PETER AROSE EARLY THE next morning and was working on the couch, hoping he could fill-in for some of Ears’ podcast duties. He monitored the previous day’s run with Oort Cloud and was surprised at seeing over forty million active listeners and downloads.

“How are you doing?” he asked when Molli finally opened her door.

“I feel alone without him, without knowing he’s there, safe in Texas.”

Her eyes welled-up with tears. “No, I can’t get started. I told myself not to cry any longer, so I applied my mascara. Do I appear terribly bad?”

“You’re beautiful. Don’t feel you need to put mascara on for me. You look great without it.”

“Peter, don’t lie,” she pleaded. “You never cared, anyway.”

“Molli, I understand beauty. I see beauty. Natural beauty.”

“Right, kind words to comfort a grieving girl. I didn’t even do martial arts this morning, the first time in I don’t know how long, except for the hospital visit. It keeps me straight and gives me strength and courage.”

Peter grabbed his laptop and stood up from the couch. “You want to exercise here? I’ll move into the kitchen.”

“No, don’t bother. Did you contact his parents?”

“They already did per that gent from Stu’s office, once they confirmed the news. It’s in your inbox, too.”

Molli sat on the couch, rubbing her arms and massaging her muscles, typical preparation for starting her exercises.

“Guess I didn’t read that. Just saw the confirmation. You’d hope to believe it was staged, but I can’t go there. Must stop this incessant mental pathway that pops up in my brain. Better do my martial arts, Peter, and yeah, move to the kitchen. But wait,” she put her hand out to stop Peter from standing. “Hug first.”

Peter was surprised but reached over to hug her, and they both felt connected in spirit. She pushed him back after a moment.

“Enough feeling bad or trying to feel good. I didn’t even want to look at the numbers for Oort Cloud yesterday. How’d it go?”

“Over forty million. Ears was magic at getting us noticed.”

“I’ll work the other interviews today and tomorrow if I can do it. Must get my head around something productive like edits, cleanup, the usual.”

Peter nodded. “I agree. Then we should get the hell out of here.”

“Yeah. You know, I didn’t go on the plane with Ears because I wanted to say goodbye to my master and others at the studio, plus make sure my buds are okay. But I considered it last night and concluded that going out for any reason is too risky. I’ll call instead. Most of my weapons are here in the condo, anyway.”

She arose from the couch and started into her active warmups.

“Back to our schedule then. Nucleator runs this Wednesday, Unager runs Friday, and the Brokers drops the following Wednesday. Then it’s the Hats phone call interview next Thursday; the one Ears set up.”

Peter looked at his laptop. “Uh-huh. Ten in the morning. Don’t you think we should just cancel the Hats interview and find a way out of town?”

She had a pained look on her face and was breathing hard. “No. Let’s do this for Ears. And Peter, there’s no guarantee that Bemidji or wherever will be any better. Things should settle as the troops arrive. Oh, then there’s one more – the Stoic.”

“You serious about doing that one?”

“We need an end to this series, Peter. A conclusion. You can’t cover all this apocalyptic tech and leave listeners wondering what to do about it until the bad guys arrive. And we can’t build expectations in our fans that there’s more to come. We’re no longer doing Toxo, anyway.”

“True. Based on his recent email, I get the sense the guy was on the run. I hope to God he had nothing to do with these reports of Toxo derivatives being released everywhere. You get the bad feeling he either was involved or knew the dudes who were.”

“Cat feces. You can’t make this stuff up, can you? Isn’t it enough we create our own biotech warfare crap synthetically, and along comes a parasite in cat poop that some eight-year-old manipulates in his home science kit to drive us all insane? Our species is crazy enough without junior’s aberrant little experiments.”

Peter moved into the kitchen. “I’ll tell my parents to expect us within the next few weeks, okay? I’m assuming we can still rent a car and travel state to state without encountering massive traffic jams. I’ll keep running the numbers and monitoring the email. We didn’t get a pickup in threats after Oort Cloud. Only a mountain of emails from folks who empathized with the plight of the poor doctors.”

