Chapter 26
The Agency
Monday, September 29, 2059
17 days to the apocalypse
The morning was uneventful. Leo ate breakfast while listening to Lydia argue with Mom. Mom still wasn't getting a cat, but he could tell Lydia was wearing her down.
Leo was slowly getting used to this strange, pre-Change life. If only he could stop the Change from happening.
At school, while trying to stay awake during his second class, there was an announcement.
“Leo Edwards. Please report to the principal's office.”
Now what? he wondered. What had he done this time?
When he entered the principal's office, he was pushed against the office wall and frisked. He didn't have a knife, as avoiding the school metal detectors was difficult. But they did take his cellphone, wallet, and house keys. When they let him turn around, a sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.
There were two of them, a large man and a smaller woman, plain-clothed, but standing and moving like they were still in uniform. Both had bulges in their jackets from concealed firearms. Their eyes gave him chills. He didn't know if they would kill a twelve-year-old boy like himself, but he knew they were more than capable of it.
“Leo,” the school principal said. “These two people are Special Agents from a secret anti-terrorism task force. The school urges you to cooperate with them as much as possible.”
Leo nodded, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Yes, sir.” He messaged Mr. Osmond.
Teach: Shit. I warned you. No doubt your irresponsible behavior is behind this.
Future Man 10/16: I know. But I'd rather be irresponsible and get the word out than be responsible and see the human race wiped out. Again.
“Leo, please come with us,” the man said. They took him to a back storage room and closed the door behind him. There was the ominous clicking of a lock. Escape wasn't an option.
“Sit down,” the man motioned to a small chair against the far wall, facing a small table.
Leo did so. The two sat at the table, facing him.
“I'm Special Agent Jones and this is my partner, Special Agent Lopez,” the man said. “Now Leo. We know you're an implant wearer.”
“Did your implant tell you to kill an old lady?” Special Agent Lopez asked. She tossed a manila folder onto the table and opened it. The folder held multiple pictures of Leo, clearly taken by drones, in front of the old lady's house. “That picture was taken less than an hour after her death.”
Special Agent Jones examined Leo's cellphone and went through his wallet, pulling out and studying his debit card and student ID.
He showed Leo's school ID to his partner, a strange expression on his face. “57-5191,” he said quietly. “You suppose it means anything?”
Special Agent Lopez shook her head. “I'm sure plenty of people have 5191 in their identification numbers.”
Was that his school ID number? He remembered the Beware the Guardian 5191 message. Strange.
Words appeared on his implant interface:
Teach: I'm requesting your permission to access your vision and hearing. Do you accept? Yes/No
Future Man 10/16: You can do that?
Teach: Yes. One of my more recent skill upgrades.
Leo selected Yes.
“Are you paying attention, Leo?” Special Agent Jones asked.
“Are you communicating with your implant friends?” Special Agent Lopez asked. “They're in no position to help you.”
“Yes, sir, and what?” Leo said.
“Because we think you're a good kid who maybe got in over his head and did some things he shouldn't, we're prepared to cut you a break,” Special Agent Jones continued. “If you tell us what you know and sign a confession, you will endure a painless implant removal procedure at the local hospital and be home by tonight.”
“We wrote up the old lady cannibal as a suicide,” Special Agent Lopez said with a chilly smile. “We're still working on how she locked herself in the freezer while she was trapped inside it, but cannibalistic serial killers are very clever.”
“Must be all the brain food,” Special Agent Jones continued. “Now your second option is, you don't tell us what we want to know and refuse to sign the confession. If you do this, we take you in, subject you to many very painful procedures until you do tell us what we want to know and sign the confession. At which time you will lose your arm and go to prison.”
Special Agent Lopez smiled. “We have reason to believe one of your implant-wearing friends, Mr. Osmond, is guilty of insider trading.”
***
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Teach: They think I what?
“You think he what?” Leo asked. How had they gone from implants and murder to insider trading?
“Do you know what insider trading is, Leo?” Special Agent Jones said. “It's trading of a company's securities while having access to confidential or non-public information about the company.”
Teach: Assholes! Ask them if they're investigating Congress, not to mention Body Booster's Board of Directors. People who actually did commit insider trading.
“You're willing to overlook a murder, but your anti-terrorism task force is investigating insider trading?” Leo asked, trying to understand the situation.
“I knew you were a bright kid,” Special Agent Lopez replied. Turning to her partner, she said: “I told you the principal was wrong about him.”
“Are you investigating Congress?” Leo asked.
