626

© 1997 - Thomas T. Klugh - All Rights Reserved

Zeke had already had a long and difficult day, but now it was time to wire.  He was a delivery boy for CyberData Transmissions.  Usually, personally-delivered data was made to customers the old fashioned way: on foot.  This time things were going to be different.  Wiring was new to Zeke; he hadn’t yet taken part in it.  In addition, the method was supposed to be an improvement over the old way of just transmitting data.  This time, the delivery boy would be electronically sent along with the data.  It was supposed to be an issue of quality control, some said it was just control, period.  The issue of safety was still being debated by the Cyber Committee and had not yet been proven.  Still, the messenger was placed into a chamber, sort of a transporter, along with the document.  Buttons were pushed, there was a flash, then nothing.  Nothing, that is, for the sender.  But for Zeke, it was supposed to be like nothing he had ever experienced; and yet, it was like walking the document to its destination.  The passing of time, from the messenger’s point of view, was experienced as a normal occurrence, but to the rest of the world it seemed like an instant.

     “Are you ready?” asked the cybertek.  He was one of an endless number of cyberclones who were created just for the endless task of transmitting data.  He wasn’t human, yet he wasn’t inhuman, either.  He simply did his job, endlessly, tirelessly, and without interest.

“Yea,” said Zeke.  The cybertek handed him the document.  Zeke looked at the address.  It simply read, “626.”

“Where is this going?” asked Zeke, but the cybertek just pointed to the chamber.    Prior to entering the transmitting chamber, Zeke had to get into a paper suit.  It looked like a space suit that astronauts wore, but it was made out of synthetic paper.  Zeke stood there for a moment, feeling the sleeve of his suit.  “It’s to retard re-entry burnout,” said the cybertek.

“Retard…?” thought Zeke.  He stepped into the chamber.  The tek positioned Zeke into the seat, strapped him in, closed the chamber door, locked it and stepped back.  He turned away from Zeke mechanically.  After a few moments the cybertek turned a few knobs and then pushed a button.  There was a bright flash.  The cybertek then turned to the chamber, walked over to the door, opened it and said to Zeke, “Data transmission complete.”  The cybertek unstrapped Zeke and told him to step out of the chamber.

“What went wrong?” asked Zeke.

“I’m sorry?” countered the cybertek.

“The transmission,” said Zeke questioningly.  “What happened?  Why am I still here?”

“But you’re not still here,” said the tek emphatically.  Take the document to its destination.  Zeke was perplexed. 

“I don’t understand,” he said.  “Why am I still here?  I’m supposed to be sent along with the data…”

“Of course you don’t understand,” said the tek.  “You’re not the first,” he added.  “You ARE on your way this very moment.  You must leave the area now or you’ll interrupt the electron flow.  If that happens, there could be consequences.”  The cybertek turned away and went back to his console.

Zeke just stood there for a moment, then appearing to understand his situation, he quickly turned and walked out the door of the transmitting room.  No sooner did he walk out the door when he was seized by a jolt of energy that seemed to surge
throughout his entire being.  Instantly, he was transported into an elevator-like tube of white light, and just as quickly he found himself out on the street where he had originally come in. 

“Cool,” he thought to himself.  He then turned to walk down the street.  Everything seemed the same as when he went into the building.  People were walking about, vendors were selling their wares, there was the usual hustle and bustle of the city.  He stuffed the envelope into his jacket and continued walking. 

As he walked over to the Avenue where he usually hired a cab, he noticed an odd color in the air around him.  “Hmmm,” he thought.  “Must be from the transmission.”  He continued walking.  Except for the color of the air, everything was the way it should have been.  Just as he was about to hail a taxi, a figure leapt out from behind a parked delivery truck.  The figure was also wearing the same kind of paper suit that Zeke was wearing.  The figure knocked Zeke to the street and grabbed at his jacket.

“The document!” shrieked the attacker.  “Give it to me, now!”

Everything happened all at once.  Zeke wrestled with the figure, which was changing colors with every movement and moment.  There was lightning flashing all around them.  For a second, Zeke managed to get away from the figure.  The assailant stood up and positioned himself for another attack, but then Zeke noticed a cab baring down on the figure.  Zeke looked at the approaching vehicle, then looked back at the cosmic figure.  The next moment, the cab struck the figure.  Zeke was momentarily taken aback, for just as the cab hit the assailant, he disappeared in a flash of light.  The cab pulled up along side of Zeke.  The door flung open.
“Get in!” shouted the cabby.  Without hesitation Zeke dove into the back of the taxi just as the cabby took off.

“That was close,” said the driver of the cab.  Zeke looked around, too confused to say anything.

“I was sent here to help you; to make sure you reach your destination.”  Zeke was still too stunned to say anything.  “We knew there would be attempts made to steal the document,” said the driver as he sped down the Avenue.

“Steal the document?” thought Zeke.  “Why the hell would anyone want to steal the document?”  Zeke shouted to the cabby, “What the hell am I carrying, anyway?”

