll, is that correct?” I nodded. “Good. Cadie, I am offering you a position as my student. If you decide to accept, you will have a place to stay, food to eat, and no obligations except to me. I have saved your life, bandaged your wounds, and fed you while providing you with a safe place to stay. You owe me in three ways, and am offering not only to absolve that debt in its entirety, but also offer you an education beyond what anyone can give you. You will never be hungry again. You will never want. Those reasons alone should make you consider; you would be a fool not to take me up on it.”

Awestruck, I said the first thing that came to my mind before Abhi answered it without my permission. “What would you be teaching me?”

“For starters, to block your thoughts. If they are invading my head all day, you will not be my student for long.” He was still standing still as a tree, arms crossed across his chest.

I held out my hand as an invitation to proceed.

“How to listen to other thoughts. Then how to control them, interject your own, how to create critical thought to see bounds beyond the view of others. How to tap into all aspects of yourself--your body, your soul, and all of your mind.”  Maybe even this.

I could have sworn his lips stopped moving before the thought was complete. I held up his hand to stop him as he opened his mouth to answer.

“If I don’t accept?”

“You let me know in the morning. But know this,” his turned face serious again, “You owe me a large debt, and I always collect.”

I met his eyes and saw how serious he was. I waited a beat, “If I say yes?”

“Then we start in the morning, and you need to read that.” He pointed to the book on the tray with his chin. Curious, I picked it up.

Manuscripts of 1844?” I huffed, a smile of dismay spreading across my face. “Not the Communist Manifesto? This isn’t exactly one of Marx’s most famous works.”

Abhi nodded his head in approval, “No, but I don’t care for you to know about capitalism. If I cared, I would have given you excerpts from Reasons in Revolt.

“That’s not Marx,” I said.

“And that’s not the point,” Abhi countered.

I picked up the book, and flipped through it. It was at least 200 pages long. It had been a while since I read a book that fast. It had been a while since I read a book.

Abhi’s dark eyes were burning into me from across the room. I looked up, only to think of him reading my thoughts. Unblinking, I moved my thoughts to a deeper place in my mind without breaking our stare.

Abhi’s mouth tipped; it was gone as quick as it came. You will be a quick study, Cadie. It will be ...interesting. He did not move his mouth, but still I heard him clear as day.

He turned his back to me, and without even a good night left me with some serious decisions.

The first one was easy. I could really use a good shower.

_______________

I could see streams of bright light streaking across the floor as I rounded the corner somewhat hesitantly. Everything Abhi had said about my accommodations was true. I was clean, comfortably dressed in yoga pants, shoes and a tee, moments away from being well fed, and shockingly sprite for someone who had stayed up all hours of the night trying to digest Marx’s Manuscripts.

Surprisingly, it had not been that difficult. My body and mind seemed to rise to the challenge Abhi set. After much deliberation I decided to accept his offer to teach me, as I did not have anything to lose.

I know now that wasn’t true.

Hindsight is, after all, twenty-twenty.

Abhi was sitting at a small, white table in the kitchen, fork and knife crossed on top of his clean plate, newspaper folded neatly beside it. In his hands was an old, brown book. I could not see the title.

He turned a yellowed page. “What did you decide?” he asked, not looking up.

My hand stopped on the back of the chair. I cocked my head to one side, “Good morning, Abhi. I hope you slept well.”

Putting his book in his lap, he brought his dark eyes up to mine. “Assuming that you realize how unattractive sarcasm makes a person, I will take it that I did not speak loud enough for you to hear, and you are simply implying as to my comfort last night. In that case,” he cleared his throat, “I slept well, Cadie. I hope you can say the same. Thank you. Now, what did you decide?”

I watched him intently, noticing how his face never betrayed an ounce of emotion. We stared at each other for one moment then another.

“Don’t you know what I have decided already? Can’t you just pick it out of my brain like you did last night?”

The expression on his face never changed. I wondered then what life would be like if there were never any surprises—you always knew what someone was going to say, going to do. How long would it be before my face looked like Abhi’s?

He blinked, the corner of his mouth tipped, and I blushed as I realized that he must have heard all that. My face burned red, Abhi pretended not to notice. He set the book on the table. “When it comes to decisions, I would rather the person speak the answer aloud so there is no confusion down the road. I would hate it if sometime in the future you accused me of forcing you into my tutelage.”

