OMEGA SERIES BOX SET: Books 1-4

by Banner, Blake

  But Marni had stopped communicating with me. She had vanished without a trace—until a week ago, when I had seen in the New York Times that she and Professor Philip Gibbons of Green College, Oxford, would be speaking at the United Nations International Conference on Climate Change and Overpopulation. I had been in Houston at the time, but I had dropped what I was doing, climbed in my Zombie 222, and headed east. I knew that this might be my last chance to talk to her. Omega would be weighing up the situation, figuring that if they had Marni at the UN, they didn’t need me. With both of us dead, they’d be in the clear.

  So I had to get to Marni before they got to her, and before they got to me.

  The Zombie 222 is an electric car produced by a couple of crazy geniuses in Texas. It has the body of a 1968 Mustang Fastback, but its twin engines deliver eight hundred bhp, one thousand eight hundred foot-pounds of torque, straight to the back wheels. She’ll go 0-60 in just over one and a half seconds, and she is totally silent.

  As I slipped out of the parking garage, I saw the Tragic Two still on the sidewalk. The guy with the broken leg seemed to have passed out. The other one was on his knees, holding his head. I didn’t feel bad for them. They were lucky to be alive.

  Among the things I had inherited from my father, apart from a manor house in Weston and a butler to go with it, there was a penthouse apartment on Riverside Drive, in Bloomingdale. That wasn’t my style, and I kept telling myself that when this was all over I would return to my small house in Wyoming, where I had briefly been happy, fixing cars.

  But that had been in another life. And besides, who said this would ever be over?

  I took First Avenue as far as 79th Street and then crossed the park to the Upper West Side. I rode the elevator to the tenth floor and let myself in. It was a family-sized apartment. My father had bought it when I was a young kid—when my brother and I had been young kids. My mother, accustomed to the high life in London, had complained that Weston was going to drive her crazy. The bohemian, arty set had suited her better, but in the end it turned out it was not Weston that was driving her crazy, it was my father. My father was driving us all crazy.

  Now that the apartment was empty, it seemed to swell to three times its size, and to be three times as empty. A family home without a family is like a body without a soul. It’s unsettling to look at. Physically it has not changed, yet it becomes pitiable, and uncomfortable to be with.

  I went to the kitchen, cracked a beer, and stepped onto the terrace. Across the canopy of trees, the Hudson lay heavy and massive, almost black in the late morning sun. It seemed to foreshadow something, like a black tide spreading imperceptibly over the city.

  I took a pull of the cold beer and told myself that’s what happens when you start thinking; you start getting ideas. My cell rang. I forced myself to let it ring three times before I answered.

  “Yeah, Lacklan Walker.”

  The line was silent so long I was about to repeat it. Then I heard an intake of breath, and Marni’s voice. It had been a year since I’d heard it, but it was as fresh as though it had been that morning.

  “Lacklan, it’s me, Marni.”

  “Hi, you’re a hard woman to get hold of since you hang out with university professors.”

  “Lacklan, let’s not make this any harder than it is. You need to stop pursuing me…”

  “Pursuing you?”

  “Lacklan, listen to me…”

  “No. I’m not going to listen to that shit. Do you know how many times I risked my life for you in Turret? You asked me to follow you! You asked me to follow you to Tucson! You were mad at me that I didn’t follow you to Washington! And now you tell me to stop pursuing you?”

  “Lacklan, I know this is hard to understand…”

  “It’s not hard. It’s impossible!”

  “Do you want me to hang up?”

  “No!”

  “Then stop storming at me every time I open my mouth.”

  I drew a deep breath and let it out slow. “I’m sorry.”

  “This is not your fight anymore, Lacklan. You need to give it up.”

  “Can I answer without you hanging up?”

  A small sigh. “… Yes, of course.”

  “First of all, what makes you say that? And second, what makes you think you get to decide whose fight this is?”

  “Lacklan, I can’t get into this discussion with you. But you need to understand… You have to back off!”

  “Why?”

  “What you did in Arizona. It was insane. You are so violent, so destructive!”

  “Do you know what they were doing at Biosphere 3?”

  “… Not exactly, no. But…”

  “I do. Do you know who was investing money in that research?”

  “Lacklan, listen to me!”

  “Do you?”

  “No!”

  “I do! And among others it was the Sinaloa drugs cartel. And every one of the programs they were funding involved some form of mind control. Those insane, violent things I did drew media attention to them, and the programs were shut down.”

  “You were not meant to do that.”

  “Meant? Meant by who?”

  “You were supposed to follow to Washington.”

  “Supposed by who, Marni?”

  “You are not dependable. You are not reliable, Lacklan. You go off half cock and start killing people.”

  “Now you listen to me, Marni. If you’d talked to me, instead of trying to use me like a pawn, maybe I would have followed to Washington. And maybe you, and whoever is doing all this ‘meaning’ and ‘supposing’, would have seen the need to put and end to the Biosphere 3 project. But let’s be clear about one thing, anytime you try to use me as a pawn, it is not going to work, because I am nobody’s pawn, Marni!”

