Before the Nothingness (The Great Blue Above Book 4)

by Kevin George

  Of course such an undertaking will require time and resources, which is why I suggest such a project begin as soon as possible. Luckily, our Rhamy Excavation subsidiary has finished their part of The Mountain construction. They’ve already completed exploratory digging on a potential site for such an underground bunker and energy production station. I’ve spoken with their lead project designer, JR Peters, and he confirms that tunnels from The Mountain to the potential underground facility should be started right away. . .

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Charles watched the volcano site disappear in the distance behind him. They flew above the remaining forest and the massive village of ISU’s sprawled in front of them. Once the helicopter reached its cruising altitude, he spotted Billings far ahead. The city had exploded in size during Charles’s life, especially after One Corp. donated thousands of ISUs for this area to house citizens displaced from coastal flooding. Dozens of other smaller mid-western cities had seen a similar population explosion.

  Now, I’m building my own city, he thought, frowning as he looked down at ISU-Ville, realizing how insignificant it was in the grand scheme of things, how few people he’d actually be able to save.

  “Hover here for a moment,” Charles instructed the crew before the chopper reached The Mountain.

  He tapped his earpiece and spoke his son’s name. When Samuel didn’t answer, Charles gritted his teeth. He had no doubt his son was ignoring him. Rather than forget about the call, he connected with Dave Smith and insisted his head of Mountain security track down Samuel. It took ten minutes before Samuel called back. Charles transferred the call to his holographic device. Samuel was a spitting image of Charles at that age, except that Samuel’s hair was longer and disheveled—on his head and face alike—and his eyes were heavy and tired.

  “I’m sorry, Father, reception in The Mountain can be spotty,” Samuel said. “Is everything okay? You’re not in your ISU?”

  “Are you alone?”

  Samuel’s eyes darted up, apparently looking at something—or someone—in front of him, just out of holographic range.

  “Yes,” he said, clearly a lie.

  Charles knew his son would be in one of two areas of The Mountain. Despite living in his ISU for months—rarely touring The Mountain—Charles still had enough inside sources to know what his son and grandson spent their time doing. Instinct told Charles to snap at Samuel, to yell for him to get his life together, to insist that he focus on raising his boy the right way or at least focus on what would be most important to ensuring One Corp.’s future success. But Charles thought of his own father, remembered how Thomas Jonas always supported him even when Charles’s mindset was aimed in a totally different direction.

  None of this would’ve been possible without my father allowing me to travel my own path, Charles thought. Samuel is a good boy. . . a good man. He will figure things out when the time is right. If only he’d try to follow my example. . .

  “I’m traveling to visit the. . . others planning for long-term survival. Remember when I told you about them? About their plans?” Charles asked.

  Samuel’s face twisted in concern. “I don’t think it’s wise to—”

  “Not again, please,” Charles said. “You’ve made your opinion about isolationism well known. I’ve been a bad influence on you for many years; sociability has never been my strong suit. We may have come up with a solid plan for surviving the long winter that’s coming, but—”

  “I know, I know, you’ve suddenly realized the importance of working with others,” Samuel said. “Rather than worrying about what other billionaires are doing, I’m focusing on keeping our lands safe, on developing better ways of living for our people.”

  “All of which are important,” Charles said, exhaling deeply to calm his racing pulse. “I just wish you’d have an open mind. Come with me, hear what they have to say, listen to the ideas they’re working on. You might be surprised by their ingenuity. These people are some of the greatest visionaries of our time. And who knows? Maybe the arks they’re creating might one day save our people if The Mountain or ISU-Ville don’t—”

  “No, I won’t go, not out there where the world is already falling apart, where it’s already dangerous,” Samuel said, shaking his head over and over. “We have no idea what your visionary friends are truly planning. For all we know, they could kidnap you to take control of what we’ve built here.”

  Charles couldn’t stop from chuckling, even when he saw Samuel’s eyebrows lowering.

