Blake Schwendiman's Blog and Blook

Chapter 40

Saturday, 12 March 2022 – 7:00 p.m. SAST

Daniel spent most of the day sleeping and rummaging through Brad’s home. He had scanned for wireless electronics a few times, but never found anything. He assumed that if there were any computers, they must be powered off or simply not connected to the net.

At three p.m. Daniel started to grow weary of waiting. The African had told him that they should be returning at about that time. Four additional hours passed before Daniel finally heard the sound of a car approaching.

Outside, the African watched as a car turned into the drive toward the small home. He had been waiting all day for his payment and his patience had waned. He followed the car on foot and stayed out of sight. He felt he needed to protect his investment and would ensure that he was properly paid.

Inside, Daniel heard the thump of car doors then footsteps and voices. He sat in the living room. The door opened and Brad made eye contact with him. Anupama stood immediately behind Brad gasping as she entered. Brad turned immediately.

“It’s okay,” he reassured. “He won’t be staying long.”

Anupama wasn’t convinced. Daniel wasn’t what she had expected to see. He looked more like a pop musician than a software developer. He was wearing khaki shorts and a shirt that only passed as such in the academic sense. It covered very little of Daniel’s torso providing a clear display of his numerous tattoos. His face had an unsettling devilish appearance.

“Hello Brad,” Daniel called. “How are you?”

Brad turned and glared. “I’ve been expecting you.” He turned to Anupama and whispered, “Can you give us a minute?” Anupama looked worried, but agreed.

“So, you know why I’m here then?” Daniel sat with his feet up.

Brad knew exactly why Daniel had come. “I don’t have it anymore.”

“That’s not good enough Brad. The fact that it exists at all is a problem. We need to fix that problem, so I need you to tell me where it is.”

Brad had no intention of giving anything to Daniel. It was true that he had commissioned the development of a device while he was at Naidu. He had been obsessed at the time. He didn’t have authorization to do it, but he was driven. He found a developer inside the team that he could trust and he paid her on the side to help him. Eventually they succeeded. He took the technology when he left.

“I don’t have it.”

“I’ve heard you say that already. What I’m saying is that I need to know where it is.” Daniel shifted slightly in the chair, just enough to reveal the weapon he carried.

“Are you threatening me?” Brad asked. He had moved from the doorway to the living room. He felt surprisingly calm, considering what he knew was about to happen.

“No,” Daniel responded in a condescending tone. He picked up the weapon and let Brad get a good look at it. “This?” he asked. “This is just for self defense. You never know who you might run into in Durban.”

Anupama had been watching from the bedroom. At the sight of the gun she burst into the room with a shriek. “No!” she called. “Brad, we have to go. Please. Let’s just go.” She turned toward the door.

“No!” he called as she pulled the door open. He jumped up and rushed after her. He tried to grab her, but she was a few steps ahead of him. “Anupama, wait,” he cried.

Daniel rushed to follow. He had not expected the reaction. He had no intention of hurting Brad or Anupama. He had come only to obtain and destroy the device. For all their differences, Daniel had always respected Brad. Brad was the most consistent person he knew, even if they didn’t agree on much.

As Anupama reached the edge of the porch, Brad heard the piercing whiz of a bullet. Thump. Anupama spun. Her eyes filled with horror as she crashed down on the steps just out of reach of her husband. He rushed to grab her. Thump. Brad felt a piercing sting, then the flow of warm blood over his chest. He clutched Anupama and watched the life slip from her eyes.

He looked across the garden to see a small African man pointing a gun at him and shouting in Xhosa. There was another pop, this time from behind. The African spun and fell. Brad craned his neck around to see Daniel lowering his own gun and shouting.

Daniel looked down. Brad gasped for a breath and wheezed, “You did this to yourselves.”

Brad was still holding a set of keys. Both the car he drove and the house he lived in were still locked and unlocked with manual metal keys. It wasn’t the keys that Daniel noticed, though. On the chain was a small remote device, an old radio frequency transmitter. Brad pushed the button. The chain fell to the step.

