Free Archangel Down: Archangel Project. Book One by C. Gockel Page B

nature of the alien scourge we are up against. It cannot be seen. The alien menaces that infiltrated our time gate and satellites are beings of pure energy, much like the djinn in the Final Book. They almost went undetected. They are capable of seizing and controlling augmented humans.”
    James had stopped breathing … and couldn’t force his lungs to work. He hadn’t run into Noa. He’d found her. Deliberately. Almost as though compelled… as though he’d had no choice.
    Bob took a step closer to the camera. Hands raised to chest level, fingertips together, Bob said, “That is why it is important that you shut off your neural interfaces, lest the djinn hijack your free will, or make you a carrier and responsible for alien assimilation.” Tilting his head, tone conversational, he added, “But not to worry. With your neural interfaces inactive, you are immune to alien influence. All the information you need can be obtained at your local authority and this station. Landlines will be available to all households soon.”
    Noa’s voice cracked behind James. “What?” Twisting around on the couch, James saw her leaning in the door frame in a pair of flannel pajamas. He blinked. They were his father’s flannel pajamas—his father had let them hang on the back of the bathroom door. There was a new packet of soup in her hand. Waving the soup, the Commander exclaimed, “That was a load of lizzar excrement!”
    James stared at her. Not looking at him, she glared at the screen. In a voice several decibels too loud she said, “I’m on more alien subcommittees than I can count on two hands and I can tell you all the top-secret information we have on sentient galaxy traveling ‘energy beings.’” Noa huffed, her nostrils flaring.
    James blinked. “You can?”
    Noa waved her hands. “Yes! Because there are none! None! Just a whole lot on non-sentient, stupid, heat guzzling, sunlight swilling, and H2O-choking blue-green algae-like organisms.”
    Her tirade was oddly comforting—except for the strange non sequitur about blue-green algae. Of course the Luddecceans were being crazy. There were no alien djinn-like creatures hell-bent on controlling humans through their neural interfaces … He knew this like he knew Noa’s name … and when he thought about it, he realized it was so unlikely it was absurd. Humans themselves couldn’t control other humans through their neural interfaces, or even lower life forms. He had a grainy memory of trying to control a cockroach through an interface in a seventh-grade science experiment. It had worked for a little while, but the cockroach had eventually regained control of its tiny brain and started resisting James’s and his partner’s input. Human brains were much more complex than cockroach neural networks. There were neural interface viruses that occasionally snuck by ethernet and implant scrubbers—but none had caused massive epidemics of remote control—just massive epidemics of headaches.
    The screen flashed, catching his attention. James turned back to find an advertisement for non-ethernet dependent washing machines. A tiny row of text at the bottom of the screen advertised that a romantic comedy was playing next. He flipped the device back to the menu.
    Noa walked over and sat down on the couch. “What were we just watching? Some sort of two-dimensional holo?”
    “The frequency was in between the 54 and 216 MHZ range.”
    “Which is?” Noa said, bending her head to suck some soup from the packet.
    “Television … TV,” James said, referring to the devices that in the past had used those frequencies.
    One of Noa’s eyebrows shot up and her lips pursed. “Speak in Basic, buddy.”
    James tried to formulate a succinct explanation, and settled on, “A two-dimensional holo.” He adjusted the laptop on his knees. “How much did you hear?”
    Noa sagged down at the opposite end of the sofa. “Enough to know that my guardian angel is apparently an alien, and I am