Molli started her circle-walking kung fu exercise.

“Nucleator is the only one left who’s threatening,” she said. “Unager, the Brokers, even Hats – they’re tepid in comparison. The nasty emails and even our mech problems should start diminishing once those last three play, then we can top it off with philosophy. A good, calming plan.”

* * *

Peter and Molli sat around the coffee table before their interview on Thursday morning. Although both mourned Ears’ death from the prior week, they coped in different ways. Molli exercised, doing her martial arts for eight hours each day despite her injuries. From her studies of Eastern mysticism and the great Stoic philosophers, she understood that death was a natural part of life, allowing her to avoid excessive sorrow.

In contrast to Molli’s disciplined approach, Peter felt strangely distant. Although he had seen death at an early age when his brother died, he otherwise had only known the passing of distant friends or relatives.

The acuteness of Ears’ incident was most impactful for him. He was now sleeping in Ears’ bed, using the toiletries in his bathroom, and unable to avoid pictures of Ears’ family showing throughout the room. Even the vidscreen savers displayed videos and stills of family and friends. Peter felt it was inappropriate to change anything this soon after his death.

Beyond Ears’ charming but subtle personality and humor, Peter missed the help that he provided with the podcast. Ears was no longer there to provide continual updates on local and global happenings, and the news was becoming more compelling by the minute. Peter’s coping consisted mostly of what Ears would otherwise have done: he spent most of his time checking news feeds in the kitchen from his laptop.

Oort Cloud and the Nucleator had run the previous Friday and Wednesday, and Peter noticed that the numbers indicated modest growth in listeners.

“Molli, we sure could use Ears’ help right now to keep the momentum going. He was so adept at monitoring these feeds and stats.”

“I doubt if that matters, given the social disarray we’re seeing. I’m surprised every morning that we still have internet access, water, and electricity. The fact that anyone is listening to us seems an afterthought.”

“Been in touch with your PD friend or detectives?”

“Not even. They’re unreachable. You don’t want to be in their shoes, the world going insane as it is. Our little brushes with death and threats are almost laughable with what I assume they’re encountering every minute.”

Peter nodded in agreement. “We should get ready.”

Because Ears was always tied-in to listener feeds and chat, he could provide them with notes and visual cues to help guide the conversation. They now had to do without that help. Molli arranged the mixer and recorder, and Peter started the podcast.

“A sad note to our listeners today at the start of this show. Ears, our mutual friend with whom most of you are familiar, died in a plane crash Friday. No cause was provided, and it may be weeks or months before we find out details given that most Federal agencies are full-up with other pressing national security matters.”

His voice cracked as he continued.

“We loved Ears. He was both a great friend and significant force in driving the success of this podcast. The guy is irreplaceable, and we’ll miss him to no end.”

Peter paused and grabbed a tissue to wipe his tears.

“And on that unfortunate note, I’ll introduce our guest on the call today. He is a global expert in the technology of mind control via external means. It’s typically used for offensive or defensive uses. We are calling him ‘Hats’ since part of today’s discussion dives into the use of hat-like devices to prevent your decisions and actions from being manipulated by external agents. Hats, can you give a brief history of mind manipulation technologies?”

“Sure, Peter, and thanks for having me on today. My condolences to you, Molli, and Ears’ friends and family. It’s the adage of ‘when it rains, it pours,’ I suppose. You’re in the Boston area, and like many places in the states, law enforcement and the military have been facing huge challenges these last few weeks. We’re seeing too much violence and unrest in the streets, and there’s no excuse. I don’t envy these heroes, and I worry for this great country and the world at large.”

“We’re in complete agreement,” Molli confirmed.

“Personally, I’m skeptical an alien attack is imminent or whether it will ever occur. Even if it is on the brink, our attempts at a response are likely to fall short by many orders of magnitude. This threat is like Godzilla – he either emerges from the ocean and flattens your town with fire, or he doesn’t. There is no in between and little you can do to impact that outcome. I imagine your listeners heard an earful of that conversation already, so I’ll only touch on implications of the obelisk and network neuroscience, or ‘net neu’ tech.”