Daniel’s eyes widened. He activated his implants and stared into his visual overlay. His shoulders fell limp and he staggered to the rail to support himself. Physical weakness overcame him as he realized the implications of the information streaming through his view.

“No,” he whispered to himself as he collapsed onto the porch.

Chapter 39

Saturday, 12 March 2022 – 3:30 p.m. SAST

Brad and Anupama spent the majority of the day helping finish the interior of two new homes. Dozens of volunteers helped in the painting, tiling and carpeting of the homes. As always, Brad and his wife worked in the same area of the homes so they could be close and talk. Even after years of marriage, they always found something to discuss.

Brad seemed to be distracted today. Anupama tried several conversation topics, but nothing stuck. Eventually Brad would drift off into a thoughtfulness that Anupama did not recognize.

“Brad, are you sure you’re okay today?” she asked several times. Each time the answer was the same.

“Yes,” he would reply then follow with “I love you so much.”

They spoke briefly about the tragedy in Karachi, then of local politics and of the weather. By noon there was a serene stillness about them both. The work party broke just after three p.m.

“Do you mind if we go downtown before we go home?” Brad asked as they loaded into their car. Brad usually didn’t like to go out. It was particularly unusual that he would want to go downtown before cleaning up, but Anupama could sense that Brad needed something.

“That would be fine,” she answered.

He started the car. There was an initial squeak in the engine as it turned over.

“We really need to get that checked,” Anupama commented. “This car may not last much longer.”

Brad smiled. She was right, but he knew that it wouldn’t matter tomorrow.

There was silence for a moment as Brad weaved through the residential streets toward the highway. “I may be getting a visit from an old friend,” Brad said as nonchalantly as he could. He had spent most of the day trying to decide if he was going to say anything at all.

Anupama felt that this was not good news. “Who?” she asked.

“An old coworker from India named Daniel.” Brad tried to sound upbeat about the information. He glanced over to read Anupama’s expression. She was clearly concerned. The truth was, Brad didn’t actually know much about the cause of his death, but he felt that it would involve Daniel. He assumed that eventually they would discover what he had taken from Naidu when he left.

“He’s not visiting on holiday, is he?”

“No, if he comes it will be work related.” Brad tried to force a smile. Anupama started to say something, but he cut her off. “I wanted to go down to the market, pick up a few things and maybe grab a bunny.”

Anupama knew that Brad always loved to visit the Victoria Street Market with its eclectic offerings and bustle. It was the only place that Brad liked to go that was busy. He always liked to walk past the spot where they had first met and reminisce about all the changes in their lives since then. And he always enjoyed a bunny chow, the curry-filled half loaf of bread unique to the area. They would usually get one bunny to split and eat it while they observed the crowds of the market.

“That sounds fine,” Anupama commented. “Are you sure things are okay? It seems you’ve been worried today – perhaps about this visitor?”

“It’s nothing. We’ll deal with that if and when it comes.”

There was silence in the car for a few moments. Anupama was concerned, but she knew not to press Brad about his past. He hated discussing it. She knew very little of his work, but she knew that he left for personal moral reasons. She had never considered that he could be in danger for having left, but it crossed her mind as they approached Durban.

“Do you have any regrets in your life?” The question broke the silence. Brad had a gift for jumping from topic to topic without a thread of continuity.

“Sorry?” Anupama asked. The question was so disconnected from her thoughts that she wasn’t sure she had heard him right.

“Any regrets. I mean, do you feel like you missed out on anything? Something you would have liked to have done or experienced?”

Anupama considered her answer. She had always wanted to have children, but they had decided early on in their marriage that they were too old. Brad was forty-four and Anupama was forty-one when they married and though they could safely conceive at that age, they felt that they were not emotionally young enough to properly raise children. They had fully established their lifestyles and they enjoyed their quiet time. But deep inside, it truly was the one regret she had.

“Children,” she said. “But you know that. It’s not so much that I regret our decision, but I do regret that we met so late in our lives.”

Brad reached over and gently took her hand. He felt the same way at times, but he had another motivation for not wanting to bring children into his life. He didn’t want to leave them fatherless at a young age. He smiled at her, but there was nothing he could say.

