Sanjar led him through the house to the game room where there were multiple game consoles, a row of networked computers, Dolby surround sound, and a plasma TV that covered an entire wall. Hector reeled. Gamer Heaven!
“So what is so important?” Sanjar asked flatly.
Mr. Zahedi walked in. “Hi, Hector. Decided to stay, huh? Good. Sanjar, I’m going up to the store.” He looked at Hector. “Your grandfather is coming by later for a game of checkers.” Then he turned his attention back to Sanjar. “Your mother should be home after a while. There’s a storm coming, so if you need anything, Shah is here.” He glanced at each of them. “Is everything okay, boys?”
“Yes, sir,” they said together. Mr. Zahedi nodded and left the house as another low rumble of thunder made its way through the walls.
“Well?” Sanjar asked, turning to Hector.
Hector swallowed, knowing how idiotic it was going to sound, but he had to do it. “Your life is in danger, Sanjar.”
“Yes, my next door neighbor wants to kill me.”
“Sanjar. I know what I did was wrong. And I’m sorry. And I’m just going to have to live with it. But you are in real danger, and not from me. I don’t know how they do it, but when the guys in Alanya kill you, they can figure out who you are. That’s why Chaz is dead.”
“Deion told me all about your,” Sanjar quoted the next word with his fingers, “theory.”
“That guy just can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say,” said Deion, stepping into the room.
“Deion!” Hector was overjoyed for a split second, then crushed. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m at my friend’s house, but this asshole keeps bugging us.”
“You never came over to my house,” Hector almost whimpered, growing more hurt by the second.
“Soccer’s over, Hector. It doesn’t last forever,” Deion sneered back.
“Just let me show you,” said Hector, swallowing over the lump in his throat. “Please. They might come here and kill you. Just like they did with Chaz. And it’ll all be my fault again.”
“What did I tell you?” Deion said to Sanjar. “Pathetic, isn’t it?”
Sanjar nodded with a hint of a smile. “Too much video game playing. No life.”
Hector couldn’t tell if they were being serious or not. He wanted to scream at them to listen but he forced himself to remain calm. “Just let me show you! Please. We’ve only got three days until the Summit. If I’m wrong, you can all make fun of me. In public. I won’t stop you.”
Sanjar rolled his eyes. “What could it hurt?” he said, and motioned toward the TV.
The game console was already running when Sanjar turned the TV on. Hector wanted to cry. There was Darxhan and another character that looked like a scientist in a white lab coat. He was bald with black, horn-rimmed glasses. Hector recognized the inside of Alkindi’s tunnel – the road tunnel that he was converting in to an armored garage. Both ends were secured with large, iron doors and outside the mouth were thick concrete barriers and earthen ramparts. Inside they were working on a massive, steampunk-like fusion of a bulldozer and tank.
“I’m sorry about Alkindi,” Hector said again. “I really am.”
“Were you were hoping I would be killed, too?” Sanjar asked coldly.
“I wasn’t hoping that.” Hector sat down stiffly on the couch in front of a black table with Sanjar’s thick, leather-bound copy of the Omega Codex sitting on it. He felt very unwelcome. “But it could happen. So, I just need you to listen to me now.”
Sanjar opened up another game window that pushed the other two into the top of the screen so Hector’s window took up the whole lower half. But the two smaller windows were still almost as large as Hector’s largest TV. He logged in to his account and awoke Izaak. “Where’s Veyron?” he asked, glancing around their bedroom. The empath was missing.
Deion shrugged. “She was gone when we logged in.”
Hector paused for a moment, thinking. “I need to get up to the hotel. Is V-2 ready?”
“Vera-2 was ready last night,” said Sanjar. “Instead of murdering Alkindi we –”
“Okay, I get it,” Hector snapped. “I was bad. I was wrong. When we’re done, I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again. So what do I have to do?”
“I’ll show you.” The character in the white lab coat led Izaak to the antenna-gantry.
“Who is this guy?” asked Hector. “He looks like a scientist or something.”
“He’s my fabrication Cybertech, Goddard. I only use Alkindi out in the field. I actually have a tighter bond with Goddard than with Alkindi.”
