FRATE PETI
1. Scola · 2. Esplode · 3. Aresta · 4. Prison · 5. Paranoia · 6. Rede X · 7. Spleno-Porco · 8. Paradox · 9. Furgon · 10. Claves · 11. Slogan
12. Conserta · 13. Jornales · 14. Bitnic · 15. Enrolada · 16. Reportor · 17. Tuneli · 18. Juas · 19. Vampires · 20. Tortura · 21. Judi · Epiloga

9. Furgon

El ia es tan coler ce me ia pensa ce el va creve. Tu sabe ce me ia dise ce sola rara el perde sua calmia? En acel sera, el ia perde lo plu ca de sempre.

He was so angry I thought he was going to pop. You know I said I’d only seen him lose his cool rarely? That night, he lost it more than he ever had.

“Vos no ta crede lo. Esta polisior, el ia ave sirca des-oto anios e el ia repete dise: ‘Ma senior, perce tu ia es en Berkeley ier si tua cliente es en Mountain View?’ Me ia repete esplica a el ce me ensenia a Berkeley, e alora el ia dise: ‘Me ia crede ce tu es un esperta consultable,’ e nos ia comensa denova. Lo ia es como alga spesie de comedia televisada en cual la polisiores ia deveni controlada par un raio de stupidia.

“You wouldn’t believe it. This cop, he was like eighteen years old and he kept saying, ‘But sir, why were you in Berkeley yesterday if your client is in Mountain View?’ I kept explaining to him that I teach at Berkeley and then he’d say, ‘I thought you were a consultant,’ and we’d start over again. It was like some kind of sitcom where the cops have been taken over by the stupidity ray.

“E, plu mal, el ia repete insiste ce me ia es en Berkeley ance oji, e me ia repete dise ce no, me no ia es, e el ia dise ce me ia es ala. Alora el ia mostra a me mea fatura de BandaPronto, e lo ia indica ce me ia traversa la Ponte San Mateo a tre veses en la dia!

“What’s worse was he kept insisting that I’d been in Berkeley today as well, and I kept saying no, I hadn’t been, and he said I had been. Then he showed me my FasTrak billing and it said I’d driven the San Mateo bridge three times that day!

“An plu,” – el ia dise, e ia enspira tal ce me ia comprende ce el es vera furiosa – “los ia ave informa sur do me ia vade, locas cual no ave un peajeria. Los ia sonda mea carta, mera sur la strada, acaso. E la informa ia es erante! Txa de enferno, vide, los spia tota de nos e los no es an capas!”

“That’s not all,” he said, and drew in a breath that let me know he was really steamed. “They had information about where I’d been, places that didn’t have a toll plaza. They’d been polling my pass just on the street, at random. And it was wrong! Holy crap, I mean, they’re spying on us all and they’re not even competent!”

Me ia desende lenta a la cosina en cuando el ia cexa ala, e aora me ia regarda el de la porte. Mama ia regarda me, e ambos nos ia leva nosa suprasiles como per dise – “Ci va dise a el: ‘me ia dise ja lo’?” Me ia inclina mea testa a Mama. El ia pote usa sua potias “sposial” per cansela la furia de Papa en un modo cual ia es nonatenable per me como un unia mera fial.

I’d drifted down into the kitchen as he railed there, and now I was watching him from the doorway. Mom met my eye and we both raised our eyebrows as if to say, Who’s going to say ‘I told you so’ to him? I nodded at her. She could use her spousular powers to nullify his rage in a way that was out of my reach as a mere filial unit.

“Drew.” – el ia dise, e ia saisi sua braso per fa ce el sesa marxa de asi a ala en la cosina, brandinte sua brasos como un predicor de strada.

“Drew,” she said, and grabbed him by the arm to make him stop stalking back and forth in the kitchen, waving his arms like a street-preacher.

“Como?” – el ia abaia.

“What?” he snapped.

“Me pensa ce tu debe demanda a Marcus per pardona.” El ia manteni un vose calma e plana. Papa e me es la locos de la familia – Mama es vera la roca.

“I think you owe Marcus an apology.” She kept her voice even and level. Dad and I are the spazzes in the household – Mom’s a total rock.

Papa ia regarda me. Sua oios ia clui partal en cuando el ia pensa per un minuto. “Oce.” – el ia dise final. “Tu razona bon. Me ia parla sur monitoris capas. Esta xices ia es amatores asoluta. Pardona, fio.” – el ia dise. “Tu ia razona bon. Acel ia es riable.” El ia estende sua mano e ia presa la mea, ante dona a me un abrasa firma e nonespetada.

Dad looked at me. His eyes narrowed as he thought for a minute. “All right,” he said at last. “You’re right. I was talking about competent surveillance. These guys were total amateurs. I’m sorry, son,” he said. “You were right. That was ridiculous.” He stuck his hand out and shook my hand, then gave me a firm, unexpected hug.

“Dio, cua nos fa a esta pais, Marcus? Tua jenera merita erita un cosa plu bon ca esta.” Cuando el ia relasa me, me ia vide la plietas profonda en sua fas, linias cual me ia persepi nunca a ante.

“God, what are we doing to this country, Marcus? Your generation deserves to inherit something better than this.” When he let me go, I could see the deep wrinkles in his face, lines I’d never noticed.

Me ia reasende a mea sala e ia fa alga juas en Rede X. On ia ave un bon sporte multijuoral, un jua de piratas macinal en cual on ia debe aventura a cada dia o simil per enrola la molas xef de sua ecipo intera ante pote saca e fura denova. Lo ia es un jua de la tipo cual me ia odia ma no ia pote sesa jua: multe aventuras repetosa de cual sua completi no ia es an multe sasiante, un pico de combate entre juores (scaramuxas per descovre ci va es la capitan de la barcon), e no tan multe rompetestas saboreable per la serebro. Per la plu, partisipa en un jua de esta tipo ia fa ce me anela Joia Loco Harajuku, cual ia ecuilibra bon la cores tra la mundo real, la serebris sur rompetestas enlinia, e la stratejis con sua ecipo.

I went back up to my room and played some Xnet games. There was a good multiplayer thing, a clockwork pirate game where you had to quest every day or two to wind up your whole crew’s mainsprings before you could go plundering and pillaging again. It was the kind of game I hated but couldn’t stop playing: lots of repetitive quests that weren’t all that satisfying to complete, a little bit of player-versus-player combat (scrapping to see who would captain the ship) and not that many cool puzzles that you had to figure out. Mostly, playing this kind of game made me homesick for Harajuku Fun Madness, which balanced out running around in the real world, figuring out online puzzles, and strategizing with your team.