“It’s an important document,” said the cabby.  “Didn’t they tell you?  No, of course not; they never do.  Damn!  Just make sure it gets to 626!” was all the cabby said to Zeke.  The driver focused on his driving which seemed to be going at lightning speed.  Zeke tried again and again to question the cabby, but the driver only looked back at him in the rear view mirror and continued to drive on.  The cabby came to an intersection, stopped with a jolt, and said, “That’s it, get out!  That’s as far as I go—OUT!”  The driver reached back and grabbed the door handle, turned it, and pushed the door open.  Before Zeke realized what was going on, he found himself back out on the sidewalk.  He had hardly stepped out onto the sidewalk when the driver pulled the door closed and screeched away.  Zeke was still in the dark about his true destination.  He thought that it must be somewhere nearby, but he felt unsure and scared. 

“What’s happening?” he thought as he looked around.  Everywhere, people were moving quickly to their own private destinations.  There was commotion everywhere.  Zeke continued to walk on.
”Why couldn’t he just take me all the way?” he thought.  His eyes darted to the left and right.  He was feeling a bit anxious and was breathing deeply.  He felt cold and was shivering. 

It was after he reached the corner that he noticed he was being followed by two individuals.  He walked faster.  They walked faster.  Now Zeke was really scared.

“What is going on?” he thought.  He considered throwing the document away, but then decided against it.  He quickened his pace; so did his pursuers.  Zeke began to run.  So did they.  Jumping from the curb, Zeke was almost hit by another vehicle.  Everything was a blur.  Lights seemed to flash all around him.  His shadows were gaining on him.  What was he to do?  Zeke came to another intersection.  Across the street was a park.  Maybe he could lose them there.  It was early evening; there were many people in the park.  It was near the local university.  He hesitated a moment too long, for just then he felt a vice-like grip around his left arm.  He looked, only to feel himself being tackled by someone.  He crashed to the sidewalk.  Almost instinctively, he threw one of his attackers off him.  The other then started kicking at him, trying to knock him unconscious.  Zeke tried to protect his face, his body, but the blows were too much.  One by one the thugs pummeled him with blows from their fists.  To Zeke, his senses told him the two were attacking him with all their physical prowess, but he also felt as though there was something cosmic in it all.  Zeke tried to protect himself and while doing his best, he summoned all the strength he could muster.  To his surprise, he felt a strange source of strength coming upon him.  He pushed up against his attackers.  He fought back, slowly at first, but then fighting his way up to a standing position.  His face was all bruised and bloodied.  His jacket and paper cyber suit were both torn.  He managed to push away his attackers, and taking advantage of this he ran into the nearest doorway.  As he passed through the door, he felt as if everything around him had changed again.  He looked out the door window.  The two thugs who had pursued him were gone; not just nowhere in sight, but gone; disappeared.

Zeke turned around and looked through the lobby of the building.  It was then that he felt an electronic jolt crashing down on his cheek.  He fell back to the floor.  As he looked up he saw that it was the same two who had attacked him outside.  They seemed to materialize in the lobby.  Again, Zeke found himself in a life and death situation.  Again, he found himself fighting for his life.  Inch by inch, Zeke fought his way to the other side of the lobby.  He was reaching the end of his strength.  His attackers backed him up against a set of elevator doors.  Just as Zeke fell back, the doors opened.  Zeke fell into the elevator; the doors closed, preventing his attackers from following him.  He lay there on the floor of the elevator as it started to go up.  He didn’t know where it was going, and he didn’t care.  He was weak, and bruised and bleeding.  The elevator came to a stop at the sixth floor.  The doors opened.  There, in front of him, was a door to a room.  Above the door was a number: “626.”

“It’s a room number?” Zeke was in a state of shock, as well as disbelief.  “What the hell?”  With all his strength, he dragged himself out of the elevator.  Partially stooped over, he stood before the door, looked up at the number 626, and peered through the small window on the door to the room.  He reached for the door handle and opened the door.  He stepped inside.  It was some sort of laboratory.  Everyone who was inside the lab stopped working and looked up.  The one in charge, a professor, who had been speaking with and directing all the others, looked up at Zeke.
“Yes?” he asked of Zeke.  “May I help you?”

The others in the laboratory looked at Zeke with caution.  Some of them moved away from Zeke, seeing his bruised and bloodied appearance.  Zeke, of course, tried to look as professional as possible, given the circumstances.  He straightened himself up, tried to compose himself and in his best manner said, “Package…  I’ve got a package for you.  It’s supposed to be delivered to ‘626’ That’s all I know.”  With that, Zeke stuck his bruised hand into his now torn jacket and pulled out the document.  He looked at it and grimaced from the pain.  He hadn’t given the document much thought as he was being attacked.  He had been too busy protecting himself.  Zeke handed the document to the professor.

“Sign here, please.”  Zeke pulled out his electronic register and pen and handed them to the professor who signed for the document. 

The professor said thank you.

Zeke said thank you.

“That was fast,” said the professor.  “I requested this info just a few minutes ago.”

     Zeke tried to smile, and then looked around in complete disbelief concerning his recent experience.  He took a breath, turned away, and slowly limped out of the room.  As soon as Zeke walked out the door of the laboratory, there was a flash of light and he was gone.