Catalyst

by S. J. Kincaid

  Tom swallowed hard. “You see me?”

  “Yes.” She bit her lip. “I tweaked my neural processor after Frayne so I wouldn’t miss people walking near me in stealth mode. Blackburn told us he had you, that you’d be coming back. I thought . . . I was afraid it wasn’t going to happen.”

  For a moment, they stared at each other awkwardly, and then Wyatt plowed forward and flung her arms around him. She’d lost weight, giving her the sharp, alert look of some hunted animal. And suddenly she was sobbing, and Tom pulled her closer, fiercely glad to see her again.

  The familiarity of Wyatt banished the last of those twisted recollections Vengerov had programmed for him. His heart ached. He’d missed her. God, he’d missed them all so much.

  “I couldn’t find you. I’m so sorry. We looked everywhere, Tom. We hacked—”

  “I know. It’s okay.”

  “I tried. I’m so sorry, I really tried . . .”

  “It’s okay.” He kissed her head. “Come on, it’s okay.” It was strange how normal he felt suddenly, trying to calm Wyatt, like he’d stepped back into his own skin for the first time in so long. He felt stronger, more in control, when he pulled back, trying to show her that he was okay, that he was happy to see her. “You’re in CamCo now, huh? Who’s sponsoring you?”

  “What does that matter?”

  “It matters to me. Tell me.”

  “Nobridis.”

  “Congratulations!”

  “Oh, it doesn’t matter now.”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “No, it doesn’t. All their top level executives are dead, and the war’s pretty much ground to a halt now that the Austere-grade processors have kicked in.”

  Tom looked around. “Do the other cadets realize the deal?”

  “They don’t talk about it much, but I’m sure they’ve noticed something’s wrong with basically everyone in the world. The crime rate has dropped to zero and . . . It’s creepy. No one even jaywalks anymore. Vik, Yuri, and I haven’t left the Spire in months. It’s too unsettling seeing everyone so orderly out there.”

  Tom thought of those campers all looking at him as one and felt a flutter of unease.

  “Now that you’re here, we can fix everything.” She beamed at him, her eyes full of trust, full of belief in him. “I don’t know how, but I’m sure we’ll find a way. We can do anything when you’re around.”

  It was about the greatest thing anyone had ever said to him and Tom wished it was true. He felt more like a fraud than ever, but with a smile of total faith in him that could almost fool him, Wyatt took Tom’s hand and led him back to his world.

  WYATT HAD TOM authorize Yuri next, because she knew Yuri was careful enough not to react with visible shock and draw attention to them, not after her whisper in his ear. He broke into a huge, beaming smile in the mess hall, then changed seats and discreetly flung his arm around Tom’s shoulder, disguising it as a stretch.

  “I am so happy to see you feeling well,” Yuri said.

  “Yeah, I’m better,” Vik said from across the table, thinking the words were for him. “Indigestion’s gone.”

  Tom smiled a bit. “Vik has tummy troubles?” Then he realized his best friend couldn’t hear him.

  Which meant there were any number of possible ways for Tom to mess with him. When Vik got up to go, Wyatt and Yuri both nodded for him to follow, so Tom did. Yuri decided at the last minute to sweep him up in a big bear hug by the elevator before letting Tom go on his way.

  Vik turned as Yuri was still whirling in circles, a huge grin on his face, arms around someone he couldn’t see.

  “What are you doing, man?”

  Yuri stopped, caught off guard. He and Tom exchanged a look.

  “Dancing?” Yuri tried.

  “Stop,” Vik said. “It looks ridiculous.” He stalked off into the elevator.

  Tom laughed. “Wow, Vik really must have tummy troubles, huh?”

  “No,” Yuri said gently, resting his hand on his shoulder. “That is not why Vikram is so unhappy. He has been this way since you went missing. Lieutenant Blackburn told us you would be returning, but I think he is still anxious.”

  That about killed Tom. He clasped Yuri’s arm, then parted ways with him to follow Vik up to his bunk.

