“It’s good to see you back in the saddle, Fred.”

Fred rotated in his office chair to see a young woman with a mailroom cart blocking the entrance to his cubicle.

“Thank you.” Fred frowned at the disheveled stack of envelopes and file folders. “What’s all this?”

“Afternoon message run, and packet distribution.” The woman flipped through the stacks. “Better known as my midmorning tour of the campus.”

Fred’s attention turned from the young woman as he flipped through the envelopes.

“You are looking pretty good.” She winked as she handed over yet another stack of folders and letters. “That little vacation did wonders.”

“It was mandatory.” Fred frowned. “I would’ve been back sooner had they allowed me to be.”

“Oh.” The woman shrugged. “Well, you may need a real vacation soon. It’s like a war around here. Everyone has their boxers in a twist.”

“I’m a new man, ready to bail you young slackers out of this little mess.” Fred nodded.

The woman waved off his statement and continued through the cubicle maze.

Fred turned his attention to the dusty early 2000’s desktop computer in his office space. The chair wheel hung up on a wire as Fred rolled closer to the desk.

“Crap.” Fred shifted and lifted the chair.

He tracked carefully toward the desk. “Maybe this is a little different than before the crash. A bit more like the old days than I would like to admit.”

Fred adjusted the cascade of wires across his desk. He checked connections between tower and screen, wiggled the tail protruding from the keyboard, and adjusted the wired mouse on the pad. Use of the Cloud had not been limited to data transfer. Everything wireless was forced to rely on hard line connection to avoid strain on the already unstable bandwidth of the data stream.

Fred scowled as he ran his fingers through his hair. The building had maintained a backup infrastructure. There were enough wired devices in storage, it appeared. Somewhere, he was certain, there was a warehouse of rotary phones.

Fred depressed the switch on the face of the tower and waited for the machine to boot up. He sighed as he heard the shriek of the connection. Things were indeed different, but at least he was linked in. There was comfort to the familiar hum of electronics and the bright white of a Cloud-connected screen.

“Takes me back to college.” Fred muttered as the screens connected to the computer tower blinked to life.

He settled in as loading screens abated and a familiar desktop image appeared. He set his fingers flying across the keyboard. It was strange to feel the haptic feedback of solid keys beneath his fingers.

Windows of code filled the screen. Fred’s eyes flitted across the alphanumeric strings as he deciphered incoming errors and messages. ITower was a mess.

Wired connections seemed to be functioning, yet wireless cellular connectivity was a mystery. It appeared to be a hardware issue. Yet, that made sense only if the disease of the data stream infected only certain devices.

Fred removed his glasses a moment. He rubbed his weary eyes.  Returning his glasses on the bridge of his nose, he stared at the cluttered screen. His eyes wandered to the icon tray. He slid the mouse and the cursor hovered over the browser icon.

He clicked.

The window appeared to be a typical information center start page. The difference, information center connections contained locks and nanny-bot programs. It was like working in a small, cramped cage with the whole of the data stores on the outside.

Combined with the time limits, navigation was nearly impossible.

Fred typed his search terms into the text box. He was greeted with more than a million returns, a reaction much more akin to what he was used to.

Fred slapped the desk in his excitement, and instantly hoped no one in the surrounding cubicles had heard the report.

He considered the tidbits of information offered by the owner of the whimsical little shop. He wandered into her world a few days ago, yet since then, Fred’s mind filled with new ideas and questions. Attending the support groups offered at the store were not nearly enough to quench Fred’s knowledge-starved mind. His hunger for more data was never satisfied with a mere morsel. Fred sought the buffet of understanding.   

He opened several tabs as he read the headlines of links listed on the screen.

Near Death Experiences: Signs and Related Consequences; Astral Travel and the Near Death Experience; International Association for Near Death Studies; Reliable sources of Near Death and the Afterlife; Share Near Death Experiences with Others. The list was more than Fred could have hoped.

Fred opened the last link. After a moment of allowing data to load, he realized it was a chat system. There appeared to be several members. A key along the left side of the page displayed a live list of members currently signed on.

Fred hastily created an account.

He awaited the registration message and was shocked at the speed of the response. Even ITower interoffice messages were slower on the vintage wired systems.

It took longer for Fred to choose a catchy handle than for the confirmation to go through. The site must have been on a well-connected server or had minimal data.

Fred, using the handle Cloud Master, opened a thread on near death experiences. Many in-depth answers had been entered by a user under the name Coach333.

Fred noted the little green dot hovering beside the name, indicating the user was currently available. Fred clicked Coach333’s highlighted link. He was surprised when a live chat opened. This site offered a lot compared to others. Since  the crash, most had given up live chat due to the burden placed on data connections. Even basic text transfer lagged pages, leaving communicating parties frustrated and confused by buffered dialogue exchanges. Audio and video were a lost cause.

Fred typed a short greeting and introduced himself as one who had recently experienced near-death.

CLOUD MASTER: I have a few questions.            

His user title Cloud Master appeared beside the block of text:

CLOUD MASTER: You seem knowledgeable about this near-death experience stuff. I was wondering if you had a minute to answer a few questions.

Fred awaited a response, wondering if he might need to reload the site page in order to actually see the reply. To his excitement, the chat box alert sounded and a new block of text filled the space beneath Fred’s initial query.

COACH333: For you, of course!

Fred considered the response strangely personal, yet he was learning from the Connections support groups that there were extremely friendly people in Near Death and metaphysical communities. Fred adjusted and began to type his response.