Ma oji lo ia es esata la cosa nesesada. Diverti sin pensa.

But today it was just what I needed. Mindless entertainment.

Mea papa povre.

My poor dad.

Me ia fa acel a el. El ia es felis a ante, fidante ce on spende sua dolares de imposta per securi el. Me ia destrui acel fida. Lo ia es un fida falsa, natural, ma lo ia susta el. Vidente el aora, misera e rompeda, me ia demanda a me esce lo es plu bon ce on vide clar ma sin espera o ce on abita la paradiso de un fol. Acel vergonia – la vergonia cual me ia senti pos sede mea claves, pos es rompeda par los – ia reveni, lasante me sin enerjia e desirante sola vade a via de me.

I’d done that to him. He’d been happy before, confident that his tax dollars were being spent to keep him safe. I’d destroyed that confidence. It was false confidence, of course, but it had kept him going. Seeing him now, miserable and broken, I wondered if it was better to be clear-eyed and hopeless or to live in a fool’s paradise. That shame – the shame I’d felt since I gave up my passwords, since they’d broken me – returned, leaving me listless and wanting to just get away from myself.

Mea carater ia es un pirata minor sur la barcon Colpazombi, e sua mola ia desenrola cuando me ia es estralinia. Me ia debe mesaje a tota la otra juores sur mea barcon asta trova un preparada per reenrola me. Esta ia manteni mea ativia. Me ia gusta lo, en fato. Lo ia es alga majiosa cuando un person completa nonconoseda fa un favore a on. E car esta ia es Rede X, me ia sabe ce tota la nonconosedas es amis, en alga modo.

My character was a swabbie on the pirate ship Zombie Charger, and he’d wound down while I’d been offline. I had to IM all the other players on my ship until I found one willing to wind me up. That kept me occupied. I liked it, actually. There was something magic about a total stranger doing you a favor. And since it was the Xnet, I knew that all the strangers were friends, in some sense.

> Do tu es?

> Where u located?

La carater ci ia reenrola me ia es nomida Lizanator, e el ia es fema, an si esta no ia vole dise ce la juor es un xica. Xicos ia ave alga tende strana de jua carateres fema.

The character who wound me up was called Lizanator, and it was female, though that didn’t mean that it was a girl. Guys had some weird affinity for playing female characters.

> San Francisco

– me ia dise.

I said.

> No, bobo, do tu es en San Fran?

> No stupe, where you located in San Fran?

> Perce? Tu es un pervertida?

> Why, you a pervert?

Esta ia clui usual acel tipo de conversa. Natural, cada spasio de jua ia es plen de pedofilicas e pervertidas, e polisiores ci finje tenta pedofilicas e pervertidas (an si me ia espera vera ce on ave no polisiores en Rede X!). Un tal acusa ia sufisi per cambia la tema, a nove veses en des.

That usually shut down that line of conversation. Of course every gamespace was full of pedos and pervs, and cops pretending to be pedo- and perv-bait (though I sure hoped there weren’t any cops on the Xnet!). An accusation like that was enough to change the subject nine out of ten times.

> Mision? Colina Potrero? Noe? Baia Este?

> Mission? Potrero Hill? Noe? East Bay?

> Fa no plu ca enrola, grasias

> Just wind me up k thx?

El ia sesa enrola.

She stopped winding.

> Tu es asustada?

> You scared?

> Me es secur – perce la interesa?

> Safe – why do you care?

> Mera curiosa

> Just curious

El ia dona a me un mal senti. El ia es clar plu ca curiosa. On pote nomi lo paranoia: me ia deslia e ia descomuta mea Xbox.

I was getting a bad vibe off her. She was clearly more than just curious. Call it paranoia. I logged off and shut down my Xbox.

Papa ia regarda me supra la table a la matina seguente e ia dise – “Lo pare ce la situa va deveni plu bon, a la min.” El ia pasa un copia de la Cronolojia abrida a la paje tre.

Dad looked at me over the table the next morning and said, “It looks like it’s going to get better, at least.” He handed me a copy of the Chronicle open to the third page.

Un portavose per la Departe de Securia Interna ia confirma ce la ofisia en San Francisco ia solisita un aumenta par 300 persentos a sua bujeta e empleadas.

A Department of Homeland Security spokesman has confirmed that the San Francisco office has requested a 300 percent budget and personnel increase from DC

Como?

What?

Jeneral Major Graeme Sutherland, la ofisior comandante per operas de Securia Interna en California Norde, ia confirma la solisita a un confere jornaliste ier, notante ce un crese subita de ativia suspetable en la Rejion Baia ia provoca la solisita. “Nos oserva un crese subita de conversa e ativia secreta, e crede ce sabotores crea alarmas falsa de securia con intende de sumina nosa laboras.”

Major General Graeme Sutherland, the commanding officer for Northern California DHS operations, confirmed the request at a press conference yesterday, noting that a spike in suspicious activity in the Bay Area prompted the request. “We are tracking a spike in underground chatter and activity and believe that saboteurs are deliberately manufacturing false security alerts to undermine our efforts.”

Mea oios ia strabi. Txa, esta no pote aveni!

My eyes crossed. No freaking way.

“Esta alarmas falsa es cisa ‘interferes de radar’ intendeda per masci atacas vera. La sola modo eficas de combate los es un aumenta de la cuantia de empleadas e analisores afin nos pote investiga completa cada trasa.”

“These false alarms are potentially ‘radar chaff’ intended to disguise real attacks. The only effective way of combatting them is to step up staffing and analyst levels so that we can fully investigate every lead.”

Sutherland ia nota ce la retardas esperiada tra tota la site es “nonfortunosa” e ia promete elimina los.

Sutherland noted the delays experienced all over the city were “unfortunate” and committed to eliminating them.

Me ia imajina la site con la cuantia cuatruple o sincuple de enforsores de Securia Interna, introduida per egali mea propre ideas stupida. Van ia dise coreta. Plu me ta combate los, plu lo ta mali.

I had a vision of the city with four or five times as many DHS enforcers, brought in to make up for my own stupid ideas. Van was right. The more I fought them, the worse it was going to get.