  VIK’S NEW BUNK on the fourteenth floor was large and spacious. Tom whistled at the sight while Vik was in the bathroom. Then he hastily jumped under the bedsheets. When he heard Vik’s footfalls move through the door, Tom sat up slowly likes some mummy waking up.

  Vik gave a shriek and pulled the bedsheet aside to see who was there. His uncomprehending eyes stared at the nothingness he saw.

  Tom laughed, leaped forward, and ruffled a hand through Vik’s hair.

  Vik’s mouth dropped. “T— Uh, Doctor?”

  Tom authorized Vik to see him with a thought, and said, “Yeah, it’s me in stealth mode.”

  Vik whooped out in joy and swept him up in his arms. Tom laughed as Vik shouted like a madman, gleefully hopping across the room with him. He was suddenly so glad to be back, so glad.

  “You’re okay!” Vik’s voice was choked. “I missed you so much, man. You can’t do that again. You can’t disappear like that.”

  “I won’t,” Tom assured him. “I won’t.”

  “I thought you died.”

  “I didn’t.”

  Vik ruffled his hair, grinning.

  Tom ducked back, because Vik’s hand was getting perilously close to his neck, and that still made his skin crawl. “So you made CamCo before me. Guess I owe you more money, huh?” Tom joked.

  Vik seemed taken off guard a moment. His smile was uneasy. “Aw, we know you would’ve gotten there first if . . .” He trailed off. “Uh, my sponsor’s Wyndham Harks. Call sign’s ‘Asoka.’”

  “Asoka?”

  “Indian hero. You wouldn’t know him.”

  Tom looked around at the massive CamCo bunk he’d never had a chance to live in. There was a hasty assortment of artwork, a divan, and any number of things Vik’s parents had obviously sent him from India. There was even a big Russian fur hat thing. He picked it up, feeling the soft fur prickling his palms.

  “Christmas gift from Yuri,” Vik babbled, clearly unsure what else to say. “He visited some family in Russia. Oh, hey, you should ask for yours, too. He got us all ushankas.”

  The hat slipped from Tom’s hands. For a moment, he was too stunned to speak.

  “What is it?” Vik said, alarmed.

  “Ushanka means ‘fur hat’? That’s what that means?” Tom said, his voice strangled.

  “Huh?” Vik said.

  But Tom found himself remembering Vengerov’s odd smile when he chose the name. All along, he just saw the rabbit as . . . a fur hat. Tom was gripped by the terrible urge to laugh, but he couldn’t. Suddenly he felt like he was going to split apart at the seams.

  “Hey, hey, Doctor.” He jumped at Vik’s hand on his shoulder. His friend looked serious, sober, worried, like he’d just seen him for the first time. “Are you . . . are you okay? I mean . . . Did he, uh, did you get hurt?”

  Tom’s mouth felt bone-dry. He couldn’t manage a word.

  Vik looked away. “I know he . . . Uh, you got reprogrammed.”

  So Blackburn had lied to them. He didn’t tell them Vengerov had never reprogrammed him; he’d broken him. “Yeah,” Tom said, relieved like a hand loosened its stranglehold on him.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” Vik cuffed his shoulder once, then again, his hand staying there, hovering uneasily. “Whatever you want to say, or not say, it’s okay, man. You’re back. That’s what matters.”

  “Vengerov mostly left me alone,” Tom said truthfully. It sounded so harmless.

  Relief slackened Vik’s face. Then a light of determination caught in his eyes. “When the day comes and you need to wreak some terrible vengeance, you know I’m your doctor. Call me first.”

  Tom managed to smile. “I know, man. “

  At that moment, the door slid open and W
yatt and Yuri came rushing back in, crowing in delight at the sight of Tom. Wyatt flung her arms around him again, her grip so tight it was slightly painful, and Yuri patted his shoulders, his back, anywhere he could reach.

  The warmth of his friends enveloped Tom again and something taunt and fragile seemed to rupture inside him. He closed his eyes, almost overwhelmed by the flood of relief, tenderness, and sense of belonging that welled up inside him.

  He’d never lose this again.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  AS DAYS PASSED, Tom existed in the Pentagonal Spire in an odd state of limbo, invisible to the security systems, invisible to the people who streamed about him. His friends were still a part of this world, so they had to go about their business of training for a war that was basically obsolete.

