System Seven (19 page)

A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are
built for.

-John A. Shedd, 1859 - ? , American Author, professor

Mac screwed the gas
cap closed and eyed the highway as he circled back into the camper. Topped off,
the rig would need two, maybe three more refuelings to reach the cabin. Food
was also on the agenda but smaller stores northwest of Reno would be safer.

Kaiya rested in the
bedroom while he drove up highway 49 through forested hills. They passed the
occasional community; the largest, Grass Valley and Nevada City, receded in the
mirrors without incident. There was nothing to lead authorities to the RV
unless Helen had revealed it before dying – or if they had stolen her
thoughts. He suppressed a shudder. Steve
might change his mind, too. So far, the radio chatter mentioned only the Mazda.

The miles rolled by
taking the hours with them. The Coachman emerged from the trees onto the high
Sierra plains and its alpine scrub. Sunlight warmed the dash but not his
thoughts. The organizations gunning for the laptop had killed, kidnapped, and
framed so far. Brodie was involved or at least served under a command that was.
The good news was he’d gotten Kaiya free, had the laptop, and was heading to
the safety of the cabin. Brent and Austin’s fates were beyond knowing, at least
for now. With Kaiya safe and settled, he could regroup and begin to explore
options.

The bedroom door
opened and Kaiya came forward. He noted her positive mood and knew that she’d
taken charge of her fear. Her hair was pushed up in Helen’s floppy yellow hat
and she wore a yellow windbreaker and large black sunglasses. She sat down in
the passenger’s chair.

“How’s this?”

He touched the brim of
Frank’s Panama hat. “On vacation.”

“So are we there yet,
dad? Huh, are we?”

He smiled. “Almost at
Portola for gas and food. When we get there I want you out of sight.”

“Okay.” She studied
him. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Just over thirty-one
hours. I’m okay.” His voice betrayed the words. It had been so much easier just
five years ago.

She frowned. “Yeah no,
I don’t think so. Do we have to get to the cabin right away? Couldn’t we find a
place to park so you can rest?”

Resting appealed to
his every sense but staying so near Sacramento didn’t. Less than two hundred
miles felt like their front yard under the circumstances.

She reached over to a
small GPS device on the dash and powered it up. “Here, let’s find an RV park.
We’ll blend in.”

He watched Kaiya
figure out the device and understood better why Austin was drawn to her. She
had an inner beauty comprised of vitality, intelligence and tenacity that
surpassed her exterior. She’d opted to aim for strength in spite of the
situation. It spoke volumes about her spirit.

The thought of what
they might do to that spirit was unacceptable.

She peered ahead. “Up
here on the right. Sierra Valley RV.” They passed the tree-shrouded entrance.
“They’ve got free wifi.” She turned to him. “Mac, you look tapped. Let’s not
take chances on the road. We can rest and check out the laptop.”

“Alright. We’ll circle
back after fueling. If we use the laptop, it will be under my direction.
Capiche?”

“No problem, Mac, I
get it now. I do.”

They arrived in the
town of Portola just at nine o’clock and pulled into a corner gas station and
market. Mac went inside to get groceries and pre-paid for the gas with cash: in
and out, as unremarkable as he could be.

He started the fueling
and looked around. The small town was easy on the senses. A coffee shop across
the street. A restaurant down the way named
The
Log Cabin
was just that, a large log cabin. A customer went into a grocery
store down the street. An old man walked his dog without a leash. Laid back,
the way life should be.

Seconds after the
thought, a California Highway Patrol sedan came into view and rolled to a stop
at the light. Mac turned away. Adrenaline surged to make his pulse pound in his
neck. Bulletins for cop killers were always issued statewide, if not wider. A
few moments later the black and white cruiser entered his peripheral vision and
continued down the street. By the time fueling was done the adrenaline spike
waned and the reality of fatigue won over.

He paid cash for a
night’s stay in the RV park. Their slot was at the back and allowed view of the
entrance to the park as well as access to a dirt road to a street beyond. He
chose not to plug in to the park’s electrical service and instead relied on the
generator for power. They’d take a few hours of sleep and be gone again, no
ties or tethers.

Kaiya noted their
neighbors’ RVs were all closed up, unlike some of the other campers in the park
who were socializing with other families. He was okay with that.

“Last thing we need is
face time with anyone. You up for some Frosted Flakes?”

“Oh why not.” Kaiya
closed the windshield curtains around the cab.

“I want to tell you,
you’re doing good, Kaiya. You’re holding up well.”

She grimaced. “Thanks,
but most of this is pure redirection. If I stop to think about it I’ll fall
apart.”

“Understood. Still,
you’re doing well.”

She shook her head. “I
never wanted to believe any of this. Austin used to talk about how corrupt the
government was and how they kept really important secrets. Psychic stuff, major
conspiracies. It made me uncomfortable so he stopped talking about it. What do
you know, Mac? About all this?”

“Not enough,
apparently.” He told her about the years of government research and its
official result. “I always thought it odd to hide the research then publicly
admit to it while calling it a wash, a failure.”

“When has government
ever admitted to blowing millions on something so insubstantial?”

“That’s the thing. It
just seems their way of ending the discussion. If government investigated it
thoroughly and there was nothing to it, then the majority’s mind would be made up,
too. The power of a strong government.” Just how often the effect was used
would boggle her mind. “And it helps that the public has an incredibly short
memory.”

“But if they can read
minds, how come they haven’t found us?”

“All I know is that it
won’t take a mind reader to track us down if they put enough effort into it.
Then there’s Steve. That’s why I want to get to Smith Falls as fast as
possible.”