  She sighed loudly. “You see? This is exactly why…”

  “You think? Maybe it’s you who hasn’t understood. Because from where I am standing, this whole damned business is about not letting people become drones. Let me ask you something, Marni.”

  “What?”

  “When was the last time that you, or one of your pals who do so much ‘meaning’ and ‘supposing’…”

  “Please, stop saying that.”

  “When was the last time you shut down an Omega program?” I waited. There was no reply. “When was the last time you were inside their office in the Pentagon?”

  This time she said, “You were at their office?”

  “Yeah. From where I am standing, the one thing you have managed to do, aside from getting Professor Engels tortured and killed in Tucson, is to kill my father, the one high-ranking ally we had inside Omega.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, now you want me to talk?”

  “He killed my father, Lacklan!”

  “I know. Are you forgetting that I hated that man all my life? He lived several hours after you shot him, Marni, and he told me everything. He made me promise, before he died, that I would look after you and keep you safe.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “Well you’d better believe it. You and your pals may know a lot about climate and social geography, but you don’t know shit about warfare. And so far you are screwing up at every step of the way. You need me, Marni. You don’t understand your enemy. We need to talk.”

  “Lacklan, I called you to tell you to back off and desist.”

  I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. “That’s not what you want.”

  “Philip doesn’t trust you.”

  “Who the hell is Philip?”

  “Professor Gibbons.”

  “What the hell would he know?”

  “Will you please stop being so aggressive!”

  I breathed and counted five, backwards. “You know me, you turned to me when you left Weston, I was there for you. I destroyed the sun beetle farm, I destroyed the Biosphere 3 Project. What more do you need, Marni?”

  “He thinks…”

  “Fuck what he think
s!”

  “No! Lacklan! Can’t you see? It is precisely this bullying, aggressive attitude that makes it impossible to work with you! If there was one thing your father was right about, it was this!”

  “OK, OK, OK! With the greatest respect for Professor Gibbons, you are better qualified to know whether I can be trusted or not than he is.” A long silence. “And you know I can be.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  It was my turn to sigh. “Let’s talk, in person. Then take me to meet Gibbons. There is a lot I can tell you about Omega.” I hesitated, then said with heavy meaning, “We need each other, Marni. You know we do.”

  She was silent for a long moment. Then, “It’s a shame you didn’t realize that five years ago in London.”

  “Yes. I made a mistake. But this is not the time to discuss that.”

  “OK, Lacklan. I’ll talk to Philip.”

  “You leaving the decision up to him?”

  “No. We’ll meet, but I need to discuss it with him. I’ll get back to you.”

  “When?”

  “Soon, Lacklan! Stop pushing so hard. In the next day or so.”

  I thought for a second. “They are hunting for you, you know that. The longer we delay, the greater the danger to you. Don’t spend a week agonizing over this, Marni. You made a decision—the right decision—now we need to act.”

  “I know. Stop pushing! I’ll get back to you.”

  And then the line was dead.

  I finished my beer, went inside, dropped my phone on the bookcase, and threw myself on the sofa. After a while, to numb the ache of the silence, I switched on the TV. I scrolled through the channels, not seeing the images or listening to the voices, just searching for something I didn’t know and couldn’t find. Finally I got up and went to the kitchen to make some early lunch. I’d left the TV on a news channel, and as I cracked eggs into a bowl and started beating them, the litany droned in the background. I put the toast in the toaster, and went to lean on the doorjamb.

  “…in a surprise development, former President Dick Hennessy is to address the United Nations Conference on Climate Change and Overpopulation next week, replacing former Vice President Al Gore. Alia Fadel interviewed him for the Right Now Program this morning…”

  The screen was filled suddenly with the image of Alia Fadel sitting in a comfortable chair, gazing at Dick Hennessy. He was starting to look old, but he still had the eyes and the smile of a letch. She was nodding while he was talking.

  “I’m real glad, Alia, that the United Nations has organized this conference, especially in view of the fact that we have pulled out of the Paris Accord. World leaders really need to get around the table and talk these issues through. As you know, Al has had a deep interest in climate change for a long time, and I know he was real excited about addressing the delegates, so when he asked me to stand in for him, I was real honored to accept…”

  The shot cut back to the studio and the anchorman. “And you can catch the whole interview later this evening at a quarter after six…”

  I went back to the kitchen and poured the beaten eggs into hot butter. As I watched it congeal I wondered to myself if there had ever been a time in human history when mankind had not been divided into parasites and hosts; the few, spreading fear—terror—and the many, pliantly believing what they were told, and offering up their lifeblood in exchange for… For what? The promise of guidance and leadership toward a promised land that was always just beyond the horizon, but never reached.

  Because once you reach the promised land, the one thing you no longer need, is a leader.

  Two

  The call came at seven AM the next day, as I was stepping out of the shower after my morning run. I dried my hands and my hair and wrapped the towel around me before answering. The screen displayed a cell number I didn’t recognize.

  “Yeah, Walker.”

  The voice that answered was English and cultured, and had that unmistakable Oxford resonance to it. “Good morning, Mr. Walker. This is Professor Gibbons. Forgive me for calling so early, Marni said you would be up.”

