Kill Switch (Notes of Necrosoph Book 4), page 2
All three of them climbed down from the top level to a series of platforms below. Via trees, girders, and various planks and even ropes for Jen, they either flapped, climbed, jumped, or swung like three monkeys. This was second nature to them all now. Jen was strong and agile thanks to Job's feat of engineering, and utterly at home at height.
Job's construction was not only perfect for Tyr, but Jen too. I wondered if he'd had that in mind when he built it. Knowing it would make her so strong, and at ease being up high. Something that she'd need to accomplish if she was to fly Tyr when she, and he, were older? I wouldn't put it past him, the wily, grumpy old bastard.
The more I'd come here and investigated it, even climbed up to the third level once, the more impressed I was by Sanctuary. It truly was an incredible achievement.
Turns out, Job had once spent a decade as a very valued engineer back in the day, and was responsible for teams who built some of the most impressive Victorian bridges in the land. He'd even gone to America back when it was a months-long passage, just because he loved it so much.
No surprise then that he'd been able to build Tyr an awesome new home, and a place for Jen to hide from her parents when she wanted to act all grown up.
Not that she was. She was still my little girl and would remain so for the rest of her hopefully very long life. She loved it here, hanging out with Tyr, even sleeping out when the weather was fine, which was a lot of the time. But ever since we'd first seen the finished Sanctuary, it had become a place not just for Jen and Tyr, but for a new friend too.
"Hey Dad." Jen waved as she landed on the platform. The whole thing swayed slightly as they bounced about, utterly unperturbed. "You sure you aren't coming up?"
"Not today. I'm taking a break from doing terrifying stuff."
"Haha. You're so funny. There's nothing to be scared of."
"I know. Right, little Miss Monkey, you coming for lunch or not? I'll eat your food if you don't hurry."
"Okay, be right there." Jen dropped down, then hung by her hands from the side of the platform and swung herself out into space. I couldn't look, just breathed again when I heard her land on the lower level.
I left her to it, knowing she'd be safe. But a tight knot in the pit of my stomach remained, because I was her father, and I always worried. I knew this was a good time, that the future was when I would really stress, so I lived with it. I wasn't unique in my concern. It's what parents did best. Always had. Always would. We try to keep them safe, but we cannot protect our children from the big, bad world. Merely show them ways to deal with it, to cope with what might be out there waiting. Even that's never enough. They have to find out for themselves. And that truly is a terrifying proposition.
I checked my phone again, slave to the tech. Still no phone or internet signal. This was getting weird.
"Come on, Woofer, let's go have our birthday lunch. It's the weekend. I love it when my birthday is on a weekend."
"Why? When is Woofer's birthday?"
"Yours? Um, not sure. Do you have a birthday?"
"No. Woofer never had birthday."
"I think you're right. Would you like to share mine? We could have it together."
"Yes. Woofer want birthday. How old is Woofer now?"
"Well, um, this will get confusing. You're about eight, and, er, I guess maybe we should stick to celebrating when it is your birthday. We don't have an exact date, but it's around April time, I think. We never knew for sure, so I think we just decided you looked like the kind of dog to be born in April." I shrugged.
"So Woofer will die soon? He really will?"
"You will die when I tell you it's okay to. Not before."
"Soph makes a joke about Woofer being dead?" The poor guy hung his head low and stared at me pitifully.
"No, of course not. I love you dearly and never want to lose you." I squatted and hugged him. I adored hugging Woofer. It was like a stinky old blanket, but with extra drool. He did love to drool.
"Play ball with poor, sad, old Woofer?" he whined.
"Sure boy. Where's your ball?"
Woofer dashed off, anxiety gone, ears high, tail higher, flapping as he ran around Job's beautiful meadow in search of a ball that was most likely up by the house in our garden. Still, it kept him trim.
It reminded me that I needed to talk to Phage about something I'd discovered on the Necronet concerning the power pellets.
Woofer followed me through the gate we'd all decided was a good idea when I fixed the fences. It made access easy and nobody would ruin the new fencing.