  “The other arks are being planned and built by the most powerful men in the world,” Charles said. “They’d have no reason to—”

  “First, you go behind my back to push your agenda of creating some underground bunker to save who? Construction workers? People who’ve done nothing to prove their worthiness of surviving?” Samuel asked, once again glancing away from his father. “Now you’re putting our entire operation at risk because. . . I don’t even know why you’d want to do this.”

  Charles’s jaw clenched. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “The right thing to do is what I’m doing,” Samuel said. “I’m weeding out potential traitors working on our projects, all three projects now.”

  Charles stared at the image of his son, hoping Samuel would look back at him, hoping to see any flash of empathy or confidence, any clue that Samuel would one day grow into the leader he needed to become. But Charles saw nothing, especially since Samuel looked anywhere but in his direction.

  “It appears we’re at an impasse, and only time will tell who’ll be correct,” Charles said. “Before I go, can I give you one piece of fatherly advice? One piece of advice I wish I’d followed in my younger years?”

  Samuel sighed. “Have an open mind? Don’t be so cut off from the rest of the world? Try to see the good in common folk?”

  “Spend more time with your son,” Charles said.

  Samuel finally glanced at him and nodded but quickly looked away. Charles didn’t know if his son had really heard him or not.

  “I’ll be back in a few days,” Charles said. “Maybe you could come to my ISU, or I could come to The Mountain and fill you in on the details of my trip.”

  “And fill in The Board, too,” Samuel said.

  A laugh exploded from Charles’s throat, so strong that he began to cough. A member of the chopper’s crew rushed forward but Charles waved him away.

  “Those fools on The Board still haven’t realized this isn’t business and they aren’t as important as they think,” Charles said. “We need to make decisions together, you and me as a family, and not allow The Board to have the same power they have in the outside world.”

  “I’m not so certain that’s the wisest decision. . .”

  “Please, Sammy, you and Horace and me, we’re family,” Charles said. “Remember that whenever you have a difficult decision to make. Leave the security office sometimes, let Smith and the others do their jobs. There’s so many more important places where you can help.”

  Samuel nodded. “I’ll check on Weller and his projects.”

  Charles frowned and was about to beg his son to do anything else when Samuel signed off. With a sigh, Charles waved his hand at the nearest crewmember and the helicopter continued on its flight. They banked around the largest section of The Mountain and soon flew beyond, where more of the forest was being leveled. Minutes later, he spotted more construction vehicles encircling the framework of another building, this one set to house more communications equipment, the systems for which would need to be added very soon if One Corp. were to work with the other arks.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Samuel Jonas stared at the empty space where his father’s holographic image had just been. Was Charles Jonas right? Did they need to ignore The Board? Should their future plans include other potential arks? Most of all, was his father right about what was most important in life? Samuel glanced at the closed door of his office, wondering if he should march straight to his son’s quarte
rs and—

  After what happened earlier, you need to focus, he told himself, his eyes falling upon the pair of FI (Flight Immersion) goggles and accompanying controller gloves sitting across his desk. We’ve already been breached once today. I’ll be damned if I allow that to happen again.

  Samuel had barely stopped from grabbing the goggles while his father blabbed away. For that matter, he’d nearly sent Dave Smith away when the head of security insisted Samuel take the call from Charles. Now, he ignored the piles of personnel files littering his desk—files he spent hours studying, searching for any clue of possible traitors among their midst—and donned the goggles, sighing with satisfaction as he lowered them over his eyes. Once he pulled the controller gloves onto his hands, he felt whole again.

  The goggles wrapped around half of his face, blocking out any view of his room. He saw only darkness within until tapping a small button on the side.

  “Drones,” Samuel said.

