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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1341440
continuation of chapter 1
I started walking along the path towards the house. I kept thinking about the message on the back of the photo. “To my Beautiful, forever and ever.”
He never called me beautiful before…and why was it capitalized? It kept running through my head over and over again.
By the time I reached the house, it was about 9:00. I went up to the door and knocked. I heard a feint “Come in.” and entered.

I looked over at his mother, who was at the time in front of the screen, watching the news. Her eyes glazed over towards me as I came in through the door. Her home was so much more welcoming than mine. She had polished floors, as well as what appeared to be new drapes for the windows. I made my way over to the stairs and went up to his room. I wasn't sure, but I had an idea. I sat down in his desk and in an instant; the screen powered up again and led me to the window I left open earlier. It was still asking for a password.
I took a deep breath and typed in "Beautiful". It sat for a minute thinking. There was a long hum, as if it was straining to work, and a few clicks from inside the main drive, but when it was finished, it sent me to another screen. The heading at the top in big bold letters read; WELCOME! Please type your name to access your files.
Under the header there was a smaller text box where I typed his name. Almost instantly the screen filed with four windows. The first one that popped up looked like a blueprint. The next one looked like a key, the third was a 3-D model, and the fourth was an impressively long tower just words. I tried to read a bit of it, but I couldn't understand.

I couldn't believe my eyes. This was so well done! Every detail, every connection...it was all so perfect! I wasn't a science major, so I couldn't understand any of the lingo he used in his descriptions. I had a feeling that this was a major thing, so I looked around his desk for something to save this on. I opened one of the drawers of his desk and found a 10 GB storage device. I saved the files on the device, and put the device in my front pocket. I felt nervous. I couldn't understand what any of this meant. I needed help.

I stood up from the desk, and went over to Mark's king size bed. From the bed, I could still see the screen and the blueprints on it. As I look at them, I was reminded of a friend I used to talk to...and date for a while before I met mark. His name was George and he was a major computer whiz. Now that I think of it, he owes me a favor or two as well. Maybe he will help me...

After a few seconds, the screen turned off automatically, and the room got dark. I could feel his bed beneath me through my hands. It was soft, like one of the feather pillows. My head turned to the side, and I could smell him through the blankets, and sheets. The blankets were all made of an Egyptian cotton colored a satin red. I couldn't contain myself. It was too inviting. After a day such as this, I deserve to treat myself to this kind of rest.
I stood in front of the bed, and took off my top and jeans as quickly as I could. I left my underwear on just in case. As soon as I was shelled of my cloths, I slowly covered myself with the soft silky smoothness of the sheets, savoring every second of the feeling, and quickly went to sleep.