Papa ia indica la jornal. “Esta xices es foles, cisa, ma los es foles metodosa. Los va continua simple lansa recursos a esta problem asta cuando los solve lo. Lo es tratable, sabe. On escava tota la datos en la site, investiga cada trasa. Los va catura la teroristes.”

Dad pointed at the paper. “These guys may be fools, but they’re methodical fools. They’ll just keep throwing resources at this problem until they solve it. It’s tractable, you know. Mining all the data in the city, following up on every lead. They’ll catch the terrorists.”

Me ia perde mea calmia. “Papa! Esce tu escuta tu? Los parla sur investiga cuasi cada person en la site San Francisco!”

I lost it. “Dad! Are you listening to yourself? They’re talking about investigating practically every person in the city of San Francisco!”

“Si,” – el ia dise – “lo es tal. Los va catura cada divorsada nonpaiante, cada traficor de drogas, cada bruta e cada teroriste. Esta es cisa la cosa la plu bon cual ia aveni a esta pais de sempre.”

“Yeah,” he said, “that’s right. They’ll catch every alimony cheat, every dope dealer, every dirt-bag and every terrorist. You just wait. This could be the best thing that ever happened to this country.”

“Dise ce tu broma,” – me ia dise – “me suplica tu. Tu crede ce on ia intende esta cuando on ia scrive la Constitui? Como de la Declara de Diretos?”

“Tell me you’re joking,” I said. “I beg you. You think that that’s what they intended when they wrote the Constitution? What about the Bill of Rights?”

“La Declara de Diretos ia es scriveda ante cuando on ia pote escava datos.” – el ia dise. El ia es merveliosa calma, serta ce el razona coreta. “La direto de libria de asosia es bon, ma perce nos no ta permete ce la polisiores esplora nosa redes sosial per descovre esce nos asosia con gangores e teroristes?”

“The Bill of Rights was written before data-mining,” he said. He was awesomely serene, convinced of his rightness. “The right to freedom of association is fine, but why shouldn’t the cops be allowed to mine your social network to figure out if you’re hanging out with gangbangers and terrorists?”

“Car lo es un invade de nosa privatia!” – me ia dise.

“Because it’s an invasion of my privacy!” I said.

“Perce lo importa? Tu ta prefere plu la privatia o la teroristes?”

“What’s the big deal? Would you rather have privacy or terrorists?”

Iu. Me ia odia disputa tal con mea papa. Me ia nesesa un cafe. “Papa, per favore. Par sutrae nosa privatia, los no catura teroristes: los fa no plu ca disturba la persones normal.”

Agh. I hated arguing with my dad like this. I needed a coffee. “Dad, come on. Taking away our privacy isn’t catching terrorists: it’s just inconveniencing normal people.”

“Como tu sabe ce los no catura teroristes?”

“How do you know it’s not catching terrorists?”

“Do es la teroristes ci los ia catura?”

“Where are the terrorists they’ve caught?”

“Serta, nos va vide arestas a la bon momento. Espeta mera.”

“I’m sure we’ll see arrests in good time. You just wait.”

“Papa, cua de enferno ia aveni a tu pos la sera pasada? Tu ia es preparada per destrui la polisiores car los ia para tu —”

“Dad, what the hell has happened to you since last night? You were ready to go nuclear on the cops for pulling you over –”

“No parla tal a me, Marcus. Cua ia aveni pos la sera pasada es ce me ia pote considera la situa e leje esta.” El ia secute sua jornal. “Los ia catura me car la viles es ativa en interfere contra los. Los nesesa ajusta sua tecnicas per vinse la interfere. Ma los va susede. Entretempo, un para sur la strada de ves a ves es un custa basa per paia. Esta no es la tempo de fa la rol de avocato sur la Declara de Diretos. Esta es la tempo de fa alga sacrifias per manteni secur nosa site.”

“Don’t use that tone with me, Marcus. What’s happened since last night is that I’ve had the chance to think it over and to read this.” He rattled his paper. “The reason they caught me is that the bad guys are actively jamming them. They need to adjust their techniques to overcome the jamming. But they’ll get there. Meanwhile the occasional road stop is a small price to pay. This isn’t the time to be playing lawyer about the Bill of Rights. This is the time to make some sacrifices to keep our city safe.”

Me no ia pote fini mea tostada. Me ia pone la plato en la lavaplato e ia parti per scola. Me ia nesesa sorti de ala.

I couldn’t finish my toast. I put the plate in the dishwasher and left for school. I had to get out of there.

La usores de Rede X no ia es felis sur la monitori aumentada par la polisia, ma los no ia intende aseta pasiva lo. Algun ia telefoni a un program de radio KQED e ia dise ce la polisia peri sua tempo, ce nos pote sabota la sistem en modo plu rapida ca on pote desmarania lo. La rejistra ia es un de la descargas la plu popular de Rede X en acel sera.

The Xnetters weren’t happy about the stepped up police surveillance, but they weren’t going to take it lying down. Someone called a phone-in show on KQED and told them that the police were wasting their time, that we could monkeywrench the system faster than they could untangle it. The recording was a top Xnet download that night.

“Tu escuta California Direta e nos parla a un person anonim a un telefon publica en San Francisco. El ave sua propre informa sur la retardas cual nos ia esperia tra la urbe en esta semana. Telefonor, tu difusa aora.”

“This is California Live and we’re talking to an anonymous caller at a payphone in San Francisco. He has his own information about the slowdowns we’ve been facing around town this week. Caller, you’re on the air.”

“Si, he, esta es sola la comensa, sabe? Me vole dise, bon, nos ia comensa apena. Ta ce los emplea mil milion gardores e pone un punto de controla a cada canto. Nos va interfere con tota! E he, tota esta caca sur teroristes? Nos no es teroristes! Reposa la repete, me vole dise, vera! Nos interfere con la sistem car nos odia la Securia Interna, e car nos ama nosa site. Teroristes? Me an no pote spele djihad. Pas, txau.”

“Yeah, yo, this is just the beginning, you know? I mean, like, we’re just getting started. Let them hire a billion pigs and put a checkpoint on every corner. We’ll jam them all! And like, all this crap about terrorists? We’re not terrorists! Give me a break, I mean, really! We’re jamming up the system because we hate the Homeland Security, and because we love our city. Terrorists? I can’t even spell jihad. Peace out.”

