Rupert pried out the tarnished bronze plaque behind the dumpster. He reached into the small hollow and pulled out a Beyul One-point-Zero connection sphere.

A mottled blue blotch swirled through mercury looking sphere.

This was step one on the Tapan-Emergency-Departure-Plan — one of several plans. Tapan had taken the old hardware in the orb and upgraded a few select parts — the splash of color was a clear indicator of his tampering. Then Tapan had wiped the apps and then loaded particular versions of selected apps.

The whole process was beyond Rupert, but he had dutifully memorized each step that he needed to perform.

What Rupert knew about the One-point-Zero spheres was limited to Tapan recounting Beyul Corporation legends.

And those legends started with the sphere’s initiation sequence which didn’t always identify body location correctly — defaulting to the prior body part. Then the stories combined the strange sensations of the nanorobots positioning themselves. Although accounts vary, within the week, people had the Beyul connection spheres giving them blow jobs or had swapped spheres for other Beyul account holders for intimate forms of connection. While all the problems which led to erotic use had been solved by Beyul One-point-Two, the ‘Classic Feel’ apps remained highly popular downloads.

Rupert stared at the connection sphere and wondered if Tapan had left him any ‘messages’ within the startup sequence. Then he shook his head.

Tapan would want nothing to distract from an emergency bolt.

Rupert unzipped the House onesie and pressed the orb against his chest and zipped back up the onesie. He began walking toward the fifty-year-old detention center with its gun slit windows. With each of his steps, the nanorobots marched to their proper positions to completely cover his body. Each nanorobot pushed water from the rainstorm away from his skin.

“Connecting to Beyul default network. Warning. Default network is out of date. Services are limited. Warning. Beyul connection suit is out of date. Do you wish to upgrade?”

“No.”

“Should I remind you to install the [183] security updates?”

“No.”

“Should I install the [183] security updates when the suit is recharging next?”

“No.”

“Warning: Suit power is at 15%. Without the [sleep mode] app, the suit integrity will be compromised upon battery failure. Should I download the [sleep mode] app now?”

“No. Skip all download and update questions.”

“Acknowledged.”

Rupert stopped outside the cameras’ ranges. He took in a deep breath. He hated this piece of the plan. “Activate Zombie mode. Play Tapan’s Escape.”

“Activating full-body VR mode. Interactive identity masking is now in effect. Tapan’s Escape is now playing.”

An AR green path line appeared on the ground before Rupert. Pulses ran along the path.

He started walking just fast enough to remain within a pair of pulses. He jogged up the stairs toward the arc of windows and glass doors. The handicap doors opened for him.

A pair of guards turned toward him. They went from silver-sheened individuals to full chrome zombies. Their black eyes slid past him without stopping or slowing.

He walked through the metal detector.

One of the other zombie guards reached up to reset the machine off without even glancing at him. Another zombie guard nodded to him.

Rupert walked through the security maze and headed for the employee locker room.

Security doors unlocked and opened as he approached.

A locker near in the corner of the locker room glowed with a green outline.

“Warning: Suit power is at 12%. Suit integrity will be compromised upon battery failure. If the nanorobot connections fail, the suit will be destroyed and will be unrecoverable.”

That is kind of the point, Rupert thought. He opened the locker and pulled out the duffle Tapan left.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rupert saw a gout of flame. Heat and pressure shoved him sideways. Then he found himself on the floor — ears ringing.

Smoke filled the room. Bright lights flashing through the smoke.

The Beyul connection suit shifted colors as it returned to its chrome, zombie mode coloring.

“Warning: Suit protective mode only distributed 82.22% of the concussive wave. It is recommended that you seek immediate medical attention.

“Warning: Suit power is at 8%. Suit integrity will be compromised upon battery failure.

“Warning: Local Area is experiencing emergency conditions. Local area network and communications are unstable. Local power has been disrupted. Magnetic cell doors and security doors are malfunctioning. Atmospheric conditions are less than optimal for human health.

“Contingency route is being calculated … The alternative game route is now being displayed.”

The green pulses on the new AR path moved faster.

Rupert scrambled to his feet, grabbed the duffel, and nearly fell over. He steadied himself against a locker. He shook his head.

The world rushed to one side and then to the other.

He pushed off and headed for the door, but his path was not straight, and it was hard for him to stand upright. “Beyul can you compensate?”

