Cassandra Chronicles

Today was the twentieth anniversary of her parents’ death, and she hadn’t once been to their gravesite. Not that she hadn’t tried. They lay buried somewhere in a mass grave hidden by the wind and sand of the expanding Sahara.

Many who survived the horror of the pandemic underwent Extinction Therapy. That’s what they called the painless procedure to kill a painful memory. A micro-shock simply erased the neurons storing the emotional context of the targeted event. She’d recall only the facts and forget the flood of tears that came from her gut-wrenching loss.

Cassandra nearly considered it, but the pain became a vital part of her. Pain powered her drive to become an eco-warrior like her parents. They led the Society of Scientists who stood like Spartans at the pass of Thermopylae to protect their planet. Now she had to confront the pain again, and the man who betrayed their life’s work. The man she’d almost fallen in love with.

She signaled for an aircab from the fortieth floor platform of her apartment complex. They usually buzzed around her building like a swarm of angry yellow jackets, but another digital terrorist attack took down the android control center. Only a few human cabbies would risk the dangerous corridors of the NYC skyway for the outrageous fare they could charge. To make matters worse, the first rain in four weeks was turning the thick pollutive dust on the polycarbon transport dome to grey sludge.

She wondered what the androids would do when there’s no one left to serve. Most weren’t too bright, but turns out neither were their masters.

A cabbie caught her iCom’s signal, darted down and skidded to a stop under the dome.

“Hop in lady. Where to?”

“Trump Tower at Park Avenue.”

She noted the fifty-unicredit fare premium as she pressed the pin code into her iCom to approve the debit to her account. The automatic door barely closed before the driver took off and made a banked right turn around the building.

“I need clearance to drop you off. The last driver who forgot was recycled along with his crushed cab. Who’re you visiting?”

“Richard Strausen. But no need to interrupt him, I’m on their list.”

Richard was the Vice Chairperson of the United Nations Environmental Crises (UNEC) committee that co-funded her research. He truly seemed to care about the cause and eventually charmed her into spending the night. That night led to a heated yearlong affair during frequent trips from her research lab in Costa Rica.

The cabbie glanced at the vid panel as it verified her identity and forwarded the request to Trump security. Approved flashed in bright green letters under her picture. She was a bit of a looker, but wasn’t dressed to the nines like most women he took to the Tower. Of course, some were high-priced professionals who’d cost him a month’s wages for even an hour of their time. For an average Joe like him, the sex androids were a better bargain.

“Your friend must be well-connected. They say it takes twenty million minimum just to get on the list for a unit in that place.”

“Sorry, can you please hurry? I’m running late.”

“Sure. It’ll only be ten minutes tops.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you hear the rumor about another outbreak in Tat territory? Damn scientists should’ve known better and let The Guard burn them all the first time. The market’s already down another thousand. Hell, I’ll never see retirement at this rate.”

She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat and stared out the window. The complaining cabbie droned on, but her mind was somewhere else.  Her parents were among those scientists who dedicated their lives to defending the environment. She spent her childhood with them on one expedition after another. Each new country became her outdoor classroom, and she loved it.

They eventually sent her off to boarding school to prepare for college. The rebel within her hated the structure of an indoor school and she ran off on spring break to New Zealand with her eco-artist boyfriend. She expected a lecture when her mom saw the colorful body art he’d inked along the contour of her back shoulder. Instead, she commented on the connected earth symbolism of the flowering branches. That was Mom, full of surprises, but always the passionate and patient teacher. Dad on the other hand had her doing most of the camp chores that entire summer spent in the Outback. With Dad, it was more about the trip alone with the older boyfriend than the tattoo.

She gradually adjusted to school while boyfriends took a backseat to her new passion for a meaningful career. Her parents were so proud when she started work on a doctorate in environmental science at MIT. The horrifying news of their death came only a month later. They were on an ecological expedition that became ground zero of the pandemic.

Her best friend Carol managed to get her through the aftermath of the emotional train wreck. She then took a leave from school, volunteering to treat patients within the African death camps by day, and bent over a computer at night to help analyze why every treatment was failing. The disease eventually died out with the severe measures of isolation and a new vaccine - after they burned and buried over a hundred million bodies.

