Robyn's Egg by Mark Souza Read Free Book Online

However, that is no longer possible. These files outline the project objectives and system functionality. You will need this information to complete your work. As a result, you will both be under greater scrutiny. Your movements are likely to be monitored, as well as your communications. These files are never to leave the building. When not in your hands, they are to be locked up.” Berman leaned forward resting his knuckles on the table. Cords of muscle tensed in his forearms under the weight of massive shoulders. “Be careful. We can’t afford to lose anyone else. Are we clear?”
     
     

 
    Chapter 4
     
    Saturday, 15 October
     
    S abbath was a day assigned by Trinity Corp to maximize facility use, and minimize construction costs. For Robyn and Moyer, Sabbath was Saturday, a draw most would consider fortunate. But there was no luck involved. It was the day Robyn’s parents worshiped, and as progeny, they inherited the day so they could all worship together. For Moyer, any other day or any other church would have been better.
    Robyn wore a designer dress she’d bought before losing her programming job, when she could still afford to splurge once in a while. She had switched off the fiber optics so she wouldn’t be seen as too gaudy for church. Moyer wore black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a black two-way jacket worn with the Digi-Soft logo hidden on the inside.
    Outside TrinityTemple 709, Rock of Ages blasted from the speakers so loudly he and Robyn had to shout to hear one another. As they drew nearer, Moyer saw why. A line of Begat protesters wearing heavy, brown robes walked a circle in front of the steps brandishing signs and shouting in unison, This is NOT a House of God , and God’s Word doesn’t need amending , and Trinity Corp does NOT represent God . All the while, hymns rained down from speakers to drown them out, to deny them the net audience they craved. It was a contest of volume and wills, and ultimately it was Moyer who was the loser.
    Begat protested churches in the city on a random rotation. Though it had been months since they last protested Moyer’s church, he was angry; angry at the way it slowed the line, angry at having to bear the blaring hymns Trinity used to block the net browsers. Moyer inserted his fingers in his ears despite drawing disapproving glares.
    A pair of lines stretched back from the church doors and around the block. The queue he and Robyn were in was over two hundred meters long and crept along at a slow shuffle as the previous service filed out.
    The queue on the left was the Speed-Pass for the less devout. It was shorter and zipped right along. Those in the Speed-Pass line pulled up their sleeves to have their holograms scanned. The scan recorded attendance and simultaneously deducted the mandatory tithe.
    The government’s stance was that overt Godlessness would not be tolerated. They enacted the Robertson Laws to prosecute the wicked and slothful. But by the same token, Trinity recognized an opportunity. By creating the Speed-Pass line as a concession to apathy, Trinity didn’t have to build enough churches to service the full population. The Speed-Pass was tolerance made profitable.
    The benefits were a verifiable demonstration of toeing the line by the citizenry, and, of course, a healthy stream of income for Trinity Corp. A weekly scan, a tithe, and a citizen was deemed God-fearing enough for all practical purposes. Speed-Pass worked so well, future church construction was put on hold. It was simple economics, maximizing profits while minimizing expenditures. Once the scanner light pulsed green, those in the Speed-Pass turned back down the steps for home, their legal obligation satisfied.
    People from the Speed-Pass line hustled past on their way to the tube. Moyer was envious. He wished he was among them. If not for his in-laws, the LaBenzes, he would already be on his way home.
    Church was an opportunity for Robyn to spend time with her parents each week.