  With the nanomachines out in the wild, and most of the world’s population already serving as walking, talking surveillance systems for Obsidian Corp., potential allies were a very limited group of people. They consisted entirely of people with Vigilant-grade neural processors.

  Luckily, the Pentagonal Spire was only one of four sites in the world where young people had been given Vigilant-grade processors. Vik had a cousin in the Bombay facility, and he contacted him on the sly, and Tom knew on her side, Yaolan was looking into people in the Citadel. She’d told Blackburn she had an understanding with Svetlana Moriakova in the Kremlin complex. Svetlana already had a loose coalition of Russian, African, and South American Combatants, ready to mobilize when the time was right.

  Wyatt suggested they watch the footage from the loyalty simulation to see if there were any clues about which cadets would be likely to risk challenging Vengerov. That Sunday, they brought popcorn up to Wyatt’s new luxurious, fourteenth floor bunk, and watched the footage together.

  “Doctor, I think you really screwed us,” Vik said.

  Tom caught his breath, stung.

  “You ended this sim way too early,” Vik said, and Tom felt himself relax, because Vik wasn’t referring to, well, the way Tom had actually screwed them all over—and the entire world besides. “Look at that, it’s almost over and we’re still in the mess hall.”

  The footage panned over restless cadets, being held at gunpoint. Giuseppe was complaining about how his foot itched, but he was worried he’d get shot if he scratched it. Karl was beating his fist into his hand, ready to pummel someone.

  “I’d say Karl’s out,” Vik said. “He’d side with Vengerov just to side against you.”

  “I don’t know,” Tom said. “I think we need to talk to him.”

  They spent the week cornering various cadets, one by one. Always, they warned them not to say anyone’s name, and then Tom would reveal himself, see the shock on their faces.

  “Aren’t you dead?” Clint demanded.

  “Yes, Clint. I’m a ghost.”

  Clint stared at him. Tom stared back.

  When Tom appeared out of nowhere in front of Walton Covner, he blinked, then said, “Hi there,” very casually. “It’s been a while.”

  For her part, Iman Attar burst into tears and flung herself into his arms. “I thought something happened to you! Oh wow . . .” She moved to press her lips to his, because absence had obviously made the heart grow fonder. “I’m so sorry. I hope breaking up with you didn’t drive you away.”

  Tom quickly pushed her back. “Iman, it’s okay.”

  “I know you really liked me, but—”

  “Before you say anything else, I kissed another girl. Sorry, two girls. So don’t think this was you.”

  Vik and Yuri looked at him with sudden respect.

  “Hey, no worries,” Tom assured her.

  Iman scowled.

  Blackburn waved him onward, and Wyatt rolled her eyes. Iman decided absence had not made her heart grow fonder after all, but she listened to them and agreed to help.

  For her part, Lyla Martin said, “Oh, it’s you. Where’d you come from? Vik and I broke up.”

  “You always break up,” Tom said.

  “For good this time. Did you defect or something?” Lyla asked him. “Vik got angry at me because I told people you probably defected. He wouldn’t forgive me.”

  Tom swung his gaze to Vik. “Wait. Is that why you broke up?”

  Vik was outraged. “My best friend had disappeared and she was slandering him. I had a problem with that.” He and Lyla glared at each other.

  Tom hid his grin, because that pleased him more than he’d ever let on. His best friend really did have his back.

  After Tom got them used to the idea that he was in the room, then Lieutenant Blackburn also authorized the cadets to see him. They always grew a bit more nervous at the sight of Blackburn, but they seemed more inclined to believe it from him when he explained the Austere-grade processors, the nanomachines, the inexplicable shift in the behavior of everyone they’d ever known outside the Pentagonal Spire.

  From there, it was a judgment call. Some like Lyla and Walton grew outraged and ready to fight. Some like Giuseppe and Jenny Nguyen grew frightened and wanted nothing to do with it. Others like Snowden Gainey surprised them—the normally meek Combatant readily agreed to hold the line against Vengerov. A few even justified Vengerov’s actions. Cadence Grey and Clint both saw it as a logical next step in human development, and who were they to question that?