“Negative. Suit upgrade to Beyul 1.6.78 is required to compensate for operator impairment. Suit hardware is incapable of supporting that upgrade.”

One-point-Six-point-Seventy-Eight, Rupert knew, was never released. He remembered something about the version required specialized hardware upgrades and something about resulting neurological issues and something about the entire patch being scrapped.

He reached the door and shoved.

The door moved an inch and then clanged against something.

“Beyul, the passage is blocked. Is there another way out?”

“Affirmative.”

Another AR path appeared on the floor. The pulses were faster.

Rupert moved as quickly as he could — pass the showers, down the stairs to the access corridor, and out the emergency exit into the garage. The world became more stable as he kept moving.

“Warning: Suit power is at 5%. Suit integrity is questionable. App functionality is erratic.”

Rupert shrugged. At this point, he could only go forward. There were margins for error, but there was only so many backup plans. He dropped off the loading dock and walked around the prisoner transports to the path leading to the street and sidewalk and the curtain of rain.

The metal gate usually separating the garage from the street lay upon the ground in a smoking, mangled mess.

Rupert made his way through the gate, turned at the street corner, and headed for MARTA station.

The Beyul suit kept the water off his skin, but the polyester onesie immediately clung to the nanorobots. Despite the heat of the rain, he was starting to feel cold.

“Warning: Suit power is at 2%. Suit integrity failu…”

The Beyul One-point-Zero connection suit turned to dust as the nanomachines shut down and separated from each other.

Rupert didn’t know if he had gotten out of range of the cameras and the ID scanners. He kept walking and hoped he could get outside the police cordons before they stopped him, searched the duffle, and discovered the illegal things Tapan had acquired for this plan.

Rupert huddled under the stairs — sheltered from the pounding rain and gusting wind as he finished removing the House jumpsuit. He released the jumpsuit.

It swirled in the confused currents under the rising stairs and vanished into the rain and night.

He had expected to see flashing lights and to hear sirens and to dodge police cars, but nothing.

With a shake of his head, he reached into the emergency duffle that Tapan had left and pulled out the latest Beyul connection sphere. He pressed the orb against his chest.

The nanorobots unfolded themselves and started spreading outward over his chest. Within seconds, the nanorobots identified where they were on his body and updated their positional data. In that instant, the real construction of the connection suit began. Nanorobots were transported over his skin, hauled into position, and locked into connection with their new neighbors — to drag the next nanorobot into position and synchronize their connections. Nanorobot functions changed according to their location. The ones near the eyes became monitor elements even as the OS began connecting to the Beyul Two-point-Zero Network. The nanorobots which flooded his hairline become electromagnetic receivers and transducers to better read brain patterns and stimulate senses not easily influenced from other locations.

Beyul said, “WARNING: Your current location is under a SEVERE WEATHER WARNING and a RECOMMENDED EVACUATION ORDER. Do you want directions to the nearest EVACUATION ROUTE or EMERGENCY SHELTER?”

“No.” Rupert concentrated putting on the sturdy maintenance worker uniform with steel-toe boots. “Connect to Emergency Operations feeds.”

“Negative. Emergency Operations Data is for emergency personnel, disaster workers, and first responders only.”

“Authorization: Tapan Auxiliary One.”

“Authorization accepted.”

What else am I supposed to do? Oh, yeah… “Erase all video and audio references to Rupert Ainsworth.”

“In progress. Due to severe weather, time to completion is unknown.”

“Zombie mode.”

“WARNING: It is DANGEROUS to block all external sensory data during SEVERE WEATHER. Loss of Beyul Connection is [Moderate Probability] during these conditions. Loss of Beyul Connection could result in PERMANENT injury, debilitation, amputation, or DEATH.”

“Zombie mode.”

The silvery sheen to his skin turned reflective as every nanorobot activated the visual and auditory outer layer. A Beyul calculated AR representation of the external world filled his senses.

“Camouflage mode.”

“WARNING: Combining Zombie Mode with Camouflage Mode is DANGEROUS during SEVERE WEATHER. Emergency workers will have difficulties locating you in the case of injury, debilitation, amputation, or death.”

“Camouflage mode.”

“Adaptive or Disruptive Camouflage?”

Huh? What’s the difference? “Both.”