Special Agent Lopez shook her head and looked sad. “Congress, in their infinite wisdom, carefully reviewed the stock trading done by Congress, and Congress's wealthy friends, and they decided neither Congress, nor their friends, needed to be investigated. Yes, I know it seems very unfair. But they pay my salary and provide decent health care, so what can I do?”
Teach: Congress did that over the weekend?
“Congress did that over the weekend?” Leo asked, echoing Mr. Osmond.
“I believe they did it Friday evening,” Special Agent Lopez answered. “Congress can be far more dedicated and efficient than most people believe, especially concerning affairs that matter to them.”
“Also, we're reasonably sure they weren't using implants, so it's not our concern,” Special Agent Jones said. “Your teacher, Mr. Osmond, timed the short-selling of Body Booster perfectly. How did he do that? Tell us what you know about Mr. Osmond and his implant contacts. Now.”
Teach: Ask to see the confession.
“Could I see the confession?” Leo asked.
“Certainly.” Special Agent Jones pulled out an official-looking sheet of paper and put it in front of Leo. He tried to read it, but it was full of complicated legal language.
Teach: It's what I was afraid of. They're using you to get to me. In the confession, you acknowledge you're an implant wearer and that you are communicating with Mr. Oliver Osmond, another implant wearer, who you believe is committing illegal insider trading using information gained through implant use.
Leo could feel Mr. Osmond's frustration and weariness through the implant.
Teach: I will, of course, deny everything and get a lawyer. It should be possible to overturn a confession signed by a twelve-year-old boy under duress. But with our legal system being the way it is, this will take years. Tell them as little as possible, but sign the confession. Act stupid. That shouldn't be hard for you.
Future Man 10/16: What's that supposed to mean?
“You have a special quest,” Imp said. “Do not sign that horrible confession. Reward for quest completion unknown.”
“Unknown reward? What's that about?” Leo asked Imp silently in response to the special quest.
“This quest involves too many unknown factors to accurately access your reward,” Imp responded. “I can assure you that, assuming you are not killed carrying out this quest, the reward will be significant.”
Future Man 10/16: Mr. Osmond, sorry to get you into this. I'll get you as much time as I can. Take care of yourself.
Teach: You don't understand, Leo. If you don't sign that confession, they will torture you. You will be signing it in a couple of hours, regardless, so you might as well sign it now.
Future Man 10/16: This is not my first rodeo, Mr. Osmond. I believe at this point I'm the more expendable of the two of us and your imprisonment would hurt our mission far more than mine will. I don't know how long I'll be able to hold out, especially if they use drugs, but I'll do what I can.
Leo tore up the confession, crumpled the pieces into a ball, and threw it at the Special Agents. “I have nothing to say without a lawyer present.”
There was silence...
Special Agent Jones pulled out his cellphone and turned it so the screen faced Leo. “Look.”
Leo did. It was a video, and it was real. Some things you just can't fake.
Like the terror on the man's face, strapped to what looked like a medical chair. “I don't have an implant! I swear. Please!”
“Man, I hate chopping off fingers,” a female voice off-screen said. “It's so messy.”
“Mr. Demsfield,” a second off-screen voice said. “We will not stop until you make the implant in your wrist turn violet. We know you can do this...”
“Stop! Stop! Please don't do this! I'll sign the confession!”
“Too late for that,” the second voice said. “Continue with the amputations.”
The video moved downward, focusing on the man's left arm, strapped firmly to the chair's metal armrest. His left hand was hanging over a metal bowl that they used to catch the blood dripping from the stumps of the man's three missing fingers.
A woman in a lab coat holding what looked like oversized cutting pliers stepped forward. She grabbed the man's index finger and proceeded to cut off the first joint.
The man screamed.
“In case you're wondering, that man is dead,” Special Agent Jones said. “It's entirely possible he didn't have an implant.”
“People make mistakes,” Special Agent Lopez said. “You know how it is. ‘To err is human.’”
“We are people you do not want to fuck with, Leo,” Special Agent Jones said. He pulled out a second copy of the confession and placed it in front of Leo. “Sign the goddamn confession. Now.”
Leo made a big show of yawning. Then he smiled. “Oh. I get it. You're trying to scare me. Guys, I know you're not going to cut off my fingers. I'm twelve.”
The two agents looked at each other. “Suppose he's on drugs?” Detective Jones asked. “No eye dilation. He doesn't appear to be on drugs. Do you think we wouldn't hurt a twelve-year-old boy, Leo? You're wrong.” He turned back to his partner. “Could you hurt him, Dez? Just a little.”