Read 1.4 for Free Online Page A

the technologies and building the devices that will make the general population’s lives easier. And lining their own pockets.
    I don’t know how I became so cynical. There’s no reason for it really. I’d lived a privileged life and I had wanted for nothing – except my mother back, I guess, and things like that wouldn’t happen even if we had all the credit in the world
    – so there really was no reason for me to think such things.
    My father’s Mercedes-Royce Electric Shadow is flashed with premium software, so it’s allowed to travel on the higher tiers of the beltway. Below us was another gridlock, but up here – on the pay-as-you-drive tiers – there were less than twenty cars in both directions between home and the South of the city.
    The rolling traffic restrictions put in place to deal with the vast numbers of road users simply don’t apply if you have the software, and the money, to roll out on the private beltways.
    My father was silent as he steered the car towards our destination. He had stopped speaking pretty much the moment I suited up. I’d tried to get him talking, but he made it clear that he was thinking about his Keynote speech, and preferred not to be distracted by conversation.
    Or my conversation, anyway.
    Which, I guessed, was because of his latest research project. I didn’t get to hear much about it; it was classified work for the World Government. I assumed it was an extension of his usual research into the construction of a new way of computing, but, for all he told me, he could have been working on a way to turn the sky into blueberry jam.
    I might have pressed him, just to stave off the boredom, but I got an instant message on the Link.
    ?Are you going to be there tonight? Perry hit me.
    /Yeah./ I bounced back. I’m on a three line whip./
    ?What does that even mean? Perry queried.
    /I really don’t know./ I offered. /Something my mother used to say. She was obsessed with political history, so I guess it’s something that’s long gone now./
    Perry waited, to give my reference to my mother the proper measure of respect; then came back with: / Whatever./
    ?I take it you’re attending too? I asked.
    /Pops wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer./
    ?Who are you going to be wearing?
    ?What are you, the fashion police?
    /Just want to make sure I’m looking better than you./ I said, only half-joking.
    /Bound to be. Pops has put a ceiling on my Flash. I’m reusing an old template./
    /Tough./
    ?Ain’t it? ?You?
    /Bartlett./
    Oh. ?Big guns, huh? /Well, I submit to your superior might./
    /Good to hear that you know when you’re beaten./ / Always give a fellow his due, that’s my motto./
    ?Since when? I asked, incredulously.
    /Since now./ Perry replied.
    I don’t even know what it is about Perry and me and our clothes. It started when we were in Prep, and has just kind of continued.
    It’s like a designer escalation; a clothes war.
    Trying to dress the best for events we were both attending.
    Looked like tonight I was going to win.
    I was about to disconnect when Perry said something weird.
    ?Hey, did you hear the latest about the ghosts on the Link?
    ?Huh? I had no idea what he was talking about.
    /Oh, Peter,/ Perry said, /Sometimes I forget just how little you really see of the Link. The ghosts in the photographs. Everyone’s talking about them./
    /Not everyone./ I said. ?So what are we talking?
    /Ghosts./ Perry reiterated. /Molly Grabowitz saw ghosts, and they passed through her photo albums and left an image of themselves in every photo. Ruined them all. Here’s a bookmark. You can view the photos. Pretty scary stuff./
    ?Who the hex is Molly Grabowitz?
    /Oh, boy. Look her up. I gotta go./
    /Catch you there./ I said.
    /Most def. Later./
    I smiled.
    The Link might be a repository of the world’s knowledge, accessible by anyone with the right credit rating, but it’s also a place where all the world’s crazy people meet up and trade conspiracy theories.
    For some reason Perry