False Idols - Published Version

Chapter 8

"What the hell do you expect us to do?" demanded Sarah. "We barely know how to use these things."

"You're better than anything else we've got," responded Willy grimly as he strapped her into the cooling chair. Over his shoulder, Sarah could see Rad typing passwords into the console, apparently opening a connection to the multinet from the normally isolated servers at the ranch.

Dr. Lee burst into the room. "Don't tell me you're connecting them now! It's too early."

Willy clenched his jaw and looked at Rad.

"Really doctor, what's the worst that could happen?" demanded Rad without looking up from his console.

"You've heard about that girl in California who killed her family when she first connected. We need to stage this process carefully and—"

"Your advice is noted. Return to your station in the clinic."

"Willy, what's going to happen to me?" asked Sarah. Run! Run away Sarah! She heard her mother gasping.

Willy was checking the restraints on Michael's cooling chair, which faced hers. "Nothing's going to happen, Sarah."

Michael was sitting still, staring at the ground. "We'll be fine, Sarah," he said, just before Willy slipped a rubber mouth guard between his teeth.

"Connect them," ordered Rad.

Willy took a hair-thin network cable and leaned down behind Michael's immobilized head. After a moment, a green light set into the headrest flicked on. Michael's eyes rolled up inside his head and he shook violently in his restraints.

Willy stepped over to Sarah's side. "I'm sorry you have to see that, Sarah. It's just a normal muscular reaction. Nothing to worry about."

"No, no! Please, Willy!"

Willy hesitated. Rad stepped over from the console and forced strong fingers into the sides of Sarah's face, forcing her jaws open. He shoved the rubber mouth guard between her teeth. Then he seized the network cable out of Willy's hands. "Connecting Fenton."

***

Tracy Cruz stood up in frustration at her CEO's statement. "Eric, there's no way we're going to get that regulation changed, energy crisis or not."

Eric stood up behind his desk. "Dammit, Tracy, we need these changes or the whole pipeline will go under. You're our in-house lawyer. Get it done."

"For the regulatory changes you want, you don't need a lawyer. You need a miracle."

"I could hire three roughnecks for what I pay you. You'd better get me some results, or I'll find a better use for your salary!"

"You know what, Eric, you don't need to threaten to fire me anymore. Because I quit."

Knowing she would regret it later but too incensed to care, Tracy pushed her way out of Eric Romero's spartan office and into the cinderblock building that housed it. She ran a hand through her raven black hair and looked around her. Only four of the dozen desks were occupied, and those staff members were staring intently at their computer terminals, evidently trying to avoid her. They must have overheard the shouting from Eric's office.

Tracy marched out of the Kerrville, Texas headquarters of Southwest Pipelines Inc., and over to the crowded rack where she had parked her bike. Not many people could afford to drive cars anymore, whether electric or gasoline powered. The Hurricane Reactor had just been a prototype, and its destruction had virtually no impact on energy production in the United States. But its failure meant that future energy prices would be high, which drove up prices in the present.