Free The Origin Point: A Future Tech Cyber Novella by Case Lane

in the country. The camera's feed
would upload directly to the COSA database, 24 hours a day. The
government was preparing to encourage every jurisdiction, business,
school, and public place to voluntarily insert a wireless
transmitter into every camera to send images to a local server farm
connected to COSA. Or alternatively, legislation could be
introduced to ensure every surveillance camera sold or used in the
U.S. was pre-equipped with technology designed to automatically
turn on the transmitter when the camera was connected. 'That
approach would capture consumer surveillance cameras at people's
homes,' Apex thought. 'I wonder what the public would think of
that.' As she considered another column, she heard a faint knock on
the door.
    Her apartment was located in a non-descript
low-rise a few blocks from the columned 18th century buildings on
the postcard-perfect campus of the University of Maryland in
College Park. Living within a catchment area for 38,000 students,
Apex accessed project supplies, computer hardware, coffee and
pizza, with little notice. Diverse college towns were favored
residential locations for independent technologists. The bustling
attraction of a multi-hued populace wearing all manner of clothing
from business suits to shorts and flip-flops; with hair styles
capable of catching tight spikes in tree branches or qualifying for
military service; and food ranging from extracted anti-allergy air
to stuffed rolled animal-style animals, provided a background upon
which any free human could throw a tapestry of pursuits and engage
with many or remain alone. Less than nine miles from downtown D.C.,
the town provided Apex with her safe haven away from a location
where everyone was considered suspicious.
    Opening the door she smiled in surprise.
"You are here," Apex greeted her visitor as she moved aside to let
him in.
    Carter Harden stepped into the apartment
with the straight-backed intention reflecting his multi-billion
dollar net worth. "Well, sounded like you were nervous," Carter
responded with a smile. "And I don't like when my favorite people
get scared."
    Apex stepped towards him, took his face in
her hands and kissed him full on the lips. "Or your wife," she
commented, returning his smile.
    He kissed her back. "Or my wife," he agreed.
"What's going on?" Carter demanded as he moved further into the
room and walked towards the couch as if he had just come home from
his workday. Apex glanced at him with uncontrolled admiration.
    Carter had been born to a single mother who
never left her father's wheat farm near Minot, North Dakota. The
family's daily meals were derived mostly from their own production
and any extra purchased with money earned from sporadic outside
work. Attending all of his local schools, working at service
industry jobs, and tinkering with computer code were the only
activities permitted to Carter. But the constraint of low
expectations was not accessible to his DNA. Six months after
graduating from high school, he decided the thoughts in his brain
trying to determine how to attend college, start his own business
and operate with thinking people, were not useless dreams as
everyone around him preferred to proclaim. Knowing if he did not
leave his insular prairie town, he was in danger of succumbing to
its beer drinking, beaten down shooting Sundays, he packed a
backpack, walked through the winter snow to the Greyhound bus
station, and boarded the first connection heading west towards
California.
    Settling in Palo Alto near Stanford
University, he found a bed to rent in a house full of computer
science students, and took two jobs serving burgers and fries
during the day and mopping floors at night. In his spare time,
Carter challenged his roommates over their homework until one of
the students dragged him to see a professor who tested him,
marveled at his scores, and worked with admissions to allow him to
enroll in classes on a work-study scholarship. From inside a
classroom, surrounded