“Goddard?” asked Izaak, staring at the name as it appeared at the bottom of Sanjar’s screen area. It was spelled ‘G0dd4rd.’
“Robert Goddard,” said Sanjar. “The father of rocketry? You never heard of him?”
Hector shook his head. “No.”
“He was an American who worked on rockets before World War II. My dad told me all about him. Cool guy.” Another wave of guilt swept through Hector. Maybe he should have gotten to know Sanjar a little before he tried to kill him.
They climbed a ladder to a small platform at the back end of Vera-2’s gantry. Resting on the rails was a large bullet-like capsule which tapered to a point at each end. At the rear was a set of fins and in the center was a long hatch, just large enough for Izaak to squeeze inside. It was similar to Uber Pwn’s merc torpedos but smaller and only carried one occupant.
G0dd4rd explained that Vera-2 would launch the pod, with Izaak in it, toward the citadel. At the correct time, Izaak would be ejected. A small parachute would slow him for an instant, then Izaak would activate a bubble shield and fall onto the roof of the hotel. The pod would continue on over the peninsula and splash into the sea.
“Eject the occupant?” said Izaak in alarm. “Have you tried it out?”
“I only have one pod,” said G0dd4rd. “But it’ll work.”
“I know you’re supposed to be this great scientist and all, but how do you know this is going to work? We’re only going to get one chance.”
“It’s math,” said G0dd4rd. “The quadratic equation. It has to work.”
Hector looked over at Sanjar sitting next to him on the couch. “What does the quadratic equation have to do with any of this?”
“I’ll show you,” Sanjar bubbled.
The specter of seeing math loomed up and Hector said: “No, I don’t need to –”
“This time,” Sanjar told him, “you are going to see, because I need to check it again anyway.” Sanjar pushed a button on his controller and the black tabletop in front of them became a swirling mass of colors.
Hector jumped back. “A digital table!” He’d heard of these, but never seen one in real life.
“You don’t think I do all my fabrication with a controller, do you?” Sanjar handed his copy of the Omega Codex to Hector and began tapping and sliding his fingers across the glass. A note pad appeared and opened up. There was a list of items on it. Fan shield, Lorica-SAC, and others. Lots of others. He touched Vera-2 with his finger. An animated sheet of paper flipped back and revealed something like a notebook with equations written in it next to drawings and diagrams.
As Sanjar guided the table, Hector thumbed through the Omega Codex. It was full of equations and graphs written in flowing scripts and heavily illustrated.
“Objects moving under the force of gravity,” Sanjar said, “like soccer balls, or bullets, or the delivery capsule from Vera-2, move in parabolas, like we studied in algebra. And what equation forms a parabola?” he asked.
Hector and Deion just looked at one another.
“Look on page two hundred thirty-five,” said Sanjar wearily. “We just had a test on this.”
Hector flipped over and found a section on gravity. Deion looked over Hector’s shoulder. They scanned the section and then Deion answered hesitantly, “A quadratic?”
“Very goo
d,” answered Sanjar, and, in the Codex, pointed out the equation for an object moving under the force of gravity. It had terms for height, speed, time, and acceleration. Sanjar entered in the height of Vera-2’s barrel above the sea as the initial height and used trigonometry to determine the height of the hotel above sea level and factored that into his equations so Izaak would pass 50 feet over the top of it. He smiled broadly, presenting his white teeth, as he showed Hector how he used the quadratic equation to find the exact time when he should eject Izaak from the pod. “At that point, a parachute will open and slow you down enough so you won’t get killed when you hit. You’ll need to have a bubble shield ready.”
Hector stared dumbfounded at the arcane symbols, then Sanjar tapped a few more icons and a simulation played out the entire scenario on the digital table.
“Jesus, you mean you can actually know what’s going to happen?” Deion asked in disbelief.
“That is what physics does,” laughed Sanjar. “That is why it changed the world. It is how the space shuttle used to go up to the right spot, and come back down at the right spot. Why man made it to the moon. How missiles hit targets hundreds of miles away. And it’s how Omega Wars works.”
