Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. 817Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjJg9oDUJRv
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. 817Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQOUltUmDKB
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance. Kahlil Gibran
817Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOzL8MyC6OG
Chapter 1. Day 199, Year 3015
It was a bright and stormy night. Egon Bisher stared at the dark sky. Egon's eyes studied the series of flashes, exploding in a kaleidoscope of colors. No one knew he was on the deck. Besides, his exams were over and his parents were away. Just as well, thought Egon, when they see the results . . .
Egon held up the Astron on his wrist. "Did you pip me, Opie?"
"What do you make of it?"
"How long have you been watching?"
"Since it started. Say, why don't you zap over?"
"Will do." Egon touched his power belt and selected Opie's loc from the micro-screen on the Astron on his wrist. As if a hand gently lifted him, Egon floated upwards over the railing, into the stream.
Egon looked down into the bowels of the city below, the buildings and the flashing signs and spectrum of colors, the streams and counterstreams, the cops . . . He recalled his first time in the stream and the sense of fear and nausea as he went higher and higher and the ground below became smaller and distant. He wanted to scream but his mouth was dry and he felt his stomach in his throat. If a person were meant to fly, wouldn't they have wings?
But he had wings. His wings were nano-physics and quantum energy that enabled the streams and almost unlimited travel at hyper-speeds. Egon reflected again on his first streaming. He could see his father smiling at him and his wink.
"Use your safety belt, if need be," said his father as put his hand on his shoulder.
His safety belt! He had forgotten it when Opie pipped him. But he almost felt his father's hand again on his shoulder.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see a dark glove.
"Whozit?" said Egon.
"Afren, afren. Skybri.Ensneer." The hand disappeared.
Egon turned his head and glanced over at the disappearing figure. Odd, how Fastok wasn't ever that easy to learn, but always seemed to come through in a pinch. But what did it mean? He would ask Op when he saw him.
Fastok, the data language. Invented in 2034 during the first great data war to speed communication between data grunts and cyberbattants. Fastok enabled rapid tactical decision making in—
Egon squinted, shutting off the rambling of the Provoker in his consciousness. He pressed another button on his belt, moving into a faster stream.
Nothing happened.
"Opforbid."
Egon pulled out a wire from his sleeve and and looped it on his belt. It was a trick that Opie showed him.
When he pressed the button again, he was prompted for confirmation. His finger hesitated, then he mashed it down on the control. This time it was for real.
ns 15.158.61.48da2
