Entanglement by Gregg Braden Read Free Book Online Page A

since he’d enlisted. Jack still couldn’t get over the power of seeing his brother’s living, breathing face, talking and laughing in real time, on another continent, with the sound of mortar exploding behind him.
    Once he’d asked Charlie just to leave Skype on, even if he couldn’t stay on it himself, and for an hour or so, Jack sat listening to the sounds of a marine’s life halfway around the world. It sounded completely different from his California existence. There were coughs and laughs and snippets of unintelligible conversation. There was an alarm, then a distant explosion; there was the beeping of Skype alerts and cell phone rings. He found it all fascinating—listening in to the most exotic and distant locale—a place where his brother was bound to remain without him.
    On Skype tonight, Charlie’s name was grayed out; he wasn’t online. Jack smacked his hand against the steering wheel. He scrolled through other names on the Skype list, and found Ernesto Olveiros, one of Charlie’s closest friends. Jack and Ernesto had talked several times before when he couldn’t get ahold of Charlie. He was frequently on Skype, trying to call his family in Missouri. Besides that, he was friendly and eager to talk to Jack about Charlie—or anything else.
    Jack was glad to find anyone who was in close proximity to his brother.
    He clicked on Ernesto’s name, and in a moment, his face appeared on the screen. The connection wasn’t great; the image kept freezing, but Jack was still thrilled.
    â€œHey, hippie. How’s slacker-ass commie life treating you?” Ernesto wore desert fatigues, a T-shirt, and sunglasses pushed back on his head. Charlie had told him that Ernesto had his own family, with two small kids, but he looked like a kid himself to Jack.
    â€œWhere’s Charlie?”
    â€œMade any hemp blankets lately?”
    â€œC’mon, man, where is he? Where are you guys?”
    â€œI can’t tell you that, dude. You know that.”
    The connection suddenly dropped. Ernesto’s face froze.
    The rain pounded against the hood of the car. The Wi-Fi bars indicated a weak signal, and Jack tried holding the laptop up in the air toward the house. The connection became only a little stronger. Jack quickly slapped the car into gear and coasted forward a bit, to get more in line with the house.
    â€œErnesto? Can you hear me?”
    Ernesto’s face became unfrozen, and Jack barely heard him say, “I can’t hear you. It’s not a very …” He faded out again.
    â€œIs Charlie there? Is he okay?”
    â€œHe’s fine … call back.”
    The words and images were skipping, then settling.
    â€œAre you guys still in Kandahar? Is his unit out on a mission right now?”
    Ernesto shifted uncomfortably. “Yes. See, I shouldn’t have even told you that. What’s with the third degree, dog?”
    â€œErnesto, please, it’s important.”
    â€œWell, he’s not anywhere where he can have a conversation right now. But they gotta be back by 1500 hours, 2:30 A.M. on your side. If you wanna wait up—”
    â€œTell him to Skype me the second he’s back, okay? I’m going to try to stay online.”
    â€œCan’t hear you.”
    â€œTell him to call me!” Jack rubbed his temple.
    â€œWhat’s up with you, man?”
    Even across the world, it must have been apparent that he was overwrought.
    â€œI’m going to try to wait online, all right? I’ll try to stay on Skype until he’s back.”
    Ernesto leaned closer to the camera. “You in a car?”
    Jack ignored the question. “If he gets back sooner, make sure he talks to me.”
    Ernesto’s words and image skipped, then settled.
    Jack put his hand to his head; something was happening again. He looked up at the rearview mirror into his own eyes. They glowed, and a strange halo of sparkling lights