Safety and security of millions of users depended on Evan. It was little different from his military service. Evan entered the building. His mobile device emitted an alert as each door recognized Evan's security level, confirming identity with an imperceptible flicker over his retina. Scans had greatly improved over the past four years, allowing more expedient ingress and egress during emergency situations.

“Evan.” The receptionist seated in the security offices lobby leaned over her desk. “Are we still on for lunch this afternoon? I booked a booth at that new cafe off Central.”

Evan responded with a quick tilt of his head and little more than a brief pause to his step. The receptionist rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the infrared keyboard illuminating the stark surface of the desk.

Evan wove within the lab-like maze of cubicles lining the security floor of ITower’s GlobeNet offices. He passed busy cube workers chattering via headset to customers across the United States and the world. Physical boundary lines meant little in the age of ITower’s Infostrada empire.

He caught snips of complaints and client requests, ignoring names and unimportant personal data. He could gauge his day by clips of half-heard conversation.

In terms of global control of big data and the Cloud in the Infostrada war ITower had won, but in so many ways, Evan and others like him were still fighting. The industrial revolution drove humanity into an era of mass construction, movement, and expansion in the physical reaches of the globe. The digital age had created a new space to explore and control, a new era more akin to the golden age of exploration and colonization.

ITower controlled all cloud access and the data stored therein, yet a constant battle of code, passwords, biometrics, and grid maintenance was required to retain a seat of power.

Few employees raised their heads from the business of consulting GlobeNet clients to notice to Evan, and fewer still enjoyed making eye contact with the young man.

Evan remained a soldier, albeit a far more well-paid one in the private sector. Hired gun might be a more suitable title.

Evan's reputation for being less than friendly to cube rats was far reaching. Dealing in office politics was not in his job description since moving down the hall, and into deeper levels of Infostrada security.

A light above the keyless entry handle framed the door to Evan’s office in a faint glow. It blinked green as Evan approached, activating the inner circuitry of magnetic locking mechanisms. Passing the couch against the wall, Evan allowed the door to close and latch behind him. He strode into the sparsely decorated space and glanced through the glass door to ensure the light had returned to it’s previous red glow.

He tossed his jacket onto the dark leather couch. The windowed wall across the room overlooked the sprawl of the desert city. Adjacent, a nearly wall sized LCD screen rotated a multitude of certificates, awards, video clips of presentation ceremonies, and event photos, a constant reminder of how far Evan had come since military dismissal.

It meant nothing.

Propping his mobile device into the docking station at the corner of his desk, and his body into the plush seat of his chair, Evan sighed at the enveloping silence of the office.

“Video screen, image night lights.” Evan ordered.

The rotation of honors flickered to a cityscape at night, complete with lights and passage of time demonstrated by subtle changes.

“Smart glass, transparency zero. Color grey.” As the words left Evan’s lips the large window became opaque and the glass shifted to match the walls of the office.

Had anyone entered without prior knowledge of the layout of the room, or time of day, one might think Evan was working late into the night.

The lighting within the office adjusted to appropriate brightness ideal for working. Evan sighed into his chair and tapped the keyboard in front of him. He still enjoyed the haptic response of an analog keypad. The large screens mounted to the desk blinked to life. Data streamed over one to the right while a series of tabs revealed e-mail messages, open websites, a digital calendar, and a feed of the latest news.

Within the square of open programs, the left screen centered a small frame to reveal a man’s face, blocking Evan’s view of sites and applications behind it.

“Mr. Gabriel.” The audio on the computer popped to life. “Building data says you arrived only fifteen minutes ago. I hope you are late for a decent reason this time.”

Evan smiled cordially at the man on the screen. “My mother called, sir.”

The man’s image nodded. “Right then. Not a problem, Evan. But what have I told you about calling me sir?”

“This is not the military.” Evan nearly saluted the man who was, for all intents and purposes, his superior officer.

“Calling me sir makes me feel like an old man, and I don’t need any further notes on that file.” The man laughed.

Evan held a vacant professional smile on his face as he waited for his boss to continue.

“Ahem.” The man in the chat composed himself. “Have you been updated on the current state of the outages?”

Evan allowed his smile to fade, grateful to shift the topic to business rather than foolish small talk. “I was about to check stats and media reports on the issues when you called, s─Mr. Marshal.”

“Good. I will leave you to it.” Mr. Marshal coughed. “Contact me as soon as you have a grasp on the extent of the damage; technically speaking as well as on the public relations machine.”

“Will do.” Evan dismissed the man with a salute-turned-curt wave.

Mr. Marshal returned the gesture before the chat window dropped from view.

Evan confirmed audio as well as video link had been severed before sighing at the stress of the interaction. He replaced the cardboard squares over the cameras. Some of the old tricks Uncle Fred taught him still had uses. The authority of the man wasn’t offensive to Evan─no matter what Mr. Rod Marshal thought his rank was within the company, Evan held the real power. He and his team did the groundwork. It was a solid gig no matter what the big guys in the boardroom tossed around.

Evan tapped the keyboard and brought up the news feed. A wave of tempered concern flowed through him as he scanned the morning list of files and links including outage reports, security leaks, and assumptions of terrorist activity. Marshal had been correct, the media misinformation machine was in full cog-buckling mode, freaking out the ill-educated masses.

It had been the same for the entire era of GlobeNet's take over. Once all information and networking shifted into a global array, people with less understanding of how their old cellular phones worked began spewing conspiracy. No one understood the power and freedom of complete connection to all networks.

Stronger signals, increased bandwidth, the potential decrease in overall cost, including security, networking, and service from the bottom up.

