Chapter 23: Sons and Fathers

Roger took the left turn instead of staggering through the crowded street towards the old workshop. His hack over minor service and camera bots worked well, even though it rippled on his brain cells as they were dying faster. His hack would stop once entering a neutral zone. The streets were also crawling with patrol bots and human police, raising their rifles at civilians for a check before letting them carry on their ways. Aside from the whole of it, gun shots across the city occurred as gangs from within and outside the Pacific fought for the chair of rule, so much for Brinkins' legacy. Roger took the stairs of a wilting building, furnished with cracks and spots, up to the rooftop. He stood near the ridge of the building, looking at a man with his long gray vest floating behind him. He was wearing a cap; his hands were huddled together, seeming to be shielding something important.

Roger rested his elbows on the ridge of the building, pulling his back and resting his shoulders. The coming wave of wind yanked the hood off his head, releasing his gliding hair. His small beard was forming; the smaller straps of hair started dancing to the movement of the wind. The man beside him smiled.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Roger smiled. "Never seen better."

"Weird for the most wanted man in the city to say so. I guess some people crave the action," the man, Jerry Jackson, said as he turned towards Roger. They shook hands and looked back at the city again.

"I really don't know what to say, Sir. For you to come all the way here, to do me this favor, after what I had done to you. I guess I know now why Jeremy's such a nice guy," Roger said, enjoying the playfulness of the wind across his cheeks and hair. Jerry chuckled, shielding the special item with one hand instead of two.

"We all saw the news, you know? Me, Jeremy, Tamara, your Uncle, everyone you know and don't know. A wonderful kid like you, strapped of his potential, makes me hate your father really. If it wasn't for the chip, none of this would have happened. I don't know why you need this file, but you deserve to have it," Jerry said, holding one end of the flash drive while the other side tingled. Roger picked it up and tossed it into his pocket.

"I know they did. I wish they hadn't had to see it, but so it happened. You know you could have just given me the file, maybe use a hack to delete Louisa's version of it through a shared IP. Why not give it to me and straight keep yourself in the mob? If you were you in charge, this gang war wouldn't have happened."

Jerry rubbed his cheek. "And what? Let your heart be consumed by the atrocities your father and that friend of his had committed? I don't care in the name of what, it would hurt you. You were still a kid, my kid's best friend. I was both empathetic and selfish at the same time. And for the mob, I was already starting to orchestrate my escape, and Louisa brought it to me in a silver plate. The only part I hadn't thought of was prison, I was clogged with that, I felt hopeless and alone. Then you did your part, and here I am free. Somehow fate joined its different forces in an inexplicable way to free me off the mob's shackles. I don't feel sad or happy about what happened to Louisa, everyone has it coming at some point, even me."

"And what about Jeremy? Is he okay? I haven't talked to him. I felt ashamed and… I don't know if I'm gonna make it to the end of next week in this city."

"Oh that boy," Jerry said, gingering. "We've haven't seen him for a while too. Shortly after my release, he decided to move out of the house. We tried to stop him, but he was all about being responsible and carrying his life over his own shoulders. If I had to make a guess, the way he felt when I left them alone made him rethink how I put him in a position of dependency, so he set out to carve his own path in life. How strange, he seems really different compared to what he was months ago. All thanks to you, Roger, you fulfilled your role as his best friend."

"You know I've been trying to reach him, I only feared the feds would get to him."

"I'll deliver the message. Whatever you were trying to say, Roger, I will tell him exactly as I understood it."

"It's been pleasure talking to you, sir. I feel… more ready for what's coming," Roger said, inhaling and pushing his chest out. He stretched both of his arms as the sun shined upon them both. Jerry patted Roger on the shoulder with a nod before heading towards the exit. Just before his hand fell on the knob, he turned to Roger again.

"Aren't you gonna see what's in that file? You didn't seem excited for it."

"No, sir, I sought it for the sake of the future, not the past. I've already made peace with my father, never felt better!" Roger said smiling, raising both of his fists in the air as if victorious. Jerry looked up at the sky with half a smile, unsuspecting such an answer. Still, he looked back at the young Roger with eyes that might or might not have been teary.

"Good boy."

