Chaos Theory (Cosmic Lovely)

Chapter Six

The door slammed open, and a muscular body crowded the doorway. “I found something,” Max bellowed. He shut the door, waited, and then shook his head. “Your parental units are too understanding. If the A.I. in my house logged a male in Madeleine’s bedroom closing the door the alarms would go insane.”

“Madeleine’s four years old,” Kali grumbled. Up to the chin in the bedcovers, she squinted at the time projected onto the wall. “I’d go nuts if some strange man was in her room.” She scooted over, and Max sprawled out on the bed beside her.

He took out his TalkMe, fingers swiping lazily. The harsh glare of the artificial light had Kali tucking her face into his arm. She loved it when he let her snuggle, he was like a big teddy.

He prodded her stomach. “I’m going to message you the blog I found.”

“Read it aloud.” When Max started talking, she pinched him. “The last update, not the feed address.” She yawned, her jaw cracking. Jamming the heels of her palms into her eye sockets, Kali rubbed hard. “Do I have my ComUni in bed with me? And what does quadrant U stand for? Which quadrant is the blogger’s BeepMe ID registered?”

“U stands for Untraceable. That’s what’s interesting about this feed. This citizen is blocking his BMID from the network making him anonymous. No one can trace the wave mark. You’re bounced a link to the address of an empty junkyard in Quadrant18.”

“We know it’s a he because…?”

“I can tell. Where’s your TalkMe?”

Kali waved a hand toward the discarded clothes. Depression had knocked her flat after another rejected employment application. Sleeping off the hurt was more attractive than crying. Folding clothes, and removing the TalkMe hadn’t been high on the to-do-list when she tumbled into bed. “There somewhere. Wait, nobody knows who this citizen is?” That was strange. Privacy of that magnitude didn’t exist. Citizens of the Alliance were registered in the BeepMe network. Period. It was unifying. Knowing an identifying username was the only way you were able to communicate unless you stood face to face.

“Isn’t the A.I. synchronized into house functions?” Max asked. “Ask it to read it out to us.”

“The A.I. has been programmed to speak in emergencies. Papa doesn’t like the intrusion into daily life.”

Insults were mumbled.

Kali shot him an evil look and nudged him with the heel of her foot.

“Standard, listen to this.” Max cleared his throat. “There are others like me. I pass them in the street. We gather knowledge and store it away for some unknown purpose. I don’t think we’re all information hoarders. Some of us are fighters gifted with intelligence and superior physical ability. Combine unprecedented skills of reasoning you are left with a warrior more deadly than humankind could create. These clandestine soldiers are more deluded than the ones who seek information. At least we recognise what we’re doing is strange. They are being trained, conditioned, and regimented in ways I cannot begin to–”

“Max,” Kali groaned. “What space crap is this?”

“Some doomsday feed that’s getting millions of hits. This citizen believes a massive world event is going to happen. He says certain people around the planets feel it too, and are preparing without realising it.”

“Stars, it’s just some moon mad conspiracy theory.”

“It’s connected to you, to what you can do.”

From the corner of her eye, she slanted a considering look at him. He sounded sincere. “Gut feelings?”

He nodded, solemn. “Big gut feelings.”