Peter added, “We’re recording this for a future playout date. Most listeners will have had their fill of obelisk-related news by that time, if not already.”

“Great, then. A short history of net neu. It started in early forms last century with device-to-brain electrode implants controlled by external systems for those with physical disabilities. This tech was hybridized in myriad ways, and its use took off by the early 2020’s. Asia was the global leader. At the time, certain countries required transit operators, for example, to wear headgear so they could control their actions while operating vehicles like subway trains. After experiencing great results from the first implementations, they extended headgear requirements to other workers. Ultimately to citizens at large.”

“Before you go further,” Peter wondered, “can you touch on the social aspects of mind control that arose from this application?”

“Few aspects ever made the headline news. It simply became accepted, with the exceptions of our country and other Western democracies. Put yourself in the shoes of those governments who had deployed cameras and face rec ubiquitously. They already knew your comings and goings, your tastes and vices, how you spent your money, your political persuasions, the color of your socks, and how much toilet paper you used. Added to this, they implemented point-based incentives to guide your behavior, a subtle or not-so-subtle form of societal control. You can argue the philosophical questions around right or wrong, but that degree of centralized planning was and still is apparently effective and efficient for them.”

“To what degree did mind control exist at that time? Many listeners should be familiar with this tech by now but not entirely its applications.”

“Net neu tech allows a centralized authority to decode or decipher what your brain is thinking, then direct or guide your thoughts. Here’s an easy example in commercial applications. Say you clean restrooms at a large furniture store. Occasionally, your natural inclination might be to head outside for an extended smoke break. The headgear recognizes that spark or signal in your mind and mitigates it with a set of commands, so you go clean the toilet bowls instead. It’s akin to a noise cancellation system, but you’re canceling an idea or potential action instead of a sound.”

“And this tech is a requirement now, even with visitors to these countries?” Molli queried.

“Yes, and it can be a rude awakening for anybody who hasn’t traveled overseas lately. There was initial resistance, but it became a two-steps-forward thing, incrementing itself into acceptability. You’ve heard that adage about smaller incremental changes that never get noticed but are the most effective. It’s the long game versus the short.”

“These systems are now being embedded in people, correct? It’s not as if they’re wearing headgear any longer,” she speculated.

“Net neu chips became much easier to embed and maintain than headgear. Plus, there was the practical side of keeping that bulky old stuff on your head at all times. A few countries still allow both types, but chippers are predominant these days.”

Peter was unsettled at the general concept.

“The obvious question is around how the individuals controlled by these devices can determine which actions are of their own volition? Do they care whether they can make independent decisions?”

Hats began breathing heavily into the mic.

“Over the last decade, this tech has become integrated into the human ecosystem. It’s now the norm for a variety of reasons, at least in certain regions. People are willing to give up independence for something one might call ‘state of the mind’ or even ‘mind of the state’ for an interesting play on words. Many individuals actually prefer augmentation that provides a constant connection into a controlling entity, be that the company they work for, the gym they go to for workouts, or the government overseeing their daily activities.”

Molli was agitated. “I don’t think I’d ever give up my mind.”

“Understood. However, one could perceive these folks gave up their sense of self to a collective or controlling entity, however that might be interpreted. It’s not like these augmented folks don’t retain a fair semblance of personal characteristics. They still perceive they’re individuals. A mix of collective and individual. This is the net neu reality, at least for the few billion humans it applies to today.”

“From your own viewpoint, should net neu mind control be condemned or condoned?” Molli questioned.

“I’m an old school Libertarian, I guess. I can’t tell people what they can and can’t do with their brains or the societies they create. Look at the chippers in our country. I can’t command them not to plug into the Internet via a temple chip, or not to embed a security chip in their palm, or a million other variations on that theme.”

