The Hackers

by A. M. Johnson

Table of Contents

Table of Contents
parts: 1, 2, 3

conclusion

Dr. Brown did a double-take when he saw Emily at the next session. She was wearing the most elaborate pair of glasses he had ever seen, like something from a steampunk convention. The lenses appeared to be adjustable; that is, if the screws and gears on the sides were more than just decorative. The glass had a smoky green appearance. There were three buttons on the right ear piece and a dial on the left earpiece. At her feet sat a very fluffy orange tabby and a pretty Australian shepherd. They both watched him as he sat down in his chair.

“Well,” he began, “I see you were able to convince them to come today.”

Emily nodded. “They were actually kind of excited about it,” she said. “I was, too. I had a very exciting week and there is so much to tell you!”

Dr. Brown looked at her inquisitively. “You managed to get here without... doom bombs?”

“Oh, I did. That’s part of what is so exciting!”

Picking up his stylus, Dr. Brown smiled. “Let’s hear it, then.”

Emily took off her glasses and blinked several times. “Sorry,” she said, “These glasses are amazing, but I’m still getting used to them. They make me a little dizzy.”

“May I ask what they are for?”

“Sure,” replied Emily. “They let me see what Mr. Fluffybutt and Sheila see. That’s part of the exciting news I have for you. I’ve been on the Dark Web and discovered that there are thousands of people like me. Thousands!”

“Like you in what way, Emily?”

“People who are awake now, who have pets that speak to them and show them things. I found out so much! I know who the Makers are now, and I’ve developed the most amazing piece of technology that keeps away the doom bombs!”

The excitement in Emily’s voice bordered on hysteria in Dr. Brown’s opinion. He couldn’t help but think he was losing her, and she might not ever come back. He was quite certain the initial diagnosis was correct. This woman had schizophrenia, and would likely never agree to medication... until the delusions caused her to do something irreversible. After last week’s phone call, he was certain that she was now experiencing some type of manic episode. He had never had a patient go downhill so quickly, and it saddened him deeply.

“Who are the Makers, then?” Dr. Brown asked, trying to sound upbeat.

“For starters, I have to tell you that this is all a game.” Emily stood up in her excitement and gestured all around the room.

“THIS” — she nearly shouted — “is all created by the Makers. And, get this... they did it for entertainment purposes. ENTERTAINMENT! They made all of this to pass the time and get their jollies, and they don’t think that we are REAL, or that we matter. Our pain isn’t real to them. Our joy isn’t real to them. Life, death, everything in between, to them it’s all just part of the game. What they do to us here, well it doesn’t affect them in their lives, so we aren’t only NOT REAL, we are completely irrelevant.”

Perhaps sensing that she was coming across as unhinged, Emily sat back down. The dog and cat moved close to her, pressing against her legs. Emily looked down at the cat. “Mr. Fluffybutt says he has been trying to talk to you, but you don’t hear him. He says you are someone who can hear, but you are blocking them.” Emily looked at Dr. Brown. “Do you have any pets, doctor,” she asked, “other than the fish?”

“Yes,” Dr. Brown responded. “I have a cat named Icarus. I call him Icky for short. He’s very sweet, you’d love him.”

Emily nodded. “Mr. Fluffybutt says maybe you would hear Icky, since you are close to him. Once you hear Icky, you’ll be able to hear others, as well.”

Suddenly, Emily jumped up again and reached into her jeans pocket, pulling out a silver chain with a pendant. “I made you something,” she said, holding out the necklace.

“Oh, I can’t accept gifts from patients,” Dr. Brown began, but Emily ignored him, dropping the necklace directly into his lap, where it landed on the tablet with a clink.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “It has little monetary value. It’s made of silver, but it’s not good silver. The main thing is, it will keep the doom bombs off of you. You can safely go anywhere if you are wearing it.”

Dr. Brown picked up the pendant. It was a well-crafted evil eye, with stones of varying shades of blue composing the eye and an onyx for the pupil.

