The scramble turned out to be a tad more strenuous than he anticipated, as rambling thorn bushes, oleander and mesquite created an almost impenetrable wall. Sam was thankful for his heavy coat, which protected him from the worst of the tearing tendrils, but he still emerged on the summit with scratches on his hands and face that stung in the cold air.
The ground around the ruin was littered with slabs of concrete, some of which still had traces of the delicate fluting that had once decorated the building. Sam reckoned that it must have been a tower, judging from the quantity of stone. Maybe it fell in the great earthquake, or maybe it just rotted away like so many other things.
He clambered over the rocks that blocked the entrance, but there wasn’t much to see inside, just a small room and the remains of murals, too faded to make out. He went back outside, sat on the rubble and watched as the fog slowly receded and revealed the bones of the once-great city.
It was beautiful, in its own austere way. The familiar tidy grid of streets, found in almost every town, here became something else, as hills repeatedly interrupted its flow and other less staid roads shot off at angles or squirmed their way down to the grey, glistening bay like pythons in pursuit of prey. Then there were the bridges, or what remained of them. One stretched across to what had been Oakland, its double span long vanished and replaced with a narrow platform that swayed dangerously in the wind, while over at the narrow entrance to the bay, a single tall tower, red and rusting, its top still wreathed in fog, was all that remained of the once-legendary Golden Gate Bridge.
Sam used to wonder what his life would have been like if his parents had stayed here. He’d always imagined living in the tiny house, playing in the garden and going to school like the kids in books, but all that had been taken away now. There was no happy dream life. If Elkanah and Marian had stayed, Sam would have been nothing more than an experiment—used, abused and finally discarded like the boys in the basement. He wondered if his mom and dad were even his parents. Perhaps he was a clone like Rob and Bethany. That would explain the eyes on the boys.
For the first time in his life he was curious about himself, but the only people who could explain who he was were the ones who wanted to slice a piece of his brain away.
He turned and looked at the sprawling Hermes Industries Research buildings that clustered near the bay, slightly to the south of the city. Bethany had been right, they were silver—tall and shimmering in the morning light, the main building towering above everything else in the city. Sam imagined they were going for a “beacon of hope” vibe, but the whole thing looked more like a slightly sinister Land of Oz from where he was sitting, though he readily admitted that his impression was probably tainted. Yet such was the confidence of Hermes Industries that they hadn’t even bothered with a protective wall, just a flimsy perimeter fence and a fancy white and blue sign: “Hermes Industries Research, a division of Hermes Industries.”
Dr. Robinson had implied that something dreadful would happen if they didn’t do the surgery. Like what? Was he going to turn into some kind of monster?
He stood up and started to make his way back down the hill.
Alma and Rob.
Why?
And why was he so bothered by it? It’s not like she’d ever given him even a single hint that he had a chance. Just the reverse, actually. He’d kind of imagined her as something unattainable.
Only she wasn’t.
But…Rob?
What could she possibly see in him? Apart from the obvious. Sam had to admit that Rob was probably better looking than him, what with his even features, easy smile and blond hair. He could understand how women would go for that over some guy with a pointy face and weird eyes. But Alma had seemed different from all the others.
Except obviously she wasn’t.
It was probably for the best, anyway. If Robinson was right and he was some kind of time bomb, his best option was to get as far away from people as he could.
Which brought him back to the GTO and Nathan and set his blood boiling yet again.
He walked back to the house, but it was strangely silent. In the kitchen an old man he hadn’t seen before was sitting in a chair, boots off, warming his crooked toes in front of the fire.
“Where is everyone?”
“Gone on a raid,” said the old man, smiling. “Take a pew, they should be back soon. I’m Leo, by the way.”
“Sam. Is there any tea?”
“There is if you make some. The pump’s out back.”
Sam got the largest pan he could find and went in search of the pump. It was in the middle of the patch of beaten earth that passed as the back yard—a tall old-fashioned pump with an ‘S’ shaped handle. He put the pan underneath it and heaved on the handle. It took a while for it to get going, but eventually water gushed from the spout and splashed into the pan.
At least, he assumed it was water. A kind of yellowy-grey water. He poured it out and tried again with the same result. He took it back into the house.
“Leo,” he said, tilting the pan up so the old man could see the contents. “Is it supposed to look like this?”
Leo peered into the pan, then leaned back.
“Yup,” he said. “That’s San Francisco water right enough. You’ll be needing to filter it a few times, then make sure you boil it real good.”
There was another pan on the counter with some cloth stretched over it. Sam poured the water through the cloth first one way, then the other.
“It stinks!” he said, as an oily aroma assaulted his senses.
“Been that way ever since they started fracking for gas. That’s what my ol’ man told me anyways. Time was you could light it with a match. It’s better now, though.”
“This is better?”
“Yup.”
Sam shook his head, put the pan over the fire and sat down. After about five minutes a sort of musky stench started to fill the room. He wasn’t sure if it was the water or Leo’s feet. Either way, he decided that tea was out.
