One day Later. July 11th, 2267. 04:45 John’s Homestead

The beams of light began to hit John’s face. Seconds later it began to hit his eyelids. His restful sleep had come to an end. The tiny cracks in the blinds allowed just enough light in the room to wake him up. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he rubbed his eyes.

“Fucking cheap-ass blinds. It is too early to be awake,” John sighed loudly, “Eve, compile a summary of the public’s reaction to last night’s debate. Have it ready for review by the time I’m out of the shower.”

“I will transmit it to the first floor’s terminals momentarily.”

John then stood up and stretched a bit, “Give me the cliff notes please.”

John dropped his gym shorts, pulled off his t-shirt, and tossed it in the hamper. He walked into the bathroom in nothing but his boxer briefs to begin the morning routine. With any luck, he’d hear some good news.

“William was the overwhelming public winner of the debate. Forty-one percent of the public voters are now onboard his camp with a margin for error reported to be as high as nine percent.”

“I’d feel a hell of a lot more comfortable about that margin of error if we were at fifty percent. Are you aware of any ways to falsify votes or change cast votes?”

“That is not possible. Votes are public, though their personal choices are not available until after the election has concluded, and a record of each person’s record is date and time stamped along with recording what choices they made. Cross-checking the votes against the eligible voter rolls is a relatively easy process, not to mention quick.”

“Right, so it’s safe to say that our enemies either know they can’t alter the votes, or they know a process to do that.”

“The voting machines are not connected to the extra-net but instead are connected to the colonial central office using unknown encryption. Each vote creates a bespoke and encrypted record that is then transferred physically from the voting machine to a terminal at the voting location. The unique record number is double encrypted and cannot be deciphered. Additionally, there is a four-wave process to ensure no one votes more than the lone time they are entitled to.”

“Meaning false records would be easy to identify,” John said.

“In sixty years of using this system, there has only been one recorded breach, which was abused due to a rounding error in the software. That flaw has been patched for forty-three years. The machines will not accept any votes if that flaw were to appear once again in the software.”

“That’s good news that our opponents cannot falsify votes at the very least. Any luck tracking down their location, or locations?”

“Negative, my access to the surveillance network of the colony can shut off cameras or cause a looping of footage for short periods of time. I am unable to playback archival footage at this time.”

“Wow, really?” John stopped what he was doing and looked up at the speaker.

“Technically, yes. If I were to access the live footage a record of that would be made.”

“Which would allow those assholes to track that entry point and lead them to us.”

“Correct.”

“Is there any way to use that to our advantage?” John asked curiously.

Eve paused to contemplate the question but then answered, “Potentially, we could lure them here and place a tracker on a vehicle.”

“But we’d have to have a damn good excuse as to why we aren’t the person, or persons, responsible for the surveillance hack.”

“I will work on plausible explanations for that.”

John nodded as he began looking for a pan and spatula. When the desired tools were acquired, he stepped to the fridge and dug out this morning’s ingredients for breakfast. Moments later five extra-large eggs were gently placed into a large measuring glass. Some salted butter, chives, mushrooms, and cheese were also pulled out. Key ingredients to an omelet.

He carefully laid things out on the countertop and placed the smaller frying pan on the oven first. While that was warming up, he got to work chopping up the mushrooms. Entirely too much butter was dropped onto the hot pan, roughly half a stick, before the mushrooms were tossed onto the pan. John was humming some random tune to himself as he happily went about making his breakfast.

The eggs were cracked and then their contents were mixed up together in the measuring glass. He whisked them up then set them down as he got the other frying pan warmed up. The remainder of the butter was tossed into it. The mushrooms he seasoned and spread around the plate.

Within ten minutes John was digging into the cheesy goodness that was his breakfast. Minutes after he finished, he was in his Ford Raptor flying down the sketchy road. He did note several times that if he lost control, it would end very poorly, but the burly truck just laughed at the road conditions and blitzed down it.

The ride got significantly less interesting the moment they got to the paved highway. Thoughts about dying or being mangled in a car wreck disappeared from his mind though. Ironic because his truck was now speeding down the highway pegged at its limiter. The two-hour drive would be cut short by over an hour, though he would burn over two times the amount of fuel in order to achieve such a feat.

John rolled into the general store about sixty-five minutes after he drove like a madman to the city. He pulled into one of the fueling bays and put his big rig into park. Moments later the fuel pumps were connected, and his truck began the refueling process.

“Hell of a rig youngster, how spendy is she to drive?” the old man in the bay next to him said.

“Well, the way I drive it’s expensive as hell,” John flashed the man a grin.

“Kids these days, you all live life like you are invincible.”

“Was that any different for you and your friends at my age,” John grinned as he began cleaning the windshield.

“No… no I suppose not,” the old man then grinned, “Except we learned with time to not push things.”

