Last Night's Reunion

As a hot July twilight seeped into the heart of Texas, Michael Lewis sat at his desk in his bedroom, staring blankly at his computer screen. His publisher expected a first draft of his next book within a week. Michael hadn’t written a line. He was at a loss for where to start. His mind was more or less a blank slate. He tried to concentrate on what he should write but couldn’t. A sequel to his last book, possibly a new one from scratch? 

Michael’s chest tightened as an insistent impending doom washed over him. He felt in his heart something terrible was going to happen. The world was in turmoil, and a dread washed over him like a warm, turbid sea wave. His heart was filled with regrets, leaving him feeling abandoned.

He thought of his hopes as a young boy and wished he had followed his dreams and taken a different path. Instead, he chose to care for his ailing mother. The challenge of becoming a writer and wallowing in his loneliness weighed on him. 

Strands of his straight chestnut brown hair clung to his sweat-dampened forehead as he tried to push aside his negative thoughts and feelings. Glancing down, he watched a brown recluse spider crawl from behind the monitor. It scurried across the keyboard and onto his hand. Then it dashed up his arm. Its tiny feet danced across the hairs on his arm as it climbed. 

Without a warning, he felt the sting of its bite. He jerked, shook it to the floor, and crushed it with the heel of his shoe before it could scurry away. The sound of the crush signaling its death was clear and distinct. 

“Damn, that hurt,” he said, rubbing his arm and watching the spot begin to swell and turn a rosy pink. “You should have stayed hidden,” he whispered.

It had been a long, wasted day of pointless concentration. Looking toward the bathroom, he saw the remnants of the evening sun. It cast long, eerie shadows across his bedroom floor and onto the far wall. 

Seeking inspiration from the landscape of rolling hills, he sighed, stood, and grasped the bite on his arm. Then he pushed his chair back with his foot. He walked to the window, watching the sun slipping below the horizon, casting shades of peach and purple across the sky.

He froze as he gazed into his backyard, which backed up to the rolling Texas Hill Country. The view offered a picturesque and serene escape into nature. Below, near the old oak tree where a tire swing swayed in the breeze, was a figure he hadn’t seen in decades. 

At first, he thought his weary eyes and desolate heart were deceiving him. Michael’s breath caught in his throat as the figure turned to look up at him and wave. 

He rubbed his eyes and took a second look. Could it be? Was it possible? Yes, it was Jason Cooper, his childhood friend.

Michael and Jason had been inseparable growing up. They shared countless adventures, intimate secrets, and dreams of what would be someday. Jason lived just down the road, and they became friends shortly after Michael and his family moved in. 

They hung out, spent the night, and had fun talking about girls and sex while tossing pillows and laughing until morning. The pair never seemed to run out of something to talk about. But life had taken them in vastly different directions. 

After high school, Jason had to cope with the tragic auto accident that took the life of his sister’s newlywed husband. Then, his father lost his job, and an opportunity in another city came along. He and his parents had no choice but to move, leaving behind their small-town life and close friends. 

As time passed, Michael and Jason drifted apart and lost touch. Michael had often wondered what had become of him, and he never expected to see him again, especially not in his backyard.

Forgetting about his spider bite and book, he hurried downstairs. Once out the back door, his heart pounded with excitement and apprehension. He could see that it was indeed Jason wearing his signature ear-to-ear smile. 

Jason looked a little older, with a few more lines on his face and a hint of gray in his curly blond hair. His smile was Jason’s—no mistake about it. His striking clear blue eyes sparkled in the twilight. They reflected a sense of depth and mystery as he turned, holding his hand on the tree. 

“Jason?” Michael called out, his voice trembling slightly as he jogged to greet him.

“Hey, Mikey,” Jason replied, using the old nickname he had only ever used. Michael paused and gazed at him.

They stood looking at each other before closing the distance between them and embracing in a tight hug. Michael could feel his heart pounding in his ears as they held each other tight, rocking in excitement. Time seemed to stand still as all the memories of their closeness and shared friendship washed over them.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Michael said, looking into Jason’s eyes. “What are you doing here? I mean––”

Jason chuckled. “You’ve not changed. You look exactly as I remembered you. Thoughts of you have weighed on me. I decided I had to come to you. I wasn’t sure if you still lived here, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

Michael asked, “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you come to the front door?”

“I came to the spot where I remember you and me playing together as boys. We were so happy then. It’s a cherished place for me.”

“I’m so glad you’re here. It’s just me now. Since my mom passed away, I’ve been living here alone for a while.” Then, shaking his head in disbelief, looking away and back at Jason, Michael whispered, “Is it you? Are you here with me?” Their eyes met, and a broad smile crept into the corners of Michael’s lips. He was happy to see his old friend again. 

