The End of Infinity

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The End of Infinity Page 9

by Matt Myklusch


  “Stendeval!” Jack said as his old teacher stepped into the tunnel. Blue and Midknight, the veteran hero of Hightown, followed him in.

  “Whatever the future holds, we’ll face it together, Jack. Our job is not to predict the future, but rather to build it.”

  “How did you find us?” Roka asked.

  “We had help from an old friend,” Stendeval said, stepping aside to reveal a cloaked figure standing in the tunnel’s entrance. It was a Secreteer.

  “I would have found you eventually,” Midknight said. “This is my borough, after all.”

  If Roka heard a word Midknight said, it was impossible to tell. He was leaning forward toward the Secreteer in disbelief. “It can’t be . . . ,” he began. “Rasa?”

  The Secreteer pulled back her hood to reveal her face. Jack leaned around Roka to get a look at who it was. Hypnova shook her head sadly.

  “I’m sorry, no.”

  Roka cursed himself under his breath. “Of course you’re not her. How could you be?”

  “All these years, and still you remember,” the former Secreteer marveled.

  “Like it was yesterday,” Roka said. “Can’t seem to forgive and forget, no matter what you people try to pull.”

  For a moment, Jack’s own problems took a backseat to an intense curiosity. He didn’t know what Roka and Hypnova were talking about, but it was obvious there was no love lost between his newfound friend and the Clandestine Order. Whatever their history was, it didn’t seem personal for Hypnova, but Roka clearly felt otherwise.

  “You should know what happened was the matriarch’s decision. I had nothing to do with it. I’m not even part of the order anymore.”

  Roka shrugged. “Neither is Rasa. But that doesn’t matter now, does it?”

  Hypnova’s eyes widened. “You know what happened to her?”

  “Why do you think I spent the last ten years raiding Rüstov ships?” Roka said. “This isn’t my first trip home.”

  Hypnova frowned and looked away. Jack was about to ask Jazen if he had any idea what Hypnova and Roka were talking about when he noticed his android friend was missing.

  “Hey, where’s Jazen?” Jack asked.

  Blue kneeled down next to Jack. “Jazen didn’t make it out, partner.”

  “Didn’t make it out?” Jack repeated. “What are you talking about? Where is he?”

  Midknight stepped forward. “Smart took Jazen prisoner. He says if you don’t come out of hiding and surrender, he’s going to dismantle Jazen and shred his parts. You’ve got until tomorrow night to turn yourself in.”

  CHAPTER

  10

  A Friend in Need

  As soon as Jack heard Jazen was in trouble, he immediately changed gears. He had one priority—Jazen Knight. Jack used his powers to grab hold of an advertising holo-screen that was floating around the lower levels of Hightown. He pulled it down toward the tunnel, switched off its regular rotation of commercials, and changed the channel to SmartNews. The picture rolled and Jack saw Drack Hackman, the slick SmartNews anchorman, interviewing Jonas Smart:

  “I don’t like this any more than you do,” Smart said. “I prefer to solve problems peacefully, with ideas that benefit the greater good. Unfortunately, when faced with such obstinate resistance and immediate danger, my hand is forced. I have to think of the people of this city. This city and beyond.”

  Hackman waved his hands at Smart. “Please, sir, there’s no need to explain yourself. No one questions your motives. You’ve been the only consistent voice of reason ever since this whole Jack Blank affair began.” Hackman turned toward the camera. “Here at SmartNews, we gave Jazen Knight a chance to appeal to Jack Blank and ask him to do the right thing. I’m afraid we can only show you a portion of his statement.”

  An window opened up on the screen with an image of Jazen inside it. He was sitting in a dark room underneath a bright light. His hands were tied behind his back and he was struggling to break free of his restraints. “When I get out of here, I’m going to shove my fist so far up your—”

  The window blinked out before Jazen finished. Hackman was shaking his head with a disappointed look. “You see, this is what I’m dealing with,” Smart said.

  “Meanwhile, Circlewoman Virtua is no better,” Hackman replied. “We have a statement from her as well.”

