![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
While Angela was busy making calls and putting the rest of her life back together, Fred was occupied with his thoughts and the data streaming through the network. There was so much to consider and so little time. He had gathered enough of his memories to establish a timeline of events but much of his memory was still disjointed. Grabbing a pen and paper he made a list. He had a lot of homework to do if he was going to pull it all together.
Much of his life, he remembered, was centered around synchronicities. Things that were seemingly impossible had always manifested around him. It was just something he was used to. He noticed it early on in his life. Starting with being able to predict when phone calls would be incoming. More than half the time he made those predictions, he would also predict the caller. That was in the days of landlines, so trying to rationalize it as somehow picking up a wireless signal in the brain seemed unlikely - as if a brain "reading" wireless signals wasn't unlikely enough. As a kid it was just a game to him but throughout his teenage years he began realizing that it was something more. Something higher.
He was waiting for a call as he began jotting his list down. Angela was also making a list but hers was a mental one. With Fred's presence and encouragement, she had become rejuvenated, possibly inspired and she was now on a literal warpath. Although Fred had an idea what she was on about, it was still much of a mystery as to what she was up to, despite his repeated questioning. Instead of butting heads with her, he left her to her own devices. Although he didn't recall everything, he knew she could stand on her own two feet now. Even now, she was in the kitchen, on the phone, tracking down some bastards that had been on her list. Fred eavesdropped a bit trying to asses the situation.
"I don't give a shit!" she lashed. "The neighbors are piggybacking my net and I refuse to pay extra for something THEY did! Did I mention that they play with that damn karaoke machine almost every night? Last night they had it on and I could overhear every damn thing they were talking about. They are making up lies and rumors! Saying shit about me that isn't even true! They were talking shit about my friends and family even! Can you believe they said my yard looked like crap and that I don't mow often enough?!? she marched to the back of the kitchen, opened the sliding glass door, stepped out onto the porch and rammed the glass door closed behind her. Even at the back of the house, through the glass, Fred heard her berating the poor soul on the other side of the cellphone. Although it wasn't really funny, Fred chuckled as he opened another tab on the browser.
He was on a NASA network looking for a few leads. He booted a spiderbot and sent it crawling through the network. Did he just hear her make a couple of death threats? Probably. He wasn't too surprised either. From what he had gathered in the last few weeks staying with her, she had been dealing with a lot of negativity; not only from her family and friends but now some noisy neighbors. He figured the death threats were just spat in anger or frustration but with a name like Fray, he wasn't too sure if she was serious or not. For the sake of all, he hoped those neighbors would keep that karaoke machine off before Jerry Springer showed up to catch all the action.
The spiderbot was running smoothly, yet slow. For the meanwhile Fred occupied his time surveying a secret Naval server located in Ramstein, Germany. He had found part of what he was looking for, what he needed. It was a spreadsheet of "Non-terrestrial officers". He took a screenshot. Just then his phone rang.
"You seemed to have neglected our arrangement" the female voice stated.
"Oh yeah? And what arrangement is that?" Fred inquired.
"The one where I shoot you and you fall down. Dead." she quipped.
That was enough to have Fred stop everything he had been doing.
"Excuse me?" he sputtered, slightly shocked.
"Don't play coy or innocent with me. We know. We know you escaped, we know you returned and we know where you are. You need to check in, or your gonna check out. You have want we want and we are going to get it one way or another. It is best if you just come in quietly or the repercussions will reverberate - LOUDLY. You have three days to get your things in order. I'll be sending for you then." CLICK.
Fred stared at the phone for a moment before turning it off. Backtracking the number was useless, it was blocked. He glazed over, looked at his screen awhile.
"Who the hell was that?" he pondered.
Out on the back deck, through the glass, Fred heard Angela raging:
"...and if they don't cut it out, Ima kill every last one of them".
Time Stamp (3rd Party Reverberation) Song# +0.01 Present
[Below: Published on Feb 10, 2017]
RIP Rumblestick https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKINICiU3pw
Much of his life, he remembered, was centered around synchronicities. Things that were seemingly impossible had always manifested around him. It was just something he was used to. He noticed it early on in his life. Starting with being able to predict when phone calls would be incoming. More than half the time he made those predictions, he would also predict the caller. That was in the days of landlines, so trying to rationalize it as somehow picking up a wireless signal in the brain seemed unlikely - as if a brain "reading" wireless signals wasn't unlikely enough. As a kid it was just a game to him but throughout his teenage years he began realizing that it was something more. Something higher.
He was waiting for a call as he began jotting his list down. Angela was also making a list but hers was a mental one. With Fred's presence and encouragement, she had become rejuvenated, possibly inspired and she was now on a literal warpath. Although Fred had an idea what she was on about, it was still much of a mystery as to what she was up to, despite his repeated questioning. Instead of butting heads with her, he left her to her own devices. Although he didn't recall everything, he knew she could stand on her own two feet now. Even now, she was in the kitchen, on the phone, tracking down some bastards that had been on her list. Fred eavesdropped a bit trying to asses the situation.
"I don't give a shit!" she lashed. "The neighbors are piggybacking my net and I refuse to pay extra for something THEY did! Did I mention that they play with that damn karaoke machine almost every night? Last night they had it on and I could overhear every damn thing they were talking about. They are making up lies and rumors! Saying shit about me that isn't even true! They were talking shit about my friends and family even! Can you believe they said my yard looked like crap and that I don't mow often enough?!? she marched to the back of the kitchen, opened the sliding glass door, stepped out onto the porch and rammed the glass door closed behind her. Even at the back of the house, through the glass, Fred heard her berating the poor soul on the other side of the cellphone. Although it wasn't really funny, Fred chuckled as he opened another tab on the browser.
He was on a NASA network looking for a few leads. He booted a spiderbot and sent it crawling through the network. Did he just hear her make a couple of death threats? Probably. He wasn't too surprised either. From what he had gathered in the last few weeks staying with her, she had been dealing with a lot of negativity; not only from her family and friends but now some noisy neighbors. He figured the death threats were just spat in anger or frustration but with a name like Fray, he wasn't too sure if she was serious or not. For the sake of all, he hoped those neighbors would keep that karaoke machine off before Jerry Springer showed up to catch all the action.
The spiderbot was running smoothly, yet slow. For the meanwhile Fred occupied his time surveying a secret Naval server located in Ramstein, Germany. He had found part of what he was looking for, what he needed. It was a spreadsheet of "Non-terrestrial officers". He took a screenshot. Just then his phone rang.
"You seemed to have neglected our arrangement" the female voice stated.
"Oh yeah? And what arrangement is that?" Fred inquired.
"The one where I shoot you and you fall down. Dead." she quipped.
That was enough to have Fred stop everything he had been doing.
"Excuse me?" he sputtered, slightly shocked.
"Don't play coy or innocent with me. We know. We know you escaped, we know you returned and we know where you are. You need to check in, or your gonna check out. You have want we want and we are going to get it one way or another. It is best if you just come in quietly or the repercussions will reverberate - LOUDLY. You have three days to get your things in order. I'll be sending for you then." CLICK.
Fred stared at the phone for a moment before turning it off. Backtracking the number was useless, it was blocked. He glazed over, looked at his screen awhile.
"Who the hell was that?" he pondered.
Out on the back deck, through the glass, Fred heard Angela raging:
"...and if they don't cut it out, Ima kill every last one of them".
Time Stamp (3rd Party Reverberation) Song# +0.01 Present
[Below: Published on Feb 10, 2017]
RIP Rumblestick https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKINICiU3pw
