by Jacob Whaler
“What’s the bottom line?”
“Despite our best efforts, we may have paid good money for the land in Fukushima to a party that had no right to sell it.” The woman turns to look at Mercer. “The Chinese have threatened to go public with their knowledge of the domes. They don’t yet