“I suppose I haven’t gained that needed bit of wisdom just yet.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll learn that sooner or later.”

John grunted as he looked at the pump tick up, “My ex-wife said something like that a few years ago.”

“You’d be wise to find a nice gal and settle down with her. Or have her help you settle down,” the old man then perked up, “My great-niece…”

“Much obliged old man, but I’m not ready to commit to anyone.”

He smiled and then tipped his cap, “Well, keep yourself in one piece young man.”

“I will try to do that,” John grinned as he watched the dispenser continue to deliver its fuel into his truck, “Assuming I can afford this fill-up.”

“Hah!” the old man got into his truck and slowly drove away.

John finished fueling his truck and parked it on the side of the general store. He hopped out and walked across the lot to the rental car facility. He left his registered phone and official colonial ID. John chuckled at that though, his official ID was anything but real, but it was issued by the colony.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

He had another ID that he was playing with in his left hand that was going to be used to rent this vehicle. It was important that no one could track him for a few hours. Though it would be somewhat curious that his location wouldn’t move for a few hours. It would be a risk worth taking.

Moments later John was driving into the colony in a small hatchback. His destination was the Chrono Tower, though his target would be located in the Albright Highrise. Both buildings were a twenty-to-thirty-minute drive away. With any luck, John would be able to bury Dale Rosberg.

08:15 Chrono Tower – Unit 2415

A pair of small devices were pointed at the Albright Highrise. They were scanning this side of the building, trying to find Dale Rosberg. The debate, held the previous night, was a masterclass in overpreparation on Dale’s part. More than that, it exposed him to the electorate.

John’s disdain for politics was clear, but he was genuinely interested in this election. Though not because he cared who won, but rather it was interesting to him in the dichotomy of the candidates. One was an introverted business genius with terrible communication skills and the other was an extroverted asshole with far too much money and privately a serial philanderer.

The two devices moved at once and began tracking figures. John noticed that in between puffs of smoke from his cigar. He was sitting in the corner, out of sight of the building across the way. The portable terminal was resting on a chair as he synced its audio output to his headset.

“What are you talking about?” Dale sounded overly stressed, “How are these stupid fuckers voting for William now? That makes no fucking sense.”

“Your responses were good, the delivery was less than stellar,” a woman’s voice said.

“Who is that?” John said as he looked at the screen.

Eve then displayed a single name on the screen, Anica Eklund. She was his chief of staff. John then wondered how many people knew about the support. That answer was then quickly answered.

“Look, we’re going to do a better job of preparing you for the next debate. If we nail the responses then we will maintain our lead.”

“God fucking dammit. Why in the hell didn’t we do that for this one?” Dale said as he slumped down in his chair.

“We didn’t think William was going to excel in this debate. It was an oversight that won’t be made again,” a man’s voice said from the other side of the room.

Nicholas Park, the name scrolled across the screen, chief of intelligence and security.

“I think we need to seriously consider running with that information…” Nicholas trailed off as if he lost his train of thought.

“No, absolutely not. Look, dirty campaigns don’t work well here. If you throw the first punch it is not going to go well for us,” Anica said, “And you’ve left a trail of young women in your wake on the campaign trail. We’ve bought their silence, but you have to keep your dick in your pants.”

“That mean your offering yourself to me?” Dale’s tone shifted to a lecherous one.

“Unlike you, I keep my wedding vows.”

“Anica, tell me, if we ran that campaign what effect would it do?”

“We’d lose a third of our votes. I’m not sure how many we’d pick up, definitely less than we’d gain,” Anica turned to face Dale, “The issue is the dirt we have on William was when he was eighteen to twenty. If you throw mud at him how much dirt does he have on you?”

“There’s no way…” Dale blurted out by was interrupted by Nicholas.

“Dale, she’s got a point,” Nicholas said calmly, “The information we have on him is effectively nothing.”

“What do you have on his business practices?” Dale snarled back.

“He’s as capitalist as they come,” Nicholas said, “But his workers respect him because his various company’s compensation plans are all quite generous.”

“Meaning there’s nothing we can use,” Dale said shaking his head, “How about his interactions with other businesses?”

Anica jumped in, “He’s a ruthless bastard in negotiations. He knows what he wants and how to get it. There are some hurt feelings, but they don’t extend beyond not willing to vote for him. His company is publicly traded.”

“Which means any mergers or acquisitions have resulted in the colonial government getting access to the books and writing an extensive report that either supports or rejects the merger,” Dale said, “That means any that were approved aren’t going to be of much use.”

“What about close calls?” Anica said, “They met the minimum thresholds, but only just.”

John looked concerned as he was listening to this conversation. No one in that room was confident of victory. If he didn’t know any better this meeting was more about desperation than any real logistics or planning meeting.

“I’ll dig into the records that didn’t receive a glowing endorsement. I’ll also have my people interview former workers and executives of those companies,” Nicholas said.