“Given what you know,” Peter asked, “would you consider it for yourself?”

“Look. My son is a teenager and most of his friends chucked their cellphones for chips almost from birth. It’s an easier way to connect and doesn’t depend on always holding a device in your hands. But back to your point. Mind control is and always has been the name of the game. Spouses want to control their mate’s behavior or desires. Companies desire more productive workers. Advertisers want to convince shoppers to buy. Social networks and gaming companies use the tech to ensure continued use of their products. Not in the least, governments hope to control individuals for their own societal purposes. I can’t tell them not to do that.”

“Then we’re at a good point to shift the conversation to your own views and any concerns you may have,” Peter requested.

“Fine. Staying with that Libertarian thought for a minute. A few years ago, it became clear that as an expert in this field, net neu tech was being used on individuals and groups with little or no awareness they were being controlled. I don’t mind if people overtly choose or are gently coerced. But when they aren’t aware, that just feels wrong.”

“How does someone control your mind without you being aware?”

“I’ll give you an example. A large AR theater company wanted to sell more popcorn. They tried this to modest success by placing more popcorn ads on screen before the movie begins. Then they had the brainchild to invest in net neu tech declassified from the military. These systems employed hypersensitive devices that picked up on brain energies of individuals, for instance, who weren’t hungry for popcorn. They used the net neu tech to emit just the right intracranial radio or ultrasonic transmissions to customers to convince them they were famished for popcorn. At first, it worked like a charm, so much so that the company bought many more popcorn machines.”

“Getting hungry at the thought,” Peter observed.

“And that’s what finally tipped off the Feds. Yet the Feds can’t stop what they aren’t aware of, especially if it’s cheap and easy to obtain and operate, as it is these days. If that was done in our little hometown theater example, can you imagine the larger commercial applications? Consider when you’re on a car lot with the plaid-suited salesman.”

“I need to go back for a second,” Molli insisted. “How did net neu tech go from simple headsets, to integrated chips, to short-distance wireless control?”

“Good question, Molli. It’s all just physics and energy. First, they invented a hat that sends a pulse through the cranium to the targeted location in the brain, down to the specific neuron even. That’s old tech by now. Then research institutes and defense agencies worked on external systems that required no physical device on the head. Like every other tech in history, it starts with a fixed application and migrates to wireless as the apps and equipment are perfected. No different here. In effect, the human head becomes nothing more than a smart antenna to receive targeted instructions from a centralized source.”

“Got it, thanks. So, what are you proposing relative to this?”

“Back to the Libertarian perspective, Peter. What if you value your individual decision-making capabilities and don’t want your local grocery store covertly encouraging you to buy the more expensive brand of peanut butter? Or what if you don’t want your police department directing you not to jaywalk across the street? Or what if you want to be sure your vote in the booth is your own vote and not what the incumbent party or building owner is surreptitiously pressing into your skull?”

“How the hell would you ever find out?” Molli wondered. “It sounds like most of these systems are similar to the plethora of cameras around the globe. You can’t see them but they can see you. You can’t control them but they control you. Is that the idea?”

“Well spoken. That’s why we are seeing a new set of devices coming to market to mitigate the effects of this radiant energy and its ability to control your thoughts. Admittedly, many of these products aren’t presently that attractive to wear because you need to cover the better portion of your skull to offset or scatter the intruding signals.”

Peter wanted to give the audience a visual concept of what was being discussed. “What are these mitigating helmets or hats comprised of?”

“Have you ever been to Arizona and seen the stucco houses everywhere? If you have, you’ll find it’s hard as hell to get a mobile signal indoors due to the wire mesh that stucco needs as a framework. The devices coming to market provide protections against net neu directed energy in a similar way. They often use multiple aluminum and metal meshes of varying sizes, coupled with other proprietary signal blocking tech.”

Molli laughed. “I can’t imagine wearing a stucco hat.”

