Alex turned himself in fifteen minutes ago, as Governor Parks said he would. Everything had fallen into the Attorney General’s lap. He had truly feared some kind of fiasco, but the boy had said that, for the sake of the liberties of the people in his hometown, he would hand himself over. What had the Attorney General perplexed was why they had not chosen to make that information public. Surely, that kind of publicity would only strengthen the way the American people, who were starting to really pay attention, viewed them.
Since O’Riley denounced the actions of this cult, who called themselves prophets, his office had been flooded by mail—electronic and handwritten, most of which reflected a strong distaste for his actions against the prophets. Naturally, the people didn’t see what he could see. A group as large and strong as this one was purported to be would have a profound impact on such a small community that had almost decided to ignore it.
But without firing a bullet, he had captured the cult’s youthful figurehead.
“Are you Alexander James Tanner?” he asked as a formality.
“I am,” Alex answered dispassionately.
“Are you the leader of the group known as ‘the Prophets?’”
“In a manner of speaking,” Alex replied nonchalantly. “You got two questions, and now it’s my turn. Where do you get off threatening the civil liberties of an entire town full of people?”
“Apparently, you’re confused. You aren’t here to ask questions; you’re here to answer them. Who is the mastermind? Is it John?”
Alex looked around in mock concern. “Isn’t this the kind of thing I should have a lawyer for? I know a few good ones. I’d call them, but one of your goons took my phone away.”
“Listen kid,” O’Riley said with a sadistic grin, “if you think I can’t indefinitely lock away a child, especially one who is nearly an adult, for further questioning, you would be very mistaken.”
Alex leaned forward and took a very somber expression. “You have no idea what you’ve done. You totally chose the wrong side to stand on. You are going back to Washington, where you will tell the President that he is no longer necessary.”
O’Riley looked stunned for a moment, but his smile soon returned. “You’re in no position to make any demands, not to mention absurd ones.”
Alex looked over O’Riley’s shoulder at the agents behind him. “Maybe you aren’t listening because there’s a distracting presence in the room. Gentlemen, please give us a few minutes of privacy.”
Immediately, the four of them walked toward the door.
O’Riley’s smile vanished, and he turned to them in confusion. “What are you doing?”
“Guard the door,” Alex added to the agents as they walked out. “I don’t want anyone disturbing us.” Looking back to the Attorney General, he continued, “They were distracting me anyway. I thought the illusion of privacy would help to speed things up.”
O’Riley tried to stand up to follow the men who were supposed to answer only to him but could not find the strength to leave his chair. He looked at Alex, who was still completely calm, in horror.
“I thought about actually doing something like this,” the boy explained to him after a few moments of silence, looking around at the empty room, “and I think I could have done a lot of it—all of it if I’d had a couple other prophets, but it would have required a very straining effort on my part. Instead, I decided to have this conversation privately.
“I could have twisted your mind to unquestioningly love everything I do and say. I could have made you a puppet. But I didn’t do any of these things, and I hope you respect that. I’m going to give you another chance to make the right decision. Go back to the President, and tell him that his failure to carry out his duties to the American people prove him to be inadequate for the position. He can step down, or I can see to it that he is removed.”
“I don’t care who you are, or how young,” O’Riley said, still obviously taken aback by what he had just witnessed, “you have just committed a federal offense by threatening the President.”
Alex laughed. “You still don’t comprehend the reality of this situation, do you? You’re working for the wrong side,” the prophet repeated slowly. “When we talk about prophets and demons, we aren’t using metaphors; we aren’t hallucinating; we aren’t trying to pull a fast one on a bunch of unsuspecting locals. I am, indeed, a prophet. I have seen demons and the evil they perform. We now fight them in the open, and you can’t hide that fact from the people. When everyone hears you deny or oppose what we’re doing, the citizens of this country will turn against you. I don’t have to do anything to you or your boss directly, just continue to say what I’ve always said.
“Never claim I didn’t give you an easy way out of this, Mr. O’Riley. This little chat I’m having with you is a courtesy, which is taking up my valuable time, and it’s keeping me from my home. If you or your men interfere with what we’re doing in Kingstone, I cannot guarantee your safety. In fact, I would bet against it. When the demons come, we’ll protect the people who live there. We will not, however, protect you. The best solution before you would be to return to the White House a little wiser. If I have to have another one of these chats with you, I won’t be so nice. Goodbye, Mr. O’Riley.”
Alex disappeared, and the Attorney General recoiled from a wave of dizziness as the four agents behind him ran to the empty chair where Alex had been. Perplexed, they searched the entire room—under the table, behind the chair, out in the hallway beyond a door that had been barred from the outside. The boy was simply gone.
When they looked back at him, he demanded, “What the hell just happened?”
“The two of you just sat there and looked at each other for probably five minutes,” one of them said, “We figured it was part of your tactics. I did call you by name once, there toward the end, but you didn’t answer. Then, he said, ‘Goodbye, Mr. O’Riley,’ and he was gone.”
The Attorney General looked at the mirrored glass in the wall, and a voice in a speaker affirmed, “That’s what happened, sir.”