I awoke the next morning to find a note on the bed. It was from Mark's mother. It read,
"Dear Lisa,
I received a call from work soon after you fell asleep. I shall be at work for most of the day. Please help yourself to anything in the house. If you are to leave, please set the alarm on your way out. I'm sure mark told you the combination. Any way, I should be home before too late. Please enjoy your self.
Tami."
I gave a small sigh and went down stairs into the kitchen to make some breakfast, tossing the note into the trash on the way. They had a really beautiful kitchen. The cabinets and shelves were all made of mahogany; which in this day is the rarest type of wood. I opened the fridge to find it fully stocked with everything. The first thing I found was a container of sliced melon. I took that out and started to eat.
Meanwhile, while I was eating, I couldn't help but think about that program I found last night. As I thought about that, I thought of George. "I should give him a call...see if he knows anything about this."
I downed the last slice of melon and took out my phone. His phone rang only once before someone picked up the receiver. Their voice was angry and tired. "Hello?" they asked.
"Hi this is Lisa, I'm looking for George..."I said nervously.
George has moved around so much and it was all because of his hacking skills. Before I lift him, I made him promise not to get into any more trouble. But it’s been so long now, he could have forgotten.
There was a pause and I could hear some shouting in the distance. Soon there was another voice on the line. I could tell in an instant it was him. "Hello?"
"Hey Georgy!" I said with a smile.
"Georgy? Well that could only mean one person...Lisa how’s the boy treating you these days. It’s been so long girl, how come you never called me sooner?" His voice sounded excited to hear mine over the phone.
"I'm alright, but you see, there’s kind of a problem..."
"You’re telling me there’s a problem!" he sounded angry. “Have you seen the news? Your boy is plastered on every web page you come across. The news is saying that this is the biggest draft since the Vietnam War!" He paused to take a breath. "Now...If you are calling me to see if I can bring your boy home, there is nothing I can do. I have been working my tail off to bring home half of the people they just acquired. I have had no luck for three days. Do you know how hard it is to get past a ghost lock? Any way, you can tell I'm a little stressed out about this whole thing. So what can I do for you?"
I took a moment to digest everything he just told me. "All over the Net?!" I thought. "I didn't know that this was such a wide spread thing!"
I refocused on the conversation at hand. "I ah I found something on Mark's computer last night, I was wondering if you could tell me what it was?"
There was a short pause. It was the pause someone takes when they get confused. "Um...Sure, I'll see what I can do. It's still early in the day, so why don't you bring it over?" He sounded confused and interested at the same time.
I smiled and agreed. I hung up soon after and went over to the fridge to see if they had any more melon.
I left the house a little while later and thought about what George told me on the phone as I walked to the bus stop. It seemed so unreal how fast this was spreading. It was only a couple days ago when it started, and as I thought about it I became increasingly nervous for him.
The bus came in a rush of air as it slowed to pick up passengers. I boarded the bus and took a seat next to one of the windows. I stared out the window mindlessly, watching everything just pass me by as I traveled to my next destination. It was silent on the bus. The other passengers, all four of them, just sat there, blissfully ignorant of the world that imprisoned them. One of them was deeply engrossed in the music he was listening to, and the other three were asleep. I almost felt jealous of them. They each had a world to escape to when things could go awry. I had Mark; well at least I had him before…
In the back I heard a low, deep bellowing that quickly and swiftly approached me. I looked out the window, and saw a fleet of Flyrunners soar above me. I watched them fade into the distance as the bus came to a stop. I paid the computer, and approached the complex where George lived. I entered the main lobby, and looked at the directory for his name, last name first. “Hawkings…”After about five minutes of going through names, I located his room. It was on the fifth floor, and the fifth room. I smiled, and thanked god for inventing elevators.
After another five minutes, I was on the fifth floor. The walls were faded and pealing. About half the lights were out, and the carpet that lined the halls was in serious need for a clean. I walked down the hall and noticed several things. One being there was no numbers on ANY of the doors, and another being that the locks on the doors were mostly broken, or not even there. I sighed and counted in five doors from the elevator and went there. I looked at the door and looked through the eyehole. Unfortunately though, I couldn’t see anything. I gave a knock and in almost an instant I heard some indistinct grumbling from the other side. I could hear the sound of metal scraping against metal as the door unlocked, which I found odd because this door had no lock on the outside. The door opened only a sliver; just enough for the person on the other side to quickly close it again, and grumble even louder on the other side. I stood their in a stupor as sounds of metal crashed, and water ran behind the door. After about two minutes, the door opened again and standing there was George. He looked a little out of breath, but I could tell why.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here so soon Lisa.” He sounded lethargic.
I smiled to him with such a phony smile. “I just wanted to see you.”
He saw right through my fib, but he shrugged and invited me in.
His home’s main room was huge, similar to what you might expect of an artist or something. The main wall was a very large window. The other walls were lined with monitors, each of them showing a different line of data. There were stacks of old magazines, insides of computers, and other junk littered across the floor. I scanned the room for a place to sit and found a small clean area on the couch. I sat there, careful not to topple the tower of junk next to me. He went into his kitchen for just a second and brought out two drinks. One was in a tall glass, and the other was a soda. He took a seat at one of the many desks around the room, and started the computer. His house only had, and only needed four rooms. The massive main room, the kitchen, the bath, and his private study. I'm guessing that the work he is doing against this war is taking place in there. Once the computer loaded he asked for the files. I gave him the drive, and he gave me the soda.
Once the drive was in his possession, he was like a machine. Nothing I said or did would go noticed. He was in a trance. His fingers moved like they were in flames, and his eyes scanned the screen for any flaw. He didn’t breath, he didn’t blink. He was completely under its control. I just sat there quietly, waiting.
