The Rendering - Ch. 1

Chapter One

‘Hold it!’ the man dressed in the shady clothes with a hood over his head said.

The little boy turned around and when he saw him stood still. The shady man walked up to the little boy. ‘Do you want a candy?’ he asked. The boy shook his head profusely.

‘Then give me back my damn disc!’ he yelled. The scared child dumped the disc onto the ground and took off. The pissed off shady man with a hood over his head decided to give chase and easily caught hold of the kid.

‘Aaah! Let me go!!!’ the poor boy yelled. With an evil laugh the man threw him over the fence and into the river. The boy shrieked in shock at the freezing water and quickly waded over to the other side.

‘That will teach you!’ he yelled across to him. The little boy quickly got out and ran away crying.

‘I suppose you’re always like that with children.’ A man behind him said.

 ‘Kid got what he deserved’, he replied, turning to him and studying this stranger.

‘Well, are we going to conduct business?’ he asked the shady man.

‘I have a name, you know.’

‘Forgive me, Mr. Nidulus.’

‘It’s Naydulus you retard and don’t call me by my surname. Phoc will be fine.’

‘Very well Phoc. I think you have something that belongs to me.’

‘I didn’t get your name, either.’

The man sighed and said, ‘You’re better off not knowing.’

‘Oh really? I never knew mercenaries were so mysterious. In fact I found you off the network. How hard was that?’

‘It’s Jake.’

‘Jake…’

‘Jake.’

‘Why does that name sound so fami-’

Jake pulled out a gun and shot him in the head.

‘You were better off not knowing. Idiot.’

He wiped the pistol and put it into the late Phoc Naydulus’ hands.

‘Mr. G, you have a leak. Target knew I was after him. Out.’

Jake looked at the dead man one last time, shrugged and walked away to find dinner, whistling “Annie’s Song” and putting one hand in his pocket, the other on his hip.

 

***

‘The regular, Jake?’

He looked at the bartender, thought for awhile and shook his head.

‘I think I’ll have some warm water.’

‘Rough night, huh?’

He nodded in reply and looked at the latest news. “Man commits suicide in Ironfields”. Jake noticed the news services were losing their touch. ‘Fifteen minutes late…’ he said to himself.

‘Used to be five,’ a man said next to him.

Jake turned and looked.

‘You’re under arrest for the murder of Phoc Naydulus.’

Jake laughed and they shook hands.

‘How’s things?’ Jake asked.

‘Ah, could be better. Divorced again. Same old same old.’

‘Heh, you never change.’

‘I wish. So you got the disc?’

Jake handed him the disc the poor dead man managed to extract from the poor cold child.

‘Hmm…antique. But then again most good intel is stored like this.’

‘You telling me.’

‘Here…the warm water’s on me.’

‘Idiot.’

‘Which reminds me…’

The man took a sip and gave Jake a very serious look.

‘Are you up for a crazy job?’

‘I’m assuming it pays proportionally.’

The man nodded his head. Jake kept silent.

‘Anna Takop. Former Eastern European dictator, now in hiding.’

‘Termination?’

He shook his head.

‘No. Escort.’

‘And why me?’

‘You’re the right person. Low profile, high skill level. Deniability if this thing hits the fan.’

‘I suppose there’s a high possibility it will.’

‘No shit, Jakeass.’

‘Hmph.’

‘Three trillion. Immediately if you accept.’

‘Not bad. A decent retirement would await me.’

‘If you make it.

‘If.’

‘People will find out once she’s on the move. And a lot of them want her dead or alive.’

‘That Anna has quite the bounty on her, if I’m correct?’

‘Yes. The Ams are offering 900 bill, the Brits 500.’

‘Then I suppose there are others who would pay more.’

‘Not more than what you’re getting. You are just one man whom nobody knows. What makes you think those unofficial sources will shell out that amount for you?’

‘So why are you so willing to part with three trill?’

‘Me? Never. My superiors are.’

‘How nice. Fine, I’m in.’

‘Unfortunately for you. I’ll call you within 72 hours.’

With that he left. 

Jake sipped his water and stared at an attractive woman leaning on a corner, but then realized she wasn’t a woman.

The Hare Who Looked At The Stars

He walked past the meadow, into the woods. The birds told him to go there, although he was doubtful. The setting sun coloured the valley walls around him a bright red and he counted one, two, sixty waterfalls.

