No physical copies of Dr. Covey Strong’s latest book appeared at this particular location. Instead, most people used their brain chips to see what he talked about. This high tech way of promoting books seemed to be a luxury to the doctor. No longer did he have to fight for space on bookshelves. The signatures had been digitized as well. Moments of this nature only satisfied the book lover who actually wanted to see him in the flesh. That flesh had been covered in a tapered midnight blue suit and white dress shirt with no tie. His diamond encrusted pinky ring glittered in the hazy light.

Lines of those wanting to meet a Founder and author of financial and economic tomes stretched around the Smoke & Heard bookstore and marijuana outpost. Dr. Strong never indulged but he allowed his audience to partake. A mellowness and a soft glow from the lights helped to create an even, enchanting mood. 

“With that said, I will open the floor for questions,” Dr. Strong announced to the crowd. Applause reverberated from around the room. A few shouts and a whistle like a clarion rose up around the space. 

“Thank you, thank you. You’ve lifted my spirits. Either that or I’m catching contact,” laughter shot up from the crowd. Dr. Strong surveyed the room.

An organizer named Spike Elger instructed, “Please limit your questions to just questions. Speak directly into the mic and you will have your query answered.” A queue of questioners came to the microphone at the front and center of the stage. A woman the color of alabaster stepped forth holding a copy of his book she had ordered online. She sported a pert lavender suit and an olive green brooch and gold chain that stretched from her neck to her midsection.

“Yes, Miss,” Dr. Strong acknowledged her.

“Thank you, Dr. Strong. I’ve read all of your books and anticipate this latest addition to your growing library.”

“Questions only, please,” Elger repeated.

“No, this woman has supported me. This one’s alright!” Dr. Strong responded to more laughter and applause.

“Okay, what was the most challenging part of being the chief architect of the Declaration 3?”

“It was discovering my fellow writers. I wanted to see if I could assemble the right minds to craft this document. We were almost ragtag. A high school dropout, then a millionaire; A biochemist with a doctorate just about to be a billionaire; and a crypto wizard who’d made billions himself all weighed in the balance of my mind. Then I came in with my modest fortune and transformed Delaware into a place where its future would outshine its past. It proved to be so difficult that it became easy.”

“Thank you,” the woman almost sighed. As if wings sprouted from her back, she felt lighter and almost flew around the room with the knowledge of having her question answered. A man who looked inky black stepped to the microphone now. He wore a tan colored polo shirt that had been pressed and trousers with funky logos printed throughout.

“With all of this talk about people pouring into Smartystan, what is your opinion on people wanting to come to this nation-state?”

“I think it’s beautiful.” Applause rose up. A few jeers had been drowned out by the uproarious clapping.

“Now, I only say that because it is happening and will happen. Notice, no one is flocking to the failed states. They want to come here to sup up the sweet taste of liberty. That is what the four of us set out to do. We wanted to create an environment based on an original document that had been supplied by the original Founding Fathers of the United States and the novel of the most superb mind in over two millennia. So, for anyone with some skillset no matter how small or great, they can cross the state lines.”

Another man approached the microphone. This light-skinned man grabbed a hold of the microphone. He wore all black with military style boots polished to a high gloss.

“Dr. Strong, isn’t it true that with the establishment of New Delaware, you have helped to create a cesspool of lies and deceit?” Boos and murmurs bubbled up to the surface at this question.

“It’s alright. I can answer that. No.”

The man, enraged then charged the deis where Dr. Strong sat. Security could not contain him. Dr. Strong rose up and confronted the man. A knife flashed in the low lights. Gasps emanated from the crowd.

He came prepared. His military memory kicked in and he grabbed for the knife handle, cutting his hand in the process. Small rivulets of blood streaked his white cuff. He, however, continued to tussle with the assailant. The two men struck the ground. The struggle continued for a brief amount of time. The audience remained shocked, this commotion ruined the high for many. By putting him into a chokehold and wresting the knife, the man fought for his life but the knife plunged into his chest with supreme force meeting self-defense with the start of force. Dr. Strong in all his sixty years had prevailed. The attacker slumped like a pile of clothing for the cleaners.

Security rushed to aid Dr. Strong. They ushered him offstage into the back of the building. 

Elger stood at the center of the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, this concludes our evening. We apologize that you had to witness such a flagrant and harmful display. Dr. Strong will be okay. We again apologize for any inconvenience but we will not allow any form of the start of force against our guests. Thank you.”

Dr. Strong had been rushed to a green room where a physician looked at his hand. Dr. Horatio Andino looked over his patient.

“He just missed an artery. I can give you some pain medicine and you’ll be fine. Hell of a job you did up there.”

“I think you should still go to the hospital for observation,” Dr. Andino informed his patient.

Now in medical garb, Dr. Strong looked at a message from Monica II. She had seen the entire event played out in front of her. She felt powerless in her capacity to safeguard her man.

“I’m so sorry. I wanted to do more. I knew you wouldn’t have wanted to strike him down, even in self-defense, but you ended his life n expert fashion.”

“I know. I have that wired into me as well, my love. Not by being a creation like you, but by my own programming as an officer in the US armed forces, my love.”