The cabin was located
in a remote area near the Canadian border, near the base of Italian Peak. Chet
Arnold bought it with Mac’s money, used it on occasion, and generally kept it
as his own with the understanding Mac might need it someday. It wasn’t
luxurious but it was comfortable.

Kaiya grew distant while she finished her
cereal. Her upbeat mood had swung down. No surprise, it was a lot to handle
even for him. She was probably thinking of Austin.

“Mac, let’s check out
the laptop. It could hold clues to who is behind all this.”

So much for reading
distant looks. “Sheez. Alright, break it out. But no internet. I want to see
the note from the hacker.”

She nearly leapt to
the case, pulled out the laptop, and set it up on the table. He switched sides
to keep an eye on things. It didn’t take long for her to locate a folder named
‘hackershit’. Inside it, a readme file
contained the message from the hacker.

He read it and
grunted. “Guy’s got balls. Sends a message to say, ‘Here’s something that is
going to screw up your life big time. See you around!’ Amazing.”

She scanned the
directory. “Okay, here are the two files. Check out the introduction. This is
what made me worry.”

He read the text
interspersed with the squares. “Well, it’s definitely a warning. I imagine Austin
wishes he’d taken it now.”

“I know he figured out
the key to the encryption. His notes file should have it.” She scrolled down.
“Yep, here it is.”

She used the key and the file opened for
browsing. She read aloud the original email from Darren Blythe to [email protected].
As bizarre as it looked at first glance, it made a kind of sense now. Whoever
had been tracking Darren had put the fear of God in him. Kaiya fell quiet after
reading the message.

“Any direct emails
from the hacker to Austin?” he asked.

“He didn’t mention any
and his notes don’t say. Let me check.” She brought up Austin’s email client and scanned the inbox. “No,
nothing. This is all old stuff.”

She closed the mail
program and re-read Austin’s notes. “Well, there’s forty parts to the file and
he only got two. Here’s the program that downloads them. And here’s the email
address for the guy who sent it.”

Mac exhaled heavily
and looked at the freemail.com address. The only possible lead to where the
file came from stared back at him from the screen. Kaiya eyed him expectantly.

He shrugged. “What?
What would you say to him, Kaiya? He doesn’t know where Austin is.”

She shook her head. “I
don’t know, Mac. Maybe he does? Maybe he’s been broadcasting this file around.
Maybe the media will pick it up. Then we could come forward and get help. These
people are powerful, yeah, but they’re obviously afraid of this going public.
If that happens the lid will blow clear off and we won’t have to hide. I can’t
stand having to hide.”

It was difficult to
deflate her hopes but he had to speak the truth. “Kaiya, be prepared to wait.
Even if a lid does come off, it won’t happen overnight. You can bet your
breakfast on that. The first editor or producer from any reputable media outlet
to even think of posting a story about whatever’s in the file would be shot
down so fast... I’m sorry, I just don’t see it happening. Not if it’s as revealing
as it must be.”

“But what if it goes
viral?”

“It would have to be
bulletproof. Even then it might go big only to be ridiculed. Elaborate hoaxes
are devised all the time. Unless there is some seriously credible and damning
evidence in there, it might never break. Even then, counter-information can
easily dissemble genuine truths. Most people don’t want to be removed from
their comfort zones. Trust me on that one.”

“Okay, okay, I see
your point. But again I say, something in this file is incredibly important to
them or they wouldn’t be trying so hard to control it. That’s leverage! I think
if it gets out, there will be real consequences, real change. And they know
it.”

Real consequences of what nature?
She was reaching for stars from the top of a
hay bale, unaware of the distances involved or of the danger of falling.

She closed the laptop.
“You don’t agree and you’re already thinking of something else.”

“I’m just not sure
letting the file go viral is the right approach. The consequences may actually
be more harmful than good. And yes, I’m thinking of something else.”

“What?”

He stood and cleared
their bowls from the table. “I’m thinking of who could be have grabbed Austin.
Remember, Crawford and Vasco had no reason to rough you up if they had him. And
if they did, he wouldn’t hold out more than five minutes with the techniques we
use for interrogation.” He met her uneasy glance. “Point is, they would have
located the laptop already and wouldn’t need you. Someone else has Austin.”

She looked at him. “Or
maybe those two killed him before he told them the laptop’s location and
thought I might know where it is.”

There was nothing to
say to such a sobering thought. A gutsy, realistic consideration, though grim;
another reason to admire her.

“Mac, I want to check
on my mom. I need to let her know
something
.
She has to know to defend herself and why.”

“Yes, I get that. I’ll
need to think of a way to reach her without exposing ourselves.” He rubbed his
temple and closed his eyes. Thinking was getting harder and harder.

She stood up. “Get
some sleep, Mac. I didn’t get any earlier so I’ll try again. There’s an alarm
on the nightstand. I’ll take the couch.”

He eyed the laptop.

She noticed and
frowned. She powered it off, pulled the plug, and handed it to him. “So, how
about that trust, eh?”

Chastised, he replied,
“You take the bed, I want to be near the door. Set the alarm four hours out.”
He pulled his M9 from its holster and set it on the floor by the couch.

“Right.” She turned
and walked towards the bedroom, tossing her crumpled napkin in the trash.

He peeked through the
curtains at the park. Everything appeared quiet. He double-checked the doors
and windows before stretching out on the couch. Within minutes, sleep came to
claim him.

• • •

Austin flopped onto
the bed he’d slept in the night before. Marcel settled on the other bed while
Meng took up sentry in the doorway.

The situation was now
approaching freefall, the direction and speed decided by powers beyond him.
Moments before he agreed to take a pill that would facilitate his experience in
the ‘next step’. What exactly was to happen Marcel wouldn’t reveal. He would
only say that he would dream. If trust was misplaced, he may never get to
realize it.