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She leaned back in her chair and sipped from her bottle of water. Her throat was dry after talking on air for the past six hours. Cindy was an on-air personality for station WLRY in Seattle, and even though she was eager to head out, she knew enough to take a moment after every show to appreciate the job she had. Nobody had a career as fun as hers; she got to spend six hours a day laughing, talking to listeners, debating with guests, and basically having a wonderful time just goofing off. That always made her sit and say a silent thank you to whatever gods had arranged for her to have such a fucking awesome job.

It didn’t hurt that she was paid $120,000 per year for the privilege. She never told producer Ryan that she’d do the job for a quarter of that.

She pushed her shoulder-length blonde hair back behind her head and tied it into a quick pony, then she stood, stretched, and grabbed her hand bag and checked her desk one last time for anything she needed to take care of. There were a couple of callers on hold, but Ryan would take care of them. She did have limits, and one of them was that once the show was finished, so was she. Ryan batted clean-up and always talked to anybody who called too late to get Cindy.

She left the broadcast booth and gave Ryan a two-finger salute as she walked by.

“Hey,” he called. “Nice show. I really liked how you handled that scientist.”

She smiled. She’d liked that too. The astronomer was a great guest, talking about a new comet that was visible with the naked eye, but it didn’t take long to get the skinny on that, so Cindy started asking him random questions that had nothing to do with the comet.

He started to laugh at the questions, but he was game and gave her some good material.

What’s the last book you read?
Green Eggs and Ham.

What’s your favorite color?
Green. Especially green eggs.

Do you have pets?
Yes, I have a pot-bellied pig that I’m hoping will make nice ham one day.

Are you single?
Yes.

Oh! And are you available?
Very!

Where would some pretty young thing find you if she wanted to find out more?
She could subscribe to my newsletter at the very low rate of only $6.99 per month.

After every answer, Cindy let out that long, loud laugh that was her trademark. Everybody in Seattle knew that laugh, and it was one of the best parts of being a commuter on the drive home. She always cheered everybody up.

Cindy McKay was one of the most well-liked people in the Pacific Northwest, but few people would recognize her if they passed her on the street. She wasn’t exactly hiding or anything, but she didn’t send out publicity photos and wouldn’t allow her image on the WLRY website. She didn’t do charity events or appear as a guest on TV shows.

Neither did she share her last name with her devoted audience. To them she was just Cin. She stole the idea from the singer Cher, whose real first name was Cherilyn. Everybody in the city knew Cindy’s trademark phrase when a listener called in to her. “This is your favorite Cin! What’s on your mind?”

The radio station got only a few scattered questions about their mysterious host, mostly because she seemed so open and likable when on the air that most people didn’t happen to notice they didn’t know her last name or have a clue what she looked like.

Some listeners had their own vision of her appearance. Once in a while, she’d get an e-mail with various degrees of sexual innuendo tossed into vivid (but totally inaccurate) descriptions of herself. She never replied to any of the e-mails. She couldn’t help but read them, though—her one concession to vanity.

When the occasional phone-in guest asked about her life off-radio, she had a stock answer, “I just like leaving my job at 7:00 p.m., the same way you do at the end of your working day. After that I’m pretty much worn out and very, very boring.” Then she’d move on to a series of jokes designed to leave the topic way behind.

In truth there was one important reason she hid herself from her fans: her ten-year-old daughter, Avril. She was the part of Cindy’s life that she loved the most and the part she most feared losing. She’d never allow that, and one of the ways that protective nature manifested itself was to strip her personal life from her on-air show. Only a handful of her closest friends and neighbors knew the truth, and they mostly didn’t seem to care.

A few moments had passed while she gathered her purse and sweater from a nearby desk drawer.

“Up to anything tonight, Ryan?”

He was preoccupied with his paperwork, so Cindy walked up close and pressed her face next to his, so their noses were only two inches apart. He jumped back in surprise.

“Jesus, what are you doing?”

“Just getting your attention. I asked if you were up to anything tonight.”

He thought for a moment. “Thursday, right? Nah, just hanging. I might grab something off Netflix. You?”

“Boring old night for me, too. Probably be asleep by ten.”

She punched him in the shoulder and promised to be in a bit earlier than normal the next day. Ryan wanted to prep her about one of the guests she’d be interviewing.

Cindy didn’t really notice that she’d lied to him about her evening plans. It was just habit to keep her personal life separate, even when she knew she could trust Ryan more than just about anybody.

* * *

Maria de Fatima Delgado was Cindy McKay’s best friend. She was a dark-skinned Portuguese woman who had moved to Washington State fifteen years earlier from a small island in the Azores called Terceira. She was a couple of years younger than Cindy, 33 to Cindy’s 35. They had originally met at Starbucks in Pike Place Mall, each waiting for a non-fat Cappuccino, and they happened to grab for the same drink when it was placed on the bar. They pulled their hands back as if caught stealing cookies from Mom’s jar and laughed. A second drink appeared seconds later and they both selected one, realizing in those few seconds that they felt a connection and didn’t want to let it go just because they each had a hot drink in their hands. They talked about nothing consequential as they left the store out to the street and walked toward Puget Sound. They talked for a half-hour that day. Maria soon gave up drinking coffee forever, never really acquiring a taste for it, but their friendship never waned.

Tonight they met at the Star Quarter, a quiet bar that had opened up in that same Pike Place Mall. This one was inside the long strip of stores that made up one of the most popular tourist traps in the city, and they sat in a quiet corner where the sounds from the horribly off-tune band twanged a little less noisily than the rest of the bar.