The tone he used made it obvious that Abhi did not give a flip if that happened to be the case. For one brief moment, I reconsidered. Was this really something I was up to? Did I really want to get myself tied up with someone I barely knew and wasn’t sure I even liked?

These were some of the thoughts I was bouncing around when, suddenly, my adrenaline spiked.

I can do this. Nothing can stop me.

“I can do this,” I said. “I would like to be your student.”

He gave a brisk nod, “Sit. You will need to eat.” My stomach tightened in response to the eggs and toast I loaded on my plate. We sat in silence, me eating and Abhi watching.

It wasn’t silent for him, though, was it? His brain was probably filled with my thoughts at this very moment. I bit my lip in concentration, burying my mind’s busy chatter into deeper folds. Abhi let out a deep sigh. I jerked my head up in surprise.

“It only took you,” he looked down at his watch, “twenty-one minutes to be considerate. Hopefully I can count on you go about it more speedily in the future.” I opened my mouth to respond, but Abhi cut me off. “What did you think of the Manuscripts?”

The question caught me off guard. Scrambling to get my thoughts in order, I gave my head a quick shake. “I agree that money should not be used as a commodity, but as a bartering too, and…”

Abhi tilted his head slightly to the side, lifting his eyebrows. I was beginning to think of it as his trademark move. The thought distracted me from answering his question.

“Is that all?”

“Um…”

Um is not an acceptable response. You will do well to strike it from your vocabulary.”

I looked at him, anger boiling under my skin.

If you would just give me a minute…

I gave you all night.

I jumped. “Stop that.” He continued only to look at me, so I continued. “I think he predicted the current state of our country almost two hundred years ago based on history, economic trends, and a bit of common sense.”

“You said state of our country. Why?”

My lips pursed together in thought. “Because it’s more than a simple economic status. It is the way of where we live, and with globalization, the eventual way of the world. Everything we do is based on money as a commodity. We buy, sell and trade it everyday.  Not only that, but I do not think it has been seen as a bartering tool,” I bent my fingers in the air, “in ages. We live in the most perplexing capitalist society history has ever seen, and that is only a small part of it.”

Abhi’s face gave no hint of whether I had insulted or impressed the hell out of him. I was about to continue when he spoke. “Do you have a hair tie?”

My head bobbed back in surprise, “Wh… Excuse me?”

He gestured towards the loose hair hanging over my shoulder. “A hair tie. We are going for a run. It will need to be pulled back. If you do not have one, there should be some in the bathroom.” He got up and started to clear the table. Apparently I had been dismissed.

When I came back, Abhi motioned for me to follow down the stairs and outside where we began our stretches. I hadn’t moved the ways he was insisting my body go in years. Then, we started on our jog. It was a three-mile trail run through the woods at the back of his house. Afterwards, we stretched out and continued with an hour of balance and stretching yoga, showered and ate a light lunch. I could have easily fallen into my soup at the table. My body was a giant noodle, exhausted. Quite frankly, I was looking forward to a nice, long afternoon nap. Mindlessly sipping my soup, anticipating my bed, I jumped in the air when Abhi threw a book on the table from behind me.

I turned a nasty look his way before picking it up. “Journal of Social Psychology?” I asked incredulously. “A Collection? What is this?”

“That,” Abhi said, blowing on a cup of tea at the counter, “is your assignment for today. Dinner is at five. Be ready to discuss it.”

My eyes widened in disbelief. I flipped through the pages. “Abhi, there’s got to be over two-hundred pages here. Of scientific studies.”

He reached for the kettle. “You’d better get to reading, then.”

_______________

Five o’clock found me rubbing my eyes on the floor of Abhi’s living room. I was sitting up against the couch with the journals open next to a dictionary. A pile of legal pads with various scribbles on them were scattered around me.

Abhi walked through the kitchen, dressed again in business attire. After lunch, he had dressed and gone out, leaving me with free reign of the house and nothing to do but sift my way through the beefy content of the world’s greatest minds. What a teacher, I thought. Gives me a book and leaves.

Abhi opened the door to the oven, “Would you rather me hand you the answers? What use is there in an answer that you did not have to work for?”

I was too tired to be properly angry. But, “You’re doing it again.”

“So are you. Bury your thoughts. If you open yourself to me, expect me to take advantage.”

