“It showed up really close to us when we were walking downtown. It ended up eating some investment bankers.”
“No huge loss there,” Laroux said, smirking. Without meaning too, Amadeus remembered the smell of sulfur and rancid meat and the image of the avocado-green puddles of dissolved people. He wondered if the authorities had burned the body or took it to a research lab. Hopefully the former, more than likely the latter.
“And Vesely was dead by the time you reached Prague?” Laroux put his hand on his shoulder and shook him. “Amadeus, do you see a pattern here?”
“Yeah, it’s like this is following me…”
“Think about this, Amadeus. The demon in New York, that was no coincidence. Who could possibly know where you’re going? How much do you trust this man Jones?”
“No,” Amadeus said, “it’s impossible. Someone was watching Esther, waiting for me to show up. Jones wouldn’t do that. He was my father’s friend! Why? No. Laroux, it’s impossible.” Amadeus remembered Gravity’s note, Lilly’s suspicions, even the way Jones’ demeanor had changed, but pushed all this out of his mind.
“Hold on. I’m not saying Jones is working for Ross, or someone else, not yet. Let’s go back to some basic assumptions; stop me if I’m wrong. Ross wanted this demon gate, but your father refused to give it to him. You said before this someone hacked into your father’s home server and downloaded the plans. You believe this was Ross?” Amadeus nodded. “He certainly has the resources and the motivation. If Ross learned about Jones, isn’t it possible that Ross has somehow infiltrated the data systems at Jones’ lab?”
“That makes sense,” Amadeus said. “But Jones had said he had, and I quote, ‘taken momentous steps to stay under the radar of the leering eyes of the world.’ Jones knows data security.”
Even though signs strictly forbade smoking in the temple area in several languages, Laroux lit a cigarette and took a long drag.
“That doesn’t mean he is without blame. You can infiltrate a man’s mind without infiltrating his computer system. No one knows the secrets men hold in their hearts, their motivations and desires. Sometimes people do things we simply can’t explain. But when you look closer, it starts to come together. You said Jones lives on a compound. And it at least is partially self-sufficient. Doesn’t this seem strange? Here we have one man talking about instigating an apocalypse and another living in a place designed for just such an occasion. What does he say about the outside world?”
“He says it’s a dangerous place full of awful people; he barely lets his daughter leave, and when he does…” Amadeus wondered if the black-eyed man was working for Jones, keeping an eye on his daughter.
“And Jones is just happy to help you, to let you fly his very expensive prototype machine all over the world to help you collect all our blood. For this, he expects nothing in return?”
“Um.”
“Tell me: what are in these protected files?”
“The most recent schematics and plans for the demon gates, as well as known technical bugs and issues.”
“Imagine how valuable this information is. Now, imagine you already have this information, but you want a monopoly on that information. Who is most motivated to attain these plans?” Laroux asked, taking a long drag on his cigarette before flicking the ashes into his palm.
“Ross,” Amadeus said, shaking his head. “But he already has them.”
“But you said these are the most recent. And doesn’t it stand to reason if you know how to make them, how they operate, that you could also know how to destroy them?”
“I suppose so.”
“I am fearing that you, my naive young friend, are a cat’s paw. Jones is using you to get all of our thumbprints, but that still doesn’t mean he’s working for Ross. He could be a confederate. Or working for yet another interested party.”
Amadeus felt sick rising up from his stomach. He focused on it and forced it back down. His hands shook. He hadn’t felt like this since before his graduation speech. If only he had some paper to chew.
“But if Jones was working with Ross, then why didn’t he just kill me at the lab? Why let me go?”
“Maybe Jones or Ross or whoever believe there is new research. Maybe the demon in New York wasn’t meant to kill you. Again, who can know what is in men’s hearts? But about one thing, there is no maybe: they will be here soon,” Laroux said. “They follow your craft, your movements. And now that you’ve found me, they have everything they need. But it’s not your fault. How could you know?” In the distance, a monkey howled with either delight or fear. Amadeus couldn’t tell the difference.
