53
Savannah, Georgia
March 15th 2035
Stephen Kobak looked out at the waves crashing against the breakwater a hundred feet away and felt a chill deep in his bones, greater than the sou’easter wind bearing down on him. “What do you mean you lost contact with Canada? What happened to Janá?” he demanded.
“I was showing her the synthetic intelligence prototype and the call went dead. All communication with the island is down,” Olav explained.
The smart phone’s 3D screen captured every twisted line in Olav’s face; Kobak could practically feel the man’s fear emanating from his image. Sometimes I wish the Master Bigfoot hadn’t healed me, Kobak thought uncharitably. Life had been in some ways so much easier when he couldn’t empathize with people’s pain. “s**t!” Kobak shouted against the roar o