“What about you?” she asked, changing the subject before the tears started.

“So many,” he answered. “But none since I met you.”

Anupama squeezed his hand. She wondered if he would open up. “Can you tell me about it?”

Brad sighed. “There’s too much to tell. We don’t have the time.” He chuckled and shook his head.

Anupama waited.

“I sometimes just wish I could go back and change it all. Not so much the things that I did, but being involved with those people, those businesses. It was all greed and power and corruption. And I was there in it. If I could go back...”

“But you are not there now,” Anupama reassured. “You chose to leave. And that speaks volumes about your heart. It’s all in the past. Don’t think on it.”

Brad smiled. She was the greatest gift of his life.

They spent a few hours of quiet browsing in Durban and shared a lamb curry bunny chow while enjoying their time together. Eventually Brad realized that his present had caught up to his future. The time to return home had come.

Chapter 38

Saturday, 12 March 2022 – 11:00 a.m. SAST

Ramesh had been traveling for nearly fourteen hours when he awoke to some minor turbulence. He had tried sleeping, reading and watching movies to take his mind off the flying, but it had not been successful. He stretched out in the comfortable leather seat and lifted his eye mask. It was dark.

The green start icon still sat unused in Ramesh’s field of view. He had not been motivated to try his implants since he had left. There had been so many things happening in the past few days that he relished the quiet. He groaned. He still didn’t want to run through the tutorial, but he wasn’t sleeping. He closed his eyes and focused on the pointer. He forced it to start.

Craaaack! Ramesh jumped nearly out of his seat as the auditory implant activated. He slammed his hands to his ears then realized that the sound was coming from inside his head. It had not been particularly loud, but it was initially unnerving. A moment later, a vibrant audio-visual presentation began. It was Valerie’s voice.

“Welcome to the Q-Morrow military-grade a/v implant user tutorial,” she began. Ramesh settled back in his seat. There was still a slight ringing in his head, but it was not particularly distracting. The tutorial provided a vast amount of information. It was broken into segments with practice opportunities throughout. The first segment was dedicated to the user controls and the overall feature set.

After twenty minutes of instruction, Ramesh found that he was able to identify all of the wireless devices on the plane. Most of them belonged to the crew. The implants provided not only information about the existence of the devices, but also the approximate physical location of each. He noticed that many of the devices had inadequate security and he was able to access some mundane information such as phone number lists and camera images. He shook his head and sighed. He had no interest in continuing his electronic voyeurism, but realized how easily this kind of technology could be abused by the general public.

He continued through the training. He found that he had access to the net at large, to databases, libraries and research facilities. He was instantly able to create text messages to be carried either by email or instant messaging. He also had instant access to imagery, video, maps and other media of all types. It was overwhelming. He mused at how quickly he would be able to organize his writing career using the instant accessibility of the implants.

The next portion of the tutorial introduced the text editing capabilities. Using the simple up, down, left, right, forward and backward controls combined with an advanced predictive text algorithm, entering long sections of text was surprisingly easy. Ramesh began by attempting to enter his favorite quote from Gandhi, “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”

He started by selecting the letter t. Then by simply indicating a move to the right, and up, the letter h slid into position. The predictive text algorithm only presented letters that could logically follow the preceding ones. For longer words, the text seemed to nearly flow without any effort. Ramesh was impressed.

He stopped the tutorial and wrote a one-line message to Quinn: “This is amazing technology. –Ram”

He thought again of his writing career. He detoured from the tutorial to see if he could access his home computer directly. Within a matter of a few seconds, he had full remote access. He laughed with the giddiness of a child as he checked his messages, replied to some colleagues and started a draft article for one of his regular columns. The in-flight hours passed much more quickly.

After spending some time experimenting with the implants, he eventually returned to the tutorial. The next segment covered the use of the futurestream. This is not a module that is not usually discussed in the military-grade package, he mused.