  I knew what he was going to say, but I asked anyway. “What can I do for you, Professor Gibbons?”

  “I wonder if we could meet and talk.”

  “I’m sorry. I have to keep my schedule free.”

  There was a barely perceptible sigh. “May I ask what for, Mr. Walker?”

  I could feel the anger building in my belly and tried to control it. “I am expecting to meet Marni.”

  “That is what I want to talk to you about…”

  “No. That is what I am going to talk to Marni about, because, Professor Gibbons, my meeting with her is none of your business.”

  “That is where you are mistaken, Mr. Walker. It is very much my business.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I can’t discuss it with you on the telephone. Please, meet me at the Bethesda Fountain at nine o’clock this morning. I assure you, you won’t miss your meeting with Marni. And, Mr. Walker…?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Try not to confirm all the preconceptions I have about you. I would actually like to be proved wrong.”

  “Screw you, Professor Gibbons. I’ll see you at nine.”

  I had scrambled eggs on rye and a pot of strong, black coffee. Then I walked the two miles to Bethesda Terrace through the morning sunshine, watching the joggers, the skaters, the people on bicycles and those walking quickly in business suits, some carrying attaché cases, others wearing stupid mini rucksacks on their backs. But if I saw five hundred people that morning, of all types, shapes and sizes, five hundred of them were connected in some way to a device. They were either staring at a screen or they had something plugged into their ears; at least half had both. I wondered how long it was since any of them had noticed a bird sing. But then I realized, there was probably an app for that.

  You could go to Central Park, plug in, and listen to birds singing on your iPhone.

  Gibbons arrived early. I’d found a place to sit in the shade of a large hickory, and I was watching who arrived, who left, and who stayed. At that time of the morning, very few people stayed more than a couple of minutes. So it looked as though he was going to arrive alone.

  At ten to nine I saw him approach through the trees, from the direction of 5th Avenue. He was about five-ten, with receding white hair and a paunch. He stopped by the side of the fountain and scanned the area. He made no attempt to be discreet or to hide the fact that he was looking for somebody. You had to wonder at these clowns, thinking that I was a liability. I stood and walked over to him, approaching from behind. When I was six inches away, I said, “Bang, bang, you’re dead. Why don’t you hold up a big sign saying, ‘I’m looking for Lacklan Walker’?”

  He turned to face me. His eyes were not friendly. “Not everybody is out to kill everybody, Mr. Walker.”

  “But it’s the ones who are that you need to worry about. Can we go somewhere less visible? Walk and talk, we’ll cross the bridge.” I started walking toward Bow Bridge and he followed. I said, “So what do you want to talk to me about?”

  “I want you to stop trying to contact Marni.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” I looked at him. “Why?”

  He thought for a moment before answering. “I know about Omega, Marni has told me all about them, and about your father. Frankly, I don’t think she is at risk from them. I think they are more interested in negotiating with her than harming her.”

  “And this conclusion is based on what?”

  He took a deep breath, as though he was sifting through his thoughts, deciding which ones he wanted to share with me. “I have been a consultant to many governments over the years, not least the U.S. and the U.K. A long time ago, I realized that presidents and prime ministers come and go, but they serve higher masters, and I have gained some idea of who some of those masters are.”

  “So?”

  “Like all conspirators, the men and women who run Omega fear public exposure. C
onspiracy prospers in the dark, Mr. Walker. That being the case, they try to keep their assassinations to a minimum, because every high profile murder risks investigation and exposure. Add to that the fact that we have her father’s research…”

  I stopped. “You have it?”

  He looked me over a couple of times, making no secret of the fact that he was suspicious. “That’s important to you?”

  “It’s important to everybody, Gibbons. Omega will do anything to get their hands on that research.”

  He shook his head and started walking again. “No, they will do anything to suppress, and preferably destroy, that research. They will do anything to stop it coming into the public domain. And as long as they believe that Marni’s death will provoke just that, they will take care not to harm her.”

  “That is a very dangerous game.”

  We had reached the bridge and he stopped to lean his elbows on the edge and look down at the water.

  “Well, that’s just it. I don’t think it is. What I think is dangerous is this warmongering, confrontational approach you have.” He frowned and shook his head, as though I had said something absurd and he was having trouble believing I’d said it. “You can never beat them, Walker. There is no way to beat them. All we can ever hope to do is influence them.”

  “How do you know?”

  “What?” He looked at me like I was insane.

  “How do you know that we can never beat them?”

  “They are far too powerful! They control governments. They have entire armies at their disposal…”

  “And yet they are scared stiff of Marni Gilbert, who murdered one of their senior members. And after all the damage I have caused them, here I am. You know why they are not coming after me?”

  He turned back to look at the lake. “I can hazard a shrewd guess.”

  “They hope that they can get to Marni through me. And they want Marni, as you pointed out, because they are scared of what she can do with her father’s research.”

  He didn’t say anything, but he nodded.

  I pressed the point. “That kind of fear does not come from being invincible. They can be beaten! You should not be afraid of them.”