The Astral Hacker (Cryptopunk Revolution Book 1) by Brian Terenna (best ebook reader .txt) 📗

just Blaze and me. It’s not her real name, but it’s how I know her. I’ve always been able to count on her, and I’ve always admired her kindness and companionship.

Blaze looks me up and down and smirks. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, is any of this you?” she asks, indicating my avatar. “It fits, but I have a hard time believing anyone could be this smart and this shapely.”

I feel my face flush. She’s right. I’m nothing like my avatar.

Her full-lipped smile fades into something more serious. “So…did you decide if you were going to help me?” she asks, sounding hopeful.

I look away. I hate the world where I don’t help her, but I can’t stop picturing the horror of my last hack. I shiver. “I’m…I need more time.”

“There are only a couple of days left.”

“I looked at the specs in the file you sent. I won’t need more than a half-hour.”

Blaze squints at me. “Yite.”

I know that’s fast, but surely not for her. “Forty-five minutes?” I ask, not wanting to offend her.

“I know you’re good, so I won’t doubt you, but this is really important.”

I bite my lip and remember how she befriended me and supported me when I joined FreedomFire. I want to say, I’ll do it, but… “I’ll let you know on the last day.”

She grimaces. “I’ll talk to you then. See you in-game later?”

“Of course,” I say and log out. I sigh, but rather than try to figure this out, I decide to program my blockchain.

I slip on my q-link, never feeling whole without it, and begin to code.

After a while, I grin as the framework becomes more developed. I decide to take a break and drop down on the bed next to Sunny. His mechanical and electrical parts bounce around.

“You know that makes it difficult,” he says.

“Sorry. What are you building?”

Sunny looks down at his new contraption. “My robot is now a sonic nauseator.”

“A what?”

“It’s something I can activate to make humans sick and dizzy if Barbra attacks us again.”

“Wow. That sounds useful.”

He nods and puts the other parts into his bag.

I grab my steel water bottle and jump off the bed. My door has a plywood patch in the middle now and a new door latch that I unlock.

Barbra stands in the kitchen, wearing a summer dress with blue butterflies spiraling up its surface. The bags under her eyes are gone, her hair is neatly combed, and her makeup is perfect. “Morning, Sweetheart.” She opens her arms to hug me, then pulls back as if afraid of startling me.

“It’s okay.”

She breaks into a relieved smile and gives me a squeeze. “Breakfast is ready, and I’m looking forward to playing Strife later.”

The US revolution game is her favorite. I can never bring myself to beat her. “Me too.”

I fill my water bottle and gulp down the cool liquid.

The news plays in the background.

“On a happier note, Esmond Benton-Fields, multibillionaire and philanthropist, has donated a hundred million digital dollars to early education initiatives. For those unfamiliar with him, he is the grandson of the ex-CEO of Limitless Corporation, the huge conglomerate that was split into six companies during the monopoly purge of 2042.”

Barbra shakes her head as she sips her orange juice. “He’ll never make up for what his family did. That’s blood money.”

“What did they do?”

She shakes her head with a sigh. “They melded with the government and banks to form one big authoritarian regime. That shadow government was responsible for millions of deaths.”

Diablo.

“The unemployment rate for people without the Evo, commonly known as norms, is at a ten year high,” says the newscaster. “We’ll get to that after these advertisements…”

“Nutrihealth Incorporated, bringing you superior modified foods to improve your life. Why eat boring regular potatoes when you could have the hero potato. Better taste, better nutrition…”

I roll my eyes and dip my organic waffle in natural maple syrup. The sweet, warm treat touches my tongue, making the day a little nicer.

After we’re done with breakfast, I turn toward my room to code some more.

Barbra stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “Take an apple in case you get hungry before lunch.”

The gift warms me. “Thanks.”

I sit and code, melting into the comfortable, familiar state. After a couple of hours, the cryptocurrency native to my foster care blockchain takes shape. It won’t be long now. I stand and stretch my back that’s sore from sitting.

“Don’t worry,” says Barbra from inside her bedroom. “I’ll take care of you. You’re going to be okay.”

“Who is she talking to? The worst possibilities flash in my mind. I hold my hand up for Sunny to stay, then sneak out to the living room to investigate. The last time I eavesdropped on a foster parent, the bloated demon smacked me in the face. It took me off my feet, and I still remember the feel of my head cracking into the tile floor. Barbra is different, though.

“Hold on. I need medical supplies. I can save you, Fae. He won’t get you.”

Fae? What is she talking about? I dart behind the couch as she exits her room.

She’s in a bathrobe. Her hair is a wild mess, and her lipstick is smeared. She meanders through the kitchen, pausing here and there as if studying nonexistent things. She stumbles through the door into the storage room.

Even when she had the flu, she wasn’t this disheveled. I inch over to her room, knowing I need to be quick but unable to make myself do it. I peek inside.

There’s no one there except for the wounded soldier in one of her paintings and the pewter figurines of revolutionary heroes on her dresser.

I move toward her tall bed, my stomach burning with anxiety. There’s no