Chapter 1

Overwhelming Numbers

I think it's pretty widely agreed upon that hearing voices out of nowhere is a bad thing. Once you start hearing voices you get laid out on a big couch and talk out loud to whatever shrink you can afford. Tell them that the voices are insisting your cat loving neighbor is secretly planning to feed your fingers to her beloved fluffy babies. Then your shrink will nod solemnly and press the button under his chair that sends in the orderlies that will give you a fancy white jacket with a matching padded room. Or maybe not, I have no idea how any of that works. I’m just trying to plan out what I’m going to say when I get put on that big couch. I wasn’t hearing any voices thank God, but I almost wished I was.

It would be easier to explain than the numbers.

The coffee shop was only partly filled with people. I stood back against the wall with my phone out trying not to look suspicious as I stared at the numbers floating over the woman ordering an espresso at the counter. The numbers floating above her were mostly the same ones I’d seen over most people with numbers. A bunch of zero point zero threes and fours. I looked down at my phone again. My browser’s search history open beneath the search bar with searches like “Hallucinating floating numbers” and “Why can no one see the numbers but me?” and devolving to just “WTF magic space numbers”.

I looked outside wary of any more numbers. There were these clouds of numbers that seemed to…slip into the world. On sidewalks and roads and buildings the numbers spewing out from those rifts seemed to attach to people and… well I wasn’t sure. But I was pretty sure I was the only one who could see them. I mean, unless everyone could see them and the whole world just decided to collectively fuck with me. The lady at the counter made her way back to her table of friends and I flattened myself against the wall as she passed me by, giving me a strange look before sitting down.

I let out the breath I’d been holding in as I relaxed. I had no idea if these things were contagious or not. Or just a weird lasting side effect of sleep deprivation and Dave’s “special” strain of weed. I stifled a yawn at the thought of sleep and rubbed at my eyes for the umpteenth time that morning. Feeling the rest of my body just starting to catch on that we weren’t in bed anymore and supposed to be working. A random number four caught my eye as I watched it go through a table and disappear into the floor. “I just gotta to get through work today.” I said to myself. “Then I’ll figure something out. Yeah. Sounds good.”

“Uh, Toby?”

I’ll get some real meds. Not whatever shit Dave puts in his pot. I groaned internally at the memory of trying his “special blend”. Nope, never making that mistake again. I’m gonna get some bona-fide anti-psychotics. I frowned. Just as soon as I come into some money.

“Iced Latte for Toby!”

I blinked. Then cursed under my breath as I stowed my phone and made my way to the counter. “Here! Sorry about that.” I was just about to pick up my cup when my hand froze looking at the barista. There were more numbers on her now. Did they move from the girl making the order earlier to her? Jesus, could they spread through touch?

“Is everything alright sir?”

I should just leave the coffee and head to work. It wasn’t worth the risk. It was either that or expose myself to whatever alien number virus was making its way through the world. My life was worth more than a cup of coffee.

I looked at the barista again and smiled “Let me ah, get a napkin”. I swallowed as I grabbed way too many napkins and cradled my cup in a brown bouquet, quickly making my way towards the door. Sure, my life was worth more than a cup of coffee but what was life without coffee? I may be going crazy, but seven bucks is still seven bucks and I’ll be damned if I miss out on my morning cup of mocha.

Walking out of the shop and keeping careful track of anyone on the sidewalk with numbers attached to them I made my way to work. Antonio’s Authentic NY Pizzeria was in the same plaza the coffee shop was and also not in New York, snugly squeezed in between a GNC and the Planet Fitness. Antonio thought it was well placed because of its location in between neighborhoods but I liked to think it was well placed to tempt all those unable to keep to their new year's resolutions.

The chime of the front doorbell sounded as I came in. A quick scan of the shop and I nodded to myself. Less numbers in the shop today than usual.

“Kincaid! Get back here and start on the next batch of dough!” The big man himself shouted out at me. Holding up his arm he made a big act of tapping his wrist. “And you’re late!”

I held back a groan as I made my way towards the back. “It’s just turned eight.” I mumbled.

“If your early you’re on time!” Antonio singed out.

“If you’re on time you’re late.” I mouthed the words out as he called them. He’d keep saying it until he got you to come in an hour earlier, but I was so desensitized I just ignored it and got to work.

“Hey Dave.” I said passing my one-time source of pot.

“Sup man.”

Setting down my cup with one final sip I got out the flour and other ingredients to mixed them together. My hands moving in familiar patterns so ingrained into me that my mind could wander without stopping or slowing down. What the hell were the numbers I was seeing even supposed to mean. They always appeared on people with percentages below one percent. Well, except that one wild four that went through the floor. I had no idea what that was. But what even was the cause of those things? How does that even happen? Aliens? Government super weapon? The Matrix?