After Jerry had stridden towards an exit, Roger initiated an extending hack across scanners to let him go in safety. He was not wanted yet he talked to him, better keep him safe. The chip bearer looked back at the flash drive sitting across his palm, knowing exactly what to do with it.

"Roger Garaldson, you're under arrest," Patrick said, raising his pistol to Roger's head. The young one with the chip took a step back, raising both of his hands. Roger had a black flash drive in between his set of fingers.

"I've given you enough chances, Roger. I had every proof against you, yet I've given you a chance to walk out of it alive. Guess some people are that stupid."

"I know, it's your job to arrest me now. But you can at least listen to what I have to say."

"Listen? This isn't my call anymore, kid. Even the bureau can't help you now, the public needs to see you behind bars for the things that you were proven to have done. Besides, you didn't provide us with the evidence against the Tech Fanatics."

"I have the evidence you want in this flashdrive, I found it! I brought with me this flashdrive in exchange of a minute of your time. You can arrest me if you want, but I only ask you listen to me. Here," Roger said, placing the flash drive on the table. Lorenzo seemed hesitant; he took a step back while keeping his gun an inch away from Roger.

"This evidence was in the possession of the Pacific. It contains all the evidence against the practices of Carl Owinson, Bob Polion and Isaac Garaldson, my father. Everything on them that was supposed to prove your father, Darius Lorenzo, right is in this file. I now give it to you, and you are very welcome to plug this flashdrive to a computer and be sure," Roger explained.

Lorenzo lowered the gun, picking up the flashdrive as Roger started to lower his hands as well. He was panting for a second, he thought Lorenzo was mad enough to pull a surprise.

"This isn't supposed to make any sense," Lorenzo said, seemingly urged to raise that gun again. "The reputation and the legacy of your father will sink to the dirt if this file goes public. What are you planning now, Garaldson?"

"No, there is no hidden intention behind this. The reputation of my father is no greater than your father's. It is time to prove his work didn't go for nothing, but this is yours to decide. All I ask is for you to stay away from Bob Polion's family, Tamara and Cindy Polion."

Lorenzo pouted his lips, looking at the flashdrive. He struggled to suspect a trick. Roger was smart enough to know Lorenzo wouldn't plug the flash drive into a bureau computer, that part Lorenzo realized. He reared his gun again, focusing it on the sweaty Roger sitting by the ridge of the table with a rising eyebrow.

"I reckon you need something. Let me guess, you want me to help you get into the evidence room, wipe out all the stink we go on you? I'm afraid that's not gonna happen, There is nothing I can do to help in that regard," Lorenzo said, tossing the gun behind his back before he drew the cuffs.

"No, no, no more cheating. No more hiding and deleting evidence, I'm willing to make a deal with the bureau, with you and I as its keepers."

"A deal? How is that?"

"I will give you the Future Dictators, all of them, the evidence on them and their names. But only if you escort me out of the city."

"Hm, why? Where do you intend to go?"

"Somewhere, only if you accompany me will you know. It would be better if you call a few of your friends, there might be an arrest mission."

"An arrest without a warrant? And a place outside the city? How am I gonna contact them if I don't know where they are?"

"Simple, you give me their coordinates and I'll send it to them as soon as we leave the city. I have a lead, I can't talk now, but I have a lead on what you will be needing to arrest the Tech Fanatics. The cops wouldn't let me out, so I need you to escort me out of this place. Once we get what we want, and if we get what we want, I want you to help me get one day, one day headstart before you put me on the wanted list again. Do we have a deal?"

"Yeah, we can do that, or I can arrest you right here and force you to tell me where they are."

"Of course you can try, but I don't think you should be so hopeful," Roger said, the shade hid half of his face. Lorenzo could almost see something glowing within the shade. "You have nothing to force me with. I have no one and nothing to lose. My powers are costing me my brain cells. If you intend to go beyond the book and use torture with me, I can control my pain sensors and thus you can try as much as you can, yet in vain. I am sure a smart agent like you will realize what is to be won and what is to be lost in this deal, and so I wait for your response."

