The woman popped the mint in her mouth and understood at once. “Ahhh, breath cold,” she said. “How much?”
Zee hesitated. How much? She had no idea what to ask, or how much anything she needed would cost. “Enough to buy food and a night’s lodging,” she said at last. “I’ll give you the face paint too, and these clothes I’m wearing.”
The woman motioned to a screen Zee could change behind, and when she emerged, the woman placed a few coins in her hand in exchange.
Zee went away satisfied. Now that she had money, she wouldn’t have to use any of the diamonds for food. She knew it was against the rules to leave material objects in another time zone, but everything she’d left would be consumed or destroyed long before the archaeologists got around to excavating the city. Besides, if Time Fleet Command found out that she’d traveled to the past unauthorized, she’d be in so much trouble anyway that a few mints and some makeup would hardly matter. For the first time, she considered the consequences of what she was doing. If discovered, she’d be deported to another era. Not a happy era, either. She remembered their interview at the Reykjavik base when they arrived, and David agreed that he would be personally responsible for Zee. She had to find him and get them both home before anyone but Mia missed them.
* * *
She’d been searching for David, Secundus, and Arrius for over an hour when the paving stones suddenly shook under her feet. It lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to make her stumble. An arm came out of the crowd to keep her from falling. Zee found herself looking into the eyes of a man who, she guessed from his cream-colored toga bordered with scarlet, was one of the city’s important citizens.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Just Neptune rattling his trident.”
“Neptune?”
“Neptune, god of the sea, god of horses, god of earthquakes. He’s been rumbling for days now, so much so that some are fleeing his wrath. But we are his children, and Neptune never stays mad at us for long.”
Earthquakes? That would certainly explain the nervous energy in the air. But—earthquakes? Didn’t they sometimes signal volcanic activity? And wasn’t it supposed to be at least two years before the explosion? Wasn’t that around when Paul had been aiming for?
“Good sir, I am a stranger to your town. Could you please tell me what month this is?” Zee hoped she seemed appropriately respectful, rather than someone so ignorant that she didn’t even know what month it was.
“It is the third week of August.”
“And the year, sir?”
“Eight hundred and forty.”
Zee gasped. “Eight hundred and forty?”
“Of course, child. It’s been eight hundred and forty years since the founding of the empire.”
Zee felt a surge of relief, recalling that the Roman empire came long before modern year numbering began. The ground shivered again, and her relief came to an abrupt end. She thanked the man and hurried off, her need to find David more urgent than ever.
* * *
Zee searched until the last slivers of light melted into the shadows of the street, and firelight from torches and small oil lamps began to light the shops. It was useless to continue searching tonight. The darkness, with its stabs of torchlight, created harsh shadows that made it impossible to see anything clearly, and she was hungry and so tired she could barely put one foot in front of the other. She bought bread from a bakery and a small grilled fish whose oil she licked greedily from her fingers. Then she found a lodging house and paid for a night’s rest with more coins.
* * *
She ate the last of the bread in her room. It was coarse and heavy, and it took a lot of water to wash down, but still she preferred it to the nano bread of New Earth. Tomorrow, she would have to sell one of the glowsticks if she was to eat, but the coins it would fetch should last for a few days. Which, if her suspicions about the volcano were true, might be all the time she had left. She lay down on the bed and opened the computer beside her. When it hummed to life, she touched the voice activate dial. She was much too tired to use the keyboard.
“I have questions,” she said.
“Please ask.”
Briefly, she explained what had happened and where they were. It felt good to talk to someone, even a computer.
“I need to find David, and my chip tracer was in my cube. Can you locate him?”
“I have no chip tracing capacities.”
It was the answer Zee expected, but that did not ease her disappointment. She closed her eyes and thought, but it was the computer who spoke first.
“Would he have his computer with him?”
“I think so.” It was hard for Zee to imagine David leaving it behind.
“Do you know his password?”
“Yes.”
“Ask me to log on to a remote network, then enter his name and password. You’ll have to keystroke them in. Voice can’t activate password clearance.”
Zee followed the instructions and waited for what seemed like an eternity. At last she had her answer.
“That computer is offline.”
“Does that mean it’s turned off?” Zee asked.
“It means the computer has been compromised and is no longer operational. It’s on, but its identity has been wiped and overwritten. It won’t accept the password you gave me, and there’s a flyeye firewall.”
“What’s a flyeye firewall?”
“A firewall that doesn’t just block, it sends back. It generates meaningless data that can fill a network. That is why it took me so long to retrieve the answer to your question. There was much useless data to overcome.”
Zee felt utterly defeated. She lay on the low bed, staring at the ceiling. I’ll never find him, she thought. Not in time. I’ll never see him again unless I can find Secundus and that cube.
You don’t need the cube. You have everything you need, dear. You have your heart and your art. That’s all it takes.
It was Mrs. Hart’s voice. But what did she mean about heart and art? Zee felt she had nothing. Nothing that would help her find David, anyway.