It was the first time in six months the two friends had met.

They toasted their glasses of a Merlot that Maria had been raving about and took a sip. Cindy couldn’t really tell good wine from bad wine. All she could really say is that it was red and it didn’t seem bitter. In her mind, that made for a good wine.

“So, how did you get out?” asked Maria.

Cindy almost made a joke, but Maria was the one person in the world she didn’t bullshit. At least not much. She was the only one who knew part of the truth behind the fake, bubbly personality she wore to work and that trailed along back home with her.

Maria’s eyes stared at her, almost accusingly, daring her to hide the truth. Cindy knew she could never do that.

“He can’t keep me locked up forever.”

Cindy felt a pathetic tone to her words, but she couldn’t help it.

“But why tonight?”

“Maybe because July 4
th
is only two days away? Maybe because he could use the time himself for something he doesn’t want to share with me? Maybe he feels sorry for me sometimes?”

She paused and tried to figure out which of those ideas she might believe was true.

“I have no fucking clue, to be honest. I just was grateful and didn’t want to question anything.”

“Yeah.” Maria held up her glass. “Here’s to the fourth bringing you a little bit of your own independence back, babe.”

Cindy laughed and clinked glasses, knowing that freedom had been on her mind a lot the past couple of weeks.

“So . . .” She started to say what was on her mind but couldn’t figure out how to start.

“So . . . ?” parroted Maria.

“See, I interviewed this guy last week. Ryan found him and it was like the weirdest thing.”

“Yeah? Weird how? Weird kinky? Cause I could get into that, you know.”

Cindy didn’t like lying to her friend, but she felt embarrassed about the truth. It was she who had asked Ryan to book the guy onto her show. She had chatted to a stranger on the Internet recently and she wanted to know more. She wanted to know what was possible.

“Weird like he knew about things that the rest of us never hear a damned thing about. Something he called the deep web. It’s stuff on the Internet that nobody really knows how to find.”

“Like what?”

“Well, you know how Google knows everything right? If you ever want to find out about the most obscure thing, you can search and get back a ridiculous number of hits. He actually asked me on-air to search for ‘snow sandals.’ Who the fuck has ever heard of snow sandals? Anyhow, I did it and got back 26,000 hits.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You can find anything on the Internet.”

“But it turns out you can’t.”

Cindy stopped when she realized her wine glass was empty. She waved to the waitress who was slouched behind the bar, bored with having so few customers.

“What can’t you find?” asked Maria.

“There’s 500 times more stuff out there on the Internet than Google knows about. Five freaking hundred!”

“Get out! That’s ridiculous.”

“Most of it is incredibly boring, like corporate finances and shit like that. But there’s other things, dark things, dangerous things. It was just an amazing interview.”

“Who was this guy?”

“From the university. Doctor Rusty Moore.”

Maria shrugged. Cindy wasn’t surprised, because she’d never heard of the guy before, either.

The waitress brought over two fresh glasses of the Merlot and took away the old ones.

“Wish I could still smoke in here,” said Maria. “I liked the good old days.”

“You haven’t smoked in years.”

“Still liked the freedom to do it if I wanted.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“So what are these dark things you found out about?”

Cindy smiled. “He didn’t give me enough details. We ran out of time, but that’s what I want to find out.”

* * *

They stayed out till almost midnight, Cindy feeling
choice
and
freedom
and
relief
wash over her like a morning shower, and she loved it. She didn’t want it to end, even when Maria started yawning.

Cindy stared at Maria, wanting to say something—anything—that would keep the night going. She knew she could do it. She could switch the chat back to the deep web and give some of the hints that she’d heard yesterday. She was hesitating, though, and she wasn’t sure why. Partly it was because she wanted to experience it herself before talking about it.

And what better time?

“You really gotta go, girlfriend?”

Maria yawned again and nodded. She swallowed the last drops of wine in her glass and said, “You need me, you call. You know I’ll be there.”

“I do know.”

Cindy tried to smile, but it was forced. She tried harder, not wanting to make Maria feel guilty. When that didn’t work, she decided it was just time to get moving.

“I’ll e-mail you, babe.”

The two girls hugged and started toward the exit. Suddenly, Maria stopped and turned to Cindy.

“Something’s wrong. More than normal. You want to talk? Really talk?”

Cindy blinked away tears.

“God, we’ve been at it four hours. I’m tired, too, you know.”

Cindy wanted to hug Maria, hold her tightly and tell her everything that was on her mind, but she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair.

“You get the first cab. You’ve got work in the morning. I get to snooze till long after you’re adding up debits and credits or whatever the fuck you do.”

Maria laughed. “Well, really, if you need to talk, you know I’m there.”

“I know.” Now Cindy smiled for real. Two taxis arrived soon after and the friends said good-night one last time.

* * *

Cindy’s cab dropped her off at home a little after 12:30. She thought she’d be dead tired after being out so much later than normal, but she actually felt invigorated.

She wanted to find out the secrets that the Internet had been hiding from her. Talking about the deep web with Maria had excited her. Part of her wanted more,

(freedom)

more knowledge, more understanding of what really was out there. It reminded her vaguely of some of the old-style NASA space missions that sent robotic probes to the outer planets of the solar system, returning incredible photographs of Jupiter and Saturn. When she saw those images, she gazed in fascination, knowing that this was the first time in human history people could see close-ups of planets a billion miles away. That night, she walked outside after dark and stared up at the sky, just marveling at what might be possible.