Woofer raced up to the house, and when I got there he was sitting and panting happily, bright orange ball in his mouth.
I took a deep breath, smiled, and said, "Drop the ball, Woofer. I said, drop!"
Woofer ran off. With the ball. I left the nutter to it and headed back inside.
Phage wasn't in the kitchen, and the TV was blaring, which was unusual, as we weren't big on TV in the day and hardly even watched it at night.
"What you doing? Watching daytime TV? Is it about people selling houses? Or buying stuff from an antiques shop then trying to make more money by putting it into an auction? Never seemed to make much sense to me. I mean—"
"Quiet! This is important."
I moved beside Phage where she was sitting cross-legged in front of the TV on the murder rug. I sat beside her and listened.
"…worldwide phenomenon. Every country in the world has lost all internet signal, most TV stations and radio stations are unable to broadcast, and there is currently no way to make a telephone call. Early indications report the current death toll from accidents and the inability to call emergency services is in the millions. Crime is expected to skyrocket as criminals will be able to do as they wish and not fear the police, and it is believed that martial law worldwide will be announced within the hour unless service is resumed. We may lose this broadcast at any moment as we are currently running on—"
The screen went blank. Phage tried all the channels with the remote. The world had truly gone dark.
"Those bastards," I moaned.
"Who? Who's responsible?"
"I knew this was coming. Everyone did."
"I didn't. Saw what coming? What are you talking about?" asked Phage, looking worried.
"It's them," I told her, waving my hand around.
"Who? You're making no sense."
"The bloody government. Or, you know, not our government, the worldwide order. The ones really in charge. Our overlords."
"You mean the Necros? Those making our lives a misery?"
"No, not them. Now it makes sense why my note didn't need the app. They knew this would happen. But it isn't them, it's the powers-that-be. Just another way to control everyone. They want us locked up, not asking questions, not causing trouble."
"Soph, you're talking nonsense. This isn't some big, worldwide conspiracy. Why would those running the world want all communication turned off?"
"So they can do whatever the fuck they want. That's why. Think about it. They could be doing anything. You just wait. It'll be carnage. Like she said on the TV, crime will skyrocket. No police, no firemen, no ambulance. God, imagine what it's like in hospitals."
"Hospitals don't need the internet."
"No, but they need phones. They need ambulances. People will just be turning up in their cars. It'll be mental. Out of control. And how will we know what's happening? They could be changing everything."
"They? You keep saying they. Who are they?" We both stood, then headed into the kitchen.
"Is lunch ready?" I asked, looking at the mess on the counter.
"Soph, how can you think about that at a time like this? And no, I was halfway through when the radio died, so I turned the TV on. Right, so what do you really think is happening?"
My stomach rumbled. "I think that the megacorps in charge, the ones behind basically everything we now buy, have shut the world down."
"For what possible reason? I'm sure it's just a glitch."
"A glitch? How can it be a glitch? There's like a gazillion satellites and whatnot for phones, and there are digital signals and, er, internet switchboard thingies that mean you can't just flip a switch and shut it off. It's all different for every country."
Phage laughed. "You idiot. You have absolutely no idea how any of it works, do you?"
"Um, no," I admitted. "None whatsoever. Do you?"
"No. Not a clue. I know phones work via relay stations and satellites. But the internet? No idea. And TV. That's transmitters, I think. Haha, gosh, how does any of it work?"
"It works because we believe it does."
"That is by far one of the most stupid things you have ever said," laughed my beautiful-smelling wife.
"Aha, but not the most stupid."
"No," she conceded, "you've said much more stupid things in the past. So, what now?"
"Lunch?" I suggested.
"Yes, lunch. I bet it will all be fixed by the time we've eaten."
"I wouldn't bet on it. I wonder if this is happening everywhere? I mean every single country? That's what the woman just said, right?"
"Doubt it. It's impossible to do that."
"Ah, I remember. It's called a kill switch."