Michael said, “I’ve been right here since you moved away. I could never leave this old place. It holds too many memories. Somehow, I think I might die here.” Wrapping his arm around Jason’s neck, he pulled him close and said, “Come on, buddy, let’s catch up. It’s been too long.” 

Wrapping their arms around each other’s waist, they climbed the hill to the patio. Jason dropped onto one of two wooden Adirondack chairs facing the hills. 

Looking up at Michael, he said, “So, buddy, I see you’ve become a writer and a real author. I wasn’t surprised. You were always a man with passion and a story to tell. I’ve read all of your books. Very impressive. You’ve got quite a knack for detective thrillers with a twist.” He winked.

“Thanks. Most of those tales you and I created while––” He paused, smiled, bounced his brows, and whispered, “playing poker together.”

Jason laughed, “But we were just messing around, boys being boys, pretending to be spies and detectives, playing games together.”

Michael walked to the back patio door, turned around with a twinkle in his eyes, and said, “So, what’ll be your poison, Inspector Cooper?”

“I’ll take a scotch neat, provided you have an expensive one?” He grinned.

“Macallan 40-year-old work for you?” 

“Hell yeah! That’ll do the job. It’s been too long since we tied one-on together. But no poker tonight. That is, until we’re too drunk to know better. Like we did when we were teenagers.” He chuckled, “Guess that last book deal must have been a humdinger for you to afford such good stuff.”

“Yep. And the movie deal wasn’t too bad, either. I’ll be right back.”

Jason brushed back his frosty blond curls when the sliding door clicked shut. He leaned back to look at the sloping hills—the early evening of a Texas summer night had settled in. The katydids filled the warm air with rhythmic chirps, rising and falling with the call of crickets, creating a chorus signaling the end of the day. The sky was rapidly filling with a thousand stars, complemented by the soft glow of a crescent moon.

“Here we go,” Michael said, returning with a pair of glasses in one hand and a bottle under his arm. He closed the sliding door with his elbow. Then, he carefully placed the glasses on the table between them. The Macallan bottle popped as he pulled the cork. He poured two stout drinks. 

Michael sat down in the chair next to Jason, unable to take his eyes off him. He watched Jason closely as he took a glass, raised it to Michael, and whispered, “Here’s to you, buddy, my best and dearest friend.”

Michael took one, and they clinked glasses and sipped the scotch. Michael asked, “Jason, what were we doing back then? I mean, when we were boys? We were buddies, right? I always felt we could lean on each other no matter what. I hate that the world’s taken away the ability for men to be men and be close without putting a label on it.”

Jason turned, smiled, and stared at Michael with the stars and moonlight reflecting from his eyes. Then he said, “The world’s gone to hell, buddy. People think there’s nothing we can do about it. But they’re wrong.”

Michael felt the liquor burn going down. It felt good as he took another drink. Staring forward, he said, “What do you mean?”

“What do you know about AI?” Jason said, staring ahead.

“Not much at all, but they say it’ll make authors obsolete someday. Something I don’t buy.” 

Jason sat up and turned to face Michael. He said, “AI can generate and spread misinformation, create confusion, delay, or mislead decision-makers.” His face grew tense, and his eyes tightened. “It can create deep fake audio, video, and text to impersonate trusted personnel.” Then, easing back, his face softened, he said, “It can easily infiltrate defense systems.”

Michael gulped the rest of his drink, saying, “Damn, you seem to know a lot about it. That sounds scary.”

Jason downed his drink and poured them both another. He whispered, “I do, buddy. I do understand the power of it. That’s why I had to see you.” 

Michael raised his glass to Jason, and he returned the gesture. “How so? How do you know so much about AI?”

Jason smiled and said, “I’ve been in AI for years. I’m an engineering manager for an AI technology firm based in Chicago. I get to travel a lot. I’ve seen the world, Mikey, and it’s pretty screwed up. Humanity desperately needs a total reset.”

“I hear you. We’ll see if that ever comes. It doesn’t look so good for us little folks right now.”

“In good time, my friend,” Jason whispered.

Michael changed the subject, “You remember playing poker and making up detective stories, right? Well, somehow, I thought you were just humoring me back then.” 

“Nah, I enjoyed it as much as you did. That’s why I always let you win. You were never a poker ace, nor did you have a poker face. I just enjoyed watching you smile each time you won a hand. I could see how excited you were,” Jason said. “I got as excited as you.”