“It’s not quite as bad as that, and we’re always improving the form factors. We’re getting to three-nines reliability on shielding. Our testing has found no radiant systems capable of regularly getting through to brain tissue while using these devices, save for a transmitter directly atop your head. Beyond the head protection devices, there’s new development for emitting an aura or crown of defensive, neutralizing energy around the skull. However, those systems are still in trials.”

“That’s a great summary, but we should wind this podcast down. I need to ask a final question. Does this net neu tech correlate to the obelisk in any aspect?”

There was a long moment of silence.

“Still there?” Molli inquired.

“Yes, I’m still here. Again, I’m trusting you will not expose anything about me personally when I expose this.”

“You’re in good hands,” Peter assured him. “We’ll edit this call.”

He paused again. “You both are probably too young to remember. Long ago, there was a big scare regarding subliminal media advertising. It was the kind where they flash a burger joint clip mid-program. The clip came and went so fast, your brain didn’t know it saw anything. After the show, you’re hungry for one of those burgers. That was nearly a hundred years ago, and here we are today.”

“And we’re still hungry for that burger,” Peter joked.

He failed to laugh. “So, imagine you want to push your subliminal ad to all residents across the city. You can’t do that on the mass media since there are restrictive laws and other means to audit your actions. But what if you took a little radiant dish and drove around town with it on your car roof, blasting out those desired signals? That’s not much of an issue if they’re only pushing a desire for a hamburger with fries to your brain. But it is an issue if they’re pushing other stuff.”

“Like what other stuff?” Molli asked.

“Anarchy. Fear. Anger. Revenge. Victim behavior. Hatred. Bigotry. I’ll stop there. Need to go. Thanks, you two.”

He hung up without allowing Peter to properly close. He was stunned that he couldn’t even give a proper goodbye.

Then Molli glanced at the news and gasped aloud. “Oh, my God, Peter, look at the feeds coming in! Massive deaths in Europe and elsewhere. This is the first time where I’m seeing numbers. People falling dead in the streets. It was only minor rumors in a few reports yesterday, and now it’s exploding.”

“Shit! I read something yesterday, too, and saw early analysis on it from feeds this morning. Assumed it was typical fake news crap. Groups of scientists were suggesting it could be the return of the Bubonic Plague or something.”

Molli kept reading. “It says people young and old are dying while walking or sleeping, many without prior symptoms like fevers or boils. Nobody appears safe. I’ll view the national news clips.”

“Yeah, I’m searching now. Jesus, look at downtown Paris!”

“I see Istanbul – a similar thing. Appears it started in Amsterdam or Belgium, with an act of terror implication.”

“Are you seeing anything about the cause?”

“A little right here,” she claimed, reading the live feed. “It appears to be a result of a cocktail of biologics, both synthetic and non. They even mention Toxo in this feed. I mean, who’d put together a mess of this virulent crap like we’ve been covering?”

Peter was immediately worried. “I hope it’s not one of our listeners. I mean, we’re just reporting on this tech. It’s not like we’re suggesting everyone go out and buy a nuclear grenade.”

“Yeah, Peter, but who just said it? Back to the low bar and high bar. Nukes had that high bar, and this geedee stuff is part of that twelve-year-old’s home science kit. Plus, who knows how many sickos are out there who’d do this intentionally?”

Peter’s brow furrowed. “Both Stu and Oort Cloud referenced this in their own way. A cocktail of geedee. God, after what we reported on, I imagine that noxious beverage could include any horrific thing. Want to force others to integrate mammalian varint tech into their bodies? Spread it around. Want to push new synbio around town? Lots of possible vectors there. Human touch, breath, wind, water, rats, flies, roaches.”

Molli kept reading while talking. “Yeah, but what a stretch to think it could move that quickly or in such large numbers.”

“I hear you, but with geedee skin rubs and gene scrolling, the nine yards of vector transmission opportunities are there for the taking. If you could turn back fifty years, the authorities would get clued-in if some wacko purchased equipment and chemicals to manufacture a deadly nerve agent. They’d be alerted and hunt you down. It’s hard to do that when you can get whatever geedee tech you desire via same day drone delivery. Define your molecular cocktail requirements, then open the package and start playing around.”

