by A. G. Riddle
He slipped his shoes off, revealing his scarred feet, then pulled his pants legs up. The scars were thick and mottled, like tree roots growing up his legs.
Conner’s eyes widened.
“I don’t know if it was the pain or the asphyxiation,” Desmond said, “but I passed out. Relief workers found me. Saved me.”
He paused, but Conner said nothing.
“They contacted my next of kin. Orville. He adopted me. Didn’t want to. I assumed all my family was dead. I didn’t learn the truth until a few years ago, when I went back to Australia, to my parents’ grave, and saw that there was no marker for my baby brother. So I searched—and I found him. I had some help. My partner, Yuri Pachenko, helped me buy a hosting company, Yellow Brick Road. And we hired my brother. And I watched in wonder and joy as he transformed. What you’ve accomplished is incredible, Conner.”
Conner leapt to his feet, alarm on his face. “What is this?”
“I wanted to tell you—”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not. You were Conner Hughes before you were adopted.”
“It’s a common name.”
“It’s our name. You’re my brother, Conner.”
“Impossible.”
Desmond leaned forward. “It’s true.”
Conner grimaced. “What do you want from me?”
“Nothing. You’re the only family I have. I just want—”
“Excuse me.” Conner turned, grabbed his bag, and marched out.
Desmond followed. “Conner, wait.”
Conner never turned, or slowed, or looked back. The door slammed as he left.
Desmond sat in the study after that, replaying the scene in his mind, playing out what-ifs, imagining how he could have done things differently.
He called Yuri, whose advice was simply, “Patience, Desmond.”
Desmond tried to be patient. He couldn’t work—his mind was too busy. He tried to read, but failed at that too. He exercised, then went out to the yard. He pulled every weed in sight. Trimmed the bushes. Then the trees.
He didn’t hear the doorbell ring. The sun was setting when the wooden gate to the back yard creaked open. Conner took two steps into the yard and stopped. Desmond walked over to him, covered in grass stains, with dirt on his hands and sweat pouring down his face.
Conner’s tone was flat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to. I thought giving you space was better.”
“You had me promoted—”
“No. I promise you, Conner. That was all you. You earned that. The company, hiring you, it was just a way to get you clean and healthy, to offer you a chance at a better life. The chance that fire took from you.”
Conner glanced away. His expression softened. Desmond thought he saw the start of a tear at the corner of the eye that was pulled by the scarred flesh. “What do we do now?” he whispered.
Desmond shrugged. “I don’t know. I just want to get to know you.”
Conner nodded.
“You hungry?” Desmond asked. “I was gonna order some takeout.”
For the first time that day, Conner smiled. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
They talked into the wee hours of the morning. Told stories about Orville Hughes and Desmond’s escape to San Francisco, about Conner’s youth in the foster homes. There were plenty of dark chapters, and some funny ones. When Conner rose to leave, both men’s eyes were bloodshot from crying. They didn’t shake hands. Conner didn’t call Desmond “Mr. Hughes.” They hugged in the foyer.
“No more secrets,” Conner said.
“I promise you.”
Conner reached for the door.
“Can you come back tomorrow?” Desmond asked.
“Of course.”
“Good. There’s something else I want to tell you about. A project that could be very important to you.”
“Is it important to you?”
“Extremely.”
“What is it?”
“It’s called the Looking Glass.”
Conner stepped out of the van into the motor court. Desmond still lay on the hospital bed in the back of the van, the machines hooked to him, the display updating in real time as the memory unspooled. Soon, Conner would have his brother back. They would sort this out together.
He took the service entrance into the house, walked through the back hall, past the mud room and laundry room, and into the gallery hall. The frame that had held the picture of Desmond and Orville was empty—they had taken the photo, scanned it, and shown it to him a month ago on the Kentaro Maru, hoping it would jog his memory—and the home had been turned upside down by Citium operatives looking for clues about where Desmond had hidden Rendition. It wasn’t here.
Conner looked into the paneled study. Eleven years ago, his life had changed in that room. When he thought about what his brother had done for him, his heart broke. Desmond had tried to save him—had risked his life, burned himself. And then he had rescued him from the darkness his life had once been. He desperately wanted his brother back.
A voice came over his earpiece. “Zero, we’ve got comm chatter. X1s are looking for their troops missing from the checkpoint.”
“On my way.”
Chapter 35
Avery was searching near the mouth of the Cave of Altamira when her sat phone rang. She was surprised it even worked. She answered without looking.
“Price.”
“Ma’am. Austin Avenue location. I have a status update.”
Until now, Avery had heard nothing from the surveillance unit she had posted outside Desmond’s home. Hadn’t expected to, either. She paced to the mouth of the cave, instinctively moving toward better reception. The moon glowed behind the clouded night sky as she leaned against the timber-framed opening.
“Proceed.”
“House was breached five minutes ago.”
“By whom?”
“Unknown. All perps are wearing unmarked body armor.”
“Troop strength?”