“Good. How would either of you feel about requesting to move the next debate up by a week?” Dale asked.

“Provided your allies come through with the questions,” Anica smiled as she leaned back in her seat, “I think we can coach and work on your delivery in two weeks. But why do that?”

“William is many things but comfortable in a group setting he is not. If we push it forward, we reduce his preparation time,” Dale grinned evilly, “Make him feel and look out of sorts.”

“You’ll need to come up with a good reason that the public, and William, will buy,” Nicholas warned as he looked up at Anica, “The two of us are going to have to figure out what sounds reasonable for the change. If we don’t have a good one…”

Anica then finished the sentence, “Then it’s going to look like we’re playing games. May not do much from a voting standpoint but we lose the ability to speak as if we were amongst the people. We would look like a career politician.”

“Come now, that’s the ultimate…” Dale couldn’t finish his sentence.

“The image you’ve created is a mirage. We in this room are well aware of your political capabilities and desires,” Anica said, “The public likes the mirage, but if they find out you want to be a career politician before the election you are going lose by a wide margin.”

“Very well, let’s shift gears and work on manufacturing a good excuse,” Dale said as he stood up and left the room.

John sat there in silence as the trio exited the boardroom. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he pressed a button on the terminal.

“Eve, contact William on the secure channel. Let him know to begin preparing for an earlier debate,” John sighed loudly.

“Message has been sent.”

“Begin researching these two. If I was a betting man, I’m sure we’d find some dirt on his intelligence advisor.”

“I would concur, but I would temper expectations on his Chief of State. Nothing in her profile suggests illicit behavior.”

“True, but search for her and close associates. We may not be able to get her on anything, but if her family is into anything illegal then we can use that as leverage against her,” John paused as he began collecting and putting away the surveillance gear, “Send a message to the kids. I want to know if they found anything.”

“On that topic, I’ve narrowed down possible locations for their base based on the security camera footage that I’ve had access to.”

“Display it on screen.”

The screen shifted to a satellite photo of the colony. Sixteen dots appeared in the old, and very blighted, industrial district. John stared at the locations and looked at descriptions, stolen from past attempts to sell the property, and shook his head. Each one had at least one dormitory on site. Every last one of them could house twenty souls with relative ease.

Further complicating things was that each one was built on top of, or parallel to, the primary fiberoptic line that the colony used to link everything together. Taking control of the colony’s systems would be relatively simple if the colony had mismanaged its central access systems. A prospect that was all but confirmed due to the strange change of communication behaviors originating from the people here.

“Send the kids. Tell them to drive by but not to look into any of them. I don’t think these cats are living like paupers,” John clenched his fist in anger when the thought came to him, “Have any of these properties been sold in the last twelve months?”

“Yes, all of them.”

John sighed, “Well, there goes the obvious. Let’s use the kids’ eyes on this one for now.”

“What will you be doing now?”

John responded in his normal sarcastic tone, “Gardening. Sadly, that is the truth. There’s nothing else to do at the moment here. Probably set the auto drive and get some work done in the truck at least till we get to the end of the highway.”

With that answer John shut the portal terminal off and finished placing all of his gear in the single case he brought with him. He calmly walked back into the living room of the empty housing unit and out its door. John heard the door lock loudly behind him.

The elevator was dreadfully slow to arrive and when it did, it alerted him with a high-pitched dinging sound. The elevator stopped five times before arriving on the ground floor. No one paid John any mind. It was as if he had an invisible face. Not that any of these people were in any danger from him. But it was nice when the people went out of their way to not look at him or engage him in conversation.

It was far better for John to be a faint memory in people’s minds rather than be something so memorable no one could forget. As he walked into the busy lobby of the high rise once again, no one paid any attention to him. He walked out of the front door and immediately turned right to head to the car park.

He retrieved his car and left, grumbling about the amount of parking cost. The drive to the other side of the colony was a slow slog. Late morning traffic surged this morning, for reasons unknown to John. Nearly ninety minutes later he reached the car rental agency and turned the car back in.

The drive home was uneventful. He worked on surveillance intelligence and began analyzing things. John was trying to find some routine that Paulus had fallen into. That didn’t just apply to Paulus but to all of John’s enemies. If he could trap them in their routines, he could take advantage of it.

Pictures of the surveillance showed him partnered up most frequently with Linus. But he also trailed a woman named Daphne. In almost all of the images, he was within eyesight of her. John couldn’t help but wonder what was going on with these two.

Were they lovers? No, John shook his head. She never noticed him, much less looked at him. In cases where the two were knowingly out in public together, there was always a distance between the two. As John flipped through image after image, he couldn’t help but notice the body language.

“What did she do to warrant this punishment?” John asked before taking control of the wheel, “She might be the key to destroying this crew.”