Zone 33

1 - Wavy

"Mom, MOM!" A screeching alarm bashes his cranium from the inside.

"God dammit!" Minele jolts awake. Never gets old. He flings his head back and forth to let it settle. The dizziness. That never gets old either. The one from a fist to his own head every morning at 5:30am. He can't help it. He dreams hard, and the piercing alarm from his brain chip broadcast causes the reflex. He has no choice. No one in Zone 33 has a choice. Or the inhabitants of the other zones while you're at it. They broadcast alarm tones, 'emergency' messages - whatever that means anymore - and anything else they feel the need to.

Everybody got chipped when the Global Ministry took over. When the United States - New York - to be exact, was his home. Just a decade ago, but it feels like eons. When he had a semblance of freedom to clutch on to as everything was crumbling around him. The same dream appears over and over, sometimes nightly. When his mom first called.

"I'm not freaking messing around, Minele! Check the damn link!" She cried. He opened his social media feed.

"Deep fake." He uttered arrogantly.

"Shut the hell up, Minele! I don't have time for your woke crap right now!"

She was doing it again. Speaking every word with so much force. Running out of breath near the end of her sentence. Must be serious. She did it often too, near the...The other end.

"It's all over the news." She pleaded for a moment of prudent discernment. He was a loose canon.

Minele waltzed over to the bedroom to find his Lifeline. Everyone had one. A keychain-sized projector that turned every surface into a television. A few corporations were 'upset' over its debut. But that's for another day. He pulled up the news on the wall.

"For New York First Eye News, we bring you this special emergency broadcast from President Johnson." He went on to explain it all. NASA documents leaked, yadi-yadi-ya. CIA director in hot water, blah blah. Extraterrestrial signals bouncing back from several of the major SETI hubs at faster rates. Mmhm. Minele didn't know. How hindsight is a bastard.

"Hello? Did you see it?" His mom asked, her voice on razor's edge. Silence. All he felt was the tickling sweat running down his forehead.

"Minele, I'm going to drive over there right now and kick in your door."

"Yeah. I'm seeing it." He murmured.

"And? What the hell do we do?" Her anger was fading to an audible despair.

"I..." He felt a tear form from the sheer chill. If there was such a thing as a spiritual awakening, this was it. He gathered himself.

"We hear this stuff all the time. It doesn't mean there are..." Minele couldn't say it.

"When the hell have we heard about SETI signals closing in distance?" His mom yelled.

Since his dad had died, they had formed a bond over space. He worked at NASA. Always preached about 'them'. That he felt it. Their presence in the skies. It didn't help the matter when the psychological operation happened. Minele and his mom were predisposed to believing their existence. Dad had made an imprint with his wild speculations.

After his passing, Minele would pick her up a few times a year, driving upstate where there was no light pollution. They would stare out his SUV's glass moonroof, pulling up live data about the nearest signals from SETI hubs.

The Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence branched out from California after the signals started to flood their networks. Or so they said. With NASA's help, they built satellite offices - hubs if you will - all over the country. Apparently, so did every other nation with any sort of real clout.

At that point, Minele and his mom were nearly obsessed with alien life. It kept Gary's memory alive and well when they stared into the deep, dark night, letting their imaginations roam free. It cost him a couple of relationships, but he didn't care. Space nights would not be missed.

"Guess you're right. Their distance is usually constant. Mom, I'm actually a little scared." Minele said shakily.

"You're 35. Get it together. I'm coming over right now. I can't be here alone Minele. Tell them to piss off."

How did she know every time? Minele turned off the Lifeline and checked his phone with his mom still on.

Her message read, "I'm ten minutes away! Can't wait to see you!" Crap. He quickly texted back, "So sorry Clara, got called in last minute. Rain check?" He was a healthcare IT guy. Operated all the radiology databases for a few New York hospitals. She was persistent, this one. The others would move on after he held them up the second time. This one really seemed like a keeper. But he did make good coin, and the terror over the news was real. This time, disappointing her was justified.

"Hello? Minele! I'm out the door! You can ignore me if you want." His mom yelled. He held the phone back up to his ear, "Had to text Clara. She was almost here dammit! Come. But Mom?"

"Leaving the condo lot, be there in fifteen." She said with heavy breaths. Urgency resonated the phone.

"Mom, MOM!" Minele exclaimed. She had already hung up. He just wanted a sub on her way over.

The dream always ends there. Like a looping sample overplayed by a DJ, but perfectly timed. Just so he yells for her as they broadcast the migraine-inducing tone. Especially today. His head pounds with every heartbeat. And like clockwork every morning, he has his flashback from the day they chipped him immediately after waking up. When Zone 33 was officially declared, and New York as he knew it was dead. After he stopped hearing from Clara. When they forced him into a dark room with bright spotlights in the middle.
When they strapped him in and administered the intravenous sedative. Does not remember much after that. He had woken up in his bed with a pulsating migraine. Same one he feels from the alarm clock every morning.

Minele stumbles out of bed, flinging his hand to relieve his aching fist, sensing a rush of waviness. He's certain it's from the chip, not the punch. His mind hasn't felt the same after commencing service to the chip. Precisely what it feels like. The chips run them in Zone 33, and they have no way to control it. The game was rigged ever since the first announcement from President Johnson.

To be continued...