Nearly a billion more were doomed to carry the dormant virus. In the name of public safety, the CDCs implanted a microchip under a tattooed barcode on the side of their neck. She hated the term “Tats” that tagged them as the lowest caste of society and placed them in invisible chains of the chip that tracked their every step.

They lived under two simple rules, don’t venture beyond the restricted zone after a work shift and don’t make direct contact with a normal citizen. The first violation brought searing pain from a robotic taser, and the second even more pain in an isolated prison cell. A rare third-strike infraction brought a maximum force laser blast that turned the Tat to dust and bits of bone. No judge or jury, just a computer-calculated justice delivered by the nearest street cop sent to the scene.

“The rain’s letting up,” the cabbie announced.

She gazed down below where the Tat’s did the day labor no one else would do. They returned by nightfall to the restricted zone and tenement homes where they washed down the government provided meal with tainted drinking water that shortened their lifespan with each sip. On scorching city streets across the planet, a billion misplaced beings no longer fit the new world order of the year 2067.

“We’re here.”

The aircab slid into a domed landing platform mid way up the tower. Richard’s platinum level apartment was fourteen floors above.

A stone-faced security guard watched her through the bulletproof end of the double-door entrance. The retinal scanner verified her identity and he let her through the first set of doors. She placed her hand on a panel that pricked her fingertip with an invisible nano-needle. If the system found any trace of the virus, she’d be laser dust within seconds.

She stood before the full body scanner and the guard smiled as he surveyed every naked inch of her for weapons. He opened the second set of doors and motioned her through to the lobby with its expansive skyline view and ultra private club.

“Welcome back Ms. Kincade. It’s been a while.”

“Thanks Sam.”

“Do you still have your passkey?”

Sam gave her that look he must have given dozens of women who’d had the privilege taken away by their rich boyfriends.

Damn, even he knows. Guess I’m the last one to find out where Richard really was.

“Of course.”

She hurried into the waiting elevator and pressed the icon on her iCom to send the encrypted passkey to the building security system. Richard’s floor flashed on the panel as the doors closed. Fortunately, he hadn’t changed the code. She was looking forward to the look on his face when she confronted him.

Richard returned late last night from a two-week business trip that she discovered was really a honeymoon on Paradise Island, a heavily fortified oasis for the ultra rich. An old friend told her that he’d married a wealthy socialite back in his hometown of Boston - and that there was far more to the arrangement. The bride’s father had introduced Richard to contacts who could take him and his new family to the rarified level and life of billionaires. All he had to do was direct contracts to their companies for water treatment, oxygen regeneration, and other projects proposed by the UNEC.

The elevator opened to the ultra-art-deco styled hallway, complete with security cameras hidden behind the digital wall art. She walked to his apartment at the end of the hall and pressed the passkey to open the electronic lock on the carbon-nanotube reinforced door. It all seemed a bit overdone to her, but the rich spared no expense for their security these days.

The apartment was dead quiet. Of course, she smirked; he’d become really anal about his daily routine and must still be down in the gym. Even sex had to fit within his tight schedule lately. The last time she slept over, he dressed and left without even a goodbye while she was still in the shower. Her gut told her right then it was time to break it off.

The sexy feminine voice of his computer brought her focus back to the empty room as it announced the arrival of a high priority incoming text message. She thought - that’s not like him to leave his computer unsecured.

She walked around his custom designed digi-desk to peek at the data displayed within its translucent surface. The upper right section of the desk contained a message from a high-level executive of a well-known water and air purification company. The executive thanked Richard for his support and acknowledged the two million unicredit “consulting fee”. All he needed was Richard’s bank routing code and number for the offshore account. She had a better idea, and put the photographic memory inherited from her dad to good use. She replied to the message with account information from her mom’s volunteer work with Save the Children foundation. Perhaps Richard might make a positive contribution to the planet after all, she mused.