“That bastard,” Amadeus said. “My friends are still there with him.”
Laroux said nothing, only arched an eyebrow. “Before I give you my thumbprint, you need to remove the communications hardware from your little phone. Make it so it is only a storage device. Not only can they track you, but once you have my information, they’ll probably be able to read all of the schematics.”
“Damn,” Amadeus said, slapping his forehead. “How did I miss that?”
40
Amadeus opened the phone and, with tremendous care and a tiny screwdriver, removed an even tinier wireless chip. The phone rebooted without problems. He asked Laroux for his fingerprint.
“That’s a big risk, carrying this information around. If Jones or Ross get it, it’s all over. Now they can make them, but with this they can most likely make them even better, even more. Plus they would have a monopoly on this information. Are you prepared to take responsibility for that?”
“If I want to learn how these gates work and find a way to destroy them, I have to be. Worst comes to worst, I’ll destroy this thing, smash it under my foot.”
“You’re a confident boy,” Laroux said.
“I wasn’t always,” Amadeus said.
Laroux smiled at him. “I haven’t told you yet,” he said, motioning for the phone, “but I thought your father was a wonderful man. He really did have grand aspirations. The world is a darker place without him.” He placed his thumb on the touch screen, pressed scan, allowed the lance to prick his finger, then handed the phone back to Amadeus.
“I seem to hear that a lot, but you know what I think now? I think this is all his fault. If he would’ve stuck to his original research, none of this would’ve happened.”
“Death does things to a man,” Laroux said. “He becomes a stranger to himself.” Amadeus said nothing, just looked at his feet. “But the fear of death, in the sane man, makes him do even more momentous things. Look around you, Amadeus. These temples were built so the ancient Khmer kings could have immortality. They wanted to last through the ages. Few remember their deeds, but everyone sees what they created.”
They descended the smooth stone stairs and walked back across the great stone bridge, a bridge that once supported kings, armies, and elephants. The sun had burnt away the mist. The day had grown hot. Amadeus noticed his forehead and arms were covered in a thin layer of sweat. He also noticed that since the nausea had passed, his stomach was growling. He eyed the food vendors set up in the shade near the temple.
“You mind if we stop for food? I’m wicked hungry,” Amadeus said.
“Ah, the food here, it’s probably bush meat…but I would like to eat too.”
The second they started walking towards the vendors, a Khmer woman in an apron waved a menu at them, calling in nasal tones, “You eat my restaurant, you buy from me. Best food in Angkor Wat.”
“Okay, let’s go eat her restaurant,” Laroux said, giving Amadeus a sly grin. Amadeus shrugged and followed her to her restaurant, which was nothing more than a few tables covered in red-checked table cloths and a food cart. Amadeus ordered Pad Thai, Laroux Beef Lok Lak.
“The shade is nice,” Amadeus said, trying not to touch the sticky table cloth. He put his foot up on the chair across from him as he waited on his breakfast. The sounds around them, the calling of the restaurant women, bird songs, a gentle breeze rus
tling the tree above him, these lulled him into a peaceful state. He thought he could sleep.
Laroux was smoking a cigarette and looked like he was contemplating the mysteries of the universe. Amadeus appreciated that Laroux could let him sit in silence. Their food arrived and they started to eat. “Bon appétit,” Laroux said. How French, Amadeus thought, digging into his pad thai. The noodles were rich and greasy, and he didn’t spend enough time chewing. A couple minutes into their meal, Laroux squinted and craned his neck to look around a group of Chinese men smoking cigarettes.
“Amadeus,” he said, “some men are staring at us, at you. And they’re wearing suits. Nobody wears suits in this heat. Don’t look now. Sink down in your seat a bit.” Amadeus sunk. “That’s good. In just a moment, we’re going to get moving. We’ll go out behind the carts. On back, there are some trees and paths. We cut through there, and then go out the back way, behind the temple.”