Molli was pale. “We’re jumping to conclusions, Peter. But I am worried that this looks like a big city problem. If the transmission vector has anything to do with proximity to other people, then we’re facing societal disarray on a scale never encountered, even compared to the recent pandemics.”

“And there’s enough chaos without this. It’s like having all the world wars simultaneously, then you add a Bubonic Plague,” Peter added. “The problem is, we now have things like jets and other transportation that can carry anything rapidly from continent to continent. No doubt it already has. Depending on its transmissibility, this could make Coronavirus and the others seem like child’s play.”

They looked at each other and deduced the same thing.

“Everyone will come to this same conclusion. Get out of the city, get to your bunker in the Nevada desert, and pray you survive,” Molli choked.

“Timing is critical.”

“What are you considering?” she asked.

“You should go to my parent’s house now.”

“Why wouldn’t you come with me?”

“Do you remember that old podcast we did, an early one? Something about game theory and riddles and splitting your bets?”

She was perturbed. “I don’t get it. Why does that matter?”

“Do you remember the guy posed a question of a similar nature? It was about a boat and two people who have the choice to stay on shore with near certain death or sail across the roiling sea to slightly less certain death.”

She scratched her head. “Hmm, I don’t recall that one. Maybe you did it alone.”

“A long, long time ago. The answer was almost always a coin toss. Both could stay and risk a greater likelihood of dying, or one could stay and the other could sail to the new land but risk death by sinking during the journey. Or they both could sail. The coin toss is altered by the consideration that it’s better to split your bets. Similar to blackjack logic if the cards you possess are bad ones.”

“I do not want to leave without you. Period.”

Peter sat back on the couch and crossed his legs. “I understand. Feelings are mutual. But we must be practical, right? You’re always the pragmatic one, so I’d think you’d be convincing me instead of vice versa. What of the other factors and risks? What if either location is out of electricity or city facilities? It’s probably a lesser chance that both are. If we stay here together, we may not be able to run the podcasts. I’d bet that rural areas are safer, being more reliant upon their local systems. Yet, there’s the trip aspect to balance the risk. And think of it, Molli. You are leagues more capable of defending yourself out there than I. If someone shook a stick at me, I’d die right on the spot.”

Molli laughed uncomfortably and stood up from her chair to sit next to Peter. “You’re serious.”

“Yes. The rental car is charged up, so you don’t need to stop. You can take 90 to 94, bypassing Chicago slightly, which I’m sure will be as tenuous as the other major cities. We’ll get you packed-up with a load of food and water to last you for days, if it takes that long. You should be able to activate your cellphone once you get out of this area where the mechs are prevalent. We can communicate at agreed times and even use codewords to signal trouble.”

“Codewords? This sounds like a movie script.”

“Let me think,” he mused, rubbing his chin. “Two easy ones. Remember the misspelling as ‘waening’ from that article? That’s a good one. Use that if you’re in trouble, but not major danger. Then we should create a more extreme one, like ‘Washington.’ Use that if your life is in danger.”

“Peter, I’m playing along here and need to ponder it more. But right now, we’re better together than apart.”

“You can ponder all you want, but please consider this. It’s Thursday morning. We’re just now seeing more conclusive news reports. Not everyone has tuned-in yet, and the national news is just picking it up. People will be very afraid, and fear spreads like wildfire. It will take everyone hours to strategize and prepare, so you have only a few hours to get started on the roads. To get far enough away from city traffic and the entire East Coast. Leaving will be horrifically risky later tonight and into the weekend. In my opinion, you go right now or never.”

“Come with me?” she pleaded, her eyebrows raised.

Peter suddenly felt stirred. The warmth of her hand, her hopeful smile. “Stop, Peter. More important things,” he thought.

“Go consider what I said.”

“I need to take a shower,” she advised as she rubbed his lower thigh for a moment. “Best to start preparing for the trip in the event I come out positive on your idea.”