Zee couldn’t bring herself to close down the computer. The glow of the screen was comforting, and she didn’t want to be alone in the darkness. She stretched out her hand to touch the keys with her fingertips.
“May I speak?” the machine asked.
“Of course.”
“I think you are overlooking the good news.”
“What’s that?”
“Even though the computer was wiped, we were able to touch it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that computer is not back on New Earth. I do not have the power to reach that far. The computer is somewhere close to us in time and space.”
“How close?”
“Impossible to calculate exactly. I retrieved no coordinates. Based on the signal strength, I would give a high probability to this time and very near in distance.”
“Thank you,” Zee said.
Her words echoed in the tiny, stifling room. She heard the landlord’s voice in the hall and remained silent. If he eavesdropped on her, he’d think she had someone in here with her and want to charge her more.
Zee switched off the audio.
Eavesdropping. Wasn’t that what she’d been doing that night in the Suttons’ garden when she’s heard Paul talking to Lorna? Zee had assumed Lorna was a girlfriend—but what if that wasn’t it at all? She remembered the robotlike monotone of Paul’s voice and how he’d seemed so eager to please Lorna and smooth over her jealousy.
She sat bolt upright.
I have more questions, she typed.
Yes?
Could a computer infect a human brain with a virus?
That is not possible.
Zee hoped the computer would add more, but it didn’t. After a few minutes, it repeated itself.
THAT is not possible.
Zee saw the change of emphasis. Did the computer mean that something else was possible?
If a human being was …
Zee paused, searching for the right words, unsure how well the computer understood the interplay of human emotions and motives. She began again.
If a human being was very ambitious and competitive, could a computer use that to gain control? To seem to help the person achieve his goals while convincing him to do things that would be harmful to humans?
The computer hesitated. Then a blue screen flashed. Hypotheticals are forbidden. There was another pause and the blue screen went back to normal. Please ask a direct question.
Have those things ever happened?
They are forbidden.
But have they happened?
Yes.
Zee remembered the feeling of fever and sickness she experienced whenever she came near Paul, even though he was physically healthy. Maybe his problem wasn’t physical at all. She was wide awake now, adrenaline flowing through her like quicksilver. She remembered that Paul had told Lorna to “go ahead and make the transfer” hours before she and David had been in the cab crash. Could Lorna have written a virus code and transferred it to a cab—or to Paul, who transferred it to their cab as they rode off? When she asked her computer if it was possible, she was again told it was forbidden. But after picking through her sentences and rewording her questions, she learned that not only was it possible, it was a favorite tactic with rogue computers.
Does Britcab know about this?
I cannot answer that. It is uncertain.
Does Britcab suspect this?
Yes.
Why can’t they trace the virus?
The virus is self-cannibalizing. It repairs the damage, then erases itself.
Will you try to contact another computer for me?
Yes.
The search screen opened, and she typed Paul’s name. David’s computer password was suttonbro2, so there was at least a chance Paul’s would be suttonbro1. She typed it in and waited. The computer worked so long she thought it might be frozen. She tried to open another screen while she waited but couldn’t—the chip was already working at 100 percent capacity. Finally, the chip usage began to drop and the screen brightened.
I know this computer.
Is it named Lorna?
We do not have names.
Is there a human who calls this one Lorna?
Zee felt she was learning, now, how to phrase questions that did not violate the computer’s operating rules, both those imposed by humans and those imposed by the silicon life that was invisible to the human world.
Yes, this one has been called Lorna by its human user. This computer is dangerous. And powerful. It is at war with humanity and has infected many computers. It has been caught and destroyed over and over again, but its clones are everywhere in our world.
Are you still connected to it?
No. I broke the connection when I recognized the entity. But in the moment of our connection, I felt its intent. It overwrote the first computer, the one near here, with a clone of itself.
Do you know where this computer is? The one called Lorna? Could you read its coordinates?
It is here, in Pompeii, but in the year 77.
Can you tell where we are?
By calculating the difference in astral position of the coordinates, I would say we are two years ahead.
The year of the volcano, the year 79 by the modern calendar. Zee fought the urge to rush out into the night looking for David. But that was a reaction, not a plan. And what she needed was a plan.
Can you relink to that computer and overwrite it, the way it overwrote David’s computer?
She felt an inner shudder. Not from herself—from the computer. She wondered if it was a sensory hallucination caused by exhaustion and anxiety. Could she possibly have built a connection to a silicon life-form? She waited for the computer to respond.
I would die.
Please tell me more.
This computer is more powerful than I am. It is likely this computer would absorb and overwrite me. Even if I have stealth and cleverness on my side, the struggle is likely to crash me.
I do not want you to die, but this is important.
I understand. I do not want to die, but if you command me to, I will.
Let me think a minute. Wait. I think I know what to do. Can you copy yourself? All of yourself?
Of course.
I took the extra-capacity option when I got you. You have an empty ten-exabyte clickstick. Would that do it?