“Sampling environmental colors and light patterns. Calculating camouflage matrix. Opposite side projections activated.”

Rupert saw an outline around his hands and arms. The space within the outline didn’t disappear into the background but became difficult to see limbs as arms and hands.

Need to get moving. He picked up the duffle, stuffed it into a garbage can between the outdoor tables, and set the incendiary timer. “Shit. I should have put my House onesie in there too. Damn.” He shrugged and walked away.

Seconds later, the magnesium liner of the duffle ignited — burning everything in the garbage can and melting and igniting the can too. The wind blew sparks, ashes, and flaming debris through the rainstorm. Within moments, only the charred remains too heavy for the wind to carry lay upon the scorched bricks of the plaza.

Now, what was the next step in Tapan’s run-away plan?

Rupert walked along the indicated route to the reversed address from the card Jason Algold showed to him. He trusted Beyul to keep him away from the worst of the flooding and out of the worst of the storm winds. Still, it was hard going even with Beyul’s warnings.

He wished Tapan had finished with his plans to get out of the city, but they ran out of time. Now he was left hoping Jason Algold could make good on a safe house and transportation to Colorado.

His stomach grumbled at him.

He stopped in one of the “safe zones” and pulled up the ration card which went along with the suit’s alternate identity.

Beyul said, “Today is listed as your day off. All calorie points are halved. Non-drinking water points are quartered. No open or operating vending machines, eateries, or convenience stores in proximity are within your daily caloric budget.”

Hunger in the House was nothing new, but Rupert had hoped buying out his contract would actually mean something. Not that he had — Mister Monte did the equivalent of shredding the contract, declaring Rupert free. Mister Monte had also warned against using any of the money in his actual account.

“Damn.”

Beyul continued, “You have triggered an Easter Egg — the hidden quest: ‘Shattered Realms’. Do you wish to be the first player to attempt: ‘Shattered Realms’?”

“No. I need to get out of the city.”

“All transportation out of the city has been terminated until further notice. Priority to all transportation forms and services, full rations, and other benefits are given to all players engaged in: ‘Shattered Realms’ for the duration of the quest. Do you wish to be the first player to attempt: ‘Shattered Realms’?”

“Will playing get me to Colorado?”

“Unknown. The authors provided no information. Author contact pages are out of date. All contact links are dead. Do you wish to be the first player to attempt: ‘Shattered Realms’?”

Rupert shook his head. “Why are you pushing this quest?”

Beyul remained unresponsive.

Rupert cut across the part of a parking garage which remained above the flood waters heading for the outlined stairwell.

“Developer: Tapan Salas.”

His breath caught wrong in his throat. “That is a low blow.” He climbed the half-flight of stairs and shoved hard against the door and wind to exit on to the street. “No.”

“You have 3:54:38 left to enter: ‘Shattered Realms’ to solve the mystery Tapan Salas left for you.”

Rupert grumbled. “Where is the closest safe place to play ‘Shattered Realms’ without injury or dying or being murdered?”

A second set of arrows and outlines appeared.

“Wait. Can others play too?”

Beyul went non-responsive.

Rupert continued to follow the first set.

“Affirmative. Additional player suits need to receive an upgrade to: ‘Beyul 2.0’ to access: ‘Shattered Realms’.”

“Can Jason Algold and his band qualify?” He reached the back door to a building. “Override the lock.”

The door swung open.

“Affirmative. Beyul Corporation agrees to upgrade and initiate Easter Egg offer to stated individuals.”

Rupert reread the statement. “This. This is.” His brain stalled. What am I trying to say?

“If the quest will get all of us safely to Denver Colorado, then ‘yes.’”

“Negative. All transport services leaving the city have been terminated. Reactivation date is unavailable and given damage to Port Birmingham and East Coast infrastructure, reactivation is estimated in the months.”

Rupert took in a deep breath. “I’m stuck in Atlanta?”

“Affirmative. Available Atlanta food stores, based on current citywide rations, are estimated to last sixteen days.”

“And if I play, I’ll be safe, fed, and healthy for the duration? No matter what?”

“Affirmative.”

Rupert knew that Beyul could not lie, but could be given bad data — although, with the amount of data it collected every second, its cross verifications made that harder to accomplish. He shivered against the hot rain and changed paths. “Accepted. Yes.”

The world went black.