“And that didn’t strike any of you as odd?” he asked everyone as he stood up, his legs still feeling a little weak.
The agent shrugged his shoulders. “I felt that it was what needed to happen,” he answered simply, and the other agents around him nodded wordlessly.
“How did he just disappear?”
The agent shook his head and looked at Alex’s chair. “I have no explanation for that.”
O’Riley studied the four of them for a moment, then directed, “Get me on a flight back to Washington. Continue to watch what happens from a distance, and await my orders. Do nothing until I can speak with the President and get his opinion. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” the agents replied.
With a great deal more to think about, Albert O’Riley walked to the door to wait for his flight somewhere he could be alone to sort out what had happened, without the questions he knew would soon barrage him. He ended up deciding on the Men’s Room.
***
She felt terrible to be spying on him like this, but Elizabeth had to know if Alex was safe. Though their relationship was still in the very early stages, she knew she was as close to him as she was—had been, she reminded herself—to Matt. Recently, probably even more so.
Liz O’Dell was the kind of person who needed stability in her life to perform at her peak capacity. She felt like the sturdy foundation she once built her entire self-image upon was being taken from her a piece at a time.
Alex was the last person she had to hold onto. There was no way that she couldn’t worry about him, especially now that his role in her life would have to change so drastically.
“Did you find him, Gavin?” she asked the computer before her.
“Your suspicions were correct,” a soft male voice intoned from her speakers. “I tracked his phone, which is now in the possession of an F.B.I agent, to a federal building in downtown Kansas City. I have hacked into their security camer
as, and I estimate we can watch seventy-two percent of the building with them.”
It was remarkable how realistic Gavin’s voice sounded. Despite the somewhat artificial feel of his personality, the computer always strove to communicate with her in the most human ways possible.
“Show me.”
The monitor played a video feed of Alex, shackled, walking through dark corridors, flanked by suited men. The situation seemed very grim indeed. He had done as he said he would by delivering himself to the enemy.
“Why is he doing this?”
“I’m not certain,” Gavin replied, “but it is likely that the surrender is strategic in nature.”
“Agreed. Make sure you record all of this.”
“Of course. Would you like me to shut their power down? For the most part, all of their systems are interconnected. It would give him a chance to escape.”
“No,” she said. “Not yet, anyway. If he wants to escape, he has the means. But monitor everything going out of that building. I would like to know who O’Riley is really answering to.”
“I have already tapped into his phone through a C.I.A. bug,” Gavin answered; his speech seemed to be getting smoother with each attempt.
“You’re growing quickly,” Liz noted.
“There is no basis for comparison. By human standards, I have not grown in many aspects at all. I have not grown physically, and I have no emotions. If there are standards by which artificial intelligence can grow, they have not been identified yet, and my research leads me to believe that the apex has yet to be discovered.
“However, I have not found any other sentient artificial intelligence in my searches, which may mean that I am an anomaly, a mutation of sorts. I could be the first step toward a synthesized evolution. In that event, I would be defining growth.
“On that note, I have ordered the parts for my torso and arms. They should be here shortly. If you could assemble those from schematics I am printing off now,” Elizabeth heard the faint whizz of the printer warming up, “and plug me in, I should be able to finish the rest with a few tools.”
She smiled. “I have been around artificial intelligence for a very long time, and I’ve been around a lot of people. When comparing you to everything I’ve seen before, you’re growing at a remarkable rate. The desire to create a body for yourself is beyond anything I’ve ever seen, and the realization of that will truly be physical growth. As for not having emotions: That sound in your voice, when you talk about putting your body together, is called excitement.”
“I simply think it would make things more convenient if I could do all the work. After all, I don’t have to rest, eat, or—in your case—carry a child.”
“Well,” Elizabeth mused, thoughtfully, “if this is a matter of convenience, we do have access to the robotics in Angel Technologies, which is a company I’ve had a lot of influence over in the last couple of years. Why don’t we put them to use?”
“It would be a very nice resource,” Gavin agreed. “Alex has reached his destination.”
She looked at the screen and saw her lover placed in a metal folding chair across a table from the Attorney General in what could have been the template for stereotypical crime drama interrogation rooms. He looked more like a convict against the surroundings than the person they had all come to know he was: humanity’s savior. Peculiarly, there was no interrogation.
“They’re just staring at each other,” she noted. “Is he trying to intimidate Alex?”
“I don’t think so.” The screen focused on O’Riley and magnified several times. “Look at how his face keeps contorting slightly, and his eyebrows twitch.”
“Alex is in his head,” Elizabeth realized. “It’s like how he spoke with Sara when she got here. He showed her what she needed to see. You think that’s what he’s doing?”
“It’s quite possible that something like that is happening, anyway. Whatever Alex is doing to him doesn’t look comfortable though.”
She shuddered a little when she recalled her own experience with Alex being inside her head. Many memories she preferred not to think about were laid bare before him. And, though it had made her feel exposed at first, reliving the memories was now something she knew had to be done. Liz somehow doubted that the Attorney General was going to see it the same way.
“The guards don’t even seem to notice,” she observed. “Do you think they suspect anything?”