"What, an actual switch? A way to just flip all communication off? Seriously?" Phage waved the bread knife as she spoke.
"Hey, don't shoot the messenger," I told her, backing away to the other side of the table.
Phage looked at the knife. "Sorry. But seriously?"
"I heard about it. I'm sure. Actually, it was probably back when you were a little baby. I remember they turned off the internet in numerous places. Egypt, Myanmar, when the military took over. Lots of other countries. They called it a kill switch. I don't think it really is, but the governments can do it. They just stop the service providers from running."
"Kill switch. Sounds made up to me."
"What's that about a kill switch?" asked Jen as she skipped into the kitchen. She was covered in dirt and her hands were filthy. I was so proud.
"The internet is dead. And there's no mobile signal. No messaging, no phone calls, no TV, not even radio. We have officially stepped back in time. Haha, you wait, you'll be getting the jitters within the hour," I told my princess.
Jen just shrugged. "Probably just a sun spot or something. It'll be back on. And besides, we can just use the landline."
"Nope," I said smugly. "It's the same thing. You won't be able to speak to anyone. The phone runs via the internet now. They did that years ago. So do traffic lights, cash machines, just about everything. It's all digital stuff now. Nothing will work. Nothing at all. Think what the roads would be like if everyone was driving."
Jen frowned, then picked up the handset from the charging cradle. I wasn't even sure why we still had it. I couldn't recall it ever being used, and it had certainly never rung. I wondered what our number was.
"It's dead," said Jen, the handset at her ear. She put it back down and checked her phone, then glared at it. She wandered off then came back and confirmed, "No TV. What's going on?"
"Like I just told Phage, it's the kill switch."
"We learned about that for a project," said Jen. "We had to see if it was possible to turn off all worldwide communication."
"And was it?" asked Phage.
"Sure," she said breezily. "Most countries have laws they can enact if we're under cyber attack or something. They can force all the companies to turn stuff off. Then that's it, done. Or you cut the big cables. Most internet works via these massive cables running for thousands of miles along the ocean floor. You can just cut one end, then that's that."
"Shut up! Big cables under the sea? That doesn't sound right," I said.
Jen shrugged. "Look it up."
We were all silent for a moment, then laughed. Because we couldn't look it up. We couldn't check any facts, phone a friend, or even ask the audience, because we weren't in a game show, although it certainly felt like it at times. A game show to the death. Now it was just us. It suddenly felt very real, and really rather lonely.
Damn. No Necronet. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Nothing like someone turning off the world to make you realize you have issues.
"So, what's for lunch?" asked Jen breezily.
"Aren't you worried?" asked Phage.
"Mum, it's just the internet."
"And phones. And TV," I reminded her.
"Yeah, so? It'll get sorted. Anyway, we can just use catch-up." Even as she spoke, she realized what she was saying. "Um, no, guess not."
"They'll turn it back on again. Won't they?" asked Phage.
I wasn't so sure.
WOOFER WILL DIE?
"Woofer will live for short time now?"
"What was that, buddy?" I turned to Woofer, sitting beside Jen on the sumptuous new lawn that seemed to need mowing constantly, as she tapped at the phone we'd finally caved in and got her.
"Want to stay with Jen and Soph and Phage and all friends. Not want to die." Woofer hung his head low and leaned against Jen.
"Don't be sad. You're still young," she told him. Jen put her phone away with a frown then cuddled Woofer. He whined quietly.
"Why do you keep thinking such dark thoughts, Woofer?" I asked him.
"Everyone else not need to worry. Woofer is getting old. Feel old. Sad. Don't want to leave everyone. Don't want to hurt and be alone. Be dead in ground."
I caught Jen's eye as she brushed away a tear. I did the same. He'd got worse, talking about his mortality more than ever lately. The poor guy was really hung up about it. Was it because he'd come along with me to Liverpool? Actually seen how brutal the world could be? But hadn't I taken him because he was worried about dying?