Michael looked at the night sky and said, “Well, those times we had together inspired me, and I should have kept in touch. Looking back, I couldn’t have written any of those books without you.” For a while, they sat silently, enjoying each other’s presence. The years had changed them, but their friendship remained strong.

Jason downed his drink and poured another, saying, “Bottom’s up, buddy.” 

Michael downed his drink and let Jason pour him another. “I’m serious; without you, I couldn’t have written a single line.”

Jason turned to Michael, and their eyes locked. He said, “I’m aware. That’s why I’m here. You need some inspiration, and that spider that bit you was a nanobot. You’ll survive, my friend, and not everyone will. The world needs good writers. Without storytellers, the past is lost.” A lump formed in Michael’s throat as he stared into Jason’s eyes. “How did you know a spider bit me?”

Jason reached over and put his hand on Michael’s. “I sent it to you. I need you to pray for the world.” He patted Michael’s hand.

As the effects of the liquor gradually took effect, Michael turned in his chair to face Jason. “What do you mean?” 

“There’s going to be a reset, Mikey. It’s already started as you sleep.”

Michael sat back in his chair, exhaled, and, with a puzzled look, said, “Well, I guess that’s great news. Who’s sleeping? What are you talking about?” He finished his drink and poured them both another.

Jason took a big drink and said, “Well, AI can target a defense system, compromise components, and embed itself at a level undetectable before anyone realizes it.” His voice seemed to fade as he looked up. “Tell me, Mikey, why didn’t you ever get married?”

“I don’t know. Because,” he reasoned.

“Because why?” 

“Because I set my standards too high, or the world got in my way. I thought I was happy being alone.”

“That’s too bad, Mikey.” 

Michael glanced at Jason, puzzled, and took another sip of his drink. Not overthinking his remark, he said, “Could be I still have time to find someone special. You know, to spend the rest of my life with.” He looked at his spider bite, which now had a subtle blue glow beneath his skin.

As the evening turned into late night, Michael realized how much he had missed his friend. They sat together, watching the sky, listening to the chorus of katydids, crickets, and the occasional frog croak. It was as if no time had passed, and they had picked up where they had left off. He felt a sense of warmth and comfort that had been missing from his life for a long time. 

“You know,” Jason said, looking up at the stars, “I thought about reaching out many times, but I always hesitated. Then, tonight, I had to. You were too important to me not to. I’m glad we reconnected.”

Michael nodded. “Me too, Jason. Me too.” He rubbed the tiny light on his arm and stared in disbelief.

What looked to be a million stars filled the night sky. Out of the corner of his eye, Michael noticed two shooting stars falling from the sky. “Jason, look there,” he said, taking his hand from under Jason’s and pointing towards the stars.

He looked over toward Jason, and he wasn’t there.

The bright early morning light glared through the curtains in a flash, casting a colorful glow across the room as Michael gently awakened. His eyelids fluttered open as the remnants of the dream clung to his consciousness. For a brief moment, he was unaware he had been immersed in a dream. He felt warmth and connectedness, yet there was a subtle ache, a bittersweet mix of emotions. Something wasn’t right. The tiny blue light on his arm was pulsating.

A smile that had formed on his lips steadily faded as reality settled in. He turned his head and gazed at the ceiling, the dream replaying in his mind like a cherished memory. He could see Jason’s face and warm, welcoming smile in his mind’s eye.

The next instant, civil defense sirens in nearby Johnson City blared, shattering the peace and tranquility. The cell phone on his nightstand screeched in a horrible tone. Michael grabbed it to see that there was a national alert warning. He sat up at once with his dark hair hanging across his hazel eyes. He quickly brushed it away and surveyed the room in a near-frantic fashion. Spying the remote to his bedroom television, he grabbed it and promptly switched it on.

The President of the United States spoke to the nation from Air Force One. Her face showed fear, her eyes wide, and her voice trembled. “My fellow Americans, please remain calm.” She let out her familiar, nervous giggle. “And please stay indoors. A rogue AI system has taken control of our national defense system and those of our adversaries. We are about to be under a nuclear attack. My goal is––” The screen went blank, the phone went silent, as did the sirens. An eerie silence fell over the room.

Michael scrambled to his feet and made a beeline to look out his bedroom window. In the distance, two bright orange fireballs appeared as two mushroom-shaped clouds formed above them. 

He glanced at his arm where the spider had bitten him. It was glowing a bright red as he watched a massive wall of energy rush across the rolling Texas Hill Country toward him. In a panic, he turned, fell to the floor, and covered his face. 

The tiny light under his skin now glowed white as a nearly invisible protective cocoon engulfed his body. He whispered, “Jason, it was you, wasn’t it?”