“Four paneled vans and two X1 Humvees. We’ve seen five total operatives. Estimate there are between fifteen and thirty total.”
“Gear?”
“Looks like Citium field gear based on the tactical dossier.”
“Current status?”
“The vehicles are in the motor court. Two idling.”
Avery paused. She knew Citium operatives had already searched Desmond’s home. Why were they there? It hit her a second later.
“Ma’am?”
“I’m still here.” Her surveillance team was small—just three special operators, rotating through eight-hour shifts. Not enough to raid the house. Or even cordon it. “Hold position for now. If they leave, you are to follow as discreetly as possible.”
“Copy that.”
She severed the connection and made a call she had dreaded.
David Ward answered on the first ring.
“David—”
“Avery, my God, where are you? What the hell happened after you left Oxford?”
“Lin Shaw didn’t want anyone to know our destination. Listen, McClain is in the US—outside San Francisco.”
“How do you know?”
“I put a team outside Desmond’s house. I think Conner McClain is there—with Desmond—right now.”
“But you don’t know.”
“I know someone is there,” Avery said. “And I can think of only one reason why.”
“A Labyrinth location.”
“Exactly. Desmond is the key to everything. Without Rendition, they’re up the creek.”
“It’s a lot of speculation.”
“I’m right.”
Ward sighed. “What do you want me to do?”
“Raid the house. In force.”
“Have you lost your mind? It could be looters—”
“It’s not. I can feel it.”
David’s tone softened. “I know what he means to you, Avery.”
“It’s not about that.”
“Sure it’s not,” he said sarcastically. His tone became serious again. “We’ll get him back. How about you? Need backup?”
“No. I don’t think we’re on the Citium’s radar. I agree with Lin Shaw for once. The fewer people who know our location, the better. I’ll call you when I have something.”
“And I’ll call you when we have him.”
Through the night vision binoculars, Yuri watched the blond-haired operative slip the phone back inside her body armor and walk back into the cave.
He glanced at the Citium Security operative beside him.
“Begin your assault, Captain.”
Chapter 36
Conner arrived early the next day, and Desmond was glad. They sat for hours, in the paneled study, sharing stories. Despite growing up three thousand miles away from each other, on different continents, with different parents, they found they were a great deal alike. Both strong-willed, driven, and stubborn at times. Both had been hurt. Neither had recovered.
They withheld nothing. Each shared their past unfiltered. To a stranger, they might have altered a detail, provided a reason—or an excuse—for their actions. With each other, they were recklessly honest, certain the other wouldn’t judge and would still love them even knowing everything they had done.
For Desmond, it was an outlet. A person to trust, an anchor in the rough sea of life. Something he hadn’t had since Peyton. He didn’t realize how much he had missed it. He told Conner about killing Dale Epply, about how he discovered that he couldn’t love Peyton the way she loved him, the pain, his depression. Everything.
Finally, Conner asked the question Desmond had been waiting for.
“The Looking Glass—what is it?”
“A solution.”
“To what?”
“To what ails us, brother.”
“Is that all?”
“No. That’s not even the half of it.”
Conner smiled, twisting the scars on the side of his face into a grotesque mountain of mottled flesh, his happiness a sharp contrast to his rough expression. “Wish you’d be a little more cryptic.”
“I recently learned that true knowledge must be earned, not given. Come on, I want to show you something.”
They drove north, out of Menlo Park, through San Mateo and past Daly City, into San Francisco. Desmond followed the same route Yuri had taken: through Golden Gate Park, past the Presidio, and into downtown. He parked in the same deck and rode the elevator up to the suite of condos on the twenty-fifth floor. He nodded at the concierge behind the raised dais, then pushed open the pocket doors to the library.
Conner gazed around the massive three-story library. “I’m surprised you ever left—given your near obsession with reading.”
“I didn’t for a while.” Desmond walked deeper into the room. “But I found what I was looking for.”
“Which was?”
“Answers.”
“Answers to what?”
“Questions that reveal the true nature of our existence, truths that peel back the layers of the modern world, laying reality bare.”
“Okay.”
“These questions are an education unlike any other. And they lead to the Looking Glass. But I can’t give you the answers. You have to find them for yourself. If you’re willing to try.”
“I’ll never stop.”
“Good.”
Desmond closed the doors, and they sat at one of the long tables by the window.
“There are apartments here in the suite,” Desmond said. “You could relocate from Australia. Work from the Rook offices here.”
Conner nodded. “Don’t exactly have anything tying me to Sydney. And … my only family is here.” He smiled. “That’ll take some getting used to: having family.”
“Yeah. It’s a nice change.”
“You’re more important to me than Rook. I could quit. Dedicate my time to what you’re doing here.”
“No. Rook’s part of what we’re building. And you’ve worked hard to get where you are.”
Conner nodded. “Okay. Where do we start?”
