Free Dead Man's Resolution by Thomas K. Carpenter Page B

sound as it pulled loose. He used the rag to clean it before he shoved it into his pocket.
    “Let’s go home,” Tibor said.
    They found their electroscooters behind a bush that had grown through the broken concrete.
    William spoke up, “Are you sure we should take that computer? I don’t think we want anything to tie us to that body. They could check the digital records to find we were in the area. The satellites redigitize everything about once a week. What if they make a pass while we’re standing here?” William looked at the sky as if he might be able to see a satellite through the cloud layer. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
    “The chances of a satellite scanning our area right now is null. And I don’t think this guy cares if we take it.”
    “I care. We’re going to graduate soon and I don’t want anything to screw up my scholarships,” William whispered almost too quiet for Tibor to hear.
    “We can’t get in that much trouble. The guy’s dead, right?”
    William kicked a sooty bottle across the pavement. “You don’t ever get in trouble because your dad’s never home.” The bottle ended its spin at Tibor’s feet.
    “I don’t get in any trouble because my Mom’s dead,” Tibor’s voice cracked. He swooped up the bottle and launched it against the wall, the shards of glass scattering like tiny jewels.
    A long silence hung between them before William finally spoke, “I’m sorry. Of course, I’ll help you.”
    William attempted to give his friend a reassuring smile, but it died beneath Tibor’s blank stare. William left on his electrobike.
    A pink corona filtered through the gray haze near the horizon. Tibor wiped a tear from his eye and got on his bike. They’d have to hurry to get home before dark. Tibor thought about his outburst and considered throwing the computer into the bushes, but he didn’t and followed the red tail light of William’s bike into the dusk.
    #
    The two friends milled around school until the halls were empty. They'd agreed to meet when classes were done so they could use the high-tech computer lab.
    Tibor dropped a few mods in the local systems allowing him tracking access to anyone in the school. Another mod camouflaged their information so they looked like a couple of janitoral workers. Hacking geocodes wouldn’t just get him suspended, the Buffet High security-Nazis would notify the local authorities and given his father’s business, he’d be banned from all technology until he was out of the house. But he had to know what was in that ARNet.
    Tibor walked calmly down the center of the hallway, while William crept along the side.
     Tibor told him with a mind-text.
    Tibor had “borrowed” a mod from his dad’s system that allowed non-verbal communication through a private undetectable channel, at least by the school’s level of security. The neural actuators picked up the shape of their thoughts, converted them into commands, or words, which could be sent across the Digital Sea to be heard in the earpieces at the end of their shades. One advantage of having a father who owned a cryptology company subcontracted to the government.
    William jammed his hands in his pockets and skulked up to Tibor. Strangely, Tibor didn’t feel any of the apprehension that resonated from William.
    When they reached the digitronics lab, the locks on the door melted away as Tibor injected his program. Once inside he pulled the little box out of his backpack and gave it to William.
    As soon as the box was in his friend’s hands, the bunched muscles in his forehead melted away. William set to work immediately.
    It wasn’t long until the cover of the black box lay on its back. William deftly maneuvered through the circuits under the magnifier.
    “Careful, don’t fry that chip,” Tibor said, leaning over William at the lab table as he dissected the innards.
    “You’re crowding me.”
    “Sorry.”
    Tibor paced around the room as if he were an