I paused. Was all that “universe is a simulation” talk actually true? What if I was in the Matrix? If the whole world was a simulation…

“Then I’m definitely Neo.” I said nodding to myself enthusiastically giving the dough some completely necessary jabs and punches. After another long sip of coffee, I was about ready to prep the dough for the oven before I stopped to scratch at an itch on my hand. I looked down to what I hoped wasn’t a mosquito bite and-

“Bwah!” I gaped at the small one point four blinking on my hand. Frantic and holding out my arm like it was infected. Dave gave me a questioning look. “Ay. Uh, you good man.” I sped over to the dishwasher sink. Grabbing the spray nozzle, I lit up the number with a long spray of water. I hoped that the thing would drain away with the water but instead the numbers just sat there. Menacingly.

I was in the middle of furiously scrubbing my hand with the dish sponge when I heard a booming voice behind me.

“Kincaid!” I whipped my head towards the door Antonio had just appeared out of. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I looked back towards the numbers on my hand then back to my boss. I pointed at the number. “You can see this right? It’s stuck to my hand!”

There was a pause of silence for a moment before Antonio groaned. “Oh god, are you a germophobe or something?”

“What? No! The numbers!” I said trying and failing to keep any panic from my voice. All the frustration that I’d been holding in since I started seeing the things leaking out in a rush. “I’m talking about the numbers! They’re everywhere and almost everyone has them! They’re in the walls too, look! There’s one right now!”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It was only a zero point two. It just drifted through the wall like it didn’t have a care in the world. The little shit. I walked over to it and started furiously pointing at it. “It’s right here!”

“Goddammit Toby are you high!”

“Of course, I’m not high! I’m perfectly calm!” I shouted. Waving my arms in a way that wasn’t at all crazy.

“They’ve been following me for days! I can’t get enough sleep because they keep zipping through the room and might hit me! I don’t got the money for therapy or the drugs I’d need to replace therapy!” I said a bit of mania creeping into my voice now.

Antonio had dropped the angry owner look and now wore the expression of a man uncomfortably close to a crazy person. For some reason.

“All I want is for some part of this to make…” I whirled my head around looking for the floating zero point two that had been in the air a second ago. I had hoped for a moment that I had been freed from this whole ordeal. That all my worries were for naught, and I could go back to the grind of living in the modern world. Then I found out where the number went. It was on my other hand. Apparently, I had accidentally smacked it while I’d been ranting. I held both my hands up with their matching sets of numbers horror chilling me to my core. So, I did the only thing my brain was capable of at the moment.

I screamed.

Then Antonio screamed.

Dave still looked confused and completely baked.

What followed was a lot of confused screaming as I tried to get the numbers off my hands with whatever objects were nearby. Antonio swearing like a sailor as he tried to force me out of the shop by throwing the dough I’d just made at me. Dave did nothing because he was still high.

The police officers that came in early to pick up pizzas for their station were not nearly as flustered and had no problem tackling me to the ground. Getting the cuffs on me and hauling me into their patrol car. I had a good thirty minutes to cool off as they waited on the pizzas they ordered. After they got those, they piled into the car and without a word with me and we drove off. I was too tired to freak out anymore and just waited to see where we were going.

One of the cops turned to look back at me as his partner drove. “Look kid, your boss said he wasn’t gonna press charges. And frankly-” he gestured to the pizzas in his lap. “I just wanna get back and chow on my Hawaiian pizza, alright. So where is your place?”

“I-It’s around the corner. The studio apartments off of Wendell Ave.” I said meekly.

“Good, good.” The cop driving said as he drove off. “You know kid, you’re too young to have your life fall apart this early in your life. You’re what? Eighteen?”

“I’m twenty five.”

The cop frowned at me. “Christ kid. You a fucking vampire or something? Go outside more. God, you almost remind me of my nephew. And let me tell you he-”

The guy really went into how he felt about his nephew from there. By the time the patrol car pulled up to my apartment I’d felt like I’d been told way too much about how he felt about his mother, his favorite football team, and his sister’s gambling problem. They opened the door to the back seat and I climbed out. Turning around so they could get the cuffs off that were behind my back.

“No more freaking out alright?”

“Ah yeah. Thanks for the ride.” I said looking at my now freed hands and the numbers still sticking to them. “No more freaking out.” I sighed.

“Well take care then.” The cop who’d been taking the whole ride put his hand on my shoulder. “And thanks for the talk.”

I smiled and nodded. Despite not really contributing anything to his long winded talk.

The police drove off and I made my way towards my apartment. Holding my nose as I passed by my crazy cat lady of a neighbor’s apartment and the god awful stench of the place. I got to my door and fumbled for my keys. Unlocking the door but still having to ram my shoulder into it to get the thing to open properly. My apartment was about as bare bones as you could get. The bed in the corner was just a inflatable mattress on the floor with some blankets on it. It was a different corner than it usually was because I’d seen a point zero seven hover through my kitchenette and I wanted to be as far away from it as possible.

“Oh dammit.” I realized in horror, turning towards the door as if it would make any difference now. “I left my coffee at the shop.”

