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

A spark of flame draws my eyes to the corner of the room. Alexander holds an open can of soup with an oven mitt and heats it with a blowtorch.

What the hell?

When he’s done heating the soup, he stirs it and pours it into his mouth.

Nav shakes her head. “I told you, he’s a character.”

“So,” I say and put my hand on hers. “Thanks for blocking those bullets back there. That was close.”

“Anytime, StarFeather. You know that.”

She gazes at our hands and smiles. “Your hacking saved us too, though. I can’t do this without you.”

A glint of light catches my eye. Alexander holds some kind of golden circle. He looks at it with a fond smile, then takes out a cloth rubs it.

Look at those eyes. So green.

“After we finish eating,” says Nav. “Let’s go to the room and settle in.”

“Sounds nice.”

We finish and rinse our dishes, the remaining food particles sliding off the nano-glass coating. I glance at Alexander one more time to see him talking through his q-link to someone. We leave for the room, Sunny following at our heels.

 I put down my messenger bag and sit on the bed. Sunny sits nearby and summons a holographic representation of his seal, Bean. He pets him, and the interactive hologram wiggles his tail and waves.

Huh. When did he program that?

Nav narrows her eyes at the hologram. “I can’t believe we’re in a war now. What else is going to happen?”

I lower my head into my hands, my curls draping over my face. I’m just so overwhelmed. “Can we talk about something else? I just can’t deal with that right now.”

“I know just the thing. Cube, activate nature projection two.”

A forest of pines grows around us, and an owl hoots in the background.

“Let’s trade some programming tips,” says Nav. “I need a crash course in SAS, and I’ll teach you some of the more advanced tricks I’ve learned.”

☼☼☼

After talking for hours and eating dinner, the sky darkens, and Nav gets tired. She curls up to sleep, and after about ten minutes of her deeper steady breathing, I slide over to Sunny.

“I’m wondering if we should try to slip out of the country,” I say. “Then we can avoid this war and my arrest.”

“Without Naveha?” asks Sunny.

Memories of her taunt me. I hear her concern as she says she’ll help me when I needed her most. I remember the taste of the extra food she made me when I was starving, and how she cleaned my wounds. I felt close to her during our year playing Silent City, but somehow, I feel so much closer now in just a short time.

I like to help people, but this is just crazy. We could die. I want to get back to programming my foster care blockchain and making things better for people without the risk. I also want human connections, though. If I leave, I’ll never see Nav again.

“Nav won’t come,” I say.

“Why?”

“She’s a saint.”

“Really? What miracle did she perform?” he asks.

“No, I was—” Sunny’s broad smile gives me pause.

“I was being sarcastic,” he says.

I roll my eyes.

“Are you sure leaving is safer? There’s a–”

“Hey, Sprite. Talking to your toy?” asks Alexander from the doorway, with a big grin.

I lower my head, too embarrassed to respond.

“Come on,” he says. “I’ll show you my guns. It’ll give you a chance to talk to a human.”

Normally, I’d be wary of a guy inviting me somewhere, especially at night, but for whatever reason, Alexander isn’t setting off my alarms. “Okay.”

His smile stretches, and he walks toward his room.

“Sunny, wait for me here. I’ll be back shortly.”

Sunny glances down the hall, then back at me. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be fine,” I say, then catch up to Alexander.

“You talk to that robot? Aren’t they really dumb?”

I shrug. “I’ve had him for a long time.”

We come to a small room with a bed, a bench, and a suitcase with clothes spilling out of it. Some kind of pungent chemical smell hangs in the air. My nose wrinkles.

“That’s probably the gun oil you smell. Or maybe the solvent. I clean my guns a lot,” he says and waves to the wall behind me.

I turn around. A long revolver and four military sniper rifles with considerable scopes hang on the wall. My eyebrows rise at the display. I saw similar guns in Silent City, but it’s a lot different to see them in the real world. He takes down the revolver and hands it to me.

The weight of it pushes down my hand, and I nearly drop it before using my other hand to support it.

“Forty-four magnum. Six-inch barrel. Eight round capacity. That’s my backup.”

“You could thrash someone with this.”

His smile widens. “Those South Americans better watch out.”

I hand the revolver back. He takes it in one hand as if the weight is nothing. Stronger than he seems.

“So tell me about your parents,” he says.

An image of my mom in a hospital bed flashes in my mind. Her skin was so pale, her breathing ragged. I still remember her last gasp of breath as she left me.

“No? Okay. Do you have any siblings?”

A chill passes through me. “I…no.”

“What do you like to do for fun?” he asks as he takes down the sleek rifle that he shot the drones with.

“I like to program and game.”

He hands me the rifle, and I stumble under its weight.

“I’ve never been into computers. I spend most of my time training,” he says.

I can’t imagine life without computers. He’s so strange. I lower the end of the barrel to the ground and grip the rifle’s textured rubber stock. I could never