They looked at each other with intent, each gripping something whether their clothes, chins or guns. Their eyes spoke threats instead of their tongues; both were more than ready to react if the other made a move even accidentally. Lorenzo was the first to move, yet downwards as he hid his cuffs again. Roger exhaled, gripping a bottle of water as he wiped the sweat off his own forehead using the back of his arm. Lorenzo took a step forward before halting, making a quick move before Roger could react. He pulled his Taser and allowed it kiss Roger's neck for as long as it was needed for him to black out.

The aching in Roger's head started to wear off, and with that it was easier for him to pull up his eyelids. He put his hand on his head, sensing that he was shaking. Even after opening his eyes, it was still dark yet there was a bit of light on the background. Half of his body covered with something of black cotton. He pulled it all, blinded by the sun as he pulled himself away from the seat. The movement was slowing down; he sat with his hand on the shock's spot. It was still stinging. Behind the windshield of the car, there were fields and hills atop each other, the sky was clouded with immigrating flocks. It was easier to hear their chirping, to hear the bunnies and find underlying rodents across the grass and trees. And Trees! There were more trees than he had ever seen, even in the pictures. Even the sky felt bluer and less gray than usual like it was an actual spring afternoon instead of a monotone box.

Roger looked at the driver seat, no one was there. He stretched his hand, opening the door before he fell on the soil. For years since Florida, it was the first time he actually hit the soil. As he raised his head, he observed how Lorenzo was sitting on a movable chair atop the hill where they stopped at the side of the road. Roger used his shirt to wipe the stains of the soil off his face, there was even a squirting worm traveling across his forehead. Roger picked it up, keeping it in between the two of his fingertips before putting it back into the soil. The last time he had ever saw something similar was at the school lab or the textbooks. There was another chair put on the wheeled car; Roger pulled it and sat next to Lorenzo.

"You got me this time. I didn't think you'd actually get me out of the city," Roger said, looking westwards at Garlem. Even the air scented different, like it was cooler and his lungs craved more of it. From a higher standpoint, Garlem in comparison with the hills surrounding it seemed like a grey eye pupil surrounded by a green socket.

"First, knowing you're a sneaky rodent, if I took you to the bureau, you'd connect your mind to the evidence room and then snap," Lorenzo said, still smiling. Roger nodded, laughing as well, spotting the chip notification at the top of his vision, informing him that only eleven days were left before the stroke. He remained silent, enjoying the view.

"Second, I had to do the right thing and bring them in, I'm sure they hurt you too. This ain't the lion's forest, but let's exact some justice."

"Did you check the flashdrive?"

Lorenzo laughed. He pointed at something under the car's wheels. Roger zoomed, spotting the parts of the flash drive spattered around. It was wrecked. Roger looked back at Lorenzo in bewilderment, wondering if it was a simulation.

"Well, I guess that was my mistake. I let my father's reputation define his legacy, define how I looked at him and how I should look at myself. I spent my whole life looking for that file, for the proof that he was right in order for me to shut every one of those idiots back in the bureau that underestimated us. On the road, I had time to think it over, how you chose to sacrifice your father's reputation for my father's. I saw courage in you, and with me being a competitive guy, I couldn't let that stand so I crushed it."

Both of them erupted in laughter. Roger even took hold of his stomach as he laughed. Lorenzo laughed as well, barely able to keep it formal.

"So you, Patrick Lorenzo, the hotshot fed, say that you learned something from me?" Roger said.

Lorenzo took his time to answer. "Yes, I did. But don't get so cocky now, would you? Once we're done of the fanatics, you'd be going back with me and see how nice I can get with you."

"Sure, you got it, now can we go? It's time for to bring the Future Dictators back to the present."

Lorenzo took a deep breath, blinking as he heaved himself off the chair. He gripped it by its handle, heading towards the car.

"That we shall!"