He learned far more about the futurestream than he had expected. It was more than simply a stream of information. It was a comprehensive database of information indexed and categorized and scored. Every bit of information was evaluated using not only simple database indexing techniques, but also using natural language algorithms to further categorize and classify the information. Scoring was based on a complex mathematical formula that comprehensively evaluated all relevant information. For each mention of an event in the future, all other similar events were cross-referenced and weighted. The more consistent the events were, the higher the score.

“Few events ever appear with a probability of one hundred percent,” said the recording of Valerie. “This is due to many factors, some of which we have yet to identify. When considering the probability of a future event, consider both the immediacy of the event and the possibility of human interaction with the event. For example, an event listed with a high probability that is to occur within the next hour is very likely to actually occur. Any event in the more distant future is less likely to actually occur unless the impact of human interaction on the event is negligible. Future weather events and geological events are not affected by human interaction. They will happen as listed in the futurestream.

“Completely random future events like lotteries have high probabilities. However, anything that can be affected by any human interaction has a decreasing probability of actually occurring over time. Stock markets are affected by emotional buying or selling conditions. Births, deaths, marriages and other similar events are fully at the mercy of human decision.” The tutorial continued. Ramesh listened intently to the overview section, waiting anxiously to learn how to activate the futurestream so he could explore it.

Finally he found the information he was seeking. He activated the futurestream search. He sat for a moment, contemplating what he might explore. He typed in a name: Quinn Sorensen. There were over fifteen million search results. He tried again: Ramesh Kapoor. This time there were only a few thousand results. He looked at the list. It was organized very much like any network search page. He could sort by relevance or by date or by probability and he could search for results similar to other results.

He glanced through the list. Within the next few hours he saw that he would be mentioned in a few articles related to the International Genomics Consortium. He read the contents of an article and was disappointed to see that it was biased against genomic research. He continued searching his near future. There were some other mundane references and a few references to another person with the same name. At the moment that Ramesh was about to return to the tutorial, one of the results caught his attention.

“...American citizen, Dr. Ramesh Kapoor died at the scene. Local authorities calling this a tragic accident...”

Ramesh read the entire article. His heart pounded as he read an emotionless news story depicting a multiple-vehicle accident on the N3 highway near Pinetown in which he and several other people were killed. The date of the article was tomorrow.

Ramesh felt himself getting sick. He felt his muscles tighten as he tried desperately to control the input device. He couldn’t manage to clear the screen. He began to feel claustrophobic as he scrambled to deactivate the view. He couldn’t help but read the lines over and over. His breathing quickened. He threw off the eye mask and rushed to the lavatory. He fumbled with the lock and then spun around and fell to his knees. For a moment a waves of nausea ebbed. He forced himself to breath.

After a moment, he stood. He stared into the mirror. The article was still in his view. He gained enough composure to clear the screen. The last thing he saw was the probability of the event: sixteen percent.

He breathed. It was all he could do. Several minutes passed as he tried to process what he had seen. He decided to message Quinn.

Quinn, I have encountered a disturbing future event. I apologize for disturbing you, but will appreciate any advice.

Ramesh wasn’t sure how long he might wait for a response. He checked the time. It was just before four a.m. in Phoenix. He washed his hands and face then unlocked the door. A response appeared in his view as he took his seat.

Ramesh, I apologize for not having had more time to prepare you for things such as this. I found the article about your death tomorrow. I assume that’s the event you found? The good news is that it has only 10% probability (by the time you check it again, it will be less, or it will be gone).

Remember that you’re in control of your own future. To avoid this death, simply avoid taking that route. Or go at a different time. The article suggested that the accident occurred at 1 p.m. tomorrow. Go later or earlier – and avoid that area of the freeway.

Feel free to contact me anytime.

Quinn

Ramesh pondered the response. Though he had never given it much serious consideration, he had always believed in a bit of predestination about his own death. At the same time, he realized that he had always believed that something could have been done to save his wife and kids.

Ramesh thought about Brad. He now had a clear understanding of the moral battle that Brad faced every day he worked for Quinn and Sireesha. He sympathized with his old friend. They would have so much to discuss.