“With a question. For us, all roads lead to Australia.” Desmond stood. “Forty-five thousand years ago, something remarkable happened. A tribe of humans made boats and sailed the open sea for hundreds of miles. For the first time in history, humans set foot on the continent of Australia. They were the most advanced people on Earth at that time. Yet when the Dutch arrived in 1606, the indigenous Australians were far behind them technologically. The question is: why? What happened to those people—the first human sailors?”
Desmond watched as Conner worked his way through the stacks and volumes in the library, just as he himself had done a few years earlier. Conner lived in the same apartment he had, and spent every hour outside of work in the library. He peppered Desmond with theories and questions. And as Yuri had done with him, Desmond sat patiently with Conner, guiding and instructing. With each answered question, Desmond provided another.
It took Conner longer to find the answers than it had Desmond, but eighteen months after he moved to San Francisco, Conner arrived at the revelation. The following day, Desmond returned with Yuri at his side.
“Conner, I’d like you to meet someone very special to me. Yuri brought me into the Citium. He led me to you. And the Looking Glass. He’s going to be our partner.”
Yuri took Conner’s hand in his. In that silent moment in the library, a thread seemed to connect the three of them, woven from their shared past of pain and their desire for a better life.
They sat, and Conner spoke first. “Where do we begin?”
“We plan for the future,” Yuri said. “In the coming years, cyber attacks will become common. Governments and large corporations will try to strengthen their defenses in-house. When they fail, I want them to turn to us. To Rook.”
“Sure,” Conner said. “Cybersecurity is a core strength. We host plenty of financial institutions, some international pharma, and insurers. Our uptime is industry-leading. We’ve got it all: generators, fail-over capabilities, disaster recovery.”
“We need to go further,” Yuri said. “Proprietary software and hardware—only available to a select few customers.”
Conner shook his head. “We don’t develop software at the moment.”
Yuri raised an eyebrow at Desmond.
“I’ll dig around,” Desmond said, “look for a security startup we can buy. Capital has been hard to get since the collapse, so we should have attractive options.”
“Good,” Yuri said. “In addition to network security, I want a software solution for natural disasters. An end-to-end solution for emergency response agencies. A way for them to organize and communicate with affected populations.”
“That’s definitely doable,” Conner said. “But I think we’ll need to rebrand. We’re just a web host now. You’re talking about software solutions, services, hardware. And we’ll need to attract scientists working on cutting-edge quantum computing for the Looking Glass component.”
“Fine. I’ll leave all that to you.” To Desmond, Yuri said, “Where are we with Rendition?”
“It’s coming along. Not nearly as fast as I’d like.”
“It never is.”
They met every week after that. They sat around the table in the library, each giving their update on their piece of the Looking Glass.
Conner renamed his business “Rook Quantum Sciences.” Desmond helped him acquire a cybersecurity startup. They made progress bit by bit, the three of them assembling a large puzzle, the pieces slowly falling into place. Months turned to years, and in the summer of 2010, Yuri made a request of Desmond.
“I’d like you to join the board of a Citium company.”
“Sure. Which one?”
“Phaethon Genetics.”
The name sounded familiar. Yuri placed it for him.
“It’s Lin Shaw’s company.”
“What’s the focus?”
“On the surface… identifying the
genetic basis of diseases and sequencing viruses.”
“And under the surface?”
“I suspect only Lin Shaw knows that.”
“What’s my focus there?”
“Figuring out hers.”
Desmond smiled. “I suspect you have better spies than me on your roster.”
“No one she trusts more. And no one I trust more.”
Desmond had never told Yuri about going to Lin Shaw’s home that night, but Yuri’s words confirmed that he already knew. It was just as well. As with Conner, Desmond wanted no secrets between him and his mentor.
He attended the first board meeting at Phaethon the following week. He was intrigued by their work. The potential was incredible. Phaethon was dedicated to identifying the genes and epigenetic triggers that caused disease. Phaethon envisioned a world where diagnoses were made by a combination of symptomatic reporting and DNA sequencing. Remedies could be synthesized at home, like a cup of coffee. Every kitchen would have a 3D medical printer that would dispense a cure as soon as symptoms arose.
He was most affected by Lin Shaw’s passion for the project. In the board room in Menlo Park, she stood in front of the projector, a double helix glowing behind her.
“We are living in a transcendental moment in human history. Our generation can be the first to cure disease. Not one malady, or a few. All diseases. Human history has seen turning points. Agriculture. The Enlightenment. World War II. But none like this. The end of disease will herald a new kind of golden age for humanity.”
She looked directly at Desmond. “And today, we’re one step closer. I’d like you all to welcome Desmond Hughes. Desmond is an investor in predominantly IT startups, some of which I’m sure you’re familiar with.” She read a few of the names. “In particular, I believe Desmond will be very helpful with our growing pains in the data center. He has experience with scaling up big data operations, especially in the scientific space. He was one of the lead developers of SciNet, which I know some of you remember. He’s also a board member of Rook Quantum Sciences—one of the world’s leading ultra-secure web hosts.
