Chapter 26

“This old piece o’ crap is hooked up to a satellite dish hidden in that mound of rock over there, where the snakes like to congregate. The dish is pointed at the equator, meaning we are tapping into geosynchronous sats that are linked around the entire girth of the planet, just like the telescope in Chile. This system can pull down information, but you can’t send out information, not files, email, or VOIP.”

“Why would someone rig up a computer this way?” Eitan asked.

“No one can ping the computer and get a bounce back response,” Sten said. “No actor can find this computer. They may be able to determine there is a feed and yet, they will never determine latitude or the longitude of the dish.”

“Sten, it’s 6:00 in the morning our time and in one hour or less, the Supreme Court is supposed to release its decision on the National Nano Registry. How are we supposed to follow this?”

“CNN Spanish edition is easy,” Sten said, tapping a few keys.

“I don’t speak Spanish,” Eitan said, looking over Sten’s shoulder at the old monitor. Sten gave him a sad look, which ticked off Eitan. “I am not the stupid child in the family. I go to Yale and I don’t need to defend myself.”

“No, you don’t,” Sten said with soothing condescension. “Let’s see if we can pick up Sky News or maybe BBC World. Sky News uses smaller words and speaks slower for people like you.”

“I am going to use your porn stash to light the grill, Sten. You want pain; I will give you pain.”

“Drop down the intensity, Romeo,” Sten said. “The Court decision has already been made. We’re just waiting to hear the news and there is nothing more we can do about it. Akemi must be watching too, just like us.”

“They were moving her to Quantico after we last spoke,” Eitan said. “She is hanging out with the Marines.”

“If she is at Quantico, she’s hanging out with the CIA,” Sten said. “She’s going to be doing real time analysis and time-compressed solution-sets if I know her. Quantico has access to big computing power. Ah.”

“This is the BBC World News Hour, with your host, Sterling Marshall, broadcasting live from our studios in London. The United States Supreme Court is about to release its decision on ACLU v The United States. We’ll be following this story plus our update on the annual crop survey in western Africa and what it means to the futures market. Also, can cricket be rescued from its fanatical fans in North Macedonia? We will be back, after this news update.”

Eitan paced the room like a man possessed. He looked out the window and then he looked out the door, which was the exact same scene. He walked back to the computer as the announcer rattled off the numbers of various stock markets around the world. The house was still cool even though Eitan was sweating.

“Welcome back,” the host said. Eitan put both hands on his brother’s shoulder as he leaned over to watch the image on the faded screen. “The United States Supreme Court has invalidated the National Registry of Nano-endowed individuals in a 7-2 decision. The majority opinion rejects the law as violating the fourth, fifth, ninth, and fourteenth amendments of the U.S. Constitution. The Supreme Court’s decision and its majority reasoning effectively kills the legislation with little chance of it returning in a modified form. We go to our correspondent...”

The satellite lock failed, which Sten assured his brother was nothing new. “Maybe a butterfly flapped its wings too close to the dish.”

“We’re free,” Eitan said, hardly believing the news. “They can’t hunt us; they can’t segregate us. They can’t name us either.”

“By ‘they’ I think you mean the U.S. government,” Sten said, standing up and stretching. “They are not the problem; Whitcomb is.”

Eitan could not argue with that statement. Sten handed him the shotgun, motioning him to follow. Behind the house, they both surveyed the tower of rocks that housed the satellite dish at the top. Sten explained that mice and other such little critters liked to hide or make nests down inside the stacked rocks. Snakes liked to eat the little critters, but they also liked to sleep in the cool depths of the rocks away from the midday heat too. Early morning was best to climb. Did Eitan want to climb or stand by with a cocked shotgun?

Eitan elected to climb. He took his time, often lifting a small rock and banging it on the next set of rocks above. At the top, he was pleased to see that the dish was partially obscured by a half roof on the north side. Paint marks inside precise gouges in the stone on all sides demonstrated the correct alignment of the dish with dots on its lip. The sun was fully up, and the temperature was plainly rising by the time Eitan climbed down from the tower.

“What do you think is happening out there?” Eitan asked as Sten carried the bucket to the canyon’s edge. Sten said nothing as he lowered the weighted metal bucket that was tied to the rope. He had to lean out over the edge and aim the bucket for a barrel that had been set in the bottom of the canyon, underneath a metal spout that dripped water from an underground source. With a full bucket, Sten pulled up the rope slowly, doing his best not to jostle and spill the water.

“If it were me, I would be rounding up vigilante suspects,” Sten said. “I would be using the provisions of the Patriot Act that still exist to rip into every computer and every cell phone that that even hints of violence against nano’s. I would have subpoenas and warrants for every social media site. I would slash through every TOR encryption until I found the sources. Then I would charge every one of those shits with domestic terrorism. I want to go home.”

They walked back to the house and ducked inside. They each took a long draught of water, lost in their thoughts. For two days, the brothers puttered around the house. Sten would take long breaks in his VR set up, leaving Eitan to fill his own time. He tried the computer, but quickly grew tired of the slow speed. From midmorning to near sundown, the heat forced him to remain in shade.

Come Sunday morning they had hauled back a second bucket of water and were giving themselves a begger’s bath when the computer blipped. “Ever do that before?” Eitan asked

Sten shrugged and walked over the computer, dripping water the entire way. He tapped the keyboard once. He tapped again. He stood up straight, pointed to the screen and began to dance an Irish jig. He danced around the room. He chanced upon his brother and danced him around the room backwards. He laughed and stamped his feet ecstatic. “Five hours,” he said. “Someone is coming to pick me up in five hours. I want ice cream. I want ice cream and a New York cheesecake. I want a steak bloody red and too big to eat in one sitting. I want a salad with cucumbers and juicy tomatoes. I’ll settle for a beer first.”

Eitan tapped his brother on the shoulder. “I can’t be here when they come. When you get out, call Akemi first and then make sure you call me because obviously, you’ve been alone here.

Sten suddenly stopped his dancing and dropped his arms. “What’s happened? Why is it safe for me to come back?”

“Can you bring up a newspaper site?” Eitan asked. Sten explained that almost all the newspaper sites were blocked for download or just would not load in a readable format. Eitan felt boxed in again. “We will have to trust Camille. Where should I go when I jump?”

The two hashed out the possibilities. Their sister was out of reach, even though both wanted to go to her. Sten’s contacts were mostly academic and of no use to Eitan. Their parents were hunkering down in a police state and Kavita’s father was undoubtably still reeling from the probable FBI raid. The only person left “in the know” was Bea Hawthorne of the New Hampshire Hawthorne’s, whose parents harbored a distrust of the Eitan and Akemi.

Eitan and his brother gave each other a hug, a heartfelt one. No one knew what the next days and weeks would bring. Even though the outlook was supposedly positive, neither of them were feeling confident. Eitan took one last look at the sere landscape and WHAM.

“Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, Eitan,” Bea yelled, as grabbed the sheet from her bed to cover herself. “At least you could give me some warning.”

“Nice look,” Eitan said, giving her impromptu toga an up-and-down review. “I don’t know what kind of warning you could expect when you have my cell locked in your office. Um, where are we?”

“In my bedroom in New Hampshire,” Bea said. “The Court decision came down Friday and the family decided to listen for the decision here and wait out the aftermath hidden away in the mountains.”