Looking out on the world from thirty-thousand feet, Ramesh saw the pale light of dawn stretching over the sky. It would still be several hours before he arrived in Johannesburg, then a few more to Durban. He wondered if it would be possible to access some of his personal music files and listen to them with the implants. In moments he found his collection. He chose a few selections from the Pat Metheny Group, a jazz band from the late twentieth century that he found relaxing. He adjusted the volume of the playback and settled into his chair. Within a few minutes he was asleep.

Chapter 37

Saturday, 12 March 2022 – 7:00 a.m. SAST

Daniel jogged briskly on a treadmill in the hotel fitness center. He had spent most of his time in Durban either at the beach, in the fitness center or at the nightclubs. It had been nearly thirty-six hours since he had commissioned the search for Brad. Throughout the fitness center, International news broadcasters presented a constant loop of images of Karachi intermingled with reports from experts of all kinds. Daniel knew that this was just the beginning.

At seven fourteen a.m. a small indicator flashed in Daniel’s line of sight. It was the beacon. The African had found Brad. Daniel immediately stopped his exercise and went to his room to change. As he did, he called up the position of the beacon and mapped it. The signal originated in Hillcrest, just thirty minutes away.

Not far from the Royal Hotel was Jordaan Motorsports, a dealership of the finest in luxury vehicles. Daniel had spent an hour there yesterday perusing the selection and meeting the staff. They had exactly what he needed.

“Good morning again,” called the young English salesman that he had met yesterday.

“Morning.”

“Have we come for a test drive?”

“No.” Daniel wasn’t the kind of person who test drove. He didn’t waste his time. He knew exactly what he wanted. He knew exactly what it would cost. “I’m here to buy.”

The salesman lit up. “Which of our cars?”

“Not a car. A Volak.” Daniel reached out and ran his hand over the molded frame of a jet-black and chrome motorcycle. It was manufactured by Volak, the Czech manufacturer that had grown into one of the largest motorcycle manufacturers in the world. While most manufacturers had transitioned to electric or hybrid engines, Volak had remained true to the gasoline-engine aficionados.

“Perfect.” The salesman considered for a moment mentioning the excessive pollution tariffs on the Volak, but decided better of it. Daniel didn’t appear to be the kind of buyer that would settle for anything less than the best. “And will you be paying in Rand or Dollars?”

“Dollars.”

“Excellent.”

At seven fifty-six, Daniel raced away from downtown Durban toward Hillcrest. He weaved through traffic along the N3, the national highway connecting Durban with Pietermaritzburg. The freeway was relatively busy, but the traffic appeared almost stationary as he ripped through it. Traffic thickened near Pinetown at which point he used the shoulder. As he approached Hillcrest, the map in his view zoomed and rotated to match his position.

Just outside of the main town center, Daniel weaved through the hilly neighborhoods of Hillcrest. It had been a small town when he lived in the area, but Hillcrest had grown to become a suburb the Durban Unicity Metropolotan Area area. It had become the fashionable upper-income suburb of Durban with the type of shopping and lifestyle that made it a destination unto itself. The homes were obviously owned by the wealthy. They were large homes on large plots. They were gated and secure.

Daniel slowed as he approached a small gray kombi parked askew on the side of a small residential road. The beacon originated from the kombi. Daniel approached and knocked on the glass, waking the African who had been waiting for just over an hour.

“I’ve found him,” stated the African after crawling out of the disheveled kombi. “He lives there.” He pointed at a distinctly smaller home situated just below the road connected by a narrow dirt driveway.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. But he is not there now. No one is there.” The African fumbled through his pockets in search of a cigarette. He drew a long breath then continued as he exhaled, “He works at the house project. My mother’s sister knows him.”

Daniel looked skeptically at the African. “Did you actually see him here?”

“No. But he will be back later ... after two or three, when the project finishes for the day.” The African took another long pull on his cigarette then flipped the butt into the road. “You’ll pay me now?”

“Not until I see him,” Daniel answered.

The African considered pressing the issue for a split second, but decided against it. He remembered how quickly Daniel had disabled the Englishman at the nightclub. He grunted in disapproval but said nothing.

“I’m going to wait in the house,” Daniel continued. “You can stay here or come back later – it makes no difference to me, but remove this heap from the road and don’t let them see you.”