  Another window opened up on the screen, this time showing Virtua at a lectern, speaking to a group of people.

  “Jonas Smart is clearly out of control. His actions on the square today are proof enough of that, but his abduction of Commander Knight is a hostile act against Machina that will not stand. I am demanding his immediate release. If Mr. Smart should choose to ignore me, he does so at his own peril and that of his borough. I will not hesitate to send troops into Hightown to take Commander Knight back.”

  “By force?” a reporter in the crowd asked.

  Virtua’s features hardened and her color turned deep crimson. “By any means necessary.”

  The window showing Virtua’s press conference vanished from the screen. Drack Hackman threw up his hands as if he didn’t know where to begin.

  “Sending Mecha troops into Hightown would be an act of war,” Smart warned. “I wish I could say I’m shocked by the Circlewoman’s comments, but the truth is, none of this surprises me. I’ve had my eye on Machina ever since the riots there last year. For all we know, that entire borough is still under the control of the Rüstov.”

  Hackman nodded. “I suppose you’re also not surprised that the Calculan Delegation has officially withdrawn its support for an alliance with the Imagine Nation now that Jack Blank has returned?”

  “What?” Allegra blurted out.

  Smart shrugged. “They’re merely being prudent. Would you join forces with an army that let’s enemy agents walk freely within their ranks? The Calculans are logical creatures. Rest assured, we’ll regain their support once Jack Blank is dead. But if he isn’t dead in”—Smart checked his watch—“sixteen hours and twelve minutes, Jazen Knight will be.”

  “Thank you for talking with us tonight, sir. It’s an honor as always.”

  “Thank you, Drack.”

  “For more as this story develops, keep your holo-screen tuned to SmartNews—the only news you need to hear.”

  The broadcast cut to commercial, and Jack sent the screen away.

  “This doesn’t make sense,” Zhi said. “The Calculans helped bring Jack home. Why would they quit on us now that he’s back? That can’t be right.”

  “Yes it can,” Roka said. “Makes perfect sense if you know the Calculans like I do. They don’t play nice with others. They play the odds. Sounds like they don’t think the Imagine Nation is a good bet anymore.”

  “Can you blame them?” Lorem asked.

  Midknight shook his head. “We’ll be an even worse bet without their help. They’ve got a fleet of unmanned drone fighters five thousand strong. We need that firepower if we’re going to stand a chance against the Rüstov.”

  “How can they just completely change their minds all of a sudden?” Allegra asked. “They let Roka out of prison to go after Jack. They’re the reason he’s here! They can’t do this.”

  Roka shook his head. “I’m afraid they can do whatever they want.”

  Jack was lost in thought as his friends argued about the Calculans. Everyone was worried about suddenly losing their support, but all Jack could think about was how his best friend was in danger because of him. Again. “Why do they keep calling him Commander Knight?” he asked.

  Everyone got quiet. Blue patted Jack’s shoulder. “After the riots in Machina, Jazen had to resign his position as an emissary. Now he’s head of Machina Security and uh . . . special assistant to the Circlewoman.”

  “Jack, I know you’re worried about your friend, but we have to look at the big picture here,” Midknight said.

  “Big picture?” Jack repeated. “Are you kidding? We need to get Jazen out of there now.”

  Midknight put his
hands up. “Jack, calm down.”

  “No!” Jack shouted. “Smart’s gonna kill Jazen because of me. I can’t just stand by and let that happen.”

  “We gain nothing by fighting among ourselves,” Stendeval said. “Midknight is correct.”

  Jack couldn’t believe his ears. “Stendeval!”

  “And Jazen would agree,” Stendeval continued. “If you confront Smart directly right now, it can only make matters worse. Our actions need to serve the greater good if we want to make a difference in the conflict ahead. Machina can’t be at odds with Hightown days before a Rüstov invasion. We need to work together if we want to survive.”

  “How do we do that?” Jack asked. “This city can’t work together. The only people who trust me are here inside this tunnel.”

  “Then that has to change,” Trea said. “We should talk to the Calculans. If we can change their minds about Jack, things will calm down a little. Then maybe we can pressure Smart into letting Jazen go without a fight.”