“It’s lovely,” he said honestly, “and I can see that you are quite skilled at jewelry-making. How exactly does it work?”

“I used radio components inside the pendant. It vibrates at a frequency the doom bombs don’t recognize, so they are not attracted to anyone wearing it.” She looked very pleased with herself.

Dr. Brown looked at Emily. Just three weeks ago, she had seemed like any other woman, experiencing the first signs of her disorder but still able to function in society. She had devolved in a very short span into a near-raving lunatic. His heart felt heavy. How had this happened so quickly?

“Anyway,” Emily continued, “I found out so much on the Dark Web that I wanted to tell you about. This game, even though we are kind of just pawns in it, we can change the outcomes if we’re open. I told you that Mr. Fluffybutt and Sheila belonged to a wealthy guy who died? Turns out he didn’t die. He hacked the game! He’s out there somewhere, outside the reach of the Makers. Want to know how he hacked the game?”

Dr. Brown didn’t respond, his sadness too deep.

“The animals! These Makers, they didn’t count on what machine learning and AI could do. The animals have learned to talk to us. Since they aren’t major players, the Makers didn’t pay attention to the fact that they were evolving! See, they made the game to learn from past play so that it becomes increasingly challenging over time. They didn’t want to get bored with it, and that will be their downfall. As the game gets smarter, all the actors in it, including the animals, keep getting smarter!”

Then she was up out of her chair again, grabbing her handbag. The dog and cat followed her as she headed for the door. “I’m sorry, Doc,” she said over her shoulder, “but I’ve got people to see before my four-legged hackers and I hit the road. I’ve bought an RV, I’m selling my house, and we’re going to travel and spread the word to anyone who listens. With my glasses and the necklace, and with Mr. Fluffybutt and Sheila at my side, we’re going to hack this game!”

As the dog and cat passed, Dr. Brown noted that they had an evil eye pendant on each of their collars.

* * *

“Hal?”

The man looked up from his seat on the sidewalk, surprised to see a woman wearing an odd pair of glasses, a dog and a cat standing close by.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded, always the gentleman.

“I brought you some dinner,” she said, holding out a container with wonderful smells emanating from it.

“Why, thank you very kindly,” he said, “I always appreciate good food.”

“You’re welcome. And I have a gift for you. But you have to promise me you’ll wear it and never take it off.”

She held out her hand, dropping a pendant on a chain into his outstretched palm. “Will you wear it?”

“Yes, ma’am, I will. And I won’t pawn it nor give it to no one.”

She nodded. “Good.” The woman with the strange glasses smiled as she watched Homeless Hal put the silver chain around his neck.

“Things are going to get better,” she said. “I just know it.”

Hal smiled. At least some people were still kind. It gave him hope.

As the three figures walked away from the poor homeless man, Sheila looked up at Emily.

“We’re hackers!” she said, pride in her voice.

“That’s right,” said Emily, patting Sheila on the head. “We’re hackers.”

* * *

Dr. Brown unlocked the door to his penthouse apartment and stepped inside, flipping on the entryway light. “Icky,” he called, and a sleek Siamese trotted toward him with an expectant meow.

Scooping up the cat, the doctor placed his keys on a hook, the tablet on his desk and his coat on the coat rack. Then, settled on the couch with the cat and a glass of good bourbon, Dr. Brown began to tell Icky about his day.

“I feel so bad for Emily,” he told the cat, scratching under his chin. “She’s so very delusional. I can’t believe how quickly she deteriorated. I don’t know what I’m going to do for her.”

Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out the necklace, placing it on his leg. Icky began to sniff and paw at it playfully.

“And what the hell am I going to do with this?” he asked of no one in particular.

Icky looked up into Dr. Brown’s eyes, staring intently. The voice, when the doctor heard it, was somehow exactly how he imagined Icky would sound if he could speak.

“Put it on,” the voice said. “Put it on and never take it off.”