Broken Trust: Muslim Feint

Book One: Muslim Feint

By

J.D. Dawson

Broken Trust

Book One Muslim Feint

Published by J.D. Dawson at Smashwords

Copyright © 2012 J. D. Dawson

All Rights Reserved.

ISBN 9781301075430

TITLE: Broken Trust – Muslim Feint

AUTHOR: J.D. Dawson

PUBLISHER: Smashwords Inc.

Other Titles by J.D. Dawson

Throne of Storms – Identity Lost

I am pleased to offer an excerpt from Throne of Storms – Identity Lost at the end of this book. Identity Lost is the first installment of the Throne of Storms series. I hope you enjoy it.

Table of Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

Epilogue

Throne of Storms – Identy Lost – Chapter One.

Chapter 1

Screaming … louder … glass breaking … running … light … dark … light. Marcus sat up in bed, his heart pounding. It was a dream. Again. The same dream, or parts of it. Sweat was dripping from his nose. The sheets were wet and pulled from the mattress. He held the pillow tightly in his arms. Why? Why did he have these dreams? For as long as he could remember the dreams had haunted him. He untangled himself from the sheets and swung his feet to the floor. The floor was warm, but hard; it felt anesthetic beneath his feet. Carpet would have felt better he thought to himself. But … his landlord did not believe in carpet, too hard to clean, too dirty he would always say.

He paused, putting his head in his hands. He still did not have the strength to stand and his head was pounding. What time was it? The sun was up. He could see the green tinted light reflecting from the white floor of his bedroom as the sun shined through his sheer green curtains.

The clock read 7:47. It was almost time to get up anyway; his alarm was set for 8:00. The last thing he wanted to hear right now was the screeching of his alarm clock. Better to go ahead and get out of bed. He pulled the sheet from the bed and wiped the sweat off his face, chest, back, and legs; then wadded it up and threw it in the corner with the rest of his dirty clothes. Wash day was Saturday. Today was only Thursday.

His bedroom, like the rest of his apartment, had only the basics in furnishings. The bedroom had a bed and a dresser. His den … a couch, a chair, coffee table and a 90" plasma TV mounted on the wall with a digital stereo underneath it. There are some things that you could skimp on, but not electronics. The floor was a white synthetic marble. The walls were painted green with green curtains. He had heard that surrounding yourself with the color green was soothing. He had hoped that it would help with his dreams. Which it didn't. Nothing had.

Time to get ready. A long cold shower always helped. The colder the better. Marcus stood in the shower with his head against the wall underneath the highest of the three nozzles. He laughed to himself, you would think with three nozzles there would be plenty of water, but with all the water restrictions in place there was hardly enough water to wash. Having pressurized air forced thorough the pipes made it seem like there was more water, but in reality it was mostly air. He often wondered if having to take longer in the shower to get clean actually saved any water at all?

He supposed the increased shower time was at least partially offset in the time and water he saved not having to shave. Eight years ago he had the hair follicles in his face genetically suppressed. No more shaving. He turned off the water and switched on the shower blowers to dry his body. The air came through the water pipes, you just switched the water off and left the air assist on. After they automatically turned off, he stepped out of the shower and onto the floor. The floor was not cold. Most homes and apartments in Seattle had in-floor radiant heating. Much more efficient than other forms of heat and most importantly it kept your feet warm.

Marcus grabbed some clean clothes out of his closet, got dressed and grabbed an energy breakfast bar from the kitchen counter as he headed out the door. He never had been much of a breakfast person. Something fast and easy was what he preferred. The door locked automatically as it closed; there was no need for keys. The door was fully automated and keyed to the identification chip in his hand. You did not need keys for any modern lock including his pride and joy, a classic 2020 Ford Mustang. Green of course. He had to have the car upgraded to accept the chip, chips did not become standard equipment in cars until 2031. Many people still had cars made before 2031 that used keys, but he really enjoyed the convenience of the chip.

The chip did everything. In 2016 the chip was first introduced and was required to participate in the free government run health system. The government said it was the only way to track the program and make it cost effective. The chip stored all your medical information and was used to track your usage of the system. Then in 2020 bank accounts were added to reduce credit and identity theft. In 2022 the chips were tied to global positioning satellites to help stop an increase in global kidnappings and in 2025 the chips began being used for locks and various other devices that previously required keys or combinations. By 2031, the chips were mandatory on all new cars and in 2033 paper and coin money was no longer being printed in most developed countries. It was much easier just to use the chip. It did not take the government long to realize how much cheaper it was to not have to print paper money any more.