Groaning at the thought of letting most of my seven dollar coffee getting thrown away. I gave up on any thoughts about lunch and just collapsed into my bed. Wishing tomorrow would come already despite it only being nine thirty. Things have to get better than this right? I thought idly.

I mean how much worse could it get than getting dragged out of your job in handcuffs?

Closing my eyes, I actually managed to forget about the numbers for what felt like the first time in ages. And drift off to sleep.

I woke up to the sound of an alarm. I don’t have an alarm.

[Minimum Akashic Compatibility Threshold Reached (10%)]

[Beginning Pre-Integration Analysis]

My eyes snapped open. Staring at the blue boxes in the center of my vision. “Wha…What!” The words hovered in the air like, like some kind of augmented reality game prompt. I waved my hand as the boxes disappeared.

For a brief moment I hoped that I had just dreamed the boxes and numbers. But then I looked at my hands.

“Oh shit!”

The numbers that had been static on my hands had gotten some friends. A lot of friends. My arms were practically covered in numbers. And I could only watch as some of them sunk into my skin.

“Aw fuck!

I threw my bedsheets aside and scrambled for my phone. I heard more than felt the thump of it as it tumbled out of the blankets and onto my bed. I grabbed it but before I could turn it on, I could see that some of the numbers that had sunk into my skin were turning into words.

[Deoxiribose Nucleic Acid gene base]

[Sentience Verified]

[97.37% similarity to Integrated Human Genotypes]

[Mana particle concentration 0.00%]

[Error: No Mana particles detected. Integration parameters limited to living subjects. Ending Integration Analysis.]

[Error: Subject E-27645 still within Integration parameters.]

The error messages kept going back and forth. There were so many errors clouding my vision now I was having trouble looking at my phone. I needed help. For a brief instant I considered the possibility of calling my dad, then instantly discarded it. No reason to make this situation any worse than it already was. I stabbed the screen with my finger until I found the number I was looking for.

“Hello nine one one? I need help.”

“Kincaid? What the hell are you talking about!”

I paused amid my panic as I registered who I had actually called. “Antonio?”

“Of course it's me you dumbass! Are you high again? Can’t you even tell who you’re calling!?”

I looked at my phone and the utterly ridiculous amount of error messages scrawling across my vision.

“No.” I said bluntly.

“Well hell I’m glad you called Kincaid. Saves me the effort of calling you and telling you you’re fired!” Antonio said triumphantly.

“I- wait.” My panic addled brain short circuiting for a second as I processed the information. “What?”

“Dave helped me find your hidden stash of drugs in the freezer.” There was a pause as I got the distinct feeling Antonio was shaking his head in disappointment. “The devil’s weed… I thought you were better than that Toby.”

My mouth stuttered as I tried to focus on the phone call and not the text that was continuing to trickle out of my arms.

[Error unresolved. Sending query to local Akashic control node.]

[Please wait…]

I was utterly confused at the notifications. I wish I could say I was surprised that Dave had thrown me under the bus to keep his job, but I wasn’t. And honestly getting fired for screaming incoherently inside your workplace seemed like the appropriate response. Didn’t mean I had to like it though. It was all too much too fast. My head felt like it was ringing. But the ringing felt…melodic somehow?

I stared at the “Please wait” hovering in the middle of my arm. “How are you playing elevator music?” I demanded. Feeling vaguely offended for some reason. I started swiping through the thing in an effort to dislodge it.

“And why!” I grunted with effort with each swipe.

“Are you. Playing. ABBA?!”

In the middle of my attack on the translucent floating words I’d forgotten that I was still holding my phone. I felt a wave of horror wash over me as I watched my favorite rectangle twirl through the air like a fucking football. It’s plastic paper-thin case failing spectacularly as it hit the wall with a heart stopping crack.

“Oh God! Why!?” I screamed in anguish. Holding my hands to my head. Totally uncaring about the numbers now as I slumped to my knees.

[Connection successful. Permission granted to reclassify Subject E-27645]

[New racial designation: Variant Human]

[Beginning integration executable]

I stared at the text numbly as I mourned the loss of my phone. Of all the things that could have happened today. Getting fired, almost getting arrested, even leaving my coffee at work. I could handle all of that. But my phone?

I sighed. Even as the numbers surrounding me seemed to multiply. Swirling like they were a living thing.

“Well…at least I won’t have to delete my browser history if these numbers kill me…” I said. Resigned to my fate.

[Assigned to World Shard One]

[Evaluating translation points with highest survival probability]

[Translation point established]

[Initiating Plane Shift]

I braced myself as I felt a wave of electricity spark through me that… wasn’t very painful actually. Other than that there was a rush of new sounds around me as I kept my eyes shut. It sounded like I’d been dropped into the middle of a city. I heard people bustling, talking, and… was that a waterfall?

I risked opening an eye. Then two as I looked around me. “Oh.” I whispered utterly stunned.

“Oh no.”