He had to get a car. He had to get another car so he could find his car and get as far away from California and everyone in it as he possibly could.
Was he dangerous? He certainly didn’t feel dangerous. Except when he thought about Nathan, but that seemed like a perfectly reasonable response.
“Things really that bad?”
“What?”
“Your face,” said Leo. “Pretty dang gloomy for such a glorious morning.”
Sam glanced out of the window at the yellow sky. Leo laughed.
“Kid, from where I’m sitting, every morning I’m still breathing is a goddamn glorious one.”
Sam smiled and decided to make the tea after all. He reached for the pan.
“Hold on there! That stuff ain’t boiled for near long enough. Just let it ride for a while.”
Sam sat back and watched the flickering flames.
“Leo,” he said, finally. “How come Rob is the leader? I mean you and Phil must have much more experience.”
“I suppose we do,” said Leo. “And Phil was in charge for a few years before Rob showed up. We did okay, I’m not saying we didn’t. We’d go out, get food, y’know… whatever else we needed.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
“Yeah. One day this kid shows up, angry as hell, starts telling us all about how HI is evil, which, truth be told, we already knew. Most of us older guys worked for Hermes at one point or another. All our parents did. After the Big One, it was pretty much the only show in town.”
“So why’d you stop?”
“We didn’t stop. We was fired. Once they perfected that cloning thing, they just made their own workers. Don’t complain so much, I guess.”
“Except for Rob.”
“Yeah. He was all going on about how Hermes don’t control Mutha no more and the world needs to know.”
“I still don’t get it,” said Sam. “Why did that qualify him to be leader over all of you?”
“I think you can make
the tea now,” said Leo, sitting up and putting his sock back on. “Thing is, son, people like a purpose. I mean going on raids to get food and stuff is fun, but a quest…now that’s something else. Came to be most folks saw Rob as some kind of King Arthur and proving that HI and Mutha have parted ways…well, that’s pretty much our holy grail these days.”
“And what about Phil? Didn’t he resent losing the top dog slot to a kid?”
“Nah. Well, maybe a tad. But he’s okay with it.”
Sam brewed the tea and had just poured two mugs when the sound of a stuttering engine made the old house tremble and the warm liquid splash onto his hands. This was followed by the whooping of triumphant voices.
“I think they may be home,” said Leo, drily.
Sam smiled, handed him his tea and went outside to see what was going on, only to find himself in the middle of a backslapping celebration as the younger denizens of the house leapt from an old truck and clattered inside carrying box after box of papers and file folders. The last one in was Rob, who was grinning like the cat that got the cream.
“You shoulda been there, Sam! Like taking candy from a baby.”
He disappeared inside as Alma rolled up on the Norton, a scowl on her face.
“You don’t seem as happy as everyone else.”
“Amateurs,” growled Alma, kicking the stand down angrily. “It never seems to occur to them that the reason they can snatch all this stuff is because no one cares about it. All they’re doing is getting their faces recorded for future use.”
“Then why did you go?”
“I have no idea.” She stepped onto the porch, glanced inside at the noisy celebrations and sighed. “Feel like going for a walk?”
“Sure.”
Alma turned and started walking so quickly down the street that Sam had to run to catch up. She didn’t slow down until the house was out of sight.
“So the fish toxin didn’t work,” she said, finally.
“No. Well…no.”
She glanced at him sharply.
“Did it or didn’t it?”
“It did for a moment.”
“Why didn’t you let me know?”
“It was my best chance of getting out.”
She nodded and they walked a few blocks in silence.
“And the car?” she asked.
“Stolen.”
“Careless.”
“Nathan drugged me and handed me over to the Rovers. Then he took it.”
“Ouch. They trade you to Hermes for the bounty?”
“How do you know about that?”
Alma shrugged and turned down another street. It led to a steep hill, which they climbed in silence.
“So were you at DETH, Inc. spying for Rob?” asked Sam.
“Yeah. We heard that Bast had found something big and that Hermes Research wasn’t happy about it. Rob thought we should find out what it was. Then we heard she was looking for an assassin, which seemed too good to pass up. You know, considering my skill-set.”
“So he sent you down there on your own?”
“I volunteered. And I work alone.”
“With no back up? No one on the outside?”
“You’ve seen these guys. Who would you trust to get you out of a tight spot?”
Sam had to admit she had a point there. But he couldn’t help feeling angry at Rob for sending her in the first place. What was he thinking? There had obviously been something between them, so how could he do that? How could he send someone he cared about into such a nest of vipers?
“Penny for your thoughts?” said Alma, one side of her mouth tilted up.
“What?”
“You look like thunder. You need to work on keeping your feelings off your face.”
“It’s just—”
“Look,” said Alma, her face suddenly stern. “Rob is obsessed with the Mutha thing. It’s all he thinks about. People who are obsessed don’t think of consequences. They just do what they believe they have to.”