Marcus placed his hand on the driver side door of his car, the car beeped once and the door popped open. He sat down and the automated seat comfort control adjusted the seat to his body and moved him into driving position. He placed his hands on the steering wheel and the electric engine began to hum. His car had a 4th generation Z21 electric engine. It was capable of a maximum speed of 120 mph and could maintain that speed for two hours. At a cruising speed of 60 mph, the engine could run for ten hours. During the day, the cars solar cells would recharge the batteries and extend the range of the engine. At night the car could be quick charged at various car power stations in about twenty minutes. A new engine released last year, the MNR2040, has twice range of the Z21 and a maximum speed of 150 mph for two hours. MNR stood for Monroe Industries, the company which held the patent for the engine and the 2040 for the year the patent was issued.

It took about one hour for Marcus to drive from his apartment to work. He worked at Monroe Biological Technologies (MBT) located just outside of Seattle. He was an archeologist for the company. Although he had never been quite sure why they needed an archeologist, he was grateful that they had funded his University studies and now he was under contract to work for them for four years. This was a standard practice, college had become so expensive that very few people could afford to attend. About fifteen years ago, Monroe Industries started a corporate funding program and other companies quickly joined in. It was a great arrangement for the corporations and the universities. The universities filled their classrooms and the corporations chose the best and brightest from the high schools, decided what they would study, sent them to school and then the students had to work out a contract with their corporate sponsor. Marcus was not complaining though, he had always enjoyed history and archeology, plus MBT paid him much better than anyone else would have. He only hoped that after his contract was up at Monroe, that they would renew him indefinitely. There was a long time before that would be an issue, he was only two months into is current contract. So far … all he had done is write reports about the effects of urbanization on South America, the Roman influence on Egypt, and the cultural effects of Alexander the Great on the old world. He could not see why they would continue to pay him to write reports that had been written thousands of times before, not that he was complaining.

Marcus had found that the hour drive to and from work gave him time to think and relax. It had actually been a blessing not living any closer to MBT. Of course driving now was much easier than it was say ten years ago. The government had installed electronic sensors on all the interstates which allowed cars with receivers to drive themselves. All you had to do is set the speed you wished to travel and the destination, then the car does the rest. The car had sensors on all sides that maintained proper distances from other cars. The only thing you had to do after the system was initiated was push a continue button on the dash every five minutes, the last thirty seconds would audibly count down to remind you. This made sure you did not fall asleep while driving and end up at the Canadian border. Of course, that could not really happen since one of the requirements was that you entered the destination before the automated system would engage. But … government safety standards still required you to be awake while driving. If you did not press the continue button, the car slowed and pulled off to the side of the road.

The ride in today was similar to other days. Marcus had noticed over the past couple months that he usually saw the same cars traveling the same directions at the same times day after day. The unknown people in the other cars had in a strange way become his unspoken friends. Today there was a misting rain with a light fog and less traffic than normal. It seems that some of his unspoken friends had taken the day off. A light blue car passed him on the left. It was traveling at a high rate of speed. It was an old car, much older than even Marcus’s. It did not possess the electronic upgrades that his did and based on the exhaust, it probably had a combustion engine. Being something of a car enthusiast, Marcus switched off the automatic drive control and attempted to accelerate and get a better look at the car.

He was able to close to within about fifteen yards of the vehicle before it seemed to notice his pursuit and sped off. The only other thing he was able to notice about the car was its license tag. It was a very old and expired Pennsylvania tag which read ‘EVL0001’. EVIL one it sent a chill down his spine for some reason as the car sped off into the distance. Who would want a license tag that said EVIL one? Marcus was not a religious person, but he also did not believe in taking unnecessary chances.

About fifteen minutes later, Marcus was turning off the interstate onto the exit which led directly to MBT. It was about a five minute drive from the interstate to the MBT complex. It was the most beautiful part of the entire trip. The road was lined with large trees, flowers of all colors and nine foot glass statues of historical figures, such as George Washington, Ronald Reagan, Benjamin Franklin, Werner Von Braun, Abraham Lincoln, Bill Gates, John Hall, Michelle Brown and many others, every thirty yards on both sides of the road. At the main gate there were two twenty foot statues on each side of the entrance. On the left James Monroe, founder of Monroe Computer Technologies, the back bone of Monroe Industries. On the right, Maximillian Monroe, James’ son and the current Vice President of the United States. Maximillian grew and diversified Monroe Industries into the international power that it is now.

After becoming Vice President of the United States, Maximillian passed on control of Monroe Industries to his son Alexander. Alexander was only 35 years old and controlled more wealth than any other person in the world. As president and chief executive officer of Monroe Industries, he was more powerful than any world leader.

