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could send
faster than light signals to any point in the universe. For some
unknown reason, I had a strong desire to make contact with alien
life. Of course, I know now what motivated me, but at the time, I
just wanted to see if there was anybody out there.
    Clive and I settled in to our new lives, each
of us spending much of our time on our own projects. We didn’t play
The Show anymore, Clive telling me he already knew everything he
needed to know.
    Six months after we moved in, Canadian
extremists killed Clive's father while he was visiting Atlanta.
    Canadian extremism had been a fairly recent
phenomenon, Canadian terrorists attacking targets across the globe,
but mostly in the United States. Nobody really understood what had
pissed off the Canadians, their transition from a peace loving,
open society into a belligerent, brooding one happening sometime
around the time Clive and I started at Baker.
    The first documented act of terrorism
committed by the Canadians was the simultaneous destruction of a
number of sugar cane plantations down in Florida. Those responsible
were captured. They claimed the only true sweetener that should be
used was maple syrup, an odd twist on terrorism.
    After that there were several attacks on corn
syrup manufacturers. Many were killed in these attacks, and the
Canadians who were captured all repeated the same thing, that the
only true sweetener that should be used was maple syrup.
    After that, the Canadians started attacking
other targets, now not limiting themselves to targets in the United
States. Places where sugar cane was grown were hardest hit. Those
places included Brazil, India, China, Mexico, Australia, Thailand,
and Pakistan, all major sugar cane producers.
    Despite the attacks, the sugar industry was
able to stay afloat, having put security measures in place to
protect crops. The Canadians adapted to this and started targeting
places that sold products that contained sugar, like grocery
stores, cake shops, candy stores, and so on.
    Officials in the Canadian government
disavowed all knowledge of the attacks and took no responsibility
for them, and, for the most part, the world bought into the idea
that some fringe part of Canadian society was behind this
madness.
    The attacks stopped six years after they
began, after the thirty-seventh attack, an attack on a donut shop
in Peoria, Illinois. Nobody knew why the Canadians had stopped, and
everyone wondered if they were planning something big.
    Two years later, terrorists attacked a
wellness facility outside of San Francisco. Three more wellness
facilities were attacked soon after. However, the culprits were not
apprehended. However, pretty much everyone on Earth believed
Canadians were responsible.
    Clive’s father had been visiting a wellness
facility in downtown Atlanta when a man wielding an assault rifle
stormed in and killed thirty-seven people. The gunman, later
identified as a Canadian, then took his own life.
    Following that, Clive developed an intense
hatred for Canadians, and started a blog that chronicled the rise
of Canadian extremism. He wrote countless diatribes and
indictments. Eventually, the press heard about Clive’s blog and
invitations for appearances on a variety of television and radio
shows started coming in. He refused all offers, hating the press
almost as much as he hated Canadians.
    Clive started drinking heavily, a regular
patron at the local bar. I can’t count the number of times someone
had dragged him home after one of his benders. When he wasn’t
drinking, he spent his time writing computer viruses and deploying
them on Canadian computers, viruses that would wreak havoc on the
infected hosts, often wiping out all of their data.
    Clive hadn’t lost it completely, however. He
still had a sense of humor. Sometimes, he would write viruses that
did silly things and infect my computer with them. In response, I
learned to write viruses and sent no small number of them his
way.
    Meanwhile, I had made great