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Category:
Literary Fiction
Publisher: Sortmind Press
ISBN-10: 1796784451
Pages: 422
Copyright: Feb. 13, 2019
ISBN-13: 9781796784459
Price: $3.99 (eBook)
Amid escalating political chaos and gang warfare, a startup company’s telepathic Sortmind app inadvertently Mindwipes countless citizens in its quest to acquire endless, unfathomable data. Oliver and Sam, two high school art students whose fathers head the reviled, fascist Citizens Against Telepathy, struggle to define themselves in the face of urban terrorism and the malfunctioning, reality-altering Sortmind.
An answer to any question is delivered in a telepathic instant, and our queries track the progress of a coming apocalypse. Amid escalating political chaos and gang warfare, a startup tech company’s Sortmind app inadvertently Mindwipes countless citizens in its quest to acquire endless, unfathomable data. Oliver and Sam, two high school art students whose fathers head the reviled, fascist Citizens Against Telepathy, struggle to define themselves in the face of urban terrorism and the malfunctioning, reality-altering Sortmind. Oliver finds himself under siege by two warring alien species--one trying to save humanity from extinction, the other here to merely record the event.
Excerpt
Peter Trantor adjusted his tie in the reflection of his office window. Suzanne Ramsae also occupied the reflection, bent over her laptop in her black business suit in the corner armchair, honey-colored hair falling over her shoulders. Peter checked his watch. “Relax. I’m sure she’ll be here soon,” Suzanne called over.
Downtown Canterra lay awash in afternoon sunshine far below. “She was supposed to be here at three-thirty,” Peter fumed. “Do you think InterBank’s going to bail?”
“No, she really sounded interested when I confirmed this morning. I’m sure she just ran into some sort of delay.”
Peter returned to his desk chair. “Maybe’s they’re freaked by the damn truck bomb. Maybe this Winstead woman had a little talk with her CEO. You know how many accounts we’ve lost the past week.”
She shrugged. “Six isn’t so bad. We’ll recover. Limited Access will work for any business. That level’s perfectly safe. We can convince anyone of that. Believe it or not, McMahon’s dug in his heels. He still wants LA Sortmind.”
“Really? The library? Even after last week?”
“He had his own access up to the Restructure and he knows it’s the future of libraries. I’m supposed to meet with him again this evening--only time he had available. Said he’d give me a tour of the damage. It really wasn’t so bad. I guess except for the people.”
Peter winced. Forty-eight people dead. “I really can’t believe the director can push even LA through the mayor and council.”
“It’s a librarian thing, I guess. Sort of anti-censorship and all. But I think we can convince everyone LA’s the way to go. McMahon’s okay with $124,000. He says they’ve got the budget for it this year.”
“Not bad.” Peter looked at his watch. Of course First Canterra InterBank was a far more lucrative proposition. Twenty million for Limited Access to all forty-four branches, plus Full Access for top officers generating additional real-time access fees. If Ms. Anna Winstead actually decided to show today.
The office door banged open. A young man lurched inside, no suit coat, tie askew, long hair in disarray, deep-set gray eyes glittering.
“Excuse me, sir!” Janice, the tenth floor receptionist, called from behind him. “You can’t go in there. They’re having a meeting.”
“Hey, lady, I sure as hell can come in here! I’m the new programmer!”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Trantor,” Janice said. “He just shot straight past me.”
“It’s all right, Janice,” Peter said as Suzanne closed her laptop and stood. He watched the newcomer’s eyes fasten on Suzanne’s long slender legs, then up to the lacy, fully filled white blouse beneath the black coat. “When Ms. Winstead arrives, just show her in. Meanwhile I’ll say hello to our new programmer.”
Janice grimaced and closed the door behind her.
“You must be Mr. Starck, then,” Peter said offering his hand. “I’m afraid we have only a couple minutes, but--” He cut off, dumbfounded, as Starck just looked at his hand. Peter finally dropped his own. Well, some programmers had this sort of attitude, after all.
Starck was still staring at Suzanne. “Wow, you sure have some great babes here! Saw a couple on the way in. ’Course you can tell that Janice bitch is way uptight, though. Must be pushing sixty!”
Peter heard Suzanne gasp. He cleared his throat and sought Starck’s fluttering eyes. “So … uh, Mr. Starck, how was your HR orientation?”
Starck gazed back blandly. His faint mustache twitched. “Huh?”
“Your--first day’s orientation--” Peter stammered. Who’d hired this guy? But of course it had to be Roseparker.
“Hell, didn’t go to no orientation, dude. Just got here. Know I’m a little late, but thought I’d better report to the goddamn head of this joint first.”
Peter could feel Suzanne flowing into Sortmind beside him. Starck had been due in Human Resources this morning. But he’d just awakened two hours ago, thrown on that filthy white shirt, stained blue tie, and grease-smeared jeans, spent half an hour gawking at the damage to the first floor of the library a few blocks east, then entered the Trantor Building and pressed the elevator for ten. Peter frowned. Usually he could easily zero in on personality type. But he couldn’t get a fix on this Starck character.
“Well, Mr. Starck, HR will be open for another hour, so I suggest you get down to the fifth floor and at least get started on the onboarding process.”
“Hell, with that, dude! I got news! Boy, do I got news!”
Peter began to wonder if the entire HR scenario shouldn’t begin with an exit interview. He was dismayed that he, who made split-second decisions involving hundreds of thousands of dollars at a pop, was staring in numb shock at this entity who’d just crashed the tenth floor.
“Well … and what is this news?” Peter said, trying to muster some measure of authority. Sortmind could pull the answer out of Starck’s mind, but Peter was so repelled by this rude youngster that he was reluctant to synchronize with him.
“Later, dude! Introduce me to this sexy dish here first!”
Suzanne stepped up. “Suzanne Ramsae, Vice President for Sales, Mr. Starck. And I’d certainly appreciate it if you’d watch your language with me.”
Peter was impressed. Suzanne certainly had more on the ball than Peter, yet Sortmind told him she was also too disgusted to synchronize with Starck. This was unheard of at Trantor. Everyone synchronized with everyone else. Well, except whenever Peter was pissed off at Roseparker. Such as right now. He shut down the message already forming to his Vice President for Software Development, which would have consisted of Where the hell did you dig this idiot up? Roseparker would undoubtedly note the cutoff and run upstairs to protest, as he always did. Don Roseparker definitely needed something like a software upgrade himself--perhaps into something approaching rationality. Now it looked as if Peter would have to fire Rosie’s new hire on the spot.
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