“Are you ready to go?” Sanjar asked and Hector nodded, still not trusting the math. “Here take this,” and G0dd4rd passed Izaak a small box. “It will open locks and help get you around traps.” Then he attached a parachute to Izaak’s back and told Hector how to configure his controller so a quick button sequence would open it. “Have you got a bubble shield?” Hector went through Izaak’s inventory and found one. “Have it ready,” Sanjar told him.
“Let me ask you something,” Deion said, as Hector maneuvered Izaak into the pod. “Do you really think if you get killed up there, terrorists will know who you are and come to kill you?”
“I’m sure of it,” said Hector gravely.
Deion glanced at Sanjar then back to Hector. “Then, why are you going, man?”
“Because if I don’t get anyone to believe me, more people will die.” He looked at Sanjar. “Like you. And we could wind up in World War Three.”
“And you think this is Muslims?” asked Sanjar defensively. “It’s always Muslims. Everyone bashing on Islam. All the time we –”
“I don’t know who it is, Sanjar. They’re probably involved, considering it is in Turkey, which is like ninety-nine percent Muslim. But there may be others involved in it, too.” He remembered Mal-X being called the Yank. “Maybe even Americans. In the end, it doesn’t matter. We have to stop it. So I’ve got to get up there and see if I can get out with those documents. The summit is only a few days away. My Omega Wars account is just about to expire. And I wouldn’t be surprised if the terrorists are already around here. So get me in this thing and light the fuse.”
Outside the window there was a flash and thunder rumbled deeply while in Omega Wars, G0dd4rd bundled Izaak into the pod and closed the hatch. It was pitch black inside and Izaak could hear G0dd4rd loading the pod onto Vera-2.
“You really think this will work?” Hector asked, when he realized Sanjar was sitting right next to him on the couch. His screen was blank except for his motion tracker which showed there were people outside the pod.
“I am as sure of this,” said Sanjar, “as you are that someone is coming to kill me.”
“So you believe me?” Hector exclaimed hopefully.
“No,” said Deion and Sanjar in unison.
“Thanks a lot.” For an instant he doubted himself. What if this was all in his head? What if Chaz’s death was unrelated to Rada’s and he’d manufactured this whole thing? Maybe his mother was right. Maybe Sabrah was right. Maybe he did need those pills. Is this what it was like to be crazy?
“It’ll be a few minutes before the capacitor bank is charged,” said G0dd4rd. “A fusion cell won’t release its energy fast enough, so I must bleed it off into a bank of capacitors to release it all at once. And this takes ten.”
“You need a window in here,” said Izaak, feeling strangely claustrophobic.
“Okay, we’re ready,” G0dd4rd finally said. “In ten… nine…” Hector gripped his controller and stared at the computer screen. He even said a silent prayer and wondered if God could influence events in a virtual world. Or the real world for that matter. “…four …three –”
“Wait!” blurted Hector.
“What?” cried Deion and Sanjar together.
“I don’t even know if the roof’s clear! I could drop right into a machine gun nest for all we know. Is there some way you could check?”
“He’s right,” said Deion. “Could be a dozen Reavers up there.”
Sanjar agreed with a sigh, and put a UAV into the air. In just a few minutes, they were all looking down on the hotel. There were mercs around the front of the building and here and there among the grounds, but the roof was empty.
G0dd4rd resumed the countdown. When he got to zero he pressed a button on his controller. There was a whine, and a rushing sound, and then nothing. His screen was black. In real life, Hector would have felt the acceleration, but this wasn’t real life. He glanced at Sanjar’s screen and saw the pod rush down the gantry and launch out the far end. Deion’s screen had a similar view. It disappeared into the sky. They all stared as the clock in the corner of Sanjar’s window counted down, scarcely breathing. Hector cued up Izaak’s bubble shield.
There was a loud pop and Izaak suddenly found himself rushing through the air with a parachute stretched out above him. He activated the bubble shield. The world flashed by and he caught a glimpse of sky, the sea, then the outline of the castle. He hit and rolled. And kept rolling. He was going to roll off the edge!
