Freedom TM

as you live under our roof, you’ll follow family rules, and family members don’t keep secrets from one another.”
    He gestured to the fenced yard shop across the way. “What is this place, and what the hell are you doing in there?”
    She studied him unflinchingly. “The sheriff told you about this.”
    “Dave cares about you. He’s trying to protect you.”
    She frowned. “He should look after himself. He does know that he has political enemies in St. Louis, right?”
    Fossen suddenly felt as though he didn’t recognize the person standing next to his truck. “Hold it … what?”
    She sighed. “Dad, I don’t think you’ll understand what I’m doing or why.”
    “What you’re saying is you don’t think I’ll
approve
of what you’re doing.”
    “I don’t care if you approve of what I’m doing.”
    “If you’re living in our house—”
    “I can move out, if I need to. I just thought that with Dennis away …”
    He felt suddenly very hurt that she was so unreachable to him.
    She seemed to notice his reaction. “Dad. I’m not saying I want to move out. I’m just saying that what I’m doing is important.”
    “Why can’t you see that I need to know you’re safe? I’m just trying to protect you.”
    “That’s what you don’t understand, Dad. I’m the one protecting
you
. And I promise you, today was the last time Halperin Organix will ever bother the Fossens of Greeley, Iowa.”
    He was confused. “Halperin? How is Halperin involved in this?” He studied her. “Honey, what’s going on in there?”
    “Dad, if I show you, you have to promise not to try to talk me out of it. Because you won’t succeed.”
    “It’s a cult, isn’t it?”
    She laughed out loud. “You used to be upset that I wouldn’t go to church. Now you’re worried I’ve become a fanatic.” On his expression, she shook her head. “No, not a cult.”
    She put on a pair of expensive-looking glasses and nodded her head. “If you’re coming, now’s the time.”
    He got out of the truck and joined her as she crossed the road toward the brightly lit facility. “This is the old lumber yard, isn’t it? Do you need to tell anyone that I’m coming in or …”
    “They already know, Dad. They knew the moment you drove up.”
    As she and Fossen approached, the metal gates at the entrance swung open automatically. Fossen saw half a dozen people in their twenties and thirties moving busily around the yard, stabbing their hands at the air and talking to invisible people—probably on headsets, he guessed. Everyone wore expensive glasses, much like Jenna’s. An unmanned forklift whined past, seemingly under the direction of no one. It deftly lifted a pallet of unmarked crates and drove off into the warehouse.
    “Dad, you need to promise me you won’t bother the people working in here. Quite a few of them are doing critical work, and even though they’re looking right at you, they might not be able to see or hear you.”
    “Why wouldn’t they be able to see me?”
    “Because they’ll be looking into a virtual dimension.” On his uncomprehending look she sighed again. “I told you you wouldn’t understand.”
    She kept walking ahead and he followed, soaking up the bustle of the yard. It seemed odd. He hadn’t recalled this much activity here during the day. Come to think of it, he couldn’t recall a business with this much activity in Greeley in decades. “What is it they do here, exactly?”
    “This is the logistics hub for the Greeley Faction—the local node of a global mesh network powered by a narrow AI agent that’s building a resilient, sustainable, high-technology civilization.”
    He just looked at her. “So …”
    “Just come inside.” She opened a door in the side of the warehouse and they entered a large space lined with tall shelving. Along the farwall stood several computerized milling machines with their operators focused intently on their work. The center of the room looked to be a staging area, bustling with young people, all wearing eyewear and gloves. To the side was a raised platform lined with office chairs and desks where a dozen people were grabbing, pulling, and pushing at invisible objects in the air. They were all speaking to unseen people, as though it were a call center.
    Fossen nodded. “Telemarketers.” He turned to her. “This is one of those network marketing schemes, isn’t it? I’m really disappointed in—”
    “Dad! It’s nothing like that.” She