Virus (on hold indefinitely)

Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – “Take Your Son to Work Day”

June 9, 2071

Jax

“Maybe it’s through this door?”

We were lost, to put it simply. We were hopelessly and completely turned around in the hallways of a gigantic glass behemoth towering over New Queens. Sixty three floors below us, I could sort of make out indistinct shapes of bicycles and even outdated cars, but the most popular mode of transportation, by far, was by foot.

It was one of my favorite things about New Queens. No matter where point A was and where point B was, you could get there easily by walking. Of course, with cases like my brother, it was much easier to take the trolley from point A to point B, especially because they offered free wheelchair service.

“Jax,” a whisper came from below me, “should I test this door—or do you think it’s booby-trapped or something?”

I rolled my eyes. “Thane, you’re watching too much of those old spy movies—what were they called? Thames Pond?”

“It’s James Bond, thank you very much, and they’re classics, Jax. Something you and your fancy-shmancy Final Destination 79 wouldn’t understand.” I placed a hand over my chest dramatically, pretending to swoon.

“Ouch, that one wounded me. At least I don’t watch century-old movies about some lame guy who isn’t even played by the same person.”

Thane clicked his teeth together, something he did when he was angry. Then, through gritted jaws, he muttered, “Okay, Mr. Future, but should we go through here?” I ruffled Thane’s brown hair affectionately.

“We’ve only tried every other door in this hallway—this has got to be the right one. If it’s not, I’ll eat my best Sunday hat.”

Thane pulled out something from inside his pocket; a golden key card with the inscription, Power is key, written in fancy lettering. “He doesn’t even have a Sunday hat, never mind a best one,” I heard him murmuring.

The door in front of us looked identical to all the others in this hallway—the only difference was that it looked like there was once a plaque on the wood, and then someone had simply unscrewed it and taken it away, albeit sloppily.

With a smooth move, the card was inside the slot and Thane was trying to turn the handle. Much to our surprise, however, it clicked open, as if it hadn’t even been shut properly in the first place. That should have been our first clue.

We strode in confidently, hoping that somehow it would be our father’s office. Of course, it wasn’t—instead, it was an empty one, with a giant window. That was the first strange quality of this room—it shouldn’t have had just one window. The entire building was made of glass with steel lattice infrastructure, so it didn’t make sense for it to be confined to one window. Instead, it should have had an entire wall of window.

The other strange attribute was the bookcases. I had barely even seen books in my life; after all, the education board got rid of paper textbooks long ago, back in the 2030s. The only reason I had ever encountered a book was because my dad thought it was good to show his kids what life was like when he was younger. I had read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, the Harry Potter series, and the Lord of the Rings trilogy, which happened to be my dad’s favorite books as a kid.

My brother had read solid, hardbound books as well, but both he and I agreed that techbooks were better than textbooks.

Thane rolled his wheelchair farther into the office, trying to avoid the expensive-looking Oriental rug in the middle of the floor—rugs were killer on wheelchairs, especially shaggy ones like the one in the office. He approached the grand mahogany desk tentatively, moving along the edge to where a high-backed chair stood proudly against the lone window’s illumination. A glass Netscreen was on the desk, and, I noted carefully, it was a Power model, top of the line.