Chapter 1
Lynn Daniels sat silently staring at the message holo hovering above her small desk. The information it conveyed was as damaging as it was expected. The last few months had been so trying she was almost numb to the finalcoup de gras.
“Final Foreclosure Notice” it read. That and a lot of legal mumbo-jumbo all boiled down to the fact that the bank was going to take possession of their home in less than one month. How nice of them to mention that they would be willing to issue a short term “bridge loan” for the three months plus penalties, that they were in arrears, so long as she was willing to put herself up as collateral for the loan. She sighed and waved her hand making the offensive message disappear.
She sighed again and turned in her chair startled to discover she wasn’t alone. Her seventeen-year-old son, Jack, was standing in the den’s doorway casually leaning up against the doorframe. It wasn’t that he was so imposing; he stood six feet and probably weighed in at around one-hundred-seventy pounds, pretty average for a senior in secondary school. No, what was disturbing about him at times was his habit of moving quietly, almost like a cat stalking its prey. Lynn wasn’t even sure he realized he was doing it; it just came naturally to him. How unlike Troy, his bull of a father whose every step could be heard throughout the house when he moved, if his bombastic voice didn’t cover it up that is. Lynn missed hearing that rumble. It had been almost four years since the accident had taken him from them and she still missed it.
“Jack!” she exclaimed. “I wish you wouldn’t do that! You almost made me pee my pants!”
“Sorry, Mom,” he answered in that soft, almost singsong lilt of his. “Maybe I’ll start wearing a bell around my neck so you’ll know where I am.” The grin he was trying to hide under his obviously faked façade of remorse not only made her want to start giggling but again made her wonder if he really did do it on purpose.
“Harrumph,” she shorted. “Maybe we’ll just do that. Serve you right for sneaking up on a poor old woman.”
“Old woman,” he snorted himself. “You’re barely old enough to vote. Don’t give me that ‘old woman’ routine.” Lynn knew that at 38 she wouldn’t be considered old by any stretch of the imagination, especially these days when life expectancy, barring accident or terrorist attack, was well above the century mark. Still, there were times, like now, when she felt exceedingly old.
“What was that?” he asked. “It seemed to bother you. Not more collection agencies I hope. It’s not like we have anything left for them to take.”
“Nothing for you to be concerned with,” she said standing up. “And, no, it wasn’t a collection agency.” Mentally she crossed her fingers. She didn’t like lying to him, and it wastechnicallytrue: the bank wasn’t a collection agency ― but it was at best an obfuscation even if it didn’t make it to the level of blatant lie. Still, she didn’t want him to worry about that which he couldn’t control; that was her job. He seemed to think it was his duty now that his father was gone to become the man of the house and take care of their troubles. Lynn freely admitted to herself she let him most of the time. For some reason he seemed to be able to get even the most obstinate and unreasonable people to see things his way.
He did it with reason and unrelenting tenacity. It helped that he was a genius,Tested and Certified, Lynn thought proudly. His father always quipped that if his son’s brainpower could be transmuted into muscle he would have been playing for the Chicago Bears at the age of twelve. One of her late husband’s few faults was his inability to appreciate intellectual pursuits over purely physical ones.
Not that Jack had grown up to be some wormy little science dweeb. He played a few sports: swimming, tennis and even volleyball. He held his own but couldn’t be said to excel in any of them. He was a well-rounded, level-headed kid who just happened to be extremely smart. He even refused to be accelerated out of secondary school and into collage claiming he wanted the school experience with people his own age. Lynn suspected part of the reason was her inability to pay the college tuition, scholarships being a part of the dim past. The schools were little more than businesses and far fewer people could afford to attend. Luckily his school was one of the few that allowed their advanced students to take post-secondary courses for credit. By now he had enough credits to be the equivalent of a late semester sophomore or early semester junior. Hopefully it would help in the future.
“Then what was it?” he asked. Lynn knew she had to get out of there fast and find something else to occupy his interest or his natural relentlessness would eventually drive the truth out of her.
“Nothing at all,” she said lightly, waving her hand again to lock the deskcomp. “What is it you wanted, dear?”
“I just wanted to tell you dinner was ready,” he said, seeming to ignore the now-locked computer.
“Oh good, I’m starving,” she said pleasantly. “I’ll set the table and have everything ready in about five minutes. Make sure you’re there on time.” She patted his arm as she walked past him and continued down the hall towards the kitchen.
“Sure, Mom, no problem,” he said to her retreating back. He watched her for a moment to make sure she wasn’t coming back, a chore that was pleasant no matter how you looked at it. Jack would be the first to admit his mother was one very hot chick. When he was sure she wasn’t coming back he stepped into the den and within a few seconds had the computer unlocked and all recent messages transferred to the perscomp strapped to his wrist. For good measure he reprogrammed the deskcomp to send him a copy of everything she sent or received. That task completed, he relocked the deskcomp, exited the room and made his way to dinner. In all it had taken him about thirty seconds to accomplish.
Later that evening he transferred the downloaded data to his own deskcomp for ease of review and read her correspondence with single-minded attention. Finished, he sat back and idly drummed his fingers on the desktop. Suddenly he froze and after a few completely motionless minutes he grinned and started “digging” into the web.
He had a lot of research to do.
+ + +
“Mom, do you have a minute to talk?” Jack asked after rapping lightly on doorframe to her bedroom. Lynn had been lightly dozing with the holo on after another fruitless evening of trying to think of a way they could get out of the mess they were in.
“Sure honey,” she said, wrapping her robe back around her legs and patting the bedspread beside her. He sat down and stared at her intently.
“This looks serious,” she said lightly while trying to avoid his direct look. “Who’s in trouble? You or me?”
“Both of us I would say,” he began. “I know about the problem with the mortgage. Have you thought of any solutions yet?”
“How do you know about that?” she demanded. “That’s not something you should be worrying about anyway. No, I haven’t thought of anything yet, but I’m sure something will come up. I just need to find a job, that’s all. I’m sure I’ll find one any day now.”
“Let’s be realistic, Mom,” he replied calmly. “Just about any job you’d be qualified for is being taken by an IS. Almost all of the non-professional labor out there is being done by Indentured Servants; even some of the professional work is going that way now. Face it, Mom, we have a slave society and we have to learn to survive in it.”
“It’s not nice to call them slaves,” Lynn snapped. “IS is bad enough.”
“I’m sure the difference means a great deal to them,” he again said calmly. Somehow even obviously sarcastic remarks weren’t quite as biting when he said them. “However, whether you call them ISs, slaves or labor fairies; the result is the same. There isn’t a job out there for you that pays enough to make it worth the fuel to get to it.”
“Jack, I’m trying, really trying,” Lynn said, coming close to tears. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“I know, Mom, I know,” Jack scooted over and put his arm around her shoulder. She did lean into him and start softly sobbing then. “I’ve been thinking about it for the past week or so and I have a few ideas that might help us out.”