El ia sona stupida. No mera par la parolas noncoerente, ma ance par sua tono autosasiada. El ia sona como un enfante ci es ofendente orgulosa de se. El ia es un enfante ci es ofendente orgulosa de se.

He sounded like an idiot. Not just the incoherent words, but also his gloating tone. He sounded like a kid who was indecently proud of himself. He was a kid who was indecently proud of himself.

Rede X ia flami sur esta. Multe persones ia opina ce el es stupida car el ia telefoni, ma otras ia opina ce el es un eroe. Me ia es ansiosa ce on ia ave probable un camera puntada a la telefon cual el ia usa. O un lejador de eticeta cual ia scane cisa sua Carta Rapida. Me ia espera ce el ia es sufisinte rusosa per limpi sua trasas de dito de sur la moneta, leva la capeta, e lasa tota sua radioeticetas a casa. Ma me ia duta lo. Me ia demanda esce el va oia un bateta de porte a alga tempo prosima.

The Xnet flamed out over this. Lots of people thought he was an idiot for calling in, while others thought he was a hero. I worried that there was probably a camera aimed at the payphone he’d used. Or an arphid reader that might have sniffed his Fast Pass. I hoped he’d had the smarts to wipe his fingerprints off the quarter, keep his hood up, and leave all his arphids at home. But I doubted it. I wondered if he’d get a knock on the door sometime soon.

Mea modo de sabe cuando alga cosa grande ia aveni en Rede X ia es ce me ia reseta subita milion epostas de persones ci vole ce M1k3y conose la novas la plu fresca. Lo ia es tal, cuando me ia es lejente sur Sr No-Spele-Djihad, ce mea caxa de posta ia deveni demente. Cadun ia ave un mesaje per me – un lia a un blog en Rede X – un de la multe anonimes cual ia es fundida en la sistem Freenet de publici documentos cual ia es ance usada par promovores de democratia xines.

The way I knew when something big had happened on Xnet was that I’d suddenly get a million emails from people who wanted M1k3y to know about the latest haps. It was just as I was reading about Mr Can’t-Spell-Jihad that my mailbox went crazy. Everyone had a message for me – a link to a livejournal on the Xnet – one of the many anonymous blogs that were based on the Freenet document publishing system that was also used by Chinese democracy advocates.

> Evita apena

> Close call

> Nos ia es interferente a Embarcadero a esta sera, bufoninte, renovinte a cada person sua clave de auto o clave de porte o Carta Rapida o BandaPronto, sperdente alga polvo negra falsa. Polisiores ia es en tota locas, ma nos ia es plu astuta ca los; nos es ala a cuasi cada sera e on catura nos nunca.

> We were jamming at the Embarcadero tonite and goofing around giving everyone a new car key or door key or Fast Pass or FasTrak, tossing around a little fake gunpowder. There were cops everywhere but we were smarter than them; we’re there pretty much every night and we never get caught.

> Alora, on ia catura nos oji. Lo ia es un era stupida – nos ia sesa atende, ia cade en la trapa. Un polisior desemblada ia catura mea ami e la otras de nos a pos. Los ia oserva la fola tra tempo longa, e los ia ave prosima un de acel camiones, e los ia prende a lo cuatro de nos ma no ia prende la otras.

> So we got caught tonight. It was a stupid mistake we got sloppy we got busted. It was an undercover who caught my pal and then got the rest of us. They’d been watching the crowd for a long time and they had one of those trucks nearby and they took four of us in but missed the rest.

> La camion ia es PLENIDA como un bote de sardinas par persones de cada spesie, vea joven negra blanca rica povre, tota suspetadas, e du polisiores ia atenta interoga nos, e la desembladas ia trae constante plu de nos. La plu de persones ia atenta vade a la fronte de la filo per pasa tra la interoga, donce nos ia move constante a retro, e nos ia es ala tra oras, en caldia grande, e lo ia deveni plu folida, no min.

> The truck was JAMMED like a can of sardines with every kind of person, old young black white rich poor all suspects, and there were two cops trying to ask us questions and the undercovers kept bringing in more of us. Most people were trying to get to the front of the line to get through questioning so we kept on moving back and it was like hours in there and really hot and it was getting more crowded not less.

> A sirca 20:00 los ia comensa la turno seguente, e du polisiores nova ia entra e ia cria a la du ci ia es ja ala: perce de merda vos fa no cosa asi? Los ia fa vera un disputa, e pos esta la du polisiores vea ia parti e la novas ia senta a sua tables e ia xuxa a lunlotra per alga tempo.

> At like 8PM they changed shifts and two new cops came in and bawled out the two cops who were there all like wtf? aren’t you doing anything here. They had a real fight and then the two old cops left and the new cops sat down at their desks and whispered to each other for a while.

> Alora un polisior ia sta se e ia comensa cria: CADUN VADE A CASA TXA NOS AVE TAXES PLU GRANDE CA IRITA VOS PAR PLU DEMANDAS SI VOS IA FA UN MAL COSA ALORA NO FA LO DENOVA E TA CE ESTA ES UN AVERTI PER TOTA VOS.

> Then one cop stood up and started shouting EVERYONE JUST GO HOME JESUS CHRIST WE’VE GOT BETTER THINGS TO DO THAN BOTHER YOU WITH MORE QUESTIONS IF YOU’VE DONE SOMETHING WRONG JUST DON’T DO IT AGAIN AND LET THIS BE A WARNING TO YOU ALL.

> Alga de la persones en vestones ia deveni vera coler, e esta ia es ILARIO car, vide, a des minutos a ante, los ia cexa car on deteni los ala, e alora los ia es tan furiosa car on relasa los – ta ce los deside, no?

> A bunch of the suits got really pissed which was HILARIOUS because I mean ten minutes before they were buggin about being held there and now they were wicked pissed about being let go, like make up your minds!

> Ma nos ia parti rapida e ia evade e ia veni a casa per scrive esta. On ave desembladas en tota locas, crede. Si tu es interferente, abri tua oios e es preparada per fuji cuando problemes aveni. Si los catura tu, proba resta sempre silente – los es tan ocupada ce cisa los va fa no plu ca relasa tu.

> We split fast though and got out and came home to write this. There are undercovers everywhere, believe. If you’re jamming, be open-eyed and get ready to run when problems happen. If you get caught try to wait it out they’re so busy they’ll maybe just let you go.