  In front of his eyes appeared the images of several dozen reconnaissance drones, each of them with a corresponding number beneath. A few of the drones were silhouetted in yellow, with a message reading “Grounded for Maintenance”; drone number one was shaded red and had a large ‘X’ through it. Samuel wasn’t sure it was worth the effort to retrieve the drone damaged by the rifle blast. But the rest of the drones were shaded green and ready to go. He selected number two and his view within the goggles switched to The Mountain’s launch bay, the door to which slid open to the outside sky.

  Using the controller gloves, Samuel powered the drone up and out of the bay, leaving The Mountain within seconds. He’d logged hours of drone flight and dispensed with slow, cautious liftoffs. Instead, the drone shot high into the sky and he turned it in time to see his father’s helicopter heading into the distance. Samuel considered following him, but he didn’t know how far his father would travel and didn’t want to risk losing another drone.

  What happens beyond our lands isn’t my focus, Samuel told himself, banking his drone in the opposite direction. We’ve had enough intruders around here, enough employees willing to sell our secrets for the right price. Time to make sure our lands remain safe.

  Samuel flew the drone past lines of construction and drilling equipment entering and leaving The Mountain. The drone produced surprisingly crisp audio, allowing him to hear the work being done from outside of The Mountain (for once, he thought, glad the FI’s goggles also covered his ears and blocked out the constant, distant sound of drilling inside his mountainous home).

  He considered flying near the top of The Mountain, maybe checking out the tunnel opening recently dug atop the highest sheer cliff, but the diggers were still working on that connecting hallway and he didn’t want to distract them. He turned his controller gloves forward and down, skimming along the side of The Mountain, passing several battlements built into the walls. The battlements were currently unoccupied, a situation Samuel intended to bring to The Board’s attention at their next meeting. What was the point of building heavy-duty defensive systems if they weren’t going to be manned? Sure, One Corp.’s lands had only suffered minor intrusions from a few trespassers amd curious locals, but Samuel had no doubt a large-scale assault would happen once conditions in the world became cold enough and people were desperate for a place to survive.

  He banked away from The Mountain and lowered toward the ground, flying across the empty lands until reaching the rows of ISUs. Samuel couldn’t wait until the people currently crowding completed sections of The Mountain were transferred to ISU-Ville. It was eerie to see so many tiny homes empty. He slowed the drone and hovered above the one ISU slightly larger than the others. He flew by his father’s home on a daily basis and though he never saw Charles outside, he’d always felt better knowing exactly where to find him. Now that his father had gone to meet with these other mysterious ‘visionaries’ about—

  Samuel suddenly felt his arm pulled. Startled, he nearly jumped out of his chair and pulled the flight goggles from his head. His heart pounding, fear turned to anger when he came face to face with his twelve-year-old son.

  “Dammit!” Samuel snapped, his pulse slowing. Across the room, his office door was open and Dave Smith stood at attention.

  “Sorry, Mr. Jonas, but Horace insisted on seeing you,” Smith said.

  “Two interruptions in the last ten minutes,” Samuel snapped at him. “You didn’t understand when I told you I was busy?”

  Smith’s face hardened, his arms crossing. “The Board and your father hired me to run security for this facility and the surrounding lands, not to be your secretary or your kid’s babysitter. You don’t want him interrupting you? You explain that to him.”

  Before Samuel could reply, Smith turned and started to leave.

  “Wait,” Samuel said. “The intruder. . . from earlier. . . the one in the woods. What’s become of him?”

  “Alive, but not well, suffering from some sort of episode,” Smith said. “He was brought to Weller, as directed.”

  Without another word, Smith marched out, slamming the door behind him. Samuel sighed, turning to his son. Horace stood against the wall, staring at the floor. He was small for his age. Other One Corp. employees had children two or three years younger that were still larger than Horace. He may have appeared older had his mop of unruly hair not hung down over half of his face. He was a quiet boy, kind from what Samuel could tell, but also weak of character and build. Samuel felt a degree of innate love for the boy—and would never allow anything bad to happen to him—but that didn’t mean he wanted to spend time with him, especially when he had other important things to do.

