The door flies open on a huge, white room. The interior is one huge mass of cybernetic cabling, hard drives, wireless routers, and mass-signal technology, rigged together like the nightmarish intestines of some cyborg giant. Techies are all over the mound, tinkering, installing, welding. A man in a white suit with a balding frock of hair and a holotag naming him “Joe” overlooks the process, and when I barge in, he spins around and goes redfaced.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing in here! This is off-limits to—”
“Hey, Joe. My name is Jack Fenix and I’m here to stop this sorry-ass operation.”
For a second he’s at a loss for words—but just a second. Then he laughs—laughs ‘til he’s redfaced.
“Well—ahaha—well now, isn’t that something. Unfortunately for you…” His features twist suddenly into a cruel mask, “…you can’t stop us. In exactly five seconds, 90 percent of humanity will be Awakened into paradise forever. What can you do in five seconds, Mister Jack Fenix, to stop the best laid plans three decades and countless trillions of dollars?”
“How’s this.”
I couldn't take it anymore. I called it off.