Laroux left some money on the table, enough for the meals and a generous tip. Keeping his head down, Laroux scuttled away from the table and between the food carts. Amadeus did the same, but Amadeus spun around to look. When he did, he knocked a big wok off the food cart. Rice, noodles, and hot oil splattered onto the well-trampled ground.
“Ahh!” the food cart lady yelled at him. “My food! You ruin my food.”
She smacked Amadeus with a wooden spoon as she yelled at him in a torrent of English and Khmer. Laroux turned around and told him to hurry up, but the lady blocked his path. “You break you buy!” She smacked Amadeus’ butt with her wooden spoon.
The Chinese men pulled out cameras and began taking photos. Flash bulbs went off as Amadeus defended himself from the lady.
“We must run now,” Laroux said, shoving a handful of dollars into the free hand of the food cart lady. That seemed to satisfy her, but the Chinese men were on their feet, pointing, laughing, high-fiving each other. Laroux took off into the woods. Amadeus followed close behind. He knew he shouldn’t, but he looked back. Through the space between the food carts he could see four men running after them.
“They’re coming,” Amadeus said.
“Then keep running.”
“That’s the plan.”
They dashed along a brown dirt road, striking in contrast to the green forest all around them. Every footfall kicked up a cloud of dust. Laroux cut onto a smaller path through a stand of Banyan trees. The roots reminded Amadeus of veins bulging from the ground.
Amadeus looked back. They were growing closer. He heard them yelling to each other, their voices nasal and high-pitched. When the trees thinned out, Amadeus could see the temple to their right. Laroux stumbled over a tree root. Amadeus pulled him up by the arm. The men drew closer.
They came to the back wall, high blocks of pockmarked grey and maroon laterite stacked atop of each other. Splotches of green moss covered the lower blocks. Two hundred meters to the right, directly behind the temple, the rear exit. Laroux pointed to it.
Someone fired a pistol. The report thundered through the quiet jungle. Monkeys howled in fear. Ahead of him, where the bullet had struck, Amadeus watched a cloud of dust sparkle in the morning light. While looking at this, Amadeus stumbled, catching himself just before he lost his balance. More gunshots pftwted in the dirt beside him. Amadeus’ heart tried to outrun him, smashing against his chest, forcing blood through his veins. The rear gate growing closer.
“Outside,” Laroux said, between gasps of breath, “will be motorcycles, drivers waiting on passengers. We will buy one. No tuktuk, only a moto. Or steal one. Whatever is easier.” He said something else in French. Amadeus didn’t understand, but it sounded like cursing.
The entrance of the back gate had support columns. They bounded up the stairs and ran through the stone portico. On the other side, just as Laroux had said, a few Khmer drivers reclined in the back of their tuk-tuks, smoking cigarettes. They gave Amadeus and Laroux a half-interested look, unperturbed by the gunshots
One guy stood beside his bike, talking on his mobile phone. Laroux ran to him and shoved a wad of U.S. dollars into his hand. Surprised and visibly vexed, he looked down and started counting the money. As he did, Laroux hopped on the moto and stomped the kick starter. The moto puttered and coughed but didn’t start. The driver started yelling while trying to pull Laroux off. Amadeus pushed the driver. He staggered and fell onto the dirt. Amadeus muttered an apology. The other drivers hopped out of their tuktuks and crept towards them. One held a crescent wrench.
Laroux tried again. No joy.
Amadeus heard footsteps clobbering stone as the men passed through the gate. The Khmer drivers pointed at them, at their guns. Laroux kicked the moto one last time and it wheezed to life. Amadeus hopped on and Laroux took off. Gun shots cracked behind them. Amadeus turned to see the drivers with their hands raised above their heads. One writhed in the dirt, clutching his arm. Laroux opened up the throttle and the moto whined in protest. A plume of dust and smoke rose behind them.