It wasn't about monopoly--financial or political. The Global Network was a tool for the world to harness together.

Evan’s anxiety piqued, however, as he clicked a site focused on the inner workings of tech industry. A site Evan himself subscribed to, primarily because it wasn't known for hype and circumspection rallied by weak sources.

He scanned the text, absorbing the first few lines of information. He expanded the link with a click to the full article.

Outages linked to breakdown of cellular signal and process. Are the rules of cellular communication changing? Numerous public health concerns due to extensive exposure to cellular frequencies may require a shift to safer communication transfer. As the reliability of safety also comes under fire with the latest attacks by the group calling themselves Wave7, many seek a new answer.

Evan chewed the cuticle of his thumb. This site's discussion of system breakdown might actually signal a threat to job security.

Worse, another war between ITower, world governments, and hacker gangs like this Wave7, over the rights to data and connections.

Evan minimized the articles and info sheets and tapped a new video chat command connection.

When the window opened, Evan was surprised to see Mr. Marshal was not alone.

“Mr. Gabriel.” Mr. Marshal’s tone was nowhere near as jovial as the earlier meeting. “I trust you read through most of the information sent to you this morning.”

“I have.” Evan swallowed the lump growing in his throat.

The profiled faces filling the board room were cut off by the edges of the screen, yet Evan could tell none appeared to be particularly pleased.

“The issue with cellular frequency.” Evan almost hesitated to ask, though it weighed the back of his mind. “Has any of this information been substantiated by our more reputable sources?”

“The last article by the journal was not reputable enough for you, Mr. Gabriel?” Mr. Marshal’s tone took on a special tenor in the presence of the GlobeNet board of directors.

“Of course. I'm not certain what it means to my position.” Evan dared to allow his voice to match his superior’s. “A frequency glitch is not something security is set up to handle. Ultimately, the level of fallout is the responsibility of networking and signal representatives at ITower main station.”

“Mr. Gabriel, if you are suggesting the issue is not something your team can handle, the board is in a position to question the reach of your security team. As well as your position in it.”

Evan sensed a rapid decline into a serious case of scapegoating with him as the goat.

“Not at all, sir.” Evan didn't bother to correct the title. “I am simply saying as we work on the problem on this side, it may be advisable to take a step across the way to consider where our partners in the Ivory Tower are standing.”

Evan hadn't realized he had dropped the pet name of the superior company until a new face replaced Mr. Marshal’s on the screen.

“Mr. Gabriel.” An older gentleman--and gentleman would be the best descriptor for the well-coiffed, white-haired man. “If you have some idea of what those of us in our Ivory Tower might do, we are open to suggestions, but save sarcasm and petty remarks for those at Mr. Marshal’s clearance level. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Evan knew a military man by the tone. There was no doubt this weathered face was more than a line-man in his day.

A man in his position today would not have been a fool before the GlobeNet era. His demeanor was nimble-minded tech buff, with more than a dash of sharp-edged soldier.

“We will be sending a higher level clearance packet shortly. Despite your youthful missteps, the ITower board feels you might have potential to save GlobeNet from complete collapse. Mind you, failure is not an option. In case you were unclear.”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.” Evan’s breath caught with every word as he struggled to push through the remainder of his final military mission.

The video chat cut without so much as a flicker back to Mr. Marshal. Evan didn't bother to check the audio feed. He rose from his chair and paced. His arms arced over his head in an attempt to open his breathing and squelch the waves of anxiety gripping every heartbeat.

“Damned Ivory Tower thugs.” Evan coughed. “I'd rather be back on the front lines.”

Evan knew the lie in his words, it wasn't the point. He dropped onto the couch and drew his jacket toward him. He rifled the pockets for the blister pack of yellow pills.

He sneered at the small round pill before firing it into his mouth and swallowing. Pride went down with it. Authority figures never bothered him before. Even in the military, he never balked at a barking drill sergeant.

The communication van incident changed everything.

It was not merely the loss of Linc that shifted his emotions and reactions. People, being around them, felt different. Evan shook off thoughts of Linc and the past. He needed to focus on the issue at hand. This new war was sparking. He would need to tap into his old self to get through it.

Evan summoned the receptionist from the front desk through the video chat. Her bright eyes and bubbly smile appeared on the screen.

“Hey there.” Evan plastered a smile across his face as he greeted the young brunette. Her name escaped his memory.

“Hey there, yourself,” she bubbled. “Did you decide on lunch? Or, I mean, is there anything I can assist you with Mr. Gabriel?”

“That’s sort of what I am calling about.” Evan feigned a frown. “I am going to have to rain check on our lunch. Casualty of this mess we're in up here in security.”

The woman’s pout was genuine enough to cause Evan to stir. “Oh poo. Well, I guess if it’s for the security of the company and nonsense. We both need to keep our jobs, after all.” She paused in her thoughts. “If I see you waltz out of here at noon with some other woman on your arm, your rain check is so cancelled. I remember what you did to me last time, Evan Gabriel.”

“No lies this time. They got me working to the bone on this one. In fact, I would love a special delivery around the hour of lunch, if you feel so inclined to make a quick drop off.”

“Whatever, Evan. Text me your order.” Her tone was terse, but Evan knew she would come through on delivery of a quick snack if nothing else.

“Damn it.” Evan rubbed his eyes for the hundredth time in the last hour.

There was little accomplished through the streaming data on the screen. Though the untouched lunch bag and stacks of error messages popping across the windows should have meant otherwise.

Tapping screens to shut down systems wasn't the therapeutic action Evan needed after this day. He wanted nothing more than to punch the streams of data and code.

"Begin close of day save protocol." Evan commanded the computer. "Dim lights. Initiate."