“Yeah, but—”
“And he’s not the only one. If I can help bring Hermes to its knees, I’m more than happy to take a few risks. D’you want to go down to the waterfront?”
Sam nodded and they headed down the other side of the hill toward what had once been a thriving port. He wanted to ask her about her relationship with Rob. But the words wouldn’t come. It was so much easier to talk about other things.
“What’s your beef with Hermes?”
“It’s personal and…well, it’s personal.”
She suppressed a sigh and, for a split second, Sam thought he recognized something. A kind of sorrow. The empty, hollow kind that never goes away. He knew the feeling well.
“So Hermes heard about the box,” he said. “But Bast’s not interested in them, is she? She’s after Bakersfield City.”
“Yeah. That’s not going too well. Someone leaked the info to the Bakersfield Militia and they were ready. She’ll win, but it’s going to cost her a lot more.”
“Was it you?”
“No. I think she suspects the banker, but I don’t buy that. My guess is it’s someone closer. It’s always the last person you’d think, right?”
“Yeah,” said Sam, grimly.
They reached the docks and walked along one of the rotting piers that fingered out across the water. The smell was almost overpowering.
“Ugh!” gasped Sam. “Best viewed from a distance.”
Alma turned around and looked at him.
“Are you going to tell me why Hermes wants you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know why they want you or you don’t know if you’re going to tell me?”
“Both. I think I was part of some experiment that went wrong. But I don’t know what it was or why.”
“And?”
“And I’m not sure if I can tell you anything else. I told Nathan some stuff and…”
“Yes?”
“And the last thing he said to me was that he didn’t think I was human.”
“Maybe he’s right,” said Alma, smiling. “Though it could be a good thing. After all, it was humans that did this.”
She picked up a rusted piece of iron railing and flung it into the water.
“Could we get out of here?” asked Sam. “The smell is making me retch.”
They turned around and headed back up the hill.
“So why is Rob obsessed with the whole Mutha thing? He told me he was born there, which should have given him access to all the info he wanted. Why leave and try to do it from the outside?”
“Dunno,” said Alma. “He was born there. First families, too, so he probably had a pretty easy time of it as a kid. But when they reach eleven or so, the kids all get tested. Top tier get to be scientists. Everyone else gets regular jobs.”
“And Rob didn’t get top tier.”
“No. He expected his dad to fix it, but the old man refused. He says he left, but knowing Rob he probably made some big stink and got himself thrown out.”
“So where did he get this idea that Mutha is sentient?”
“Beats me. Maybe he overheard something. All I know is he’s managed to convince a whole bunch of people that they can change the world for the better by bringing down HI.”
“Including you.”
“I didn’t need much encouraging. But I don’t think they’re going about it the right way. I think it’s all tied into that box, but Rob doesn’t agree.”
“You’re still here, though.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Huh. Right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She sounded irritated.
“Nothing,” said Sam.
The conversation wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. He shoved his hands into his pockets and they walked on in silence until they reached the house.
Inside, the post-raid celebrations were still going on. The younger members were drinking some kind of homemade hooch from a large plastic bottle and re
living the morning’s events, while the older ones were going through the papers. Alma grabbed a mug, poured some of the hooch into it and disappeared upstairs.
Sam sighed, picked up a fat manila folder and flung himself down in the nearest chair. Alma was right, the information wasn’t anything to do with Mutha or the inner wranglings of Hermes Industries. On the other hand it was incredibly detailed. Every item of correspondence, every note, every conversation had been recorded and filed. The folder that he had selected seemed to be about some kind of fuel cell, and by the time Sam had finished reading it, he understood every step of its development, including all the discussions and disagreements along the way.
He picked another folder. It contained the same meticulous record, this time for a medical implant.
“Hey, Rob…”
“Yeah?” Rob tossed back his drink and turned around.
“Are the files always like this?”
“Like what?”
“So detailed.”
“Yeah. Like I said, they don’t use computers so everything’s written down. That’s why they’re scattered all over the place. Storage is a bitch.”
“But wouldn’t it make sense for them to keep the most valuable stuff close?”
“There’s a file room on the tenth floor of the main building,” said Gil. “They probably keep the really juicy stuff there, but it’s too well guarded.”
“Have you tried?” asked Sam.
“Do we look insane?” laughed Mary, pouring herself another drink.
Rob glared at her.
“But isn’t that why you dug the tunnel?”
“Yeah,” said Rob. “We can get inside, but getting up to the tenth floor is the problem.”
“It’s too risky,” said Gil. “We decided to hone our skills with these raids before making any attempt on the main building.”
Sam looked around the room at Rob’s increasingly inebriated crew. The only skill they seemed to have perfected was yahooing unguarded buildings, brewing liquor and drinking it.
Rob poured himself another and slipped out back into the yard. Sam followed him out to the back fence. He hadn’t realized it before, but there was a perfect view of HIR from there. They stood in silence and watched as the light of the feeble sun sparkled across the glassy façade.
Paradigm Page 23
