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Authors: Brian Krogstad,Damien Darby

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BOOK: The Progression Switch
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In America, the woman earned herself a brief mention in the news and after a solid Google search, it’s obvious a fair amount of bloggers tried to spread the word.

Our Chinese friend didn’t hear about any of this. He had no access to the yank-side of the pond’s internet world. All he knew is that there was no other viable option.

***

Digital Blankets of Darkness

Stacy enjoyed five tiny minutes in the mid-level media spotlight, but then her story was washed away by the incoming tide of bad news in America. Honed instincts told her that wasn’t going to be the end of it. Something authoritative came through in that single page.

When things did come home to roost after roughly six months time, the note had already passed from her mind.

Stacy was unexpectedly let go from work for the weekend, so she and her munchkin would definitely be enjoying some quality time together. With her waitress salary and child support she was able to afford a decent two bedroom apartment. It wasn’t anything special, but it managed to be enough.

A weekend off wouldn’t put them on the street, she thought.

Unlike many others, Stacy really had no idea what was going on. She owned a simple, cheap, flip-style cell phone and an older brand-name desktop that she gotten from a pawn shop, but they only used it for music or learning games for Hazel. When it came to the technocracy or web culture in general, Stacy was barely on the radar.

News? Forget about it.

A big thing that the girls loved to do was watch movies together. When Stacy wasn’t cleaning, entertaining Hazel, or keeping herself from climbing up the walls, there was always a kid’s DVD playing. Hazel would peacefully and quietly absorb them, but oftentimes just enjoyed the background noise while she played with her toys.

They didn’t have a fancy TV, either, but an older model; unnecessarily thick with a wide back. It was reminiscent of the 90’s versions and had probably been lugged around with her from apartment to apartment since then. And they got their movies from one of the last remaining Blockbuster Video stores.

Maybe the only reason the video store remained open was due to the small size of the island. There were a few DVD rental kiosks around town, but despite the slow demise of Blockbuster as a company, it entertained a DVD monopoly on the island, and all the animated stuff was only a buck.

When Tupaia first started striking and taking everything down, Stacy was at work. There were rumors, but they didn’t make a whole lot of sense to her at the time. She understood what the net was, but in terms of all the techno-gadgetry, smart devices, or other digital stuff, those conversations might as well have been in Cantonese.

Besides, if it wasn’t one thing, it was another. Stacy decided that after all the fear mongering over the Mayan calendar/2012 end of the world stuff turned out to be bunk, she wasn’t going to feed into any more apocalyptic nonsense.

Fiscal cliffs came and went. Wars started and ended. Her mother told her it was all the same in her day, just different titles from a different time.

Her last night at work turned out a bit weird, though, being sent home because the restaurant was closing up early for the night and probably the rest of the weekend. Tony, the boss, got everyone together behind the condiments station and said the computers weren’t functioning.

“Yeah, no shit,” everyone said to themselves.

Furthermore, the lifeline connection with corporate had been cut.

Thank goodness, because writing orders by hand and giving them to the cooks versus inputting them into the computer system was annoying, and no one used cash anymore. If she got a dollar for every customer that was surprised to find out their credit card wasn’t working, she would have begun the next chapter of her life with plenty of worthless currency to burn. Credit card companies were among the first things to go.

Then he calmly assured them it would pass and an IT guy would be by in the morning to see what was up. The next thing they heard before leaving was his loud yelling from the office as he lost cell service during a call with his worried and very pregnant girlfriend.

As far as Stacy was concerned, a three-day weekend was just fine. It meant more time with Hazel. On the way home, signs of disturbance were everywhere, but they didn’t ring any alarm bells for Stacy.

Albertsons, Safeway, and Walmart. That was about it in town, along with a sprinkling of other corporations and smaller businesses in different strip malls or old buildings downtown.

The local economy wasn’t really big, but she liked it that way. At least she lived near the city-type area. As one went farther south on the island things got incredibly rural, and fast; lazy retirement communities and middle class family areas surrounded by towns as big as your thumbnail.

On her drive home she noticed Safeway was crowded and there were two obvious car wrecks in the parking lot with no cops in sight. Then, it took two cycles of green lights to come and go for her to realize she was in a newly formed line for the gas station – one of only three on the island.

Rather than a sense of panic conquering the air, it was confusion. People weren’t angry or in a hurry, but most didn’t understand what was going on. On the surface no one would have thought the city was so digitally integrated. Even small town America was teaming with fiber optic cables, mobile access, dish services,
etc.

Typically, the parking lot in her complex was starved for movement or any action whatsoever. It was a slow-paced area where people preferred not to do much else but work, then relax and take things easy with friends and family while raising their kids.

Today however, the place was alive and buzzing. One after another, people were carrying boxes and supplies from their apartments to their vehicles. It reminded her of holiday weekends when everyone would load up after work on Thursday afternoon and hit the road towards some outdoor dream destination.

Upon stepping through the threshold of her front door, reality began to start creeping in. The babysitter, Cadence, had bailed without calling, leaving Hazel all alone by herself. The poor girl was scared and thankfully still in one piece along with the apartment building.

The babysitter left no note. Nothing to explain her abrupt departure.

She reached into her purse, grabbed her phone, went to Contacts, and found that she had none - they were all erased somehow. She knew
the number, entered it, and hit send. Sorry, no service. Stacy walked out the back door, which usually helped, still no good.

Hazel started crying, obviously hungry and in desperate need of a nap. The desire for verbal vengeance would have to wait. After chomping through a bowl of cereal, Hazel lay down on the couch and Stacy tucked her in for a nap with some SpongeBob on.