  “Did you bug Smith to let you in here?” Samuel snapped at him.

  Horace shrugged, continuing to stare down. The boy’s weakness annoyed Samuel, who started to stand from his chair when he remembered his FI goggles and gloves.

  “Hold on.”

  He lowered the goggles back over his eyes, hearing the quiet whine of the drone’s engine, the gentle whoosh of air flowing around it. For a moment, Samuel considered leaving the goggles on and continuing his flight, ignoring the boy in hopes of him going away or standing in the corner, in silence. But a message flashed across the Immersion goggles—‘Connection Severed, Auto-pilot Engaged, Returning to Drone Docks’—and Samuel didn’t bother to take back control. He removed the goggles and gloves and leaned back in his chair, staring at Horace until the boy finally looked up at him.

  “I’m sorry,” Horace whispered.

  “Speak up,” Samuel demanded, despite having heard the boy’s words.

  “I said I’m sorry,” Horace said.

  “I told you not to bother me while I’m working,” Samuel said. “I hope this is important.”

  Horace shook his head, apologized and headed for the door. Samuel snapped for him to stop. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s been a hectic day. Tell me what you wanted.”

  Horace nodded and finally looked up, but only for a second. “I was just wondering when mom would be coming back.”

  “Again? The mother question?” Samuel asked with an annoyed sigh. He turned his eyes on the stack of folders atop his desk. He hoped Horace wouldn’t notice his cheeks burning. “I told you. She left The Mountain to round up more of her family members to bring here.”

  “Into the world. . . the crazy world?” Horace asked. “I thought you said it was too dangerous to go back out there.”

  “It is,” Samuel said. “But she insisted and said she’d deal with whatever consequences that might occur. If I were you, I would plan for the chance of never seeing her again.”

  Horace looked up at his father again, this time watching Samuel look everywhere else but at him. “Can’t you send security to find her and make sure she stays—”

  “She made her choice, okay?” Samuel snapped. “Do you want to leave The Mountain to look for her?”

  Horace wiped at his eyes and shook his head. “It’s just. . . I have nobody here. Everybody is working, digging, building. I ha
ve nobody. . . nothing to do. . .”

  “What about your studies? Your VR classes? Every possible form of entertainment?” Samuel said.

  Horace frowned. “Could I go out to the ISUs? Visit Grandpa?”

  “You know your grandfather doesn’t like visitors,” Samuel said. “Why do you think he moved to ISU-Ville where it’s quiet?”

  “But the last time I saw him, he said I could—”

  “I don’t care what he said,” Samuel snapped. “I’m your father and I say you’re staying in The Mountain where it’s safe. Now please, I have a lot of work to get done. Do you think this place just magically remains safe?”

  Horace shook his head and headed for the door. He stopped and glanced back at his father, hoping he’d stop him or have something kind to say. Instead, Samuel Jonas reached for his goggles and started to pull them back over his head. Horace left without another word.

  Samuel rejoined his drone as it was returning to its hangar. He was about to retake control but his mind was racing in too many different directions. As if today’s intruder and his father’s dangerous travels weren’t bad enough, now he had to deal with Horace’s foolishness about his mother. He pulled off the goggles, ready to tell the boy that his mother would never be back, but his office was empty again. He considered hurrying after his son to tell him the truth, but he didn’t feel like dealing with the fallout. Horace would eventually figure it out on his own, one way or another.

  Samuel grabbed the nearest personnel folder and began to read about Joanne Wiggins, one of the junior scientists working under Dr. Weller in the First Bio division. She was low on the chain of importance, lucky to be important enough to work in The Mountain, conducting blood tests on samples, probably without knowledge of what Weller was truly trying to accomplish. Samuel perused her personal financial information for any clue that she’d been paid to sabotage their work. Everything looked normal and Samuel tossed her folder onto the stack of others that he’d approved.