“I’m going nowhere until I have my money,” the African growled.

“You will stay low. I’ll be at the house until they return. I’ll pay you when I leave.”

Daniel did not wait for a response. He strode to his bike and made his way down to the small house. He parked the bike prominently in front of the house and made his way inside.

Inside the house, he found very little. There was no indication of the wealth Brad had accumulated in his years at Q-Morrow and at Naidu. There were few pictures of any kind, but Daniel did find what appeared to be a wedding album. He skimmed through it and left it open when he found a good picture of Brad. After a few moments of rummaging through the bedroom, Daniel returned to the main living room. He sat down and activated a small viewscreen – the only visible modern technology in the house.

He checked his watch. It would be nearly noon in Bangalore. He called Sireesha.

“I’ve found him,” he said immediately after Sireesha answered the call.

“You’re there with him now?”

“No. I’m at his house. He’s not here now, but I’ll stay until he returns.”

“Is there any indication of the device?”

“There’s nothing here at all,” Daniel answered. “Nothing but entertainment devices.”

“Could it be hidden there?”

“Not likely. I scanned for network devices straightaway. There’s nothing modern here at all – I don’t know how he lives.”

Sireesha sighed. “Keep looking. And keep me informed. This is good news.”

The phone clicked. Daniel reclined on the chair and put his feet up. He would wait.

Chapter 36

Saturday, 12 March 2022 – 5:00 a.m. SAST

Brad Harris sipped a cup of hot rooibos tea as he waited for Anupama, his wife of nearly seven years to finish packing their lunch and supplies for the day. It was a beautiful day in Hillcrest, the Durban suburb in which he and his wife had decided to settle. Their house was small and unassuming, perfect for a couple that had chosen to focus on themselves. He had been off the grid since he left India and that suited him perfectly.

Brad glanced at his watch. It was just after five a.m., the twelfth day of March. For eight and a half years Brad had constantly thought about this day. For eight and a half years ago, Brad had taken his last look into the future and had seen his own death.

A short article from an obscure Durban news wire had mentioned his death and an investigation. The probability of the event was less than ten percent, but Brad knew that the probability was skewed because there was so little information about him transmitted over the net. He was also sure that the news was only available on the futurestream created by Naidu Technical. Quinn’s network was not as pervasive in Africa and Asia as was Sireesha’s. He assumed Quinn wouldn’t know. But he hoped.

“Do you have your gloves?” called Anupama from the house.

Brad reached to his back pocket to check. “Yes, I’ve got them.”

Brad and Anupama had spent the better part of their married lives volunteering their time to various service organizations. For years they had worked in an agricultural program organized by the United Nations. Today they were going to work in a home building program that had recently been introduced by the South African government. Brad loved his volunteer work. It was for him a penance for his past.

Anupama was fully involved and fully supportive. She loved being able to help. She had been raised in Chatsworth, poor and fatherless. She met brad at the Victoria Street Market, a hub of Indian commerce in downtown Durban. There had been an almost instant connection. Their courtship took time. Anupama was unsure about the cultural backlash from her family, but three years of patient and consistent effort had paid off. Brad was loved by his extended family at least as much as he was loved by Anupama.

Brad had kept few secrets from Anupama while they were courting. One was the futurestream and the details of his past work. The other was his excessively large nest egg. Only after they were married did Brad reveal the full extent of his wealth. To Brad, however, the wealth was a constant reminder of the transgressions of his past. The other secrets of his past he never fully divulged. He hated that part of his life.

Today was a day that he could not help but think about the past. He was sullen and distant, but not sad. He had planned for this day and he had lived his life fully. He had a beautiful, wonderful wife, a supporting and loving family and he had spent all of his time helping people. He was ready for death if it was to come today. He hated the sadness that it would bring to Anupama, but he had no regrets.

When Anupama joined Brad on the stoop, they stood for a moment and enjoyed the pre-morning quiet. She kissed him softly, noticing an unfamiliar look in her husband’s eyes.

“Is anything wrong?” she asked.

He snapped from his reverie. “No,” he smiled. “I love you.”

Chapter 35