> Nos ia ocupa tan los! Tota acel persones en acel camion ia es ala car nos ia interfere contra los! Donce interfere plu!

> We made them that busy! All those people in that truck were there because we’d jammed them. So jam on!

Me ia senti como si a punto de vomiti. Acel cuatro persones – jovenes ci me ia encontra nunca – los ia veni prosima a desapare per sempre, par causa de un cosa comensada par me.

I felt like I was going to throw up. Those four people – kids I’d never met – they nearly went away forever because of something I’d started.

Par causa de un cosa comandada par me. Me ia es no plu bon ca un teroriste.

Because of something I’d told them to do. I was no better than a terrorist.

La solisita de bujeta per Securia Interna ia es aprobada. La Presidente ia apare televisada con la Governor de California per informa nos ce no custa es tro alta per securia. On ia obliga nos a regarda lo a la dia seguente en la asembla de scola. Mea Papa ia aclama. El ia odia la Presidente ja de sua dia de eleje, disente ce el es no plu bon ca la pasada, e la pasada ia fa un fiasco completa, ma aora el ia pote fa no plu ca parla sur la desidosia e dinamicisme de la nova.

The DHS got their budget requisition approved. The President went on TV with the Governor to tell us that no price was too high for security. We had to watch it the next day in school at assembly. My Dad cheered. He’d hated the President since the day he was elected, saying he wasn’t any better than the last guy and the last guy had been a complete disaster, but now all he could do was talk about how decisive and dynamic the new guy was.

“Tu debe condui jentil con tua padre.” – Mama ia dise a me a un sera pos mea reveni a casa de scola. El ia labora de casa, tan multe como posible. Mama es un spesialiste autonom sur reloca, ci aida persones brites a abita bon en San Francisco. La Comision Alta de la Rena Unida paia a el per responde a epostas de briteses confondeda tra la pais ci es completa confusada par la strania de nos esuanes. Sua profesa es esplica la esuanes, e el ia dise ce a esta dias esta es plu bon fada a casa, do el no debe mesma vide la esuanes o parla a los.

“You have to take it easy on your father,” Mom said to me one night after I got home from school. She’d been working from home as much as possible. Mom’s a freelance relocation specialist who helps British people get settled in in San Francisco. The UK High Commission pays her to answer emails from mystified British people across the country who are totally confused by how freaky we Americans are. She explains Americans for a living, and she said that these days it was better to do that from home, where she didn’t have to actually see any Americans or talk to them.

Me ave no iludes sur Britan. La SUA es cisa contente de trinxa sua Constitui sempre cuando alga djihadiste regarda straba nos, ma, como me ia aprende en mea anio nove de scola, en mea projeta nondependente de Studias Sosial, la briteses an no ave un Constitui. On ave leges ala cual ta risi la capeletas de tua orteos: on pote prisoni un person per un anio intera si on es vera serta ce el es un teroriste ma no ave atestas sufisinte per demostra lo. Ma como serta on pote es, si on no ave atestas sufisinte per demostra lo? Como on ia deveni tan serta? Esce on ia vide el esecutante atas teroriste en un sonia vera vivin?

I don’t have any illusions about Britain. America may be willing to trash its Constitution every time some Jihadist looks cross-eyed at us, but as I learned in my ninth-grade Social Studies independent project, the Brits don’t even have a Constitution. They’ve got laws there that would curl the hair on your toes: they can put you in jail for an entire year if they’re really sure that you’re a terrorist but don’t have enough evidence to prove it. Now, how sure can they be if they don’t have enough evidence to prove it? How’d they get that sure? Did they see you committing terrorist acts in a really vivid dream?

E la monitori en Britan fa ce la SUA sembla la ora de la amatores. Un londonan promedia es fotografida a 500 veses per dia, mera paseante tra la stradas. Cada placa de veculo es fotografida a cada canto en la pais. Cadun, de la bancos asta la compania de transporta publica, es zelosa per trasa la persones e denunsia los si on pensa ce los es an pico suspetable.

And the surveillance in Britain makes America look like amateur hour. The average Londoner is photographed 500 times a day, just walking around the streets. Every license plate is photographed at every corner in the country. Everyone from the banks to the public transit company is enthusiastic about tracking you and snitching on you if they think you’re remotely suspicious.

Ma Mama no ia vide tal la situa. El ia parti de Britan a media de sua tempo a liseo, e el ia senti nunca comfortosa asi, an si el ia sposi un xico de Petaluma e ia eleva un fio asi. A el, esta va es sempre la pais de barbares, e Britan va es sempre la nido.

But Mom didn’t see it that way. She’d left Britain halfway through high school and she’d never felt at home here, no matter that she’d married a boy from Petaluma and raised a son here. To her, this was always the land of barbarians, and Britain would always be home.

“Mama, el es simple noncoreta. Tu, de tota persones, debe sabe esta. Tota par cual esta pais esele es aora enviada a la cloacas, e Papa suporta lo. Esce tu ia nota ce on ia catura no teroristes? La mantra de Papa es ‘Nos nesesa es secur’, ma el nesesa sabe ce la plu de nos no senti secur. Nos senti perilida tra tota la tempo.”

“Mom, he’s just wrong. You of all people should know that. Everything that makes this country great is being flushed down the toilet and he’s going along with it. Have you noticed that they haven’t caught any terrorists? Dad’s all like, ‘We need to be safe,’ but he needs to know that most of us don’t feel safe. We feel endangered all the time.”

“Me sabe tota esta, Marcus. Crede me, me no suporta lo cual ia aveni a esta pais. Ma tua padre es —” El ia para subita. “Cuando tu no ia reveni pos la atacas, el ia crede —”

“I know this all, Marcus. Believe me, I’m not a fan of what’s been happening to this country. But your father is –” She broke off. “When you didn’t come home after the attacks, he thought –”

El ia leva se e ia fa per se un tas de te, un cosa cual el fa sempre cuando el es noncomfortosa o disturbada.

She got up and made herself a cup of tea, something she did whenever she was uncomfortable or disconcerted.

“Marcus.” – el ia dise. “Marcus, nos ia crede ce tu ia mori. Tu comprende lo? Nos ia lamenta tu tra dias. Nos ia imajina tu en pesos esplodeda, a la fondo de la mar. Mor car alga bastardo ia deside mata sentos de nonconosedas per alga promove.”