As you passed through the gate, the road surface changed from the asphalt of the exit ramp to a black polymer that resembled black marble complete down to the white streaks. It was more expensive than asphalt and much more beautiful. From the gate, the road forked into two directions. To the left was the road to Monroe Biological Technologies and to the right was the road to Monroe Computer Technologies.

Marcus turned to the left and headed to MBT. The road to the parking area was about a mile long. At the end of the road it emptied into the parking complex. The parking complex had the same surface as the road and covered about twenty acres. It was completely covered with a large roof which resembled small glass rolling hills. The roof was transparent, allowing the sunlight to light up the parking area. At night, rows of plasma lights provided even more light than the sun during the day.

Marcus parked his car in his designated parking area and walked to the exit of the parking area. The exit attached to a 300 yard long underground moving sidewalk which took you directly into the lobby of the building. The roof of the underground sidewalk was a three inch piece of plastic polymer with about a half inch of running water on top of it. From the surface, the walk way looked like a river which flowed from the building to the parking area.

The building itself was an architectural wonder. It was twelve stories tall and triangular in shape. All of the outside walls, as well as the first set of interior walls, were glass. It looked almost like you were looking into an ant farm from the outside. The walls could be made opaque when necessary by a series of switches in the security department. The switches ran electric current through the walls and turned them from transparent to opaque, as if by magic, with the flip of a switch.

As Marcus entered the lobby and stepped off the sidewalk, he was just as amazed as he was the first time he entered the building. The floors were black marble with a black marble reception counter directly in front of the exit off of the walkway. Behind the counter were four receptionists all of whom looked as if they could have been sisters. They all had long black hair to about the center of their back. They were slender with knee length black dresses, a white belt, and black shoes. This was their uniform.

Behind them were twelve monitors which monitored the parking area and the perimeter of the building. To the right and left of the walk way, were waiting areas. The waiting areas had black leather chairs and couches. Between the chairs and couches were glass coffee tables and end tables. There were enough seats for over fifty people and from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., they were always at least half full. The ceiling of the lobby was three stories tall with five 100" plasma televisions hanging from the ceiling and angled down toward the lobby for easy viewing. The televisions were used to promote MBT and its products.

Marcus went to the left of the reception counter and placed his hand on the elevator access panel. The building computer system read his chip and opened the door to the elevator. The elevator itself was about twice the size of a normal elevator. Everything the Monroe’s did was the best. Marcus pushed ‘3’, that was the floor his office was on.

The third floor was mainly administrative staff and for now that was where he was tucked away. As the doors began to close, a couple of other people rushed into the elevator. One pushed ‘5’, two others ‘7’, the last person was a friend of his, Tommy Wilkes. Tommy was an accountant, a number cruncher. Tommy had been with the company almost five years; he worked on the same floor with Marcus and had been showing him the ropes.

He listened to the elevator speakers talking about the latest advances in MBT nano-technology. Just before he was hired, MBT had announced a major upgrade with their nano bugs. The upgrade allowed for the permanent placing of bugs in a person’s body. These bugs could be re-tasked by a doctor to treat a variety of illnesses. This was a major advance because earlier bugs were hard coded to treat specific problems; now one set of bugs could be used continually in the body to treat almost any type of problem. Physicians had already started injecting people with the new bugs. Usually about 300,000 per injection with four injections over a period of six months was recommended for healthy people. The bugs relayed data to your chip so your health could be monitored or problems treated remotely. You would only need a booster every couple of years to replace damaged or destroyed bugs.

The doors opened for the third floor. On each floor there was another reception desk and waiting area. There was only one receptionist per floor, but they also looked like a sister of the ones on the main floor. Marcus walked to the security door beside the reception desk and placed his hand on the panel. The computer logged his chip ID and opened the door for him. The walls in this section of the building were black marble matching the floor. He walked past about six offices before he came to his and opened the door. His secretary, Kristin Lynn, was already sitting at her desk. He never really understood why he needed a secretary, no one ever came to see him and all he did was write reports. But … apparently she came with the office.

Kristin was about 5’2" tall, medium build, short blonde hair, and brown eyes. She had one of those friendly personalities that just reached out and pulled you in. She was about 25 years old and unmarried. Although she did have a boyfriend, who in Marcus’s opinion did not treat her very well.

Good morning Kristin, how are you today?

Just fine Mr. Trust. I checked your email this morning. I deleted all the junk and forwarded the rest to your personal folder. Also, Ms. Crowley called from Mr. Preston’s office, she said that you should come up to the executive suite when you arrived.