I tilted my head at the double meaning but shook it off, sending my thoughts deeper. It was harder this time. Exhaustion was wearing on my brain.

“That is the point. Make it second nature. Go.”

I sighed part frustration, part exasperation with the mysterious, demanding man in the kitchen. I turned back to my work, piling it in neat piles, and headed to the kitchen.

“What can I do?” I asked, washing my hands.

Abhi raised his eyebrows at me, “The salad is in the crisper. You can also put out the plates.”

I did as he asked, grabbed a few waters from the fridge, and joined him at the table. Whatever he’d fixed smelled wonderful and my stomach clenched in anticipation.

Abhi held out his hand for my plate and began to load it with chicken curry. “So, what did you learn today?”

I loaded my fork. “Where do you want me to start? It isn’t like there was any pertinent information in the articles.”

He didn’t look up, “Sarcasm is what stupid people resort to when they have run out of intelligent things to say.”

I shrugged. “The question still stands.”

He put down his fork and laid both hands slowly to his lap. “Please, Cadie, start with whatever you have deemed the most important of everything you read and have deemed worth conversation.”

“I thought only stupid people used sarcasm.”

“I thought you may be more comfortable if I spoke on your level.”

Anger shot through my body in a sharp, hot blaze. I saw Abhi blink hard and only then remembered to keep my thoughts buried. I reined in my emotions, meeting his eyes. “The question still stands,” he said.

I took a deep breath, and shoveled some rice into my mouth before answering. “Well, there was a lot of information. However, I think it can be boiled down to a few key points.” I stopped to sip my water. “First of all, the vast majority of the world does not use all of their brain. That’s simplifying it of course. But apparently, there is a sleeping part of the brain.”

Abhi raised his eyebrows, “Apparently? Does that mean you’re not sure?”

I thought about it for a second, “I wouldn’t rule it out, but no, I’m not completely convinced.”

A sharp pain lit through my head. I ducked into my hands, trying to catch my breath, “What… Abhi… what?”

“Find the place your mind sleeps, Cadie.”

“Abhi, I can’t. Stop…” sweat broke out across my brow. “Abhi, STOP!”

His voice stayed level, calm. “If you have the strength to scream, you have the strength to bury your thoughts. Go.”

The pain in my head intensified. I stood up, only to hit my knees seconds later. The sound of my chair hitting the slate echoed through the kitchen.

I groaned.

“Get there, Cadie. Pull back.”

I took a slow, deep breath, pushing the pain forward. My mind split into parts: one where the pain throbbed in sharp pulses along with my heartbeat, the other was separate—as if I was watching what was going on from a distance.

Slowly, I began to siphon the side racked with pain into the other. Minute by minute, the pain receded until all that was left was an echo of what Abhi had done to me. I looked up at him crouched beside me.

“Lesson one: the sleeping brain is real,” he said.

I sent my right arm sailing through the air in his direction. Quick as a flash, Abhi grabbed my hand, gave a quick twist, and jerked up. I stood on my toes to leverage the pull. He pulled me back then pushed, causing my to lose my balance and hit my thigh on the bar.

While trying to rub out the Charlie horse, Abhi spoke, “Go get your shoes and meet me back in five. Put on appropriate wear, we’re going to be working on your hand-to-hand.

I looked back at him then turned towards my room. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“It isn’t a choice, Cadie. You have five minutes.”

“Or what?” I asked turning back towards him, hands out. “You do that again? Tough shit, Abhi. You just lost your student.”

Suddenly, there was pressure in the front of my mind, like fingers prodding at my grey matter.

My face flamed; I jerked back around.

He laughed. It was odd seeing his usually stoic face pierced by humor. His white teeth stood out against the brown of his face.

Once the shock passed, I remembered my anger. “What?”

He stopped, rubbing his hands through his hair, making the pieces stand on end.

“Congratulations, you’re a quick study. Go get dressed.”

Excuse me?”

The laughter was gone as quickly as it came, “Go. Get. Dressed.” He looked at his watch. “You have four minutes.”

I shook my head. “Abhi, I don’t think you understand. I am not your student. Not anymore.”

He crossed his arms, the white button-up tight across his chest. “Cadie,” he said. “I don’t think you understand. You do not have a choice.”

My eyes widened, I took a small step back.