“Marcus,” she said. “Marcus, we thought you were dead. Do you understand that? We were mourning you for days. We were imagining you blown to bits, at the bottom of the ocean. Dead because some bastard decided to kill hundreds of strangers to make some point.”

Esta ia penetra lenta me. Vera, me ia comprende ja ce los ia es ansiosa. Multe persones ia mori en la bombis – cuatro mil ia es la estima presente – e cuasi cadun ia conose algun ci no ia reveni a acel dia. On ia ave du persones de mea scola ci ia desapare.

That sank in slowly. I mean, I understood that they’d been worried. Lots of people died in the bombings – four thousand was the present estimate – and practically everyone knew someone who didn’t come home that day. There were two people from my school who had disappeared.

“Tua padre ia es capas de mata algun. Cualcun. El ia es demente. Tu ia vide nunca el en tal state. Ance me ia vide nunca el en tal state. El ia es demente. El ia senta simple a esta table e ia blasfema plu e plu e plu. Parolas vil, parolas cual me ia oia nunca de el. A un dia – la dia tre – algun ia telefoni, e el ia es serta ce acel es tu, ma lo ia es un era de numero, e el ia lansa tan forte la telefon ce lo ia desintegra en miles de pesos.” Me ia vole sabe sur la telefon nova en la cosina.

“Your father was ready to kill someone. Anyone. He was out of his mind. You’ve never seen him like this. I’ve never seen him like it either. He was out of his mind. He’d just sit at this table and curse and curse and curse. Vile words, words I’d never heard him say. One day – the third day – someone called and he was sure it was you, but it was a wrong number and he threw the phone so hard it disintegrated into thousands of pieces.” I’d wondered about the new kitchen phone.

“Alga cosa ia rompe en tua padre. El ama tu. Ambos nos ama tu. Tu es la cosa la plu importante en nosa vives. Me pensa ce tu no comprende esta. Esce tu recorda cuando tu ia ave des anios, cuando me ia revade a London per acel tempo longa? Tu recorda?”

“Something broke in your father. He loves you. We both love you. You are the most important thing in our lives. I don’t think you realize that. Do you remember when you were ten, when I went home to London for all that time? Do you remember?”

Me ia acorda silente con testa.

I nodded silently.

“Nos ia es preparada per divorsa, Marcus. O, la razona no es importante aora. Lo ia es mera un mal tempo, un situa de la spesie cual aveni cuando persones ci ama lunlotra sesa atende tra alga anios. El ia veni e ia trova me e ia convinse me a reveni per tu. Nos no ia pote tolera la pensa de fa acel a tu. Nos ia deveni denova enamada per tu. Nos es oji juntada par causa de tu.”

“We were ready to get a divorce, Marcus. Oh, it doesn’t matter why anymore. It was just a bad patch, the kind of thing that happens when people who love each other stop paying attention for a few years. He came and got me and convinced me to come back for you. We couldn’t bear the thought of doing that to you. We fell in love again for you. We’re together today because of you.”

Me ia ave un noda en mea garga. Me ia sabe nunca esta. On ia informa nunca me.

I had a lump in my throat. I’d never known this. No one had ever told me.

“Tal, tua padre sufri aora. El no es en sua umor normal. Alga tempo va debe pasa ante cuando el va reveni a nos, ante cuando el va es denova la om ci me ama. Nos debe comprende el, asta alora.”

“So your father is having a hard time right now. He’s not in his right mind. It’s going to take some time before he comes back to us, before he’s the man I love again. We need to understand him until then.”

El ia dona a me un abrasa longa, e me ia nota como magra sua brasos ia deveni, como pendente la pel es a sua col. Me ia imajina sempre mea madre como joven, pal e felis, con jenas rosin, astuta regardante tra sua oculo de montur metal. Aora el ia aspeta alga como un fem vea. Me ia fa esta a el. La teroristes ia fa esta a el. La Departe de Securia Interna ia fa esta a el. En un modo strana, tota nos ia es a la mesma lado, e Mama e Papa e tota acel persones contra ci nos ia fa nosa rus ia es a la otra lado.

She gave me a long hug, and I noticed how thin her arms had gotten, how saggy the skin on her neck was. I always thought of my mother as young, pale, rosy-cheeked and cheerful, peering shrewdly through her metal-rim glasses. Now she looked a little like an old woman. I had done that to her. The terrorists had done that to her. The Department of Homeland Security had done that to her. In a weird way, we were all on the same side, and Mom and Dad and all those people we’d spoofed were on the other side.

Me no ia pote adormi en acel note. La parolas de Mama ia flue repetente tra mea testa. Papa ia es tensada e cuieta en come, e nos ia parla apena, car me no ia fida mea capasia de no dise cosas nonconveninte, e car el ia es tota turbada sur la reporta la plu resente, ce al-Qaida ia es serta culpable de la bombi. Ses grupos teroriste diversa ia reclama la culpablia de la ataca, ma sola la video enlinia de al-Qaida ia revela informas cual, seguente la Departe de Securia Interna, ia es ja revelada a nun.

I couldn’t sleep that night. Mom’s words kept running through my head. Dad had been tense and quiet at dinner and we’d barely spoken, because I didn’t trust myself not to say the wrong thing and because he was all wound up over the latest news, that Al Qaeda was definitely responsible for the bombing. Six different terrorist groups had claimed responsibility for the attack, but only Al Qaeda’s Internet video disclosed information that the DHS said they hadn’t disclosed to anyone.

Me ia reclina en leto e ia escuta un program telefonable de radio tarda. La tema ia es problemes sesal, presentada par un om ge ci me ia joia normal escuta: el ia dona conselas tan nonsutil, ma bon conselas, e el ia es multe comica e femin.

I lay in bed and listened to a late-night call-in radio show. The topic was sex problems, with this gay guy who I normally loved to listen to, he would give people such raw advice, but good advice, and he was really funny and campy.

A esta note me no ia pote rie. La plu de la telefonores ia vole demanda per modos de maneja la problem ce atas amosa con sua acompanior ia deveni difisil pos la ataca. An en conversas sur seso en la radio, me no ia pote evade la tema.

Tonight I couldn’t laugh. Most of the callers wanted to ask what to do about the fact that they were having a hard time getting busy with their partners ever since the attack. Even on sex-talk radio, I couldn’t get away from the topic.

Me ia descomuta la radio e ia oia un motor ronronante sur la strada a su.

