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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1212839-Evolution-Revolution
Rated: E · Other · Sci-fi · #1212839
The beginning of the end.
Lights on, the computer that ran the house recognized the voice pattern and turned on the living room lights.  Carry threw her purse down on the table, and tossed her keys on top.  She was exhausted from work, even though to tell you the truth, it hadn’t been that hard.  “TV on,” the tv came on blaring the nightly news and its sensationalism, and quickly Carry said,” tv volume mute,” the tv went silent.  Using her pointer, and middle finger on each hand, she gently rubbed her temples willing the headache to go away.  The headache had woken her up that morning and never left.  She lowered herself down onto her lay z boy and said, Chair recline, and the slow hum of the reclining engine whirred to life and the chair slowly reclined, backward, and the foot rest rose slowly upward.  “Lights dim,” the lights in the living room slowly dimmed, “David Ford, volume 2,” David Ford’s voice came on. Carry loved this old stuff, even though it was thirty years old.  She had been rummaging around in her parents attic one day and came across an old computer with it’s hard drive still intact.  She had asked her parents if she could see what was on it, they hadn’t minded, and told her it had been her dad’s grandparents computer and that she might find something interesting on there.  She had found a lot of useless programs, and junk, but came across a bunch of music files that had belonged to her grandparents, and she had loved the music she had found.  She had gotten tired of the endless loop of top 40 music that played on the web statiots, and found anything new refreshing.  To pick herself back up she reached over to the glass end-table she had found in a garage sale.  After she brought it home she had found a secret drawer in the side of it, and now used that drawer to hold her papers, her glass pipe and her pot.  The smoke floated lazily from the joint, and the head change was coming along nicely.  Carry took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting the day’s stress, flow right out of her.  Carry lay with her eyes closed, lost in “State of The Union,” wishing there was something she could do to change her world. 

         “Chair normal,” the headache retreating, Carry got up, and started to walk toward her bedroom, Drive By Truckers on, the music started raucous and loud, and she started to sing along.  Her voice was raw from doing her voice work all day, Glass of water, Carry went to the kitchen to get her glass of water.  She had been selling earphones, but that hadn’t been enough money, so she worked voice dubbing for company’s  web sites, which were used in the earphones that she sold.  Earphones were the evolution of cellphones, when you wanted to call somebody you just said their name, when you wanted to connect to the internet and look up information the earphones  would give  you the information on the page into your ear, and that’s what she was, the voice in people’s ear.  Top-end phones would provide the picture of who you were talking with, or what you were interacting with  Lately, she had been voice dubbing for the web stations, the new form of radio, and was going to go crazy  if she had to hear another cookie-cutter song.  The stack of envelopes on her kitchen table drove her, not to mention that she did not want to go to debtor’s jail.  The bills were stacking up though and the credibanks were raising their percentage rates, again.  Oil and gas prices were $5.50 a gallon and climbing, again. She sat down at her kitchen table and started to cry softly.  Her house sat in a ragged government housing addition, looking as depressed as the houses around it.  The six months of summer had left what little grass they had in the neighborhood yellow and dead, a lot like the neighborhood itself. 
         The knock was soft and respectful, and had to be repeated twice for it to pull Carry out of her fog.  Carry quickly dried her eyes and went to see who it was.  Halfway to the door Carry called out to the empty house “Porch light on.” She opened the door and the porch light filled the doorway, while music softly drifted out.

“Drive By Truckers,” stranger number one said, “I like this band.”  Carry hesitated momentarily, not wanting to pay attention to her gut feeling, before saying, “ Nice choice in music but who are you?” 
“We are gentlemen who would like to employ your services.”  Stranger number two replied. 
“Really narrowed it down didn’t you,” nervously Carry shifted her eyes to look around for anyone who would hear her if she yelled for help, but saw no one.

“Well, if you would allow us to come in...” Carry cut him off before he could finish, “You aren’t coming in until I know who the hell you are, you’re really freaking me out, and I’m about to start yelling.”  Carry’s hands gave away her nervousness.  Criminals had become more bold, and dangerous, or that’s what the nightly news had her believing. 

Stranger number one turned to stranger number two,” I told you this way wouldn’t work, we have scared the shit out of her,” stranger number one turned his attention to Carry, “Look we don’t want to freak you out, if you would let us explain then maybe you would understand, we don’t want to hurt you, or rob you, or anything criminally that way, just maybe a little criminal in another way, what do you say, just hear us out, at anytime if you are uncomfortable then we’ll leave, we just need a chance to explain.”  Carry looked so hard for honesty in the world and thought she might have found some in the strangers face.  Carry stood there for a minute trying to make up her mind, but she was still high, and still paranoid, but more than anything she wanted to sit down for a minute, so she gave a small shake of the head for a yes and turned to go sit down. 

         Stranger number one introduced himself as John, and stood there with his hands crossed in front of himself.  Stranger number two hung back in the shadow of John and did not introduce himself.  “ We are a part of an underground society that is trying to get our message out and we believe you are the key to doing so.”  This certainly stunned her, “Wait you have to give me a second to think about this I’m half-stoned.” 

“Take your time, “ John said, “we have time on our hands,” John slowly turned his palms upward, then turning them back to rest in their initial position.  “ Why should I help you, I have problems enough of my own, why should I heap more on myself?”  Carry jumped to her feet and started pacing back and forth.  “Why?” John smiled and said, “ Why a chance to change the world,” Carry stopped and turned her head slowly staring at him, “Are you the devil that Reverend Brian preaches about on t.v.”  John chuckled softly, “No ma’am I’m not that devil, but a devil of another kind for Reverend Brian, but not for folks like me and you.”  She looked quizzically over at John and mulled over that riddle for a second.  “So if I do what you want me to do, I’m somehow helping you to change the world., what is it you want me to do?” 

“We have been looking over all the possible ways of infiltrating the web stations, and you’re the one we chose, “ stranger number two came out of the shadows and stood beside John, both hands behind his back.  “When you do your dubbing the computer program that you use has to have your USB ID doesn’t it?”  She shook her head in silent acknowledgment, “All we need from you is to use the USB ID we give you, we will do the rest.”  She looked at both of the men, “What’s on the USB ID?”  For the first time Stranger Number Two smiled, “ See I told you she was smart.”  Carry placed a hand on her hip, “ Does that mean your going to tell me your name now?”
Stranger number two cocked his head and said “No.” 

         John spoke quickly, “Nothing that will ever be found.”  Carry walked back into the kitchen, then back into the living room, “What are you guys about, if I’m doing this I would like to know what the hell I’m doing it for.” 

         “We’re about the recovery of a lost world, the world before this one which was eaten by greed.”  The intensity shone in Stranger number two’s eyes, and the hatred as well.

         “We grew tired of fighting to break even, we decided to figure out a solution, and we have, we must reach the people with our message, and,” his voice paused for effect, “start a revolution.”

         “A revolution, are you fucking kidding me, just the three of us?”  She started to pace again shaking her head back and forth.

         “Well, ma’am there might be more than three of us, we just need to know if you will help us, “ John was a man with courtesy.

         “What the hell, life can’t get any worse can it,” she knocked on her wooden kitchen table just for insurance.          
© Copyright 2007 Bob McGillicutty (kalyptoklepto at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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