The hum coming from the power supply filled his head like bee buzz on a too-hot summer day. He lay in bed, sweating while the machine booted up. He had woke up with a head ache. It was a soft symphony of dehydration and methamphetamine residue. Last night lay before him like shards of broken mirror. If he tried to put it back together, it cut him. Only brief moments of color and noise remained. A soft chime sounded from hidden speakers. Carlson’s PC was now booted and online. He sat up. His head swam and he fought back a wave of nausea. Slumped in his chair, Carlson launched Thunderbird.

He had ten new messages. Four of the messages were spam for penis enlargement and discount cosmetic surgery. Five were from people he recognized. The last message was from an anonymous sender, but it didn’t appear to be an advertisement.

Anonymity wasn’t something Carlson liked. It was tough to send anything anonymously. Most governments had outlawed anonymous communications after such technologies had aided terrorist organizations in performing large scale demonstrations. The group that destroyed the Sphinx had cloned and spoofed their cell phones. They had encrypted their laptops and servers. The cost of anonymity was astronomical. Carlson scanned his system with a barrage of antiviral software. Aside from the usual denial of service attempts and key logging trojans, nothing was out of the ordinary. He opened the email.

To: cspot@newprot.org
From: anonymous@anonymous.ano
Subject: Big Bang

Today you will meet someone new. He/she will tell you something that you have never considered. You will not believe them. Believe them. If you do, you will accomplish more than you have ever thought possible. If you don’t, you will not live long enough to regret it.