Amadeus again turned to look. The men had taken a tuk-tuk. One was driving, another leaning out the side, aiming a pistol at them. He fired. Ping! The auto bike’s mirror shattered. They raced on, though Amadeus doubted the bike was going over 70km/hr. They fired more shots, but the distance between was growing and their shots became less accurate. The road changed from dirt to asphalt and the ride became less bumpy. Laroux downshifted and the moto lurched, carrying them even farther away from the men and their heavy tuk-tuk. Soon they were out of sight of the men.
Eventually they came to a fork in the road. Laroux chose the left fork. Amadeus tried to talk to Laroux, but he couldn’t yell loud enough to compete with the engine. Instead he just held on and hoped for the best.
After following the left fork for awhile, the forest changed to fields and rice paddies. Behind them was only an empty stretch of road. He guessed the men had chosen the right fork which, fortunately for them, was the wrong fork. Amadeus patted Laroux’s shoulder. Laroux gave him a thumbs-up and shifted to a higher gear, giving the little moto a break. They passed a blue-green lake. Pink lotus flowers floated on calm water.
Amadeus thought about Lilly back in Colorado, and then Grassal. How could he tell her that her father might be a bad guy? She was already suspicious of him, that might make it easier. How could he get them out of there? And what about Gravity? Where was he? And whose side was he on? The wind rippled his hair as rode. Laroux drove past the lake and through more fields going to who knew where. They passed through some small villages and soon the rice paddies changed back into jungle. Laroux turned off the paved road, onto a brown dirt road that cut through the woods.
“Going through here to hide out for a while,” Laroux said. He drove slower, taking care to avoid the ruts and potholes. Amadeus thought the speed was still much too fast for such a road. This was the middle of nowhere, miles from anywhere. Amadeus wondered what they would do if the bike broke down. At least he would have time to figure out what to do. This had to end soon. He would take the fight to Ross…if only he could find him; what had Grassal said? That he was “as elusive as a yeti.” Laroux hit a deep rut, jarring Amadeus’ brain. The bike sputtered, coughed and finally died.
*
They stood in a chattering sea of green and brown, the road their only lifeline to the outside world. Laroux looked around and nodded. He looked confident, like a man in his element. Amadeus, however, felt anxiety constricting his breath.
“I know where we are,” Laroux said. “Don’t worry. We need to stay low for a while anyway. You can be sure our visitors are searching every road and guesthouse around Siem Reap. Maybe a half-day’s walk from here, I have a friend who lives at a little hermitage. Isolated, unknown to most foreigners, and most importantly, safe. Besides, we don’t really have much choice,” Laroux said. “Eventually, they will give up. Maybe they will think you left. So long as the little modification you made to your phone works.”
Laroux took off walking, pumping his arms like the middle-aged ladies he us
ed to see walking down his road, little pink weights in their hands, swinging arms propelling them on. Amadeus shrugged and followed.
“Please, tell me more about your airship. You say Jones built this?” He turned off the road and started down a little unmarked path into the jungle.
“That’s right, he used nanosteel. It’s the only one of its kind.”
“So he knows exactly where you are at all times. You think that’s right?”
“Lilly says he probably tracks the airship, yes. It’s his investment.”
“Can he control it?”
“Hmm,” Amadeus said. “I don’t think so. There’s automated navigation equipment and some fail–safe systems.”
“Fail–safe. And what does a fail–safe do?
“It takes control of the craft in emergencies,” Amadeus said. He smacked his forehead as he realized what this meant: Jones could shut him down at any time.
“If this is the case, you must be a fox, clever and full of guile,” Laroux said. The jungle around them was a wall of thick green. He heard some rustling overhead. A grey monkey flung itself from one tree to the next. The monkey seemed to be following them.
“Right. I can’t let him know what I know.”
“In the times of kings and courtiers,” Laroux said, “the fool was often the one who knew the most. Since he was usually of common stock and unable to attain office, people confided in him; he was only a fool. Often he knew more than the king and was a good person to have on your side. Why?”
“Because everyone underestimated him,” Amadeus said.
“Exactly,” Laroux said. “And because people underestimated him, he was the most dangerous courtier of all.” The monkey howled and made his next jump.
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