Silence filled the Holland living room, then within a few seconds of each other, Adam's parents took in deep breathes and began looking around the room in confused amazement. Nothing made sense to them. One second ago they had been having lunch at their dining room table with their son, both Paul and Sarah Holland could swear to that fact. The next thing they remember, they were both sitting on the couch in the living room with no idea of how they got there. Time had passed though, and a lot of it. The sun had long since set and the soft glow of a street lamp was all that filtered through the windows. But what shocked Sarah the most was that she had on completely different clothes. She was wearing a provocative dress that she only ever wore for very special occasions. And what's more, she felt like she had been...intimate was the word she preferred to use, even in her head.
When husband and wife realized that they couldn't get any answers from each other about the day's events or what might have inspired their many hours of collective amnesia, they began to climb the stairs to question their son. Adam had been with them at the dinner table for lunch. Maybe he knew something. Maybe he had been affected too and they should all see a doctor.
They were too confused to notice the commotion happening right outside their peaceful home. Before they were halfway up the stairs, a battering ram crashed through their front door and men in black armored gear poured into their entryway. Guns were pointed directly at Paul and Sarah, but no shots were fired. Instead, they were yanked and dragged back down the stairs then thrust onto their couch where they awoke in the first place. The armed men only knew the language of scowl, but their distracted movements and furtive glances made it clear that they were not here for them.
Paul managed a frightened, "What is going on?" He stood up as two men went up the stairs, and now his fright mixed with anger as he cried, "No! My son is up there!"
Moments later they heard the gunfire and Sarah Holland was screaming and sobbing. Paul tried to go up the stairs but was pushed down on the couch again. They stayed there for several minutes, trying to console each other and desperately hoping for some answers.
They watched helplessly as men collected every piece of electronics in their house. After what seemed an eternity of people coming and going, they were approached by a large muscular man. He did not give his name, and spoke with a curt detachment. "Sorry for this folks. We had our orders. Your son violated several government laws and was processed accordingly. A POM agent might stop by with follow up questions in the next 24 hours. We advise you be as honest and forthcoming as you are able to insure any additional investigation go smoothly so none of my guys have to come back here."
The last sentence barely registered as a gurney with a black body bag was carried down the stairs. The mother and father this time were allowed to rush to it, but were barred from following it out the door. They stood in the threshold as their son's corpse was put into the back of an unmarked black van. Sarah's cries of anguish began anew.
No lights were on from the surrounding houses, but several curtains were drawn. Neighbors peered out in wonder at the disturbance that had rocked their usually peaceful suburb. Every house knew the protocol. If the threat was contained and neutralized, every residence would have their recent video footage, captured by implants in their own eyes, viewed over the few days. If the threat was still present, it would happen in hours. Either way, everyone's not privacy was moot for the time being, but this was nothing new.
Directly across the street from the Holland's, one of those neighbors had seen enough. The elderly woman who lived there had seen the body being carried from the home. She had also seen the parents still alive and well. That's what she had been waiting and hoping for. She went to the computer she had left turned on in her kitchen and pressed a few keys. A countdown began on the computer. She pressed a few more buttons. A few seconds later, the signal square on the back of her neck became a solid light, and she awoke as if from a dream.
A sector away in another city, Kate Henderson, who had been sleeping soundly after a awaking suddenly from a bout of sleepwalking, shifted uncomfortably as if having a nightmare. Her eyes then snapped open and she flung the covers off of her small frame. She was in a hurry but she could not help take a moment to look down at the shapely figure she possessed. It was very apparent that she worked out. Her body was tight and trim. She was on the dating scene right now and wanted to make every attempt to catch the eyes of a potential suitor, someone like herself who was driven and climbing the corporate ladder.
Kate rolled her eyes as all that information came into her mind unbidden. She focused on the mission at hand and dressed quickly in what she had laid out for herself for her early morning presentation, then left her apartment and walked the flight up to the two bedroom apartment directly above her. She knocked as quietly as she could on the door. She tapped her feet impatiently, a habit she had picked up from her father when she was a little girl.
Footsteps approached, then a man's voice came through the door. "Who is it?"
Kate opened her mouth and spoke, but it was not with her high, feminine voice, but the low gravelly voice of the newly deceased Daniel Stein. "It's me, let me in." The door opened quickly and Kate walked in.
The man looked her up and down, taking in her professional outfit, a dark blue silk shirt with black skirt. "What's with the dress for success outfit?"
"It's what she had ready to go and I thought it best to deliver the news as quickly as possible," Dan answered, his voice seeming very odd from Kate's lips. "Where's Adam?"
The man drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly. "He's in the bedroom. He's been crying since we got here."