Abhi held out his hand and started ticking off fingers, “You have nowhere to go. In a world that is dominated by technology, those who shun it get left behind. Unless you are me, or do what I do, that is. Therefore,” the second finger, “you need me to teach you what I know so you can live a life that does not consist of crowded shelters and cardboard boxes.” Three, “I have clothed you, fed you, and taken care of your wounds. In three ways you owe me, and I collect on my debts. If you think this is harsh, you haven’t seen anything yet.” Number four, “I have never met anyone who managed the block so quickly, and maintained it through their anger.” He put his hands down, “I refuse to let that talent go to waste; and I will decide when you get to leave.”

Clearing my face of all emotion, I buried my thoughts deep in my mind. Everything Abhi said rang true. I didn’t have anywhere to go, and even if I did, I could not make an honest living without the Scroll. If I kept up my guard, Abhi wouldn’t be able to get in without my permission and I was interested in what he had to teach me. But at what cost? Was it worth it?

I rubbed my nose, and took a deep breath. “Three things,” Abhi considered this for a moment then nodded. “One, no more pain. I get the point you had to prove. Consider it proven. There are other ways to check my block that don’t fry my brain in the process. Two, no ultimatums. To say I don’t do well with them is an understatement.” I looked at him eyebrows raised.

“Yes?”

“When would you let me go? Under what terms?”

Beat. “When you no longer prove useful.”

“So, if you break me?”

He shook his head, “If you allow yourself to get broken.” He looked at his watch, “Three minutes. Make sure you pull back your hair.”

_________

For hours that night we sparred. Kick. Punch. Throw. Repeat. Utterly drained, I started towards my room when Abhi informed me that he would be expecting a five-page paper on the importance of critical thinking based off my readings at breakfast. I groaned, but showed up in the morning with the pages, cited and all.

Things slowly settled into a routine. After breakfast, we would go for a run. Abhi gradually upped our mileage. I didn’t mind. My body firmed. I was no longer a slave to side cramps or a tightened chest. More so, because of the regimen Abhi had me on, my mind was forming walls of steel. If I so desired, I could have convinced my body that it could continue at no cost. Everything we did required intense concentration. At first it was difficult, but overtime it was second nature. I knew Abhi was pleased with my progress though he never spoke of it.

After running was lunch and after lunch he gave me my assignment for the day—reading, meditation, mind tricks—he then would dress in his business wear and leave until dinner when he would question me relentlessly on what I had discovered that day. Then, we would spar.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

My sleeping brain was waking up.

Two weeks into my lessons with Abhi and I was effectively blocking him out at all times, unconsciously. Three weeks had me sending images. Four and we were communicating through mind-speech only.

Sometime in the second month, Abhi surprised me by asking me to get dressed after lunch. We were going to the city.

"Why?" I asked. My voice sounded funny. Scratchy.

Abhi just looked at me. "Because you are ready," he said.

We got to the city when Abhi took me, not into one of the glass front buildings, but into a crowded coffee shop.

We got in line behind a man dressed much like Abhi except that he had a briefcase and a Scroll. He was muttering into it while blinking and touching the air in seemingly random movements in front of him. Needless to say, he was paying us very little attention.

Abhi leaned in close to my ear, "Talk to him."

That surprised me. "What? Why?"

Like this, he prompted in my mind.

You mean I can do that?

He nodded, the corner of his mouth tipped upward.

I looked at the back the man's head.

Hello.

He twitched. I looked sideways at Abhi, eyes wide, then turned forward again.

Hello, sir. What can I get for you today?

The light of his Scroll dimmed, and he started to place his drink order only to realize that there were still people between him and the barista.

The look on his face made me let out an uncontrollable giggle that quickly turned into a cough when he glanced back in our direction.

That was funny. He looks familiar. Do we know him?

Now try an image, Abhi interrupted.

Like what? Pause. Oh, I see.

For the rest of the afternoon, I placed images and thoughts into the minds of those around us under the careful guidance of my teacher. At the end of the day, he showed me how to access the Scroll. With a bit of effort, I could manipulate anyone’s device so that if I so wanted I too could be connected.

I could access it all their information.

It was all at my fingertips, waiting.  

From then on out, we would go into the city at least once a week on top of our schedule back at home.

Through my studies, I slowly came to the conclusion that technology, including the Scroll were ways to increase an individual’s wage labor, thus making a commodity out of themselves.