Before they entered the car, Roger stopped walking and leaned on the car at the sight of the dying light across the horizon like a bright arc. The birds seemed like mere shadows and the clouds had sun rays penetrating through them and lighting their borders. On the downer side, the rays traveled across the hills as a strong wind came by and made the whole of it move from the tiniest mite of grass to tallest trees at the side. Lorenzo released the deafening klaxon, bringing Roger back from his amusement. He entered the car, happy to know that even though it had never been the way he wanted, he did leave Garlem and see the outside world. Roger connected his mind to the car's navigation system, showing the location in the map and thus sending its coordinates to the other agents Lorenzo mentioned. After that, knowing that it might take some time to be there, Roger grasped the cover from the back seat and covered himself, yet keeping one of his eyes uncovered. Inside that mind of his, Roger wove the numbers and released them to create a whole new simulation. The world was more like a cube. His uncovered eye caught the musing scene, capturing it with its lights. At the core of the cube, there was a wooden stool next to a portrait holder. Even the whole of it smelled antique. The brush was laid on the side of the holder. Once Roger installed himself in the stool, buckets of painting colors spawned all around him like a surrounding fire, appearing one by one. Roger closed his eyes, as if fully perceiving the frozen moment in time just before the sun set and darkened the whole of it. The brightness, the redness of it, the oblique grass and leaning tress, all of it lingered in his mind. Without fully opening his eyes, without looking at the bucket, he tossed the brush into the green one. He held it, brush close to the portrait.

One Last Time

The climate was not so peaceful when they had arrived. The wind was stronger, and its howling was louder and more frightening. Birds hid in their nests, rabbits under the grounds and rodents inside the trees. There were less passing cars out there. The only light in the location was that coming from a van parking near a linen factory, an old one and dating back since the time of the American Industrial revolution. The whole place seemed to be sitting on the edge with one single push left for demolition. It was a modern ruin.

Lorenzo parked the car at the side of the road, far from the van. He and Roger stepped away from it before setting it on fire as it crept towards the engine and the oil tank, exploding in the process. Lorenzo clapped his hands, walking towards the van with Roger setting his eyes on the modern ruin. There had to be some significance to the place, he thought. They entered the van; Roger was mused at the wires and the computers all around. There was a lady with her headset on, analyzing signals while two men worked on the wires. The leader of the squad, Agent Jessica Beaver welcomed Lorenzo inside. Roger stayed on the side, thinking it through.

"Hey Pat," Agent Beaver said, leaning on the computer platform.

"Jess, did we have any progress?" Lorenzo asked.

"Well, we've been here for like an hour now. The whole place seems empty… and old. We analyzed signals, there's nothing there apart from the water dripping from the surface. You know the bureau doesn't know about this, Pat. You really should be careful with what you're doing."

"Did you get inside the place?"

"No, we can't get inside the place without a warrant. It's an antique place, Pat, and a property of the state. The bureau's not given that permission, not yet anyway," Agent Beaver continued with a quick glaring at the introverting Roger. Lorenzo put his finger under his chin, and an elbow resting on the palm of his other hand.

"Okay then, here's how we're going to do it. Since we came, we can't leave empty handed. I trust the kid, he's brought us here for a reason. We need him inside, it'll be quick and just to gather evidence. Are we okay with this, agent?"

Jessica shook her head, yet slowly and seeming to be hesitant. "I got a bad feeling about this, Pat. Maybe we should head back, report absence of activity."

"No, we can't do that!" Roger intervened, face red and eyes bulging. Almost without noticing, the other agents in the room had their hands on their guns, yet no draw. Roger calmed, cooling before he walked at a slower pace towards Agent Beaver.

"Agent, I am sure the Tech Fanatics are going to do something here. I have been up against them. I will get inside. Here," Roger said, putting his hand on the computer platform, closing his eyes before all cameras became his own vision. There was no need for hearing wires, as the lady at back heard his voice loud and clear carried through the smaller cables of the headset.

"The bureau was right about you, and here I thought it was a trick," Agent Beaver said.

"I'm getting inside now," Roger said, turning to Lorenzo with a nod. He nodded back.

Roger walked out of the van, spotting Garlem from a distance, the hills and the modern ruin. He stood facing it, how tall and grand it seemed. It made him wonder how it seemed in the past, but wondering was not the right thing to do at that time. He had five days left instead of twelve after creating that painting stimulation with such detail and parallel use of the chip between creating a world, capturing a world and living in both at the same time. He took a deep breath, feeling his lungs embracing the cold air.

"Alright, let's do this."