Why this place? He wondered.

A swallow flew past and told him to keep going. Walking on he deftly stepped past the broken branches and a few footsteps later, he supposed he reached the place. It was a small burrow in the ground, underneath a huge tree root. Dead leaves covered more than half the entrance and he wondered if he had come to the right place.

A little rabbit with dark grey fur peered out. Hello? He said hoping he was not disturbing it. Slowly the rabbit trudged out cautions yet curious.

You wanted to hear a story? The rabbit whispered. He nodded his head, bent down and looked into its eyes. I do not remember much; only what my ancestors told me, said the rabbit.

Go on.

His name no one knows. Perhaps he never had one. But we called him the Hare, for that was what he was. He lived here, in these woods and had many friends. A swallow, a fox, a squirrel even a frog.

Keeping silent he listened as the rabbit continued.

He was brave and went to many far away places and helped rid these woods of dangerous creatures. The rabbit paused as if to think. The listener took the opportunity to ponder its words.

Did you see a meadow as you came here? It asked. He nodded. There is a tree there, a single tree in a field of flowers.

Yes I saw it.

The hare would meet with is friends there and they would share stories with one another. That is…that is all I know.

He kept silent for awhile but then said I do not understand though why they say this Hare is so special.

The rabbit thought for awhile.

Once before the sun rose the Hare looked up into the dark sky, looked up at the stars. He said something we never understood.

What did he say?

Are they not beautiful?

Hearing that he laughed. Thank you dear rabbit. I understand now. With a smile on his face he stroked its soft fur, rose and walked away.

________________________________

If you frequent Logical Nonsense, you will know who the Hare is.

Animals imagine what it were like to be human

Good morning, he thought. Sparrow was staring at him through the window, ignorant of his need for privacy. He, immodest, blushed then chuckled then said and waved hi. Getting out of bed was the easy part getting ready for work not since getting ready for work required more work which required more work.

Were mundane things worth noting? It depends; mundane descriptions of eating sleeping working shitting were priceless to the prying observer a thousand years in the future yet to us now they are redundant and useless. So the bus arrives early and he notes that happily but with a twinge of sadness knowing that that would not always be the case.

Sometimes, Dog weeps and for no good reason. There might be one, but unless he so inclines to tell us we can safely say we don't know. Tears on Dog are odd indeed, and while the rest of us puzzle only the poets and scientists try to find an answer. Both start from different points but almost inevitably reach the same conclusion.

Click click goes the mouse. The mouse mind you is not a real mouse but rather a plastic metallic electronic device made by its god who is man and it does its masters' bidding. Click click goes the mouse and its master the user strays from his usual routine at the cost of his company's productivity and instead drifts to sites where he can view his species copulate.

Sparrow and Dog wonder what the fuss is all about when he gets fired for click clicking and watching his species mate. Nothing special indeed.

At the same time, mouse silently and obediently does its masters' bidding. Being a fallen object, he may never sin but in the end he always returns to dust click clicking no more.

Cat licks her paws yawns and sleeps; one eye open at the children little children playing in the swimming pool. They frolic in the water and laugh for no apparent listen since at that age justification to perform such acts is not required. They laugh and are observed by their elders, who in turn observe magazines.

Ice creams under the sun survive for a short while, but ah what pleasure it gives to the person licking slurping biting it? Yum! It melts quickly but satisfies brilliantly- a metaphysical law indeed.

An old man sat on a bench under the tree. Cat stared at him and trod post. He looked at her and she at him. He speaks to it but the cat does not understand. He knows she does not but pretends she does.

The children too, frolicking and laughing pretend they are Jedis. Together humanity pretends so conclude Sparrow Dog and Cat who then rejoice that they are an honest kind; sinless beings who need not cover in shame their true nature but beings who die anyway under the curse.

But at least better than man.

The Acceptance of Advancement

In a moment of randomness, our lecturer asked us to write a story about 666, Armageddon and how we're gonna get tracked by all sorts of devices (most probably a microchip). I thought that to write such a story would be nonsense and not worth my time (even if it's worth Tim Lahaye's). Hence, I wrote something just as corny, albeit more sensible.

__________________________

The Acceptance of Advancement

David was woken by the sound of his phone ringing. He thought he had turned it off. It was 3 am in the morning. It was work.