“Great!” he exclaimed. “Sorry we don’t have hours to ponder. I’ll grab trash bags and start piling food in. We can take out a couple of those large jugs of water. You’re driving to a state with ten thousand lakes. Once you’re there, Toxo-tainted water should be the least worry on your mind.”

“How far?”

“I’ve done it in twenty-two hours at good speed,” he replied as she rose and walked into the bedroom.

A few minutes later, he heard the water stop.

“Peter, come in here,” Molli yelled through her closed bedroom door.

While she was in the shower, Peter had prepared the garbage bags with food. When she called to him, he was back on the couch checking the news feeds.

“Sure, what’s up?” he asked as he opened her unlocked door.

Molli was still wet from the shower. Two pink cotton towels were wrapped around her. A smaller one around her head, and a larger one draped around her body.

“I was thinking,” she began. “I’ll go soon, but there’s a small chance we may never see each other again. You know me. Practical and pragmatic and maybe even a little crazy.”

She undraped her towels. “Now’s the time. Let’s get this done. Let’s make this connection, since it could be our last.”

Peter was stunned, not even thinking in this realm. He closed his eyes, as if he had not seen her.

“Are you serious?”

He sensed the welling up inside of him again, then felt her hands creep around his waist to lift his shirt.

“Never been more serious.”

He opened his eyes, and they caressed.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Molli jumped up from the bed.

“I’ll bring my weapons.” She turned to see Peter still under the covers. “Shall I leave you any?”

He was in a daze and didn’t want to interrupt his brief personal afterglow with the harsh reality facing them.

“No,” he replied, slowly rising to the bed’s edge. “They’d be used against me,” he laughed. “I’m sure gun shops are either closed or out of stock by now. I’ll have to live by my wits, which are lately fewer in number.”

“I hope our little tryst doesn’t weaken your resolve to get through this mess alive.”

“No, Molli. Strengthens it.”

“That’s good. Me too. I’ll report to your parents on your performance here today, as I’m sure they’ll want to know.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled. “I’ll email them now, and you’ll arrive to open arms. They’ll wonder why I didn’t come with you, but you have the whole day and night to ponder a response to that question.”

“It’s good we did this. We needed a strong bond to help us through. I’m fine with stress and have worked so much of my life to drive fear from my psyche. It’s like a rock in your shoe you can’t take out. Sometimes it sticks at the middle of the heel and hurts like hell, and other times it lays hidden under the arch. Either way, it’s a constant companion and must be managed in stressful times.”

Peter finished dressing. “I won’t expect anything when I get there, or when you come back here. I know we’re in an extreme situation, and things like this happen.”

She walked around to the edge of the bed where Peter was tying his tennis shoes.

“Peter,” she emphasized, lifting his jaw up to peer into his eyes. “One day at a time. I enjoyed this. We were close anyway, just closer now. To be honest, I had thoughts before and never acted on them. Look, I need to get out of here before the proverbial shit hits the fan on the roads.”

“I’m not going anywhere for the next few weeks, not unless they torch the place. I can’t imagine this anarchy would spread to Bemidji. And you’d like to assume the CDC and others are actively on the case. Remember the Ebola and Coronavirus outbreaks? There are contingency plans for cases like this, or at least I hope they have them. It should be cleared-up in a few weeks. Then we can decide if it’s best for me to go there or for you to come back here. Besides, I saw news that the National Guard and Army are making progress in a few cities.”

Molli ran into the bathroom to pack her things, then loaded a large roller bag of clothing.

“I need my weapons. We’ll walk out with them together. You keep the saber, though. That alone should be enough to stop any mech or other deviant from approaching you unless they have a gun. They won’t know you are totally incompetent with it.”

She laughed. “I’ll take both steel swords on the way out. Double sword is my love. If I were to ever check-out for good, I’d want those in my hands. Besides, my spear won’t fit in the car without sticking out through the open window, which I don’t want to do on this long, cold drive. Can you carry my bag in your other hand?”