  “There’s a big difference between everyone having computers in their heads and everyone having computers Joseph Vengerov controls in their heads,” Wyatt protested.

  “Someone has to control it,” Clint said. “Why not a successful businessman? And one of my father’s top campaign contributors?”

  Clint was definitely out.

  Karl Marsters surprised everyone but Tom when he shook Tom’s hand and said he was glad he was alive. He heard the explanation and clenched his meaty fists, vowing, “You say he did Cruithne, too? He killed my sister. I’m going to rip his head off.”

  “You can’t kill him,” Tom said regretfully. “We’ve got code that stops us from hurting him. That’s one of the problems here.”

  Karl’s big brow furrowed. “So let’s get rid of it!”

  “That is far easier said than done,” Wyatt told him.

  Blackburn erased all their memories of being interrogated immediately afterward, but with certain cadets, Tom made it clear, “It’s safer for you if we take this memory for now. We’ll give it back to you so you know what’s going on when it matters.”

  When they’d run through all the cadets, Vik—observer of all the interrogations—finally asked the pertinent question.

  “So we know who will be with us, and who won’t be . . . What are we going to do with this?”

  Everyone looked at Tom. Tom looked at Blackburn.

  “No idea,” Blackburn said.

  “What?” Vik blurted.

  “I said I don’t know. If there was an easy reversal, we’d already have done it. The only idea I have is to set off EMPs and wipe the nanomachines out of existence. The brain doesn’t grow dependent on Austere-grade processors. Not like ours. Most will survive.”

  “We can’t do that,” Wyatt cried. “You saw how destructive the high altitude nuclear blasts were after Cruithne. We can’t do it everywhere. We can’t plunge all civilization back into the Dark Ages just to neutralize them.”

  Yuri nodded. “I must agree. There is going to be great consequences. People will be dying.”

  “If there’s an electromagnetic pulse, it will disable all the robotic pollinators, and since Dominion Agra killed off all the bees, there will be mass starvation. Most every nuclear power plant in the world will melt down. We’ll kill billions of people in the long run.”

  “It’s not ideal,” Blackburn said, his voice hard, “but at least people will have a fighting chance. They don’t have any now.”

  Grim silence lap
sed over the room.

  “How about that can be our last resort?” Vik suggested. “There’s gotta be something else.”

  “Here’s what I don’t understand,” Tom said suddenly. “You’re so good with neural processors. You and Wyatt both are. Why can’t you come up with something we could spread like a computer virus that disables Vengerov’s control?”

  “I could,” Blackburn said, “given a year or two or ten to devote solely to the study of nanomachines. Then we could just cross our fingers as soon as I spread that virus, and hope Joseph Vengerov doesn’t come up with a security patch to neutralize my efforts. But he will come up with one. It may take minutes, it may take a few hours, but he’ll simply regain control over them, and then we’ve given him a hint about where to find us and we’re back at square one.”

  “What about you?” Tom tried, looking at Wyatt. “You can come up with something faster. You’re the smartest person I know.”

  She frowned. “You haven’t known that many people. There are probably a few people out there smarter than me.” She nodded, a bit dubious. “Probably. I can’t possibly be the smartest person in the world.”

  “You never know,” Yuri said, and leaned over and kissed the top of her head fondly.

  “Besides,” Vik pointed out, “the minute you do something, Vengerov will be able to trace it and find out where the resistance is coming from.”

  Vik didn’t need to say the rest. The implications hung grim on the air between them all. Vengerov hadn’t seized total control over those with Vigilant-grade processors. Not yet. But he could change his mind tomorrow, sweep right in, and write programming just as restrictive into them as he had into the rest of the population—if he ever decided they were a threat.

  When they finally acted, if they finally acted, they only had one shot at victory. Any failure, and Vengerov would crush them for good.

  “There’s one more person to talk to,” Blackburn said.

  TOM FELT A ripple of surprise, finding Elliot Ramirez locked in the cell adjoining the Census Chamber. Elliot stared uncomprehendingly when the door seemingly opened itself and then closed again.