A minute later he showed up, surprised to see her standing in front of his desk.  Her icy expression told him she’d somehow gotten word of the marriage. He was about to lay out another lie to convince her to stay with him, or at the very least avoid being kicked across the room. He learned the hard way she could be as dangerous as she was beautiful when he once joked about her black belt in Hwa Rang Do. She challenged him to meet her at the gym to demonstrate it was more than just another faddish exercise class. He was fortunate only his male ego was broken, the bruises on his taped ribs hurt for a week. 

He started to plead his case, “Cas, let me . . .”

She stopped him before he could get another word out.

“I don’t want to hear another damn lie from you. I believed in you despite a warning from my closest friend - and that’s my mistake. Cheating on me is one thing, but to cheat all those who depend on our work is criminal.”

She then glanced down at his desk with a raised brow. He raced over and leaned in for a closer look. His eyes filled with vampire rage from the eerie red reflection of the desk’s security warning light. His jaw cracked from the tension as he prepared to pounce over the desk and strangle her. She wasn’t afraid and her defiant stance dared him to duel with her over the indiscretion
.
“Cas, what the hell have you done!”

“You just made a sizable contribution to a very needy cause.”

He tried to contain his rage as his mind raced. If she exposed the connection, it would destroy his career and his life. The man who backed this deal took care of mistakes and you didn’t want to be one.

“I can explain . . .”

“Don’t bother. I’m sure you can come up with a plausible reason to submit your resignation. Then we can be done with this whole affair. And life goes on, if we’re lucky.”

He saw it was no use to try defending his actions, so he went on offense.

“Cas, don’t be naïve. You think this all ends with me? I’m just a maintenance man for the money machine that produces the real power in this world. The committee members owe their souls to those who possess that power. It’s not as if we’re blocking progress, just redirecting some of the profits. Everyone wins.”

“You know as well as I that’s just plain bull shit.”

“Well if you know what’s good for you, and your research project, you’ll remain quiet. Several of the members already suggested that I replace you. They’re concerned you aren’t a team player.”

She shook off the warning. “You can’t make that decision. Only the chairperson has that authority . . .”

She stopped mid-sentence as a thin smile crossed his face. Of course, they’ve made him the new chair.

“That’s right, I’m the new chair. Howard was retired. He was developing a conscience and they couldn’t afford the liability.”

“Who are they?”

“That knowledge could prove very unhealthy. We’ll consider your recommendations Friday on this latest crisis. And, I’ll see that you’re granted a generous budget increase for your lab.”
She realized he had control, for now. She’d have to take the offer or they’d replace her with someone who’d play the game entirely by their rules. There was too much at stake and no time to lose.

“Okay we have a deal. But if you dare cross me again, the press will get a copy of the message. I forwarded it to a friend for insurance.”

“What about the money you diverted?”

“Consider it a non-refundable down payment. Besides, you don’t need it now with a wealthy wife to support you.”

She enjoyed that final jab as she turned, walked out the door and got on the elevator for the transport platform. On the brief ride down, she realized what she had to do next. The doors opened and she rushed over to the guard station.

“Sam, please call me a cab.”

She ejected the passkey chip from her iCom and tossed it to him. “I won’t need this anymore.”

The control center was back online and a sleek android driven aircab landed within seconds. She got in and ordered the android to take her to Penn Station.

She needed to talk to Kate. She’d been her mom’s dearest friend, and stepped in as her godmother and mentor after the tragedy. She owed her career and so much more to Kate. She was the only one who’d understand what was at stake beyond Richard’s betrayal. The rumor of another viral outbreak was true and it would make the last one seem like the common cold.

“Take the roundabout way and make sure we aren’t followed,” she ordered.

The aircab did a roller coaster like loop over and into the reverse lane, then exited and dived along a secondary route between buildings. The maneuver made her glad she’d skipped breakfast, but at least they’d lose anyone Richard might order to follow her. A few minutes later, the aircab stopped at the station and she hopped aboard the first bullet train bound for Boston. From there, she’d arrange a private jet-copter to Kate’s cabin in northern Maine.


**** Please visit www.robertlsquires.com to preview Chapters 2 and 3.