Part 18 - May 21 - Coleman Towers - Boston

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Veer had spent the rest of the afternoon and into the night trying to discover what had gone wrong. Coleman’s contribution to the search was to pace the floor, producing a constant barrage of expletives while Veer searched through line after line of code.

Veer looked at the blank chronometer — it had to be near midnight. Having exhausted his search for a solution, he pushed back from the console and sighed. “I have to get something to eat.”

Coleman found a wrench and smashed the front glass of a vending machine to get to the snacks inside, then threw half a dozen packages on the desk in front of the computer tech. “There,” he growled, “get back to work,” and he walked away.

Veer chewed on the oversweetened granola bar as he stood up and walked over to lean against a window. They had moved up to the sixth floor, where the building’s main server room was located. He watched the streets below as he chewed the dry, crumbly bar. He stood up straighter and peered down at the street far below — there were people down there. “Mr. Coleman, come quickly. There is someone out there, alive,” he called.

Coleman stood up from where he had been eating some of the snack food he had taken from the vending machine. He strolled over to look out the window as two groups of what appeared to be very young men stealthily approached each other from opposite ends of the street.

Veer thought their manner strange: each group approached the other by dashing from car to car. It appeared as if the two groups were trying to outmaneuver each other, when suddenly one group leaped out of hiding and attacked. Both groups started fighting in the middle of the street.

Veer watched, horrified by the scene. The two groups were armed with knives, bats, and random tools, which inflicted gruesome carnage. Neither group showed any indication of retreating from the other. The battle waged on until one group, reduced to only a few members, finally turned and ran. Veer turned away from the window; he felt sick. All his plans to stop this kind of madness had failed. He had seen news reports of teens rioting, but the young people out there in the street had just increased their violence to a whole new level. Had his program caused this? Had something backfired and made the violence worse?

He ran from the room as he gagged on the food bar now being ejected from his stomach. He managed to reach the trash can as he barged into the men’s room, retching up the rest of the granola bar. He stood there gripping the sides of the trash can, supporting himself as he continued to gag.

When Veer’s stomach finally calmed down, he washed his face and rinsed out his mouth. Reluctantly, he returned to the main server room to find Coleman still leaning against the window, eating his snacks as if nothing had happened.

Coleman did not turn to look at Veer but continued to watch the street below. He appeared to be unmoved by the violence. “I don’t think we’d be safe on the streets with those kids running around,” he remarked dryly. Then he turned to face Veer. “Did your program do that?” he snapped, pointing out the window.

“I don’t know,” Veer moaned as he walked back into the computer station.

“Well! What do you know?” Coleman turned to glare at Veer. “You said that program would only target the public’s desire to purchase one product. Then you were going to use that program to calm these little bastards down!”

Veer looked up at Coleman. “My program only sent out the subliminal commands to purchase the target product. This can’t be happening.”

“Well, you better look again — because that”—he stabbed his finger at the street below—“is happening!” Coleman yelled.