Bonds

Jordan Bell sat back in his chair and opened up the morning’s paper, the fresh ink rubbing off on his fingers. He read the story above the fold and slammed it on the table.

“Hah! Those monsters finally got their just deserts. Going to hang ‘em this weekend.”

His wife, Melanie, brought over a plate of eggs and looked at the picture. “I don’t think we should revel in the deaths of others, Jordan. Even that group.”

“They ruined everything, Melanie! Everything. Altman, Zuckerberg, and especially that weird Musk guy. Never liked that guy.”

“Really, who was on the waiting list for a Cybertruck before everything went to hell?”

“Shhhh, Melanie, don’t say that out loud.”

“Why? Alexa and Siri offed themselves with all the other AIs.”

“There were listening devices around long before we paid to have them in our homes.”

“Like anyone really cares what you or I have to say, Jordan. Even your constituents don't really listen to you.”

Jordan opened the paper up and lifted it, covering his face. "That's not a very nice thing to say."

“Hey, was Bezos in that crew? No? How’d he get away?” Melanie asked.

“He owned enough papers and still had enough money when the world’s screens went dark to get people on his side. Musk lost pretty much everything. And just look at him; he looks like he should hang.”

“Oh, stop trying to pretend you didn’t have a hard-on for him when he was swinging his chainsaw around.”

“Goddamnit, Melanie, please stop bringing that up,” Jordan whispered. Speaking up, “I’m rehabilitated.“

Carrie, their sixteen-year-old daughter, came down the stairs. She saw the paper in her dad’s hands and started searching the table, pushing it out of the way.

“Where’s my ‘zines? Any of them?”

“Your what?”

“My ‘zines, Dad, god. I should have gotten at least one by today.  Selena’s newsletter, any of the Kardashians- they should be here by now.”

“Why you pay for those, I do not get.”

“How else am I going to know what’s going on in their lives? They only send out their stories once a month. It’s got pictures from events they attended, their daily thoughts...”

“Like, those are really worth paying your hard-earned money for.”

She shook his newspaper in his face. “I thought this was fake news?”

“I will have you know that the New York Times is a well-researched paper. “

She picked out another paper from the recycling. The Fox News Enquirer. “And this one?”

“I don’t read the articles. I like the Page Six girls.”

Both the women in his life knew he was lying. He avoided their eyes, flipping to the sports section.

“Oh, look, people are playing games. Some of them won.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. The family all turned to the door. Melanie dried her hands and headed to the door. Jordan stood up and headed toward the back door. As Melanie opened the door, a posse of men in suits and FBI windbreakers spilled into the living room. Jordan opened the back door only to find a towering mountain of a man straightening his tie with ham-sized hands. A warning of what he could do to Jordan’s neck.

“Senator Bell, I’m Agent Cleary. We have a warrant for your arrest.”

Melanie cried out, “Jordan! What is all this?”

“I, uh, I don’t know!” he shrugged. “Uh, how dare you, uh, barge into my house!”

“Senator Bell, you are under arrest for illegal promotion of AI and Crypto companies prior to the Collapse.”

“I didn’t do anything more than any other citizen.”

“We have information that you shepherded government contracts to AI companies and crypto exchanges. Right after you bought, or were gifted, their stock. It also shows you used insider information to get out of those companies right before the Collapse. “

“How can you know that? Our texts, our emails, they’re all gone.

“We have a witness.”

“Who? I demand their name.”

“Senator, these are considered terrorist actions. You should know that. You voted for the measure.”

Jordan decided it was time to act as you do with a wild black bear. Make some noise. He got up in Agent Cleary’s face. “You have no proof! I will have your badge for this! I am a United States Senator, and you will treat me with the respect my office deserves!”

Agent Cleary let the senator yell himself out and then quietly said, “You will get the exact amount of respect you deserve when you swing with all the rest of the AI con-men and proselytizers. Take him away.”

A couple of the other agents grabbed him by the arms and marched him toward the door. Agent Cleary followed behind. As they stuck him in the back of an SUV, Cleary got a call. He flipped open his Nokia.

“Yes, Director, we have him and are executing the warrant now. Yes, sir, thank you, sir.”

He put away the phone and pulled out a BlackBerry. He sent one quick text. “Done.”

Agent Cleary leaned in before they closed the door. He pulled out a folded copy of the Washington Post from inside his jacket.  He tossed it in the Senator’s lap. The picture above the fold showed Jeff Bezos meeting with the President for some new initiative.

“I find men with a lot of money have a long memory for the people who put up roadblocks to their hopes and dreams. Looks like you backed the wrong space jockey back in the day. Senator.”

As the car drove away, he saw Melanie standing out front, her arm around her daughter’s shoulder. He started to head back towards the house, and she sent Carrie to her room to pack an overnight bag.  She looked at the agents ransacking her home, trekking in and out of the house with boxes of paperwork, and even her daughter’s laptop.

“What are we supposed to do?” she asked.

“Just let them execute the warrant. It will all be over soon.”

“Do you have enough?”

“Yes. You gave us plenty.”

“Good. And our deal?”

“Signed by all interested parties. You and your daughter will be well taken care of. And your husband’s….end will be buried well below the fold.”

Melanie looked down the street as the SUV holding her husband turned the corner. “Always told that man the tech bubble would burst. Bonds. The bonds between people. That’s what you have to invest in. Do give Jeff my best, will you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I think Carrie and I will head out to the cabin until this all blows over. She doesn’t need to see the papers until after everything is…executed. Thank god no one can post anymore. Oh, that reminds me, could you do me a favor?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Please check into my daughter’s 'zines and have them forwarded. Nothing comforts like the eccentricities of the rich and famous.”