Peter grinned as he picked up the saber, the curved blade feeling off-weight to him.

“I never noticed that it’s razor sharp. Thought these were just for practice.”

She smiled at him, “It can maim or kill in an instant. As we talked a few minutes ago, please find another vehicle to ensure you can drive to Bemidji if necessary. You might go back to your car rental place in Cambridge, assuming they’ll let you rent another. The cameras at the Square show the streets are desolate. Most of the students have gone home, I’m sure, and I haven’t read about significant disruptions in that part of town. Either way, I’d go in daylight. If you are in contact with my PD friend Sal or that handsome Detective Ramirez, tell them where I am. I doubt that will happen, though. Bigger fish are on their plates, especially now.”

Peter was not ready to face the reality of their plan and began backpedaling. “You don’t have to leave. You could stay here.”

“Peter!” Molli demanded. “Let’s not go back over this. The plan is sound with offsetting risks on both sides. Electricity could shut off here at any moment. Now, let’s shove this armoire away from the door. Hope you can set it back in place without me.”

After pushing the armoire aside, Peter unlocked the door to peek outside. It was a cold, gray morning in Boston, and the weather report showed light flurries.

“Hope you brought your jackets,” he said, peering to the right and left. “I see nothing suspicious out here. Can’t even imagine us still being on anyone’s radar given this morning’s news. A few people are in the lot packing-up their car, so we should be safe. I’ll take the roller with one of the bags of food on top. Can you get the water?”

Molli lunged forward to hug him. “Peter, we can’t do this outside. I want to get in the car as fast as possible, then head out of town.”

He held her, reveling for a moment in the softness of her neckline.

“Enough,” she instructed, pushing him away and grabbing the water jugs bound together by a looped bungee cord. She cast them over her shoulder then grabbed one of the garbage bags of food in one hand, with her swords in the other.

“Let’s go!”

They hurried down the stairs toward the car, their heads pivoting left and right like birds on a wire. Seeing only the two people who were getting into their car, they felt it was the prime moment to leave since most other people were likely either staying put to wait-out the threat, or in the process of packing their belongings.

They stashed the water jugs behind the driver’s seat and the two garbage bags of food in the back seat footwells. Molli placed her two swords in the front passenger seat, and Peter set the roller bag in the trunk.

She put the car in reverse. “Hug you when we see each other again.”

She backed out, then stopped. Two other men were coming down the stairs, and she wasn’t certain how they so quickly appeared. Pointing through the window to alert Peter, she watched cautiously with one foot on the accelerator and the other foot on the brake, her right hand holding the swords. Peter stood frozen, with the saber held by the pressure of his elbow against the ribs.

The men were talking as they reached the bottom stair.

“Do I attempt to use this thing?” Peter wondered.

With his back to the men, he kept staring at Molli, waiting for a verbal cue. His heart was beating from his chest and cold sweat dripped down his brow.

Molli watched every movement as they turned to the left, a few yards behind Peter. They didn’t look like mechs to her, but many of the recent mechs were indistinguishable from non-varints.

The two men walked a few yards past Peter to a car in the lot, and she heard the telltale beep of the door locking system. Both men got in the car, and it backed out. Peter stayed frozen, and Molli signaled him not to move.

The car started forward as if to exit the parking lot. Then Molli saw the brakes and reverse lights flash back on, a sign the driver was putting his car in park. The door opened, and the driver exited while yelling at the other man in the passenger’s seat.

“If it’s a mech ploy,” she whispered, “I’ll make sure they go down with us.”

After a moment, the driver got back inside, and the car exited the parking lot. Molli’s left hand was on the steering wheel, and her index finger was still elevated. She lowered it and nodded slightly.

Peter was soaking wet, amplified by the coldness of the saber metal beneath his arm. He nodded back, closing his eyes for a moment. Molli drove the car from the lot and onto the street, only taking off after making sure that Peter got back safely up the stairs and into the condo.