Simon's hardware wallet beeped, jarring him from his latest daydream and bringing him back to reality on that hard bench outside the Hackensack Light Rail Terminal in New Jersey.
another .25 btc, not bad. Thanks for all the wool, sheep.
His hardware wallet was a Satchel Graphene Pro but everyone just called it a Satchel, or 'Satch'. It was an advanced model that was capable of on-the-fly conversions to a host of other cryptos, as well as VISAX credits. The entire device fit in a flexible band and was usually worn around the wrist though in truth it could be wrapped around a bicep, or even a calf. It depended on how much you wanted to hide it. Its design prevented detection by wands and all but the most sophisticated TSA scanners but it was still vulnerable to physical detection.
A variety of sell orders on multiple exchanges and peer to peer networks slowly whittled away at a significant amount of his XRP, and the beeps from his Satch alerted him each time the market price cross certain thresholds and sold.
Since ripple gateways had begun popping up like weeds, the XRP tokens he'd hoarded over the last two years was now a tax free, active revenue stream that he tapped regularly. And with bitcoin currently at an all time high of 13,550 USC, or United States Credits, a quarter of a bitcoin was quite valuable. However, Simon only traded bits of Bitcoin into USC when he needed to infiltrate the normies, as he was doing now.
Extraction, not desire, had required the use of the fiat credits.
He never used them in his own name in any trackable manner, since he understood that US Credits were inherently designed to provide information to a centralized authority, for any use deemed necessary.
He'd only come to this side of The Divide to extract a list of people, per contract from The Chain. Anna was the last one on that list, so he would be accompanying her once he verbally identified her, prepped her and set her on her way. She'd have the best chance of making it to the extraction point alone, as a well to do North Jersey red-blooded American. A dark bundle next to him housed the items that would transform this woman's appearance, and life, and help her slip away through The Divide. When all went well, of course.
The homeless girl who sat down on the bench next to him wore a faded gray hooded sweatshirt and denim that, if not for her unfortunate circumstance, might have been mistaken for a new pair of over-priced dirt-washed Nordstem's jeans. After all, impov-chic was en vogue among the affluent. Her hair seemed to fare better than the rest of her and washed over her shoulders in an auburn hue that reminded Simon of early October in Bergen County, before the bombs.
Simon spoke to the young woman without turning his head, "Do you know how to get to Leonia High School?" The girl hesitated, eyes as wide as those of a hypnotized doe in highway headlights.
Maybe it's not her. It's only five past noon, she could just be late.
"I... I, I'm sorry, I don't know. I'm... do you know how to get to Teteroboro Airport?"
Gotcha
"Hello Anna, it's nice to meet you. We don't have much time, so I will have to insist you listen and listen carefully while there is still no one around us. This bench is a blindspot for the local cameras, they can't see us right now. But there are listening devices, too, though we are out of earshot as long as we keep our voices down, okay?
Anna nodded in small jerks of her head and remained silent, hands in her lap.
"Great, Anna. Listen, this is going to be hard but it's doable. It took courage to reach out and there's only a little more to go before you can choose to be away from this place forever. When I stand up, I will leave this bag behind on the bench. Take it, and go to the bathroom. Use the last bathroom on the right, and do try to keep your face away from any cameras. There are scented wipes and a change of clothes, as well as a new set of Idents that should cover you if you're stopped. The Satch in there is loaded with crypto that should cover you, VISAX credits and USC has been disabled so avoid those merchants if they only take those."
Simon watched her shudder and could feel her dread like a thick fog, could smell the fear rolling off Anna.
"Don't worry, the Idents are a precaution. If this goes right, you shouldn't have to show them at all. Still, keep them because they may come in handy later, if you choose."
That seemed to have calmed her down and she was nodding again, expressing that she understood his instruction so far.
"Once you've changed, walk over to the Bus Terminal and take the 156 Express to Edgewater. Get off at Russell Place and River Road and head south until you see a large set of black gates, just past Russell Place. It's an Indian Burial Ground but you're looking for an entrance to the residential structure next door. It's in the back of the cemetery in the corner. Say it back for me, yeah?"
Her voice was small, but it was surprisingly steady. "156 to Edgewater. Russell Place and River Road. South to the Black Gates, through the cemetery, back corner into the residential structure."
They don't normally get it so quick. She's sharp
He went on "Perfect, perfect. Now Anna, when you get inside the residential garage there will be a vehicle waiting. A white sedan will take you from there and hopefully onward to The Chain. Do you understand everything I have said to you so far?"
Another quiet, quick nod.
"There is a mobile device in there, set up to mimic a consumer mobile phone but it isn't. It's a secure phone running an open-sourced OS. The normie web is disabled so we'll be using it to make sure everything goes okay, okay? When this phone rings, you must say 'Hey Mom! What's up?'. I will ask you how your trip went, and if you feel you are in danger, please say 'Oh, I wish. I would love a coffee!'. If you are safe and on your way, please say 'Aw, I love you, too. Tell Dad I say Hi'. This is very important, Anna, do you understand."
"Yes."
"Good. I should see you again in about 24 hours when all goes well. See ya on The Chain, Anna."
With that, Simon stood up and walked away, leaving a compact dark bag behind.
Anna slowly counted mississippi's and inched her body closer to the bag. In it was freedom, and she both longed for and feared that very freedom. Her desire for it was clearly winning and, when she had waited long enough she thought her lungs would burst, she grabbed the bag and kept her head down and her faced covered by bushels of auburn hair, making her way to the far bathroom furthest from any camera's watchful eye.
In the small dark bag that Simon had given her she found a Satch that contained an unknown amount, a pale pink blouse with simple half sleeves, a package of large scented wipes, and a bundle of Identity papers.
The first thing Anna did was fix the Satch as high up on her arm, and as far out of sight, as it could go.
Freedom tastes like hope, or destruction. It's all in the dose.
Images sourced from Pixabay.com
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