  “We turn the screws on Smart and shore up our defenses at the same time,” Midknight said. “I like it.”

  “I don’t,” Roka said. “The Calculans don’t listen to anybody. They crunch numbers and make decisions. They’ve decided.”

  “Based on what they think they know,” Stendeval said. “If they’re leaving because of Jack, they should at least meet him before they go. And they will.”

  “What makes you so sure they’re going to like what they see?” Jack asked as his chest lit up with red light. “Look what the Rüstov did to me.”

  Stendeval put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “All they’ve done is give you the strength you need to defeat them. You’ll never be their weapon. Never be Revile unless you decide to be.”

  “Stendeval, you’re the one who always says we can’t know the future. What makes you so sure? How do you know I can keep from becoming Revile?”

  “I just know.”

  Jack shook his head. “You’re not helping.”

  “The Calculan Delegation is staying with us at the Garrison,” Allegra said. “I can get us all in.”

  “And I can fly us there,” Zhi said.

  Jack took a deep breath and nodded. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t have any better ideas. “All right. Let’s go.”

  As Jack and his friends left the depths of Lowtown and made their way to the alien borough of Galaxis, he couldn’t shake Khalix’s words out of his head:

  Everything thing you do can only serve to weaken the Imagine Nation.

  How were they going to convince the Calculans otherwise? So many bad things were happening, all because of him. Jack didn’t think he could turn that around, no matter what Stendeval said.

  CHAPTER

  11

  The Cold and the Calculating

  Allegra keyed in her personal access code at a side entrance to the Valorian Garrison. “Quick, inside!” she shouted. Jack and the others all ran safely into Prime’s massive dome-shaped headquarters in the heart of Galaxis. Traveling by glowing Chinese dragon was anything but discreet, and Jack had been recognized by several people on his way over from Lowtown. He knew being spotted at the Garrison would bring his enemies to Prime’s door, but there was no avoiding that. His enemies were everywhere. Allegra led the group through the building to Prime’s chambers. The Valorian Guardsmen they passed along the way took little notice of Jack. They were not afraid of him or his future. Valorians knew no fear. They did, however, know considerable frustration with people who lacked their courage and convictions. Prime was no exception. Jack and the others found him locked in a heated argument with the members of the Calculan Delegation.

  “Ambassador, this is madness,” Prime pleaded. “To come all this way only to turn right back around . . . you can’t be serious.”

  There were three Calculans in the room with Prime. Two of them were busy with a large holo-tech computer. Numbers and figures floated through the air all around them. Jack understood the numbers easily enough, but the rest was in a language he didn’t know. Prime, the Calculan ambassador, and his fellow delegates all paused to notice Jack and the others come in.

  “Stendeval?” Prime said. “Jack! What are you doing here?”

  Stendeval stepped forward. “Please forgive our intrusion, Prime. I hoped we might help convince our Calculan friends to stay. If they are leaving because Jack is an unknown factor, we can at least remedy that.”

  Prime rubbed his chin a moment, then nodded. “Yes. Very good. Jack, come here, please.”

  Jack stepped forward, and two of the Calculans turned back to their work at the light computer. The tallest one stayed with Prime, studying Jack with narrow black eyes. Jack assumed that he was the leader, but the Calculans all looked the same to him. They had thin, humanoid figures and wore identical V-neck robes. They had elongated fingers and wrinkled, gray skin that made Jack think of elephant hide. They had no noses, and their foreheads extended upward a foot or more, leveling off into a flat, angled surface without hair. The Calculan leader stood across from Prime and the others with his hands clasped. He said nothing. His face was an emotionless mask.

  “Ambassador Equa. May I present Jack Blank of Empire City,” Prime said. “Jack, please meet the distinguished Ambassador Equa, a board member of the Calculan Planetary Conglomerate and head of this delegation.”

  Jack started to offer the Ambassador his hand, but Prime pushed it back down. From the look on Equa’s face, Jack realized that shaking hands was not a Calculan thing to do.

