Chapter 4 - The Live Feed Collapse
The outdoor terminal screen flickered, switching automatically from the corporate security loop to a live news broadcast of the Interstate 95 suspension bridge. On the high-definition display, the massive steel cables supporting the six-lane span were visibly twisting like wet noodles under a sudden, inexplicable torque. Commuter cars swerved and crashed into guardrails as the asphalt buckled upward in jagged, explosive waves.
Arthur stared at the screen, his chest tightening. The collapse was happening precisely as Julian had predicted seconds before.
“Cut the feed!” Marcus yelled, lunging toward the security console beneath the canopy. “If the public connects the bridge resonance frequency to the biometric readings we pulled from the boy this morning, the Senate committee will seize the entire facility by noon!”
“Too late, Marcus,” Alistair said, his voice chillingly calm as he leaned on his obsidian cane. He didn't even bother looking at the monitor; his piercing blue eyes remained fixed on Arthur. “The telemetry data from Julian’s morning intake was already synced to the Department of Defense mainframe three minutes ago. The algorithm didn't just predict the collapse—it recorded the exact seismic wave signature that your son generated with his voice.”
Arthur turned slowly, his dark suit jacket rustling as he faced his father. The fury burning in his chest had crystallized into a cold, lethal focus.
“You used my son as a human tuning fork,” Arthur said, his voice dropping into a register so quiet and deadly that even the idling engine of the black sedan seemed to muffle itself. “You tested a structural weapon on a public bridge just to prove his cognitive output.”
“We tested nothing,” Alistair snapped back, his posture stiffening as his patience wore thin. “The boy’s biology is unstable. He is a walking singularity. Every time he speaks of a future event, reality adjusts itself to make it happen. The bridge was scheduled to fail in November due to rusted gusset plates; Julian’s voice simply accelerated the timeline by six months. He is breaking causality, Arthur!”
“He’s a little boy who wanted a piece of toast!” Arthur shouted, finally breaking his composure as Julian began to cry again, burying his wet face into Arthur’s chest.
Clara slumped against the gold luggage cart, tears streaming down her makeup-stained cheeks. She looked at Alistair with wide, terrified eyes.
“Director Vance, you promised me the containment protocol was non-invasive,” Clara sobbed, her beige pantsuit stained with dust and sweat. “You said we were just stabilizing his neural pathways so he could live a normal life inside the compound!”
“Normal life?” Alistair scoffed, a dark smile touching the corners of his thin lips. “There is no normal life for someone who can collapse a suspension bridge with a nursery rhyme. And now that the federal algorithms have locked onto his bio-signature, every intelligence agency from Langley to Geneva is tracking this exact location.”
Alistair turned his gaze back to Arthur, gesturing with his cane toward the black sedan.
“Put the boy in the back seat, Arthur. We are taking him to the deep-sublevel bunker beneath the corporate headquarters. It’s the only Faraday-shielded vault strong enough to suppress his voice before he talks the entire eastern seaboard into a blackout.”
Arthur didn't move. He stood like a statue under the concrete canopy, holding his son tightly against his chest while his hand slipped quietly into the pocket of his wool coat, closing around the cold, metallic grip of a heavy security keycard.
“I’m not taking him anywhere near your bunkers,” Arthur whispered.
May you like
Before Alistair could signal his guards, Arthur spun around and threw himself backward through the shattering glass doors of the terminal lobby.
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