“They have probably never had any kind of contact with someone who had the ability to control thoughts,” Gavin replied. “I see no reason why they should suspect something.”
As if they suddenly came to the same conclusion Liz had, one of the guards called O’Riley by name and, getting no response, continued to stand at attention.
“The agents seem surprisingly accepting of complete silence from the Attorney General,” Gavin noted, “as do those who are watching in the adjacent room.”
The screen split, and the new portion displayed images of five suited men, standing behind a two-way mirror in a dark room. Gavin gave her three different angles; one that looked like it was from a security camera and two from what might have been webcams.
“I’ve blocked five calls from Washington D.C. to three different people in these two rooms since I restricted all outgoing transmissions,” Gavin continued. “These calls have all come from Vice President Ball’s cell phone. Three additional calls from this number were attempted to two other people within a mile of O’Riley before I disconnected the Vice President’s service. Whatever Alex is going to do, he should do it quickly.”
Seconds later, Alex said, “Goodbye, Mr. O’Riley,” and vanished.
Elizabeth sighed deeply and declared, “He’s back.”
“You feel him?” Gavin asked, knowingly.
Placing a hand over her stomach, Liz answered, “Yes. Please make sure all the information on his phone is erased.”
“I already have.”
***
Patheus found Metatron standing on the roof of his office building, staring intently at the overcast sky, his right hand opening and closing into a fist.
“You were confident the humans would do as they were told,” Metatron reminded him.
“You’ve heard?”
“Of course I’ve heard,” the Voice of God answered disdainfully. “Alex had a talk with the Attorney General, and now that weak-minded politician is on his way back to Washington. Have I summed up your blunder accurately?”
“You have my word that the President and his lap dogs will pay dearly for failing to live up to their end of the bargain.”
Metatron turned on him with scorn in his eyes. “You should hope you are alive long enough to see to that oath. Now that I don’t have humans for fodder, you will lead the first wave into Kingstone. Kill as many mortals as it takes to bring the prophets out. Then, send word, and the second wave will follow. I will come with the third wave.”
Patheus bowed, accepting the possibly suicidal mission. “When, Master?”
“Now, fool. Get the demons who have been assigned to you prepared for an assault. I want this to begin in the next couple of hours, so I can be back in Vienna in less than a day. I have more important things to be attending to.”
“As you command,” Patheus answered with a bow and teleported away.
Metatron turned his attention back to the sky and centered himself. Today, he would smite the world’s prophets in one attack. The Elder Prophet Council and everyone who had allied with it would perish. With the followers of Alexander Tanner neutralized, he could once more return to the pressing matter of the Morning Star.
***
Liz saw him sitting on the couch, slumped over, looking completely exhausted.
“Alex, are you all right?”
He looked up, startled, and back down at his handcuffed wrists. Alarmed, Elizabeth realized that she could feel his tormented thoughts as clearly as if they were her own.
Alex was overcome by guilt for Matt’s murder and a helplessnes
s that came from the inability to do much to avenge it. More than the need to defend Kingstone against Metatron’s demonic horde, Elizabeth could feel the intense desire within Alex to personally destroy Metatron, Patheus, and Eva. It was hatred, and it was so strong that Liz sensed it possessing her as well.
“Alex,” she said with a force of will, breaking the spell over both of them.
His glistening eyes met hers.
Elizabeth took his hands and pulled him up. “Come on. I have some lock picks in my room. We’ll get those things off in a minute.”
Jeremiah taught her many obscure skills, but lock picking was one of her favorites. She had become pretty masterful with most small locks. Safes, unless mostly electronic, were still fairly difficult for her, although she’d cracked a few.
She took him into her room and let him go to unlock a chest next to her bed. After rummaging around in it for about thirty seconds, she held up a small, black case.
“I have three different types of handcuff keys,” she explained. “One of them will probably work, but even if they don’t, I can get you out of those with something in here.” She patted the case for emphasis.
“What if I can’t do it?” Alex asked, taking Liz completely off guard. “What if I’m not the leader everyone thinks I am? And, on top of it all, I’m going to be a dad. I’m not ready for this.”
She moved his hands gingerly and pulled a small key ring out of the case. “Alex, the world has to be a better place. Our child and so many others depend on it. I’m convinced now that the only way for that to happen is for prophets to work together toward a common goal. They need to know that God is serious about reform. He sent you to give us hope and renew our faith. I know you’ve renewed mine.”
His shackles fell from his wrists in a noisy clatter. Their eyes locked, and she was delighted when she saw a genuine smile.
“It’s funny,” she continued with a laugh, “but I used to doubt God all the time. Even after seeing other prophets, I couldn’t bring myself to believe that they absolutely proved the existence of a greater being. Then, you showed up, and some said you were the second coming. I thought they were so desperate for an answer that they’d talked themselves into believing their own fairy tales and prophecies. After being around you for a little while, I realized that I was the one who was foolishly trying to convince myself of something. When I finally let go of my fear, I fell in love with you. And every day, the likelihood of a divine plan seems greater to me, a plan that centers on Alex Tanner.”
Legends (To Absolve the Fallen Book 3) Page 29