Was it because of Tyr's multitudinous changes? Woofer had certainly been concerned about the shift from wyrmling to the massive creature he now was. He couldn't keep up; Tyr changed so fast. Or was it because Jen herself was growing quickly, too? She was different now, a true young lady. Still full of the joy of youth, but like Tyr there was a clear change.
More serious, less keen to play silly games, and thus, less fun times for Woofer. He was, like all dogs, a forever child. They didn't grow up and turn into a grumpy, serious adult, stressing about bills and jobs and why things had always been better in the good ol' days. Dogs always wanted to play and be daft until they were unable to.
Woofer was a long way from that. He was healthy, fit, if a little solid on the rear end like most Labradors, so what was it?
"Woofer, let's have a serious talk," I told him. I scooted over to him and Jen and looked into his deep brown eyes. "You look so unhappy, boy. Why do you keep dwelling on this?"
"Woofer is sad. Want to play for all times. Don't want to miss out on fun and must see Jen grow into woman. Maybe because of Tyr? Tyr grows, is different. Now Woofer realizes Jen won't always be same. Woofer tries to think about her before, but is hard."
"I know it is. You're a dog, and dogs live in the present. Not the past. But they don't normally think about the future, either."
"It's because of us," said Jen. "Woofer, you can talk and think more than other dogs because you've been around us, so you pick up some of the magic that comes from us and all the other gifted animals. It's made you smart." Jen hugged him again then rubbed his head.
"Woofer knows not smart. Just dog. Dumb dog." His ears were flat against his head again. I don't think I'd seen a sadder sight in my life.
Over the years, I'd had the pleasure of having numerous dogs as my companions, and conversations similar to this had come up a few times. But Jen was right. Although not the brightest spark, by dog standards Woofer was a clever fellow. Talking with the other dogs I'd known wasn't like this. It was very basic, more about what they wanted to do, what they wanted to eat, where to go for a walk, their desires and urges made real. There wasn't much actual chat because dogs were just that. Dogs.
"Woofer, you are very different to others, Jen is right. You are smart. We have proper conversations. That's rare. You weren't like this when I first brought you home. You didn't talk like this."
"Yes, you're a true Necro already," Jen told him.
"Woofer dumb. Knows he's dumb. Talks funny. Don't know how to say things different."
"You're perfect just the way you are. Isn't he, Jen?" I nodded my encouragement to her.
"Absolutely! Just about perfect." Jen rested her head against Woofer's side and stroked his back while I rubbed his ear. Woofer whined.
"Oh, Woofer, don't be so sad. You are still young. You're what? Eight, isn't it?"
"Woofer not know. Too dumb. Can only count to one. One."
"Oh, Woofer." Jen burst out crying and squeezed him tightly.
Woofer whined and lay down on the grass, utterly depressed. My heart felt like it was breaking. The toughest thing in the world about living with animals is that they die so soon. It felt like only yesterday I'd brought Woofer home. Jen was a tiny girl, and she adored Woofer from the moment she set eyes on him. We all did. We all loved him.
"Jen, go and get Phage for me, please. There is something we all need to discuss as a family. Tell her to eat a little of the power pellet, just enough so she can understand Woofer, okay?
"Okay. What's this about?"
"Just go get her, please. I'll explain in a while. And be quick." I angled my head to Woofer. Jen nodded, knowing that Woofer was about as sad as any dog in the whole world had ever been.
"Don't worry, we'll sort something out."
"Woofer won't die?" he asked with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. His tail thudded slowly.
"Who knows? Maybe you will live a very long time. I sure hope so."
"Woofer won't. He will be dead soon and miss Jen becoming a grown woman. Knows will be dead before then. Don't know how many years until Jen is grown, but too many for Woofer to see." Woofer turned away from me and curled his head into his legs to hide his sadness.
I felt like the worst person alive. This was the problem with the Necro life rubbing off on poor creatures like Woofer. Unlike other animals, he knew what he was, that he would die, and what that meant. Your regular dog doesn't understand such concepts. They aren't wired that way.
