Sons and Daughters of the Solitude: The Beginning
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or locations is unintentional. Click here to start at the beginning.
Chapter 1
Ten years ago... in the heart of winter.
It all started with a broken coffee cup...
"We are looking at the fiscal projections for 2025, assuming the rural population initiatives are successful and we harvest value as expected."
She swung the door of the conference room open with one foot, balancing the four cups of coffee in a practiced motion.
The burly man in the wrinkled suit met her eyes and the world stuttered. Salt spray, blood in the water, burning.
The coffee cups fell, and she watched in detached fascination as a white shard of porcelain bounced and sliced through the sheet of black coffee.
Silence held for a breath, then the accountant sprang forward out of his chair, "Are you okay?" Her boss gave her an icy stare and the client turned his eyes back to the presentation. The wife checked her pantsuit cuffs, brushing the silk to make sure no droplet had reached her.
"I am so sorry. No, no, I'll get it. Coffee round two coming right up." With a bright smile she dived for the broken cup and gathered up the mess before the accountant could get his hands dirty. He stepped back, frowned, then returned to his seat.
"We expect 5,000 new patients from Washington County alone - these units for revenue growth have been assigned the highest weight, you can see..."
The conference door swung shut behind her and she whisked back to the kitchenette. "Stupid, stupid, stupid"
In a quick rhythm she started the new round of coffees, grabbed a roll of paper towels and a fresh cream and sugar service.
"Cancer screenings, flu shots, vaccinations - the gap in potential vs. real revenues for these rural populations is remarkable as you can see in chart seven."
She slid the cream and sugar to the center of the conference table and stepped back. Kneeling to mop up the coffee puddle put her between the client and the accountant.
"We will close this gap in the next ten years following Strategic Initiative Lambda - yes, it's in your appendix there, Chris." Her boss snapped the accountant's attention back to the thick binder in front of him.
She slipped back out and glided down the hall, trying to reach the kitchen before the sodden mass in her hands started dripping.
The second round of coffee was delivered to the conference room without incident, though she had to stifle a smirk at the uncomfortable look the accountant slid her.
Assisting her boss with the quarterly corporate board meetings of Deaconess Hospital was part of her duties at Absaroke Capital Advisors. Billionaire clients of the firm would follow her boss's lead into any corporate venture the local city could dream up - all in the name of supporting the local economy. Business as usual.
~
Muddy slush soaked into the cardboard soles of her boots as she stared at her front bumper. The shiny luxury SUV had parallel parked in a non-existent space and backed up within an inch of her chipped and bent license plate. She looked up and squinted in the flat light, searching the cars that lined the back street for any occupants. No one lingered in their vehicle, texting on a smart phone or checking their makeup in the visor mirror. All was quiet.
Decisively, she slipped into the old police cruiser and closed the door as lightly as her father had taught her when arriving at a trail head during hunting season. She rattled the ignition patiently until the key turned and the engine caught.
She smiled grimly, prayed the studded snow tires would find enough traction and eased into gear. The Crown Vic rolled gently forward, until the front bumper kissed the rear undercarriage of the offending SUV. She bared her teeth without thinking and eased onto the gas, listening to the V8 growl.
The studs caught, and the SUV rolled forward.
A quick grin and she reversed, churning the slush and grit against the curb.
Harvest value as expected.... Units for revenue growth....
Her boss's words rattled in the back of her mind as she pulled away. Her phone buzzed.
New Wickr Me message...
The boys were waiting for her to get home and back online. Peter Pan and his ragged crew of misfits. What adventure would they have for her tonight? Hacking scammers? Playing capture the flag in some new bug bounty program?
The Check Engine light came on. When was the last time she checked the oil? Hunger twisted in her stomach as she drove the route home on autopilot.
~
The green and black glow of the Discord server lit her face, and the screen flowed with messages.
Happy Mother's Day Edie!
How was your day?
We missed you!
What was the beast up to today?
Hey, I gotta question for you, check your DMs pls
I watched that documentary you shared last night, City of Ghosts and OMG my life feels useless now.
She curled her hands and frowned. These boys trusted her, though they affectionately suspected she was a front for some deep-state agency.
Her face emptied of emotion and her fingers began to fly across the keyboard.
Hi guys. How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me Mom. I'm nobody, just a ghost in the machine, trying to keep you kids out of trouble.
I'm sorry. Long day. I'll tell you the full story in a minute, but first I have to ask a question. What do you know of greed? Profound greed. People who live on the backs of others and grow fat and entitled while the rest of us swallow their lies. What do you know of the entitlement of spirit that says "your life, your freedom, your choices are meaningless - because I own you, and I will weigh your flesh and blood against my profit margins and reduce you to a line item for my investors"