Visitors came to Dr. Strong’s bedside. Belllinda, Dr. Frampton, and Go all stood by him. Like valiant sentries unafraid of hurt, harm, or hazard, they stood tall.

“All of you don’t have to be here,” Dr. Strong announced with a sly grin. His bandaged hand already began to heal.

“Of course we have to be here,” Bellinda protested. “You’re our guy, Covey.”

“Anything, I can create a code for how fast you can get back in action, sir,” Go chimed. 

“It’s only right that we’re here,” Dr. Frampton intoned. “We’ve already identified the man. A Caron Crooks. Twenty-three-years-old. He was from New Jersey. He had tried to come over legally then illegally and finally broke through the barriers,” she explained.

Dr. Strong looked into all of their faces. He found no trace of treacle or cloying sentiment or fawning, only obeisance. 

“We’re going to stay until you get out of here,” Bellinda mentioned. 

Dr. Frampton looked around the comfortable little nook. The bed seemed comfortable and the lights had been adjusted to Dr. Strong’s liking. The walls looked bluish and she had felt that the synth nurses fulfilled their roles with aplomb.

“No!” They all thundered with a low rumble.

“Alright, suit yourselves. I’m probably not going to be released until tomorrow.” He looked at his hand. “Just another battle scar.”

“It doesn’t matter if it was a flesh wound. This was an attack on your life. We cannot just sit down on that fact. We’ll stand for however long it takes.”

“Hello, Founders. I’m sorry we had to meet again on these terms but we’ve got someone here who lives up to his name.” The physician flashed an ivory smile. He then turned to his patient. “You’re a fighter. All you have to do is rest up and enjoy your company. The place where the knife struck only sliced but did not puncture. In the grand scheme of things you just got a helluva papercut.” He then turned to  the other Founders. “I’m sure each of your brainchips are tuned to the news. They already dispensed with misinformation. We’re trying to make this real to everyone.”

“Thank you, Horatio,” They announced in unison.

“It’s my honor to serve all of you. I just never counted on this being the moment where we’d get together again.” He walked out of the room.

A silence, heavy and thick, fell over the space. They didn’t even check their brainchips given the knowledge Dr. Andino had just imparted. It didn’t seem uncomfortable. The four of them could assemble and not say a word and still be on one accord. Then Dr. Frampton spoke.

“Even in our age of digitization, there is still the fact we’re human beings. Sure we can create synths and learned machines and draw up code that could facilitate new possibilities, but that is all we can do. We can even live to two hundred with our advancements. It doesn’t mean we’re indestructible.”

“What are you saying, Keij’?” Dr. Strong asked. He folded his arms and winced only slightly.

“I’m talking about the fact we can be touched, as you now know.”

“She’s right, Covey,” Bellinda championed her friend and co-CEO. “It only takes one nutjob out there to disrupt our lives.”

“We’re not going to let that happen though, are we?” Go asked Dr. Strong.

“You see me lying here, don’t you?” Small laughs and smiles captured the moment.

“What can we do to beef up your security or make you feel safer?” Bellinda wondered.

“Nothing. I want whatever is going to happen to me happen. As you saw in my way, I’d like to think I neutralized the situation. I can handle my own. And if I can’t, well then they’ve got the best of me.”

“But it doesn’t have to be this way,” Go argued. “Sir, all we have to do is create a network––”

“I’m not into all of that and you know it. I’ll continue to guide my life on my own terms. You saw how lax the security was at the weed spot. It’s not up to them to declare what my life should be like. I’ll put in my own functions. I’ll do my own thing. If no one is there to protect me, then that’s just my time. It’s only rational that I address this.”

“We just want to ensure your safety. After the break in, you had wanted to see if you could have your home guarded,” Dr. Frampton recalled. Then, some footsteps approached. They seemed graceful and mechanical all at the same time. Monica II entered the room. The three Founders made room for the synth to get closer to Dr. Strong.

Dr. Strong raised the bed some more. “I was wondering when you would get here. The Founders remained planted if not a bit distant from the couple.

“You were all I thought about up there,” Dr. Strong admitted. The other Founders didn’t take this as an affront. They knew of the affection that their leader possessed for his synth. 

“I’m just glad you were not hurt too badly,” Monica II mentioned.

“No, not too much damage for this body. If someone doesn’t pull my cards too early, I’ve got another sixty or more years left in me,” Dr. Strong replied.

Dr. Frampton flashed a small smile. It was like an answer to a prayer from the unknown and unknowable. 

Chintan Jani

Smartystan

In the Name of the Blood 

No physical copies of Dr. Covey Strong’s latest book appeared at this particular location. Instead, most people used their brain chips to see what he talked about. This high tech way of promoting books seemed to be a luxury to the doctor. No longer did he have to fight for space on bookshelves. The signatures had been digitized as well. Moments of this nature only satisfied the book lover who actually wanted to see him in the flesh. That flesh had been covered in a tapered midnight blue suit and white dress shirt with no tie. His diamond encrusted pinky ring glittered in the hazy light.



Smartystan

In the Name of the Blood

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Skyler Saunders

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Businesswoman Chapter 244

Smartystan

In the Name of the Blood

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Businesswoman Chapter 244

This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of Skyler Saunders