CLOUD MASTER: Thank you! I’m not sure where to start. I guess I should ask if it’s typical to see streaming data during an NDE. I’ve asked others, but they don’t seem to be as techie as I am.

COACH333: What an individual sees can depend much on the life they are released from. Programming and lessons experienced thus far can shape near-death experiences in many ways. Your job is likely the reason you saw data streams. It could also be connected to your task, your purpose.

Fred’s brow furrowed at the mention of his job. How had this stranger known he worked in data? Fred tabbed to his site profile. Did he post the information? He had been hasty with the entries, it was possible he ticked a box inadvertently. He found nothing to reveal his employment.

CLOUD MASTER: How do you know I work with data?

Fred typed with care. He read the words to be certain he had not given further information away before clicking the send key.

COACH333: You told me it would be your interest in this life. You were quite excited at how far technology has advanced and you would be able to dabble in data as you had lifetimes ago. 

Fred read the text multiple times. There was quite a bit to unpack in the statements. He leaned on the easiest and most pressing.

CLOUD MASTER: Have we met?

COACH333: Several times, but you might not remember. It has been a while.

Fred returned to his profile. His name wasn’t listed publicly as far as he could tell. He tried to review Coach333’s profile.

CLOUD MASTER: You must be mistaking me for someone with a similar handle. I guess code monkeys aren’t unique thinkers when it comes to usernames.

COACH333: Perhaps. I’m still happy to answer your questions, friend.

Fred smiled at the Coach333’s openness. Awkward as the conversation had become, he couldn’t deny a connection with this character, even through basic text chat. A sense of connection overcame Fred.

CLOUD MASTER: Well, you’re right. I’m in Big Data, currently tasked with this issue of connectivity.

COACH333: We’re all working on that issue. And have been for quite a long time.

Fred was once again confused. He pushed his chair away from the desk. He rose to peer over the walls of his cubicle. Could this Coach333 be someone on the floor toying with him? He scanned the tops of the spaces, searching. Fred dipped back to his seat. It occurred to him this person could be a higher level employee, someone spying to access the Cloud for personal use.

“Shit.” Fred practiced the breathing technique Hannah had showed him as he fought to regain control of his heart rate.

His eyes flicked to the screen.

COACH333: There is plenty of information in the Library. What do you want to know?

CLOUD MASTER: Which library are you referring to?

Fred hoped this would reveal if Coach333 was a ITower employee. The upper floor of the main ITower building housed a traditional library of archival technical manuals, company histories, and pieces from personal collections. No one ever read the books though. All the information had been scanned into files and uploaded ages ago for ease of access. It was no more than a museum.

COACH333: The Akashic.

Fred’s heart all but stopped as he recalled the attendees of the support group mentioning the Akashic.

CLOUD MASTER What do you know about that?

Fred was too caught up in the twist the conversation had taken to be concerned with spies or pranksters.

COACH333: This is something you have been tasked to work on. Connection. To the Akashic. As you said.

Fred swallowed a growing lump in his throat. This unknown chat room user, with no accessible profile, had touched a topic on Fred’s mind since he stepped into Hannah’s Connections shop. A topic he had mentioned to no one.

Fine, he thought. This character wants to mess around. Let’s see where this leads.

If this was a prank, Fred was about to nip it right in the bud. Fred’s fingers flew over the keys. He clicked the mouse with more haste and force than intended.

CLOUD MASTER: I might be working on the possibility technology can access the Akashic Records. Is it not one big Big Data cloud? Should be easy, right?

“Damn it all.” Fred grumbled and took to the keys again before his Coach333 had chance to respond.

CLOUD MASTER: I’m not sure if you noticed the connection to the data cloud and wireless cell nets have been more than a little out of whack. I’m supposed to be working on that mess.

COACH333: Same thing.

He stared at the screen, wondering if this guy was tech savvy as Fred thought.

COACH333: Your theory is not a joke. It is what you have been tasked to do.

Fred peered over the cubicle. Someone was playing a prank, or worse, testing his sanity and threatening his job.

CLOUD MASTER: No, they’re completely different. There is reality and there is mythology. Where did you say you were from again?

COACH333: Are you not paying attention during support group at Conscious Connections? You should listen to what Hannah is trying to tell you.

Fred froze at the specificity of the statements. He snapped a glance over his shoulder to be certain no one was watching. He scanned the components on the desk and waved a hand over the top frame of the screen. Was the camera recording?

His gaze fell to the screen. He read the words in the message box once again.

Fred’s fingers twitched as they hovered the keys. He could end the chat now, tap the little red X in the top corner of the window, and be done with it. He adjusted in his seat.

CLOUD MASTER: How do you know about Hannah? Are you an NDE group member too?

It was the most logical answer, Fred reasoned with the tingling at the back of his neck. It was possible another ITower employee could have had a similar experience and attended the NDE group. Fred peered over the top edge of his cubicle wall. This time searching for a kindred soul.

Before Fred could read the response from Coach333, the message chime drew his attention to a secondary window blocking the chat.

“Fred.” The Cloud systems repair project lead appeared on the screen.

“We need to see you in the east boardroom. Now.” The audio hiccupped through the audio relay as the image jerked like a flipbook of stills.

The image disappeared as soon as the audio ended. Fred shifted back to the chat window. The interruption had disconnected Coach333. Fred slumped into his chair. He would have to wait until after the meeting to continue with Coach333.