I switched the radio off and heard a purring engine on the street below.

Mea sala de dormi es a la nivel la plu alta de nosa casa, un de la damas pintida. Me ave un sofito inclinada de suteto e fenetras a ambos lados – la un regarda la Mision, la otra regarda la strada ante nosa casa. On ia ave comun autos cruser a tota oras de la note, ma alga cosa ia es diferente en esta ruido de motor.

My bedroom is in the top floor of our house, one of the painted ladies. I have a sloping attic ceiling and windows on both sides – one overlooks the whole Mission, the other looks out into the street in front of our place. There were often cars cruising at all hours of the night, but there was something different about this engine noise.

Me ia vade a la fenetra de strada e ia enrola mea cortina. Ala sur la strada su me, on ia ave un furgon blanca e nonmarcada, de cual sua teto ia es garlandida con radioantenas, plu antenas ca me ia vide sur cualce auto. Lo ia cruseri multe lenta longo la strada, con un plato peti cual ia jira constante a supra.

I went to the street-window and pulled up my blinds. Down on the street below me was a white, unmarked van whose roof was festooned with radio antennas, more antennas than I’d ever seen on a car. It was cruising very slowly down the street, a little dish on top spinning around and around.

En cuando me ia regarda, la furgon ia para e un de la portes retro ia abri subita. Un om en un uniforma de Securia Interna – me ia pote aora reconose estas de sento metres – ia pasea a sur la strada. El ia ave un aparato de alga spesie en sua mano, e la brilia blu ia lumina sua fas. El ia pasea de asi a ala, prima esplorante mea visinas, notante par sua aparato, e pos acel, dirijente se a me. Me ia reconose alga cosa en sua modo de pasea, de regarda a su…

As I watched, the van stopped and one of the back doors popped open. A guy in a DHS uniform – I could spot one from a hundred yards now – stepped out into the street. He had some kind of handheld device, and its blue glow lit his face. He paced back and forth, first scouting my neighbors, making notes on his device, then heading for me. There was something familiar in the way he walked, looking down –

El ia usa un detetador Wi-Fi! Securia Interna ia es xercante nodas de Rede X. Me ia relasa la cortina e ia tufa tra mea sala a mea Xbox. Me ia lasa lo comutada per descarga alga animas divertinte cual un usor de Rede X ia crea sur la parla “no custa tro alta” par la Presidente. Me ia aranca la liador de la mur, ante freta a la fenetra denova per abri la cortina a un frato pico.

He was using a wifinder! The DHS was scouting for Xnet nodes. I let go of the blinds and dove across my room for my Xbox. I’d left it up while I downloaded some cool animations one of the Xnetters had made of the President’s no-price-too-high speech. I yanked the plug out of the wall, then scurried back to the window and cracked the blind a fraction of an inch.

La om ia regarda denova sua detetador a su, paseante de asi a ala ante nosa casa. Pos un plu momento, el ia reentra a sua furgon e ia viaja a via.

The guy was looking down into his wifinder again, walking back and forth in front of our house. A moment later, he got back into his van and drove away.

Me ia estrae mea camera e ia fa tan multe fotos como posible de la furgon e sua antenas. A pos, me ia abri los en un program libre per edita imajes, nomida GIMP, e ia sutrae tota en la foto estra la furgon, eliminante mea strada e cualce cosa cual ta pote identifia me.

I got out my camera and took as many pictures as I could of the van and its antennas. Then I opened them in a free image-editor called The GIMP and edited out everything from the photo except the van, erasing my street and anything that might identify me.

Me ia posta los a Rede X e ia scrive tota cual me ia pote sur la furgones. Sin duta, esta xices xerca Rede X, clar.

I posted them to Xnet and wrote down everything I could about the vans. These guys were definitely looking for the Xnet, I could tell.

Aora me vera no ia pote adormi.

Now I really couldn’t sleep.

La sola posible ia es jua con piratas macinal. On va ave multe juores an a esta ora. La nom vera per la jua de piratas macinal ia es Ruba Enrolada, e lo ia es un projeta de amator, creada par manicas adolesente de roc metal de moria en Suomi. La jua ia es disponable sin custa, e ia ofre egal tan multe diverti como cualce de la servis de $15 per mense como La Universo de Ender, e Aventura de Tera Media, e Prisones de Mundodisco.

Nothing for it but to play wind-up pirates. There’d be lots of players even at this hour. The real name for wind-up pirates was Clockwork Plunder, and it was a hobbyist project that had been created by teenaged death-metal freaks from Finland. It was totally free to play, and offered just as much fun as any of the $15/month services like Ender’s Universe and Middle Earth Quest and Discworld Dungeons.

Me ia reentra a lo, e ala me ia sta, ancora sur la teto de la Colpazombi, espetante ce algun va reenrola me. Me ia odia esta parte de la jua.

I logged back in and there I was, still on the deck of the Zombie Charger, waiting for someone to wind me up. I hated this part of the game.

> He tu

> Hey you

– me ia tape a un pirata pasante.

I typed to a passing pirate.

> Enrola me?

> Wind me up?

El ia pausa e regarda me.

He paused and looked at me.

> perce me?

> y should i?

> Nos es en la mesma ecipo. Plu, tu gania puntos de esperia.

> We’re on the same team. Plus you get experience points.

Tan bobo.

What a jerk.

> Do tu es?

> Where are you located?

> San Francisco

Esta ia comensa pare familiar.

This was starting to feel familiar.

> Do en San Francisco?

> Where in San Francisco?

Me ia deslia. Alga cosa strana ia es aveninte en la jua. Me ia vade a la bloges de Rede X e ia comensa surfa entre los. Me ia pasa ja tra ses o sete ante trova un cosa cual ia jela mea sangue.

I logged out. There was something weird going on in the game. I jumped onto the livejournals and began to crawl from blog to blog. I got through half a dozen before I found something that froze my blood.

Blogores ama cuizes. Tu es cual spesie de hobit? Esce tu es un bon amor? A cual planeta tu es la plu simil? Tu es cual carater de alga filma? Cual es tua tipo emosial? Los completi estas e sua amis completi los e tota compara sua resultas. Un diverti sin peril.

Livejournallers love quizzes. What kind of hobbit are you? Are you a great lover? What planet are you most like? Which character from some movie are you? What’s your emotional type? They fill them in and their friends fill them in and everyone compares their results. Harmless fun.

