The woman was dressed in a red suit. Sitting behind a desk. Smiling.
"Good Morning."
Fixed-stare. Something dead, something more.
"There's something in the water."
Five-thousand miles of black glass.
"There's something in the water."
A black fist, a snake eating itself.
"There's something in the water."
Eleven. One-hundred. Forty-eight.
Her eyes grow.
"There's something in the water."
A man wearing a buck's skull, his form terrible and great.
"There's something--"
The screen switched off, a low hum parsing through the room, then settling.
Mr. Steely got up from his chair. The lights turned on, the commissioners blinking as they adjusted, all save for Helena--she was stone-made and seemed resistant to what most people went through.
"It went out at about..." Steely checked his receiver, the numbers flashing on, a calendar scrolling. "Midnight."
"Steely--christ."
He put up a hand. "Not trying to freak anyone out. We got a good thing going here--I get that. Easy, reliable revenue-stream--"
Francis scowled. "Reliable my ass. One day it's the dark code, next it's the vagrants messing with our satellites. This war you want so badly isn't reliable. It's all over the place. We can't get a good sense of the future and this--" He motioned to the now-dead screen. "--doesn't inspire confidence."
Steely rolled his eyes.
"It's nothing. Just some kid who went a little too deep into the mainframe."
"It scares people. Scared people don't look the other way--they dig. We don't need anyone digging into any more files. It will only lead to calamity."
"Further calamity, you mean?"
Francis smiled at Steely.
"Exactly. So, CEO--what's your next move?"
The conscripts were watching Steely now. Old, fat. Dying away, and yet still they clung, like leeches.
"Nothing. I'm going to delete the recording and never talk about it again."
"But what does it mean?" asked Francois. "What's she trying to say?"
"It means nothing. Soothsayer gibberish. And if anyone is trying anything, it's whoever made the recording in the first place."
"Maybe we can track the girl," Helen said, her voice low, discomforting.
"She's not real--a hundred pictures pasted together to make something familiar yet fake." Steely crossed his arms, shrugging. "It's over. I'm taking care of it."
The conscripts glanced at one another.
"These sort of slip-ups, Steely...are not good," Helen began, smoothing out the wrinkles on her suit. "They tell us two things: one, you do not have a firm handle on the situation."
"That's not fair--"
"And two..." Helena sighed. "These sorts of things stack up, Steely. Quickly. Minor disturbances maybe--"
"They won't remember it by tomorrow."
"...but the effect lingers," Helena finished. "We lost a little bit of what we call forward-momentum. The station is not so secure."
YOU ARE READING
Molly - Part 4
Science FictionThere wasn't a statue of liberty anymore--there was no need for it. And as the sun dawned and the fog rolled in and the buildings became so high they blotted out what little sunlight there was it could only be said that yes: this was the end of the...