Her next try was the computer. She had known Cadence for a few years and this was unacceptable. Having a guy over is one thing, but leaving a five year old completely alone for at least four hours. Come on…

They were Facebook friends so a nasty post on her timeline was definitely in order. She clicked the mouse to get the computer out of sleep mode and once the screen appeared she didn’t see her Mozilla Firefox icon on the desk top. Weird. So she went into Programs and used the default Internet Explorer, but nothing happened. No connection to the net could be established.

Internet Connections indicated she was online, but nothing was happening. She clicked into the URL bar and hit the F key. Why wasn’t browser history filling in the rest of the Facebook address?

Wait, where were her favorites, her bookmarks, her tabs… where were all the folders on her desktop?

All the techno mumbo jumbo she didn’t understand, but she knew how to navigate around a computer. Everything was gone. Pictures of Hazel, documents, every program from her Start Menu and Programs that weren’t default, all of it had been erased somehow.

Suddenly, things she briefly overheard at work started making a whole lot more sense. Stacy treated her computer like an old lady babies her car, but still she fell victim to whatever was causing all the commotion.

Hazel was almost snoring, so the time came to silence the almighty and indomitable SpongeBob, and turn on the news. Stacy knew something was definitely going down.

Hmm, the cable wasn’t working either. Stacy tried without any luck to go from station to station, but couldn’t tune into anything but static. Damn, no way to call her service provider either. All she had was her cell phone, so without it, there was no calling anyone period.

She missed her old cordless phone or even the corded ones before that when she was in high school that connected to the wall, with the stretchy plastic circular wire, independent of satellites. Not anymore.

Stacy tried texting her mom, twice, but couldn’t get through. So, after taking a good long look at Hazel sleeping tranquilly like a perfect angel, she left the front door open a crack and knocked on a couple neighbors' doors close by on her floor.

Judith, the older woman down the hall wasn’t home. It seemed no one was. The sound of someone opening their door one level up reverberated down the steps nearby. Stacy quickly pounced forward to meet them on their way to the parking lot.

It was a young man around her age, handsome, with his son who looked to be about 11 years old. They were in a hurry.

“Excuse me.” The father looked guarded and under his breath he told the boy to keep moving and get the car ready and then addressed her.

“Hi,” was all he said with a humble, yet disturbed look
as he gazed back her way.

Once she was close to him and his odor filled her senses, Stacy basically vented everything. Two years passed since Hazel’s dad left the picture, and finding a non-creeper seemed an impossible feat.

“Ok, I can see you’re in a hurry. Look, everyone is, but please, I came home to find my five year old abandoned by her sitter, people are freaking out downtown, and I’ve lost phone, internet, and cable. Do you know what’s going on?”

Her honesty was disarming so his shoulders imperceptibly eased.

“Yeah, the scene downtown is basically fear mixed with irrational behavior.” He tossed a look behind her towards his car. “So you really don’t know what’s happening, huh?”

That sounded alarming.

“No.” Stacy replied and then waited with building apprehension.

“It’s a virus, at least that’s what it sounds like to me. Before everyone lost service, CNN was reporting on it a bit.”

“My God, a virus? Is it contagious? How many people have it?”

She was getting excited. “No, no,” he gently interjected, “a computer virus.”

“Oh,” Stacy took a breath and remembered that her own computer was wiped somehow. “Well, is it affecting the whole county, or state, or...?”

His look became a mix of annoyance and empathy.

“It’s more like the whole world.”

Before she could reply, his son returned and stood by her waiting for his father to address him.

“It’s not working, Dad.” He said innocently.

“What’s not working?”

“The car. I tried to use the start button on your key ring, but it didn’t work. So I put the key in the ignition, but it won’t start.”

The man was looking down at the ground, deep in furious thought.

“If you guys need a ride to get some gas, once my daughter wakes up I…”

“No, no thank you. It’s not that.” He set down his backpack.

Before finishing his sentence for her, he instructed his son to head back upstairs and wait for him.

“I got a promotion at work a few months back and splurged on a brand new car. It’s got full digital assimilation - a smart car or whatever.”

This didn’t make sense. He must have worked on the mainland and commuted by ferry every day.

“Yeah, but, isn’t it still a combustion engine? Can’t you turn it over with the key?” Stacy asked.

Her vehicular ignorance was beginning to bore and annoy him, as he had bigger problems now.

“No, unfortunately, it’s all computerized. The next level up in price had a feature where the car starts by thumbprint and voice direction only - no keys needed. Anyway, listen…”

He paused again, rethinking his direct approach.

“Things will be getting, uh, slightly disturbing over the next week or so if this thing doesn’t blow over pretty fast. I need to be with my son right now and figure out our game plan. Do you have supplies and food to last a week or so?”

No one ever asked her something like that before. Stacy never thought more than a few days or paychecks ahead. After Hazel was born, her mid-section grew and stayed there until she started cooking meals every day and not keeping lots of extra food in the house.

“Umm, I have a little bit of stuff, but not too much. Why? Do you think I should go shopping and get some things?”

Just then the small porch lights above the doors next to them that had been left on suddenly went out. They could feel it. The power went down. Hazel felt it as well, woke up instantly, and called out for her mother.

“OK, just hang tight. My son and I’ll come down in about an hour or so. If your car’s working, we can let him watch your daughter and we’ll go together.” That sounded reasonable enough. “Looks like I’ll need some supplies myself,” he said.

“I drive an old Mitsubishi, and it worked just fine earlier today. It has a digital radio in it I think, but other than that it runs on gas and stuff…” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Sounds good, see you in a bit,” he said as he started walking up the stairs.

BOOK: The Progression Switch
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ads

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