Mr. Preston was the president of MBT. Marcus had never actually met with him before. He had heard that he was a ruthless businessman with little patience for wasted time or action.

Really … did Ms. Crowley say what the meeting was about?

No, sir. I asked if this had been a scheduled meeting or if you needed to bring anything with you. She said ‘no’, Mr. Preston had come in early this morning and requested to see you first thing. She did tell me that Alexander Monroe was with Mr. Preston when he asked for you.

Alexander Monroe! I haven’t been here long enough to do anything so bad that both Mr. Preston and Mr. Monroe would need to see me. …. have I?

Kristin laughed in a way that made Marcus feel amused and a little embarrassed, "No sir. I don’t think so. But … you had better not keep them waiting.

Good point. Well, wish me luck. Marcus smiled and turned to leave.

Wait!, Kristin picked up a card from her desk. You will need this to access the twelfth floor from the elevator. Ms. Crowley sent it down for you

Thank you. Well … I will see you in a little while. I hope? he said with a smile, Kristin just shook her head and smiled back.

Marcus headed out the door and back down the hall to the elevator. He could not help but wonder why Alexander Monroe was here and wanted to see him. What possible interest could he have in him? Or what had he done wrong, he was joking when he said it to Kristin, but there had to be some reason both Mr. Preston and Mr. Monroe wanted him. He could not think of anything he had done. Maybe that was it, he had been doing nothing. Maybe Mr. Preston and Mr. Monroe were going to fire him for not doing enough – no that did not make any sense. He was not important enough even for Mr. Preston to fire him let alone Mr. Monroe. He had done everything they had asked. It wasn’t his fault. What could an archeologist do at a bio-technology company anyway?

When he got in the Elevator, he pressed ‘12’. The elevator promptly responded. Mr. Trust, you are not authorized for access to the executive level. Please select another floor or insert your access card. He inserted his access card into the slot and the computer confirmed his access to the executive level. It did not however, return his card. Apparently this was a onetime access card. When the doors opened to the 12th floor, Marcus stepped out and walked to the reception desk. This floor was similar to all the others, the only major difference were the armed security guards and there were three receptionists. These receptionists looked similar to the others except they wore white dresses with back belts and white shoes. Exact opposites. It was interesting, but only the most important people who made it to the executive floor would ever notice.

As Marcus approached the desk, one of the women said, Mr. Trust, Ms. Crowley has asked that I escort you back. Please follow me. The woman stepped out from behind the desk and opened the door leading out of the reception area and going back to the executive offices. Marcus followed her straight down the hall to another reception area. This area in contrast to the rest of the building used white marble for the floors and reception counter instead of black. It also had a large glass domed ceiling.

There an older woman sat behind the desk. She was a very attractive lady of perhaps fifty. Her hair was graying slightly, but you could still see the original black coloring. She was similar in size to the other, younger receptionists in the building and seemed to be only an older version of them. Someone had obviously gone to a lot of effort for uniformity. The woman looked up at the receptionist from the front desk and said, Thank you, you can go back to your desk. I will take care of Mr. Trust from here on. The first receptionist nodded, turned, and headed back to her post.

Mr. Trust, please be seated. They will be with you momentarily., said Ms. Crowley

Thank you, was all Marcus could say as he took a seat and waited to be called back. The furniture here was very nice. Real wood, which was very expensive. Most people used synthetic polymers which resembled real wood. The best of them even felt like wood. The chairs and small couches here were covered with black leather. All of them were overstuffed for comfort. Marcus waited for maybe fifteen minutes before one of the office doors opened. It was Mr. Preston, the President of MBT.

Marcus stood and walked over to meet Mr. Preston half way across the room, Mr. Preston, Marcus said as he extended his hand, it is a pleasure to meet you. I had hoped I would have an opportunity to meet you.

Mr. Preston extended his hand to Marcus, Yes, Mr. Trust, I am sure you have. Unfortunately, I have very little time to meet with all of employees. Please come with me, Mr. Monroe has less time to waste than I do. Do not speak unless spoken to, you are here to listen and answer specific questions when and if asked. Do you understand?

Yes sir, Marcus mumbled. Not quite sure how to take this initial meeting with Mr. Preston and now even more worried about this impromptu meeting.

They walked back toward the door Mr. Preston had come out of. It was not his office; his office based on the name plates on the doors, was to the right. This office was Alexander Monroe’s when he was at MBT. As they entered, Marcus was taken aback by the beauty of the office. Marcus estimated that the office was probably