“Yeah…” he said in a daze.

“We have a situation.” The voice over the phone said.

It was unprecedented, but David somehow knew this would happen. It was 2 years since the implementation of RFID chips as an alternative method of cash transaction. The chip would usually be inserted into the left arm of the person. With it, money could be stored, along with the individual’s identity, passport numbers. It also functioned as a credit card.

The chips were connected by a global network. A bad choice, some said. But the security for the bio-wallet (as it was colloquially called) was impeccable; the only way to steal the money in it was to steal the chip itself.

But nobody said anything about completely erasing all the data held within it. And nobody knew how that happened.

David got into the car and slowly drove from the suburbs into the city, where he was called to. He scanned his arm, hoping for the impossible

“Nothing…” he muttered to himself. The scanner showed a zero balance. Thankfully, he had only about $60 in there. But most people won’t be so lucky.

Oricorp would never have existed without a $500 million capital boost from a VC consortium. This left many analysts baffled, considering that their idea was nothing new (an RFID cash transfer device). But that later revealed their plans to have it connected to a global network, via a special encrypted spectrum. It was considered to be almost impossible to hack because that would require the use of a nearly $100 million device. Altogether, there were twenty of such devices ever made, the size of a telecommunications tower. All of them were owned by Oricorp.

David parked his car at the sidewalk and made his way in. Already there were a group of reporters staking out at the entrance. A reporter who knew him immediately rushed to him and asked him some questions. David just shook his head and entered inside. He was, at the moment, entirely ignorant of the situation.

“Thanks for coming David.” Stella said and shook his hands. She was the head of the network security department. “It happened at around 2:24 a.m. today.” she said as she walked, David following her. She continued, “We’ve already totaled the balances of every single bio-wallet in the world.” “And?” David asked, knowing full well the answer. She shook her head. “Any suspects?”

“At the moment, we’re all thinking it’s internal.”

“No doubt.” Unless someone had found a way to build a $100 million dollar tower, then it was clear that one of Oricorp’s transmission devices were utilized in the hack.

“But I don’t understand,” David said, “why you need me here.”

Stella smiled. “We need you to co-ordinate with PR. You are our top shrink.”

“Technically, I’m a psychologist, not a psychiatrist. But ah, I see why. Calm the panicked masses, yes?”

She nodded. “David, two and a half billion dollars have been erased overnight. While we can reimburse that sum, the damage to our organization will be irreparable if we cannot persuade our clients that this will not happen again.”

“Hmm…”

Just then they met up with a tall and burly man. “Hey Jim, this is David. David, Jim, head of our North America PR department.” Stella introduced them. They shook hands.

“We have four hours,” Jim said, “before America realizes her wallets have been stolen.”

Two months later

David sat down on the couch, and sighed. He now knew how it felt to be unemployed. But he wasn’t quite that surprised.

He had always suspected that people only took Oricorp’s new method of payment with a pinch of salt. But while they were enthusiastic to adopt the new technology (governments were all relieved from printing less paper bills), the Wipeout (as it was now called) had erased, along with their money, the people’s confidence. No assurance could change their minds. As quickly as they had their chips inserted, they were removed.

In other words, Oricorp’s fifteen year experiment came to a close in a most dramatic way possible: in total failure. David speculated that this probably meant the public was subconsciously never confident with Oricorp’s program to begin with. That was what doomed it, although the hackers might have helped.

He recalled a debate he had with a friend of his, who objected that the RFID scheme will result in diminished privacy. Governments and corporations could track what people spent, their identities and such.

“But,” David said, “you forget that privacy will always have to be surrendered in exchange for benefits. For example, you give down your personal details when you want to enter a contest. Of course, you might win a prize, but you are also exposing yourself to the person you give the form to. The question is whether surrendering a certain amount of your privacy will enable you to gain the benefits that the bio-wallet will provide.”

His friend thought for awhile. “True. But in the end, do we really need more and more advanced gadgets?”

“There’s no clear cut line to say that enough is enough. Computers have developed so far because no one said we have had enough of technology. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with advancement. It almost always has brought innumerable benefits.”

Someone piped in. “What about those who say that chips will be used by the Antichrist?” Everyone chuckled. “Yeah,” someone else said, “Oricorp is a front for the Devil’s schemes!”

“Well,” David thought now. “The Devil had a lousy scheme indeed.”