“Drop the shield!” said Sanjar.
Izaak let go of it and slid to a stop at the very edge. The dissipater field of his armor soaked up the remainder of the energy.
“It worked!” Hector exclaimed and jumped to his feet. He high-fived Sanjar and knuckled Deion merrily, then remembered they were not friends anymore. At least, they weren’t friends with him. He owed them for this. Owed them for everything. He’d been a complete jerk and didn’t deserve them.
Izaak scanned to make sure the roof was still empty, jogged to the east side and caught a glimpse of the pod landing in the ocean far away.
“They’re going to see you, man,” hissed Deion.
Izaak went stealth and lost about seventy-five percent of his speed. But Deion was right. He went back to the other side and peered over the edge. There, at the entrance to the compound, were four Reavers. They were looking into the sky, following the track of the pod as it soared out into the sea. Then he checked the roof. As with most hotels, there was a small service vestibule on the roof with a door in it. It was locked.
Sanjar showed Izaak what looked like a toothpaste tube in the infiltration kit, and Izaak applied a bead of goop around the lock. Then he stuck an igniter in it and set it off. The putty glowed brightly for an instant and the door swung free.
Inside was a set of stairs going down to the top floor. The same floor where al-Nib’s room had the plans tacked to the wall. He slowly descended the steps, frustrated by how long it took to get anywhere in stealth mode. Most people didn’t have the patience, but whenever Izaak turned it off, Deion said, “See, he doesn’t believe this is real.”
At the bottom of the steps, Hector opened a door and stepped out into the hall. There was no motion on his tracker. “No guards this time,” said Hector.
Sanjar frowned at the TV screen. “I don’t like it. Too easy.”
Hector checked his indicators again. “I’ve already checked in infrared. There aren’t any laser beams or anything. Maybe some hidden cameras?” He activated his refractive camouflage, which provided almost complete invisibility against cameras, and moved slowly down the hall.
“Stop,” said Sanjar. “Set off one of the smoke balls in your infiltration kit.”
Izaak removed what looked like a smoke grenade and set it off. A thin smoke emerged
and rolled down the corridor. Tiny red threads, head and waist high, appeared in both directions from the entrance.
“Lasers,” said Sanjar. “You can’t see them unless they have something to reflect off of. Like smoke. Or a person.”
Izaak crawled slowly down the hall beneath the laser beams. The pace was agonizingly slow, and Hector could hear Deion holding his breath beside him at every beam. He nearly tripped one when a lightning bolt in the real world flashed through the room with an ominous rumble behind it, making them all jump.
He reached the door to al-Nib’s suite and it was unlocked. The dark room was empty, but the documents were still hanging on the walls where Izaak had seen them before. Strange, he thought, and at the same time brilliant, using a digital world to hide things.
“What do they say?” hissed Deion.
Izaak turned to the first one and shined a light on it. It was a list of names and codes.
Sunil Rajukulangot Ramchandani – SRR
Hassan Izz-Al-Din – N1dlazzi
Ali Atwa – Awtaila
Ahmed Ibrahim Al-Mughassil – Lissahgum
Ali Saed Bin Ali El-Hoorie – Eir00h
Adam Yahiye Gadahn – Mada
…
Sanjar read the first dozen aloud. “What do you think they mean?”
“Names and screen names,” Deion shrugged as if it were obvious. Everyone stared. “See, each name after the first is like, spelled backwards. N1dlazzi with a ‘1’ instead of an ‘i’. Awtaila is Ali Atwa put together backwards. Eir00h with zeros instead of ‘o’s. So they know who’s here.”
Hector frowned, staring intensely at the screen. “I wonder,” he whispered, almost afraid to try his idea. “Sanjar, you got a piece of paper and a pencil?”
Sanjar handed him one and Hector wrote down ‘Ned al-nib.’ Then he wrote it backwards and sounded it out. “Bin-la Den.”
“Bin Laden!” they all shrieked together. Sanjar screamed and clapped his hand over his mouth. His controller hit the floor with a clunk.
Multiplayer Page 24