  “We thought it best that you two meet before you decide to take your leave,” Stendeval told the ambassador.

  “And now we have,” Equa said. “Thank you.” He looked over his shoulder at his two comrades. They ran a few quick calculations on their computer and shook their heads in reply to his unspoken question. “I’m afraid this changes nothing.”

  Equa turned his back on the group and moved to rejoin his colleagues. Jack screwed up his face in frustration. “Wait a minute, that’s it? We haven’t even talked yet.” He reached out and grabbed Equa’s wrist. Prime tried to pull him back, but it was too late. Equa recoiled from Jack, and the other Calculans gasped in shock. Jack quickly released the ambassador and put his hands up in apology, realizing he’d committed a serious breach of protocol. “Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you, but . . . please, Mr. Ambassador, sir . . . at least talk to me. My friend’s life is on the line.”

  Equa grumbled and looked at his wrist like it had a disease. One of the other Calculans brought him a glowing cloth to wipe it with. “There’s nothing to discuss,” he said, motioning to the holo-computer. “The numbers have told us all we need to know. Numbers do not lie.”

  “What numbers?” Jack asked.

  “The only numbers that matter when deciding on a course of action,” said the Calculan who had handed Equa the cloth. “The probabilities for positive and negative outcomes of that action.”

  Equa handed the cloth back to his subordinate. “We do not believe, as many people here seem to, that the future is written. However, we do happen to know it can be predicted with a fair degree of accuracy based on quantifiable knowns and unknowns. This is the probability algorithm that all our decisions are made by.” The ambassador waved his hand at the third Calculan, who brought up a large projection of an incredibly complex equation filled with confusing numbers and figures. “We agreed to help free you from captivity because we were led to believe your machine-controlling powers gave us the best chance of defeating the Rüstov Armada.”

  Equa lifted a hand, and the algorithm processed a light show of calculations that resulted in an 86 percent probability of success.

  “We did not anticipate that you would return here unable to use your powers against the Rüstov, effectively reducing your chances of positively impacting this conflict to fourteen percent.”

  Jack’s stomach twisted and churned as he watched the numbers rapidly tick down from 86 percent all the way to 14 percent.

 
“Furthermore, based on the data provided to us . . .” Equa paused to give Stendeval a reproachful look. “It appears we overestimated your ability to resist your Rüstov infection.” Equa pointed across the room, where another calculation was being run. “The advanced state of your transformation indicates a high probability that you are in fact a Rüstov plant, soon to be overtaken by your parasite.” According to the Calculans, the odds that Jack would succumb to Khalix’s will and become Revile clocked in at a staggering 99.8 percent. “We were told that your presence here would help deliver victory, but we must now ask ourselves, whose victory? We are more inclined to believe that you will stand against us in the battles ahead. All of this has now been factored into the holo-computer by my associates.”

  Equa’s examples were incorporated into the larger equation, and the entire room lit up in a dizzying display of alien math. When the last integer finally clicked into place, the only thing that Jack understood were the words to the right of the equal sign: “Success: 50%/Failure: 50%.”

  “We see now that, working together with the citizens of the Imagine Nation, we have no better than a fifty percent chance of defeating the Rüstov,” Equa explained. “That figure was higher prior to your arrival, but your return has had a polarizing effect on the many factions of this city. We can’t go to war with you against the Rüstov. You’re still at war with yourselves.”

  Jack didn’t know what to say. The Calculans’ decision-making process made his head spin, but he couldn’t fault them for feeling the way they did. The fact was, he felt the same way. But Jazen needed him. He couldn’t let them go without a fight. He had to make this work.

  “Please, Mr. Ambassador. We need your help. I’m fighting this infection as hard as I know how. You can’t just abandon us.”

  “I’m sorry, but this isn’t about your future. It’s about ours.” Equa nodded, and the Calculan at the computer adjusted the variables in the equation. The probability of success increased to 53.2 percent. “By our calculations, the conglomerate’s interests are better served by leaving Earth to fend for itself and letting the Rüstov take the planet. It will take them a long time to burn through all of Earth’s resources.”

 

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