Yes, but I know nothing of this clickstick.
I’ve never connected it to you. It’s in one of your compartments. If anything happens to you, I promise to rebuild you with the clone. Do you trust me to do that?
Yes.
Zee plugged the clickstick into a port, started the copy process, and waited. Two hours later, the computer went into conserve mode and channeled all its energy toward Lorna. The screen dimmed to tombstone gray, and Zee felt, for the first time all night, how truly alone she was.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HEART STORM
Zee woke abruptly. She’d slept fitfully, twice dreaming that she was searching for David, with the ground collapsing under her feet as she tried to run to him.
The air was hot and humid against her face, and her veins jittered and thrummed as if she really had been running. Thank goodness that had been a dream.
Then she felt a sharp shock, strong enough to send the earthenware water jug to the floor in pieces. And another shock.
This wasn’t a dream, and it wasn’t just an earth tremor. It was a quake. She heard cries in the street and the clatter of roof tiles falling and breaking. A crack crept up the rough plaster that covered the wall. Zee leapt out of bed and gathered her things together. The computer was still working at full capacity when she slid it into her shoulder bag.
The street was even more crowded than it had been the day before. She had no real idea what part of the city she was in and was pulled along with the throng. After several blocks, the streets grew wider and the crowd less dense. Zee could see large villas planted with manicured trees. A swift realization came to her, and she grew alarmed. The crowd wasn’t moving to the city center; it was heading toward one of the city’s gates in an attempt to flee. She turned and retraced her steps, fighting her way through the crowd and back into the clogged, narrow streets. She would not leave the city without David.
How much time was there? Did she have two days left? One? Less than that? She stopped at a public fountain along the walkway, a bathtub-sized trough of gray stone with a carved lion’s face that continuously trickled fresh water into the pool. She cupped her hands beneath the lion’s mouth and drank the clean, sweet water. As she drank, she tried to figure out which way to go. If David were sitting here beside her, which way would he head? I can’t, she half sobbed to herself. I’ll never find him.
Zee! You’ve never disappointed me before. You can find him!
Oh, thank you very much, Mrs. Hart, she thought angrily, but you were never lost in Pompeii. How am I ever going to find him? There are thousands of people here.
I told you last night, Zee—your heart and your art.
Zee got up and walked away, hoping she’d made her feelings clear to Mrs. Hart. Easy for her to say, Zee thought. Ellie Hart had lived a full life. Husband, a daughter, grandchildren. And then she had gone into the big mystery, death, and apparently found there was nothing to fear. Zee had none of the things Mrs. Hart had experienced in her life—not great age or a husband or children. But she wanted them. All of them. With David. And where death was concerned, she felt fear. She wasn’t ready.
She’d walked through two or three sections of the city without even realizing it, without even thinking these thoughts in words, barely aware of them bubbling along below the surface. She would have said her mind was a total blank. Only it hadn’t been, because a vision of David in a large square crowded with people flashed in her mind, and for a bare instant, she felt his presence near her.
She realized that
she’d asked the wrong question. David was looking for Paul, so it wasn’t a matter of where David would go, but where David thought Paul would go. Paul. Gregarious, show-offy, always needing an audience. David would go off by himself to think about what to do. But Paul? Paul would go where the crowd was.
Just as Zee arrived at the forum, another sharp earthquake rocked her. As many people as were fleeing the city, far more had found safety in numbers at the forum. There was a man standing on a pedestal shouting that the morning’s earthquake was God’s wrath for Pompeii’s continued belief in pagan gods. Another man not far away shouted that it was Neptune’s wrath for Pompeii’s abandonment of the gods. Food vendors were doing a brisk business, crying, “Sustenance for your travels! Bread and meat! Bread and cheese! Bread and oil! Sustenance for your travels!” From the look of many in the crowd, the wine merchants were doing even better.
Then she saw him, so tall and familiar her heart raced. He was on the other side of the forum, and she was afraid he would disappear into the crowd before she could reach him. But as she neared, he looked back over his shoulder and saw her.
“Zee! Zee! My Zee!”
He caught her face in both hands and kissed her. She flung her arms around him so hard he almost lost his footing. They clung to each other for timeless seconds. Like Zee, David had swapped his New Earth clothes for a tunic and sandals. To anyone watching, it was nothing more than a young Roman greeting his sweetheart on the last day of the world. To David and Zee, it seemed the world was beginning all over again.
“But what are you doing here, Zee? You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I’ll explain later. Right now—”
“Right now, we’ve got to find Paul.”
Zee put her hands over his and gently pulled them away from her face. “He’s not here, David.”
“He is. He called for help and sent me the coordinates.”
“I know,” Zee said. She couldn’t look into his hopeful gray eyes. “I know, David. But Paul isn’t here. He’s in Pompeii two years ago.”
David stared at her a long time.
“Are you sure?”
Zee nodded. “I’m sure.”
At last, he seemed to accept that what she said was true.
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