Ma la cuiz cual ia domina la bloges de Rede X en acel note ia es lo cual ia asusta me, car lo ia es tota no sin peril:

But the quiz that had taken over the blogs of the Xnet that night was what scared me, because it was anything but harmless:

De cual seso tu es?
Tu es en cual anio de scola?
A cual scola tu vade?
Do tu abita en la site?

* What’s your sex
* What grade are you in?
* What school do you go to?
* Where in the city do you live?

La cuizes ia mostra la resultas sur un mapa con spinos colorida per scolas e distritos, e ia ofre recomendas nonimajinosa sur locas per compra pizas e simil.

The quizzes plotted the results on a map with colored pushpins for schools and neighborhoods, and made lame recommendations for places to buy pizza and stuff.

Ma regarda acel demandas. Considera mea respondes:

But look at those questions. Think about my answers:

Mas
12
Liseo Chavez
Colina Potrero

* Male
* 12
* Chavez High
* Potrero Hill

On ia ave sola du persones en tota mea scola ci coresponde a acel profil. E tal en la plu de scolas. Si on ta vole dedui ci es la usores de Rede X, on ta pote usa esta cuizes per trova tota los.

There were only two people in my whole school who matched that profile. Most schools it would be the same. If you wanted to figure out who the Xnetters were, you could use these quizzes to find them all.

Esta ia es ja sufisinte mal, ma plu mal ia es sua implica: algun de Securia Interna usa Rede X per asede nos. Rede X ia es infiltrada par la Departe.

That was bad enough, but what was worse was what it implied: someone from the DHS was using the Xnet to get at us. The Xnet was compromised by the DHS.

Nos ia ave spiores entre nos.

We had spies in our midst.

Me ia dona discos de Rede X a sentos de persones, e los ia fa la mesma. Me ia conose sufisinte bon los a ci me ia dona la discos. Me ia conose multe bon alga de los. Me ia abita en la mesma casa tra tota mea vive, e me ia deveni la ami de multe sentos de persones tra la anios, de los ci ia es en la enfanteria con me, asta los con ci me ia jua futbal, los ci ia fa JuRoVis con me, los ci me ia encontra en discotecas, los ci me ia conose de scola. Mea ecipo de JuReAl ia es mea amis la plu prosima, ma on ia ave multe persones ci me ia conose e fida sufisinte per dona a los un disco de Rede X.

I’d given Xnet discs to hundreds of people, and they’d done the same. I knew the people I gave the discs to pretty well. Some of them I knew very well. I’ve lived in the same house all my life and I’ve made hundreds and hundreds of friends over the years, from people who went to daycare with me to people I played soccer with, people who LARPed with me, people I met clubbing, people I knew from school. My ARG team were my closest friends, but there were plenty of people I knew and trusted enough to hand an Xnet disc to.

Aora me ia nesesa los.

I needed them now.

Me ia velia Jolu par clama sua telefoneta ma deslia pos la tintina prima, a tre veses en serie. Pos un minuto, el ia es enlinia a Rede X e nos ia pote fa un conversa secur. Me ia dirije el a mea blogi sur la radiofurgones, e el ia reveni tota angusada pos un minuto.

I woke Jolu up by ringing his cell phone and hanging up after the first ring, three times in a row. A minute later, he was up on Xnet and we were able to have a secure chat. I pointed him to my blog-post on the radio vans and he came back a minute later all freaked out.

> Tu es serta ce los xerca nos?

> You sure they’re looking for us?

Per responde, me ia envia el a la cuiz.

In response I sent him to the quiz.

> Aiaiai nos es ruinada

> OMG we’re doomed

> No, lo no es tan mal, ma nos nesesa descovre ci nos pote fida

> No it’s not that bad but we need to figure out who we can trust

> Como?

> How?

> Sur esta me ia vole demanda a tu – cuanto persones tu pote completa garantia, pd. fida los asta la fini de la mundo?

> That’s what I wanted to ask you – how many people can you totally vouch for like trust them to the ends of the earth?

> Em, cisa 20 o 30

> Um 20 or 30 or so

> Me vole asembla un grupo de persones estrema fidable e fa un intercambia de claves per un rede de fida

> I want to get a bunch of really trustworthy people together and do a key-exchange web of trust thing

Un rede de fida es un de acel ideas fresca de cripto sur cual me ia leje ma cual me ia proba nunca. Lo ia es un metodo, cuasi noncapas de fali, per serti ce on pote parla a los ci on fida, ma ce no otra person pote escuta secreta. La problem es ce lo obliga un reuni fisical de la persones en la rede, a minima un ves, mera per inisia lo.

Web of trust is one of those cool crypto things that I’d read about but never tried. It was a nearly foolproof way to make sure that you could talk to the people you trusted, but that no one else could listen in. The problem is that it requires you to physically meet with the people in the web at least once, just to get started.

> Me comprende, si. Lo no pare mal. Ma como tu va asembla tota la persones per la suscrive de claves?

> I get it sure. That’s not bad. But how you going to get everyone together for the key-signing?

> Sur esta me ia vole demanda a tu – como nos pote fa lo sin deveni caturada?

> That’s what I wanted to ask you about – how can we do it without getting busted?

Jolu ia tape alga parolas e ia dejeta los, ia tape plu e ia dejeta los.

Jolu typed some words and erased them, typed more and erased them.

> Darryl ta sabe

> Darryl would know

– me ia tape.

I typed.

> Txa, sur tal cosas el ia esele.

> God, this was the stuff he was great at.

Jolu ia tape no cosa. Ultima:

Jolu didn’t type anything. Then,

> Cisa un selebra?

> How about a party?

– el ia tape.

he typed.

> Cisa tota nos ta reuni a alga loca, como adolesentes ci fa un selebra, e tal nos ta ave un esplica preparada si cualcun ta apare per demanda a nos perce nos es ala.

> How about if we all get together somewhere like we’re teenagers having a party and that way we’ll have a ready-made excuse if anyone shows up asking us what we’re doing there?

> Acel ta susede perfeta! Tu es un jenio, Jolu.

> That would totally work! You’re a genius, Jolu.

> Me sabe lo. E tu va saborea esta: me conose ance la bon loca per fa lo

> I know it. And you’re going to love this: I know just where to do it, too

> Do?

> Where?

> Banieria Sutro!

> Sutro baths!