I had finished my soda by the time he finished. He sat back, took a breath, rubbed his eyes, and then looked at me. His eyes were as serious as his tone and when he spoke his words never stuttered or slipped. “You have no idea what you have stumbled upon, do you?”
I shook my head.
“What you have found, what you brought to me…is probably the most important information, ever.” Each of his words was as carefully chosen as the next. “What this is can change the tide of this war as we know it. It could even end it all together!”
I was clinging to his voice, like the dramatic climax of a story. “So…what is it?”
He smiled at me, but not in the usual way that someone smiles. He smiled in a way that scared me, and at the same time gave me confidence. “Li; what your boy has done, what your boy has drawn, documented, and even given a key to understand is a machine that produces water! Now, I know your thinking “ooh what’s the big deal.” Am I right? Well this isn’t your gallon or two per day. What this can do, this can create an unimaginable amount of water. Why, this could even give us back our oceans that we lost so long ago.” He paused, and looked at the screen for a minute. “The only problem though, is that most of these components don’t exist. I mean a hydromatrix crystal? I don’t even know what that is…I guess…I don’t know.”
I could tell he was frustrated. He looked at the image for another minute or two before closing it and giving me back the drive it was on. I looked at him and sighed. “What am I going to do?” I muttered. I looked at George, but I didn’t look at him. My mind was wondering about. I felt helpless. I wanted him back, but there was nothing I could do.
George just sat there and looked at me. He looked sorry for a second, but it didn’t last. He stood up and went over to the kitchen. He came back a minute later with another drink and gave it to me. I took it and greedily slurped it down.
I don’t know weather it was the look on my face or if it was something I said, but suddenly a small devious smile ran across his face and I could tell he had thought of something. He turned quickly and went into his private study, only to emerge an instant later with something dangling from his fingers. I couldn’t tell what it was from where I was sitting, but as he came closer I could tell it was a pair of keys. I knew at once what they went to. They went to a Flyrunner.
Long before any of this ever happened, I was in elementary school. The government’s scientists had discovered the fastest and quietest design for a stealth plane. Unfortunately for them that’s all it was; fast and stealthy. So what they had to do was design a program that could manipulate the plane, as well as detect oncoming fire, such as projectiles or explosions. George’s father was a brilliant man when it came to computers and technology. So when he received the project, it was all he worked on for over a year and a half. Alas because of his obsession in his work, his wife left him for another man who eventually turned out to be a poor drunkard. Eventually he finished the project and as thanks, they allowed him to have a prototype of one of the original Flyrunners.
I looked at the keys, but was utterly paralyzed when I looked back at him. All I could utter was the word “Why?”
He just stood there and smiled at me. His eyes gave me such an uneasy feeling; I couldn't look at them straight on. My hand trembled as it rose to greet the keys. I took the keys, but I still refused to look at him directly. My body felt heavy, almost as if this simple gesture absorbed all the energy from me. A single tear ran down my face and I couldn't contain myself any longer. I looked into his calm, collected smile and embraced him. His arms wrapped around my waist and he set my head on his chest.
I felt safe in his arms for an instant. And in that instant, the walls I had put up to protect myself fell. And all of my anger, my fear, and my sorrow were unleashed upon him. My eyes filled with tears, but he held me. I screamed profanities at him and all were muffled by his chest, and yet he still held me. It was a good length of time before I had calmed down enough to speak and not choke on my tears. He cleared off the couch and laid me down. He brought me a drink and sat next to me, then in a calm voice said "The reason that I'm doing this isn't just for you. It’s for the world too." He rolled over to a computer and brought up a map. "In the middle of downtown, there is a guy. He will take you to my fathers..." He paused. I could tell this was hard on him. "There you will find a prototype Flyrunner." He looked at me. "I want you to call me as soon as you get there. Do you understand?"
I nodded. He smiled, and helped me stand. He reached into his pocket and gave me the map and some cab fare. I looked at him, and he just stood there. His eyes shifted frequently; from me to the floor and back again. I couldn't move. I felt nervous and yet at the same time I trusted him. I turned a little and opened the door. He still just stood there and watched me leave.
I felt anxious as soon as my feet touched the cold concrete that was the outside. I looked at the map, and hailed a cab. The doors opened on there own and I clambered into the back. The driver took a quick glance at me and asked me where I was going. I didn’t feel like talking to him so I just gave him the map. He gave a quick nod and we were on our way.
The world outside the window flashed by me in a mindless haze. The colors blurred and other objects seemed insignificant. I tried to pick out individual objects from the blur, but it was hopeless. It all reminded me of one of those paintings that you would have seen in art galleries. The cab soon came to a stop. It was outside one of the last known graveyards in this country. There was a vast sea of small crosses and urns, to represent the passing of somebody’s loved one. I took a step outside and the gravel under my feet ground beneath me. There was a small funeral going on and other people were just walking around, paying their respects. This was a holy place, so I needed to be reverent. I walked just out of hearing distance and called George.
“Hello?” he answered on the first ring.
“Hi, it’s me. I just got here. So who am I looking for?”
“He is the grave keeper. Your best chance to find him will probably be in the small shack next to where you came in. If you show him the keys, he’ll know what to do.”
“I understand. I’ll call you soon ok?”
“Alright, see you.”
I hung up and wondered a bit before I made my way over to the grave keepers hut. I saw so many graves. Most were unnamed; others were elaborate pieces of art depicting the Virgin Mary, or some angel. As I made my way over to the house, I felt strange. I had no idea what to expect and I was nervous that the grave keeper would be some old man with a deformed face. I looked in through the dusty window on the door, and inside I saw almost nothing. The only light was from the little window, everything else was too dark. I knocked on the door and went inside. The shack was small and dank. There was a small cot in one corner of the room, and a desk with a lamp and a small notebook in another. The only other window was covered up by planks of wood. It was apparent enough that he wasn’t there, so I went back outside and sat next to the door.
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