Abhi and I were discussing it via mind-speech one afternoon while he was on his way back from the city. When I expressed my surprise at being able to communicate over so many miles, he informed me that as I could do it with any brain that I was familiar with if I tried.

So I tried.

He was right.

It was the most exhilarating and terrifying thing I had ever experienced. My opinion of it all changed from one day to the next.

It took one afternoon to change that.

____________

I was meditating in the living room—my assignment for the afternoon. Usually I wouldn’t have noticed the silence or any other small nuance tickling my senses. But today, I was having trouble concentrating. It was if the stimuli around me were doing more than touching my fingers, my nose, my ears, they were also brushing my mind.

It took me back to a few months ago when Abhi forced me to raise my shields. When he had tried to attack again, it felt like someone prodding in my head.

This was what I was feeling.

I let my block down a fraction of an inch and pain lit through my mind like a white-hot poker. I slammed my shields back up 

I had no idea what was going on, and wasn't anymore comforted when Abhi literally stumbled through the door.

He was disheveled—a state I had never seen him in. His shirt was half tucked in, sleeves rolled up, dirt smeared across his face and hands. Panic was written across his face.

"Abhi!" I said, running towards the kitchen. "What's..."

He pushed past me and down the hall; I took off after him.

He busted through the door of his bedroom, running towards a dark wood roll top deck. Frantically, he began digging through documents--spilling them into the floor, yanking open the drawers and slamming them shut.

"Abhi, what are you..."

He held up a hand to silent me, not stopping his search. Finally he found what he was looking for: a newspaper. He ran his hand through his hair, folded it back and shoved it in my direction.

He pointed at a picture of a man on the front of the financial section. "Him," he started and then groaned, clutching his head.

I looked quickly towards the picture and back at Abhi. "What about him?" I looked down, realization blooming. "It's the man from the coffee shop."

"Yes, Brian Watts. I need you to get inside his head. Arrrghhh!"

“Brian Watts? You mean the same Brian Watts who invented the Scroll?”

Abhi nodded then started frantically rubbing at his head. "I want you to shut down his Scroll."

I stared at him in amazement.

"Did you not hear me?! SHUT DOWN HIS SCROLL! NOW!"

I scrambled for a safe place in my mind and concentrated on Watts. It did not take me long to find him, however, it was more difficult than usual to insert myself into his mind. Eventually I made it in only to realize I did not know how to shut it down. In my calmest tone, I let Abhi know.

"It's simple. Concentrate on shutting it down. It will fight you, but will eventually fold. It is as simple as that," he doubled over.

I searched for the link again and began to push my will towards it.

Shut down. Turn off. Shut down.

Shut down. Turn off. Shut...

"Cadie..." Abhi warned. "Faster. Get in and out."

I sped up my thoughts, pushing even harder.

Shut down. Shut DOWN. SHUT DOWN!

I felt his Scroll give, so I pushed harder. It began to fall piece by piece, and started to collapse around me.

"CADIE!" Abhi grabbed my arm. "Get out of there! Now!"

Stunned, I broke the connection to the failing technology. Bringing my thoughts back to was like pulling at taffy. It took me a while to get them back where they belonged.

Situated back in my own mind, I faltered. Abhi caught me, sweeping me up in his arms. My head was spinning, pounding. I checked my shields. They were up in full force. Why all the pain?

"Shhhhh, Cadie. Everything is ok now. Shhh."

I didn't know what to think of the concern in Abhi's words. He laid me on my bed, brought my covers up over my chest, and placed his hand over my tightly clenched eyes.

Before my world turned black, I could have sworn I heard him say, "Sleep."

It was the first thought that ran across my mind before the smell of breakfast hit my nose the next morning. I walked through the hall to find Abhi sitting at the table paper and tea in hand.

“Good morning, Cadie. How do you feel?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the paper.

“Um, good actually,” I said, sitting down. “What happened last night?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing to worry about. It’s been taken care of.” He folded the paper and set it on the table, and headed for the kettle.

“Nothing to worry about?” I asked, reaching for the eggs. “I think it was more than noth…” I stopped.

I snatched up the paper after my eyes glanced the headline. My heart stopped.

Brian Watts, Founder of the Scroll, Found Dead

Abhi sat down, reaching across the table and pulling the paper from my shaking hands. He smiled.

“It’s been taken care of.”

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