After wandering around the outskirts of town and ignoring his grandma’s calls on his watch, Jackson finally returned to the house just after dark. He muttered a stiff apology to Jane and then went to his room without anything to eat. Content with the quiet, if not tense, atmosphere, Jane let him go. Jackson threw himself onto his bed and lost himself scrolling through the pages of his Djinncyclopedia projected from his holo-watch.

When the anger finally burned low, he realized he had no other choice now. If he wanted to pursue his dream of becoming a tamer, he had to leave. Sure, it wouldn’t be easy. For starters, he had to buy a Djinn and a ring on a loan, but Jackson would work hard, dedicate himself to training, and if everything worked out just right, he knew he could make enough money fighting in local bouts. If he worked quickly enough, he could even stall the bank closing on the house. But the only way that would be possible was to leave his grandmother’s tyranny.

Jackson shoved his last clean T-shirt, a few pairs of socks, underwear, and a pair of jeans into his backpack. Double-checking the room once more for anything else he’d need, he shouldered the bag and crossed the room, careful not to step on any creaky floorboards. Closing his bedroom door behind him, a pang of guilt stabbed at Jackson. Once again, his mother’s words played through his head: take care of Grandma while I’m gone…take care of Grandma while I’m gone. Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he reasoned he was doing the only thing he could to keep that promise.

He wrote a note — Jane still liked to keep old-fashioned pen and paper around to send novelty letters to her friends. In it, he told his grandma that he’d be back. That he was sorry she didn’t understand but that he promised he would find the money. That was it. No details about where he was going, nothing. As soon as Jane found out he was missing, Jackson knew she’d call the cops. It wouldn’t be long before they were looking for him — jumping town on the light rail was the only way he could get far enough away fast enough. Luckily he had a little bit of money in his account from Sato Breeders…oh yeah. By leaving he was pretty much quitting, too. He’d have to remember to call them at some point before his next shift.

But that was all stuff to figure out down the road. Right now, Jackson just wanted to get away — to give himself a chance to succeed without being held back. He padded down the stairs into the kitchen. He was almost out the door when he realized he’d didn’t even know where his next meal was coming from. Frustrated at this obvious oversight, he carefully set his backpack down on the kitchen chair and began plundering the fridge and cupboards.

As soon as he opened the smart fridge he realized his mistake.

“You are low on milk — shall I reorder?” A pleasant woman’s voice came from the fridge, sending Jackson’s heart pounding.

“Command not heard. You are low on milk — shall I —”

“No!” Jackson hissed as the fridge began her question again, echoing off the linoleum floor and threatening to awaken his grandmother. “No, shut up!”

The voice mercifully faded, allowing Jackson to grab a few cheese sticks and apples out of the fridge. He paused, listening with bated breath for the sound of his grandmother stirring upstairs. After several long moments, he let out a quiet sigh and stuffed the items into his bag. Before he closed the fridge, he looked at the “low milk” prompt on the door and placed a quick order for half a gallon. Grandma liked putting it in her coffee in the mornings.

Next, he went to the cupboards and plundered a bag of trail mix and Bovan jerky. Thankfully, nobody had invented smart cupboards yet, he thought.

With provisions in his bag, Jackson threw it over his shoulder and made his way to the front door. When his hand touched the knob, he froze. The silent house seemed to bear down around him and all he could hear was the pounding of his heart. Jackson reached for the door handle one more time, his teeth gritted, but when his hand landed, he found himself unable to push his hand down and commit.

He glanced over his shoulder, looking down the hallway at the closed door of his mother’s office. This was it. He didn’t know when he’d be back again. Almost automatically, the bag slid from Jackson’s shoulder and landed softly on the floor. He wasn’t going anywhere without saying goodbye to Mom.

Placing one hand on the doorframe to keep it from squeaking, Jackson unlocked the room and slipped inside. He looked around the office and felt its familiar embrace…until the thought of the assessor slapping a price tag on all of his mother’s things struck him. As another wave of anger washed over him, Jackson walked around and lowered himself into the leather chair behind the desk. The supple upholstery made no sound as he sank into the seat. He took in the familiar surroundings, committing it to memory — not that he’d ever really forget any of it.

His eyes fell on the crooked picture on the wall behind her desk and a pang of remorse struck him. Who would be here to set it straight when he was gone? Jackson rose from the office chair and straightened the frame, as he’d done many times before, but unlike so many times before it fell to the ground with a loud thump.

Jackson bit back a curse and winced. After a few moments of silence, he chastised himself mentally for being so clumsy and he reached down to pick up the edge of the frame. Jane slept light, and the last thing he needed to do was get caught because of something stupid.

Standing up to place the picture back on its hanger, Jackson’s breath caught in his throat. On the wall behind the space where the picture had hung was a black screen about twice as tall as his hand and a little less wide.

“What in the…?”

Jackson couldn’t ever remember seeing the screen before, not when his mom had occupied the office or anytime after. He’d straightened the picture hundreds of times and never noticed it in the years since his mom’s disappearance, either. Resisting the urge to put the picture on its hook and get out of the house before he screwed himself over, Jackson reached up and tapped the black screen with a finger.

He almost fell back in surprise when the screen flashed and a command prompt and digital keyboard, appeared.

PASSWORD:_______________

None of this made any sense. His mother had a handful of tablets she’d done all of her research on. She’d taken everything with her — with holo-projection technology you could use a tablet smaller than your hand to project a display in mid-air the size of a monitor. With a traveling computer, it made no sense to have something embedded in the wall. At first, Jackson thought it might be digital photo display. He quickly dismissed the idea. Why would a photo-video display need a password?

Without thinking, he typed in a wild stab at the password. The screen flashed.

PASSWORD INCORRECT

Jackson tried several more with no luck, and his desire to get out quietly was overtaken by his curiosity. After the last one (J8cks0n — one his mom had written down in the keeper in her desk drawer) failed as well, a new command promptly appeared on the screen:

ACCESS DENIED>

PASSWORD FAILED. INSECURE LOGIN SECURITY ENABLED. PASSCODE LOCKED PLEASE USE HAND-SCAN FOR ACCESS.

The digital keyboard bleeped away, leaving a grid in its place with horizontal and vertical lines sliding back and forth across the surface.

“Great — fine, Mom, I don’t want to know what you’re hiding anyway,” Jackson muttered to himself. He was about to leave the room when he paused and looked back at the scanner again. The thought of “what if?” crossed his mind. Knowing it would drive him crazy if he didn’t at least give it a try, Jackson returned to the screen.

Pulling back his sleeve from his wrist, Jackson raised a hand. His palm hovered a moment away from the screen and a strange tingling sensation gripped the nape of his neck before trickling down his back. It felt like someone was watching him. Breathless, Jackson turned around, but the room was still empty.

Jackson shook his head and tried to get a grip. He raised his hand and pressed it against the screen in one motion. The vertical and horizontal lines passed back and forth over his palm, scanning his fingerprints.

Nothing happened. Jackson pressed harder.

“C’mon, dammit — do something!”

Again, nothing happened.

After leaning into the screen with all of his weight, Jackson jerked his hand away, angry at his mom for whatever game this was.

The screen went white.

Jackson froze in place, staring. All at once, a line of black text flashed in the center of the display.

ACCESS GRANTED

The screen went blank again.

A whirring sound, accompanied by a click, followed and Jackson noticed the hinges moving on the left side of the screen. All at once it fell open, revealing a few faint shapes sitting in the dark safe. Jackson held his breath, straining to hear any sound of his grandma stirring.

And then he reached into the safe.