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with Armstrong Technologies, Inc., subject to congressional approval, to
have an ACIP (truth machine) in every courtroom in America by
year-end. The lie-detector de-vice, which analyzes blood flow and
electrical activity in the brain, was officially
tested and certified as foolproof last August, and immediately
approved for judicial system usage. Jean-Luc
Christon is executed by lethal injection in Paris, France. The Serial Hacker
admitted to murdering 7,412 hospital patients throughout France,
Switzerland, and Canada by altering their medical records. In an
unprecedented display of international cooperation, emergency response teams
from the U.S., Japan, U.K., France, Russia, Italy, and Kazakhstan converge
on Chernobyl, Ukraine, after re-cent movement in the core of the
ill-fated Reactor IV
indicated high probability of massive leakage in the sar-cophagus. Eleven days
of around-the-clock assembly are anticipated to install a recently developed
Sino-Japanese shielding tile on all sides, including above and below the
collapsing core. As a precaution, further plans are approved to construct
shielding-tile encase-ments around the entire complex, including the three
re-actors shut down in early 2012.
The wheel bucked in his hands as if one of the tires were out of alignment.
Damn! He d thought this portion of the run would be easier, less challenging.
Jesus.
Gary Franklin Smith glanced toward the two hands that held fast to the archaic
steering wheel. In these he was less disap-pointed; only one or two
distinctive brown spots tattled his age. Not bad, for seventy-seven years.
Still, he wished he possessed his driving skills of even five years ago. Might
make all the difference now. Sure, it was pos-sible to reach his goal
regardless of performance, but less likely. There were times, of course, when
luck would take you home, and others when the best wheel man just couldn t buy
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a break. And for Gary, the money was becoming more and more, well, real.
Whoa!
Gary whipped the wheel of the old contraption in a frantic attempt to avoid
collision with the faded
08 Infiniti. Inside the heap s now-sagging doors hunkered four, no, five of
the bastards.
Git dat soam-bitch!
he saw the other driver pantomime. Gary s mind painted in the sounds of the
sociopath s words, though he could not hear them.
The vehicles passed within inches of each other, their tor-mented power plants
both screaming as if in farewell salute to the age of the internal
combustion engine. Gary s eyes flashed to the heads-up:
123,500. Too bad. He had to play for the stale-mate now.
His foot found the brake pedal. The 97 Bronco might have been all manual, but
its weight would carry the day. He rammed the shift lever to reverse,
simultaneously applying the accelerator. The steel horse reared in a pall of
tire smoke, Gary slapped the shift lever into D, and now she was floored. The
In-finiti of rednecks had executed a similar maneuver. A shotgun protruded
from the rear passenger window, and behind the weapon a face leered in
depraved anticipation.
Heads-up read: 128, 250. Awright! Going in the right direc-tion, anyway.
The shotgun blast took the Bronco full in the radiator. Not enough time for
that to matter.
Gary aimed and ducked his head. Though its response was ponderous, the ancient
Ford cargo wagon was now doing 85. The second blast imploded the windshield,
and a gummy safety-glass rain showered down on him.
Perfect. They couldn t possibly know what was coming.
Had he cared to watch, Gary would have seen a dawning realization appear on
their vacuous faces.
But 65 plus 85 equaled an unforgiving closing speed, and understanding
of-fered no salvation.
Smash!
The Infiniti spattered against the old leviathan s wounded grill.
What time s it? Gary mumbled.
No answer. Where the hell was he??
Soft leather, faint yellowish-green lights. The VR module! And he d forgotten
to wear his audio PC
again. Hell, second time he d fallen asleep in here that week. Anxiously, his
eyes focused on the at-home virtual reality pod s running total:
$1,455,456,766, in glowing red figures.
Oh, great!
He had been in there for twenty-six hours, including the eleven hours of
accidental sleep, and had won
$1,204. That and a nice smile might make an appropriate tip for a maitre d ,
but it sure wouldn t do much for him.
Four weeks ago Gary had received the results of his latest ge-netic
scan. While his family predisposition to heart disease and pancreatic
cancer loomed, both diseases were now curable at only slight inconvenience
even to those who d refused immu-nization. At age seventy-seven Gary retained
the expectation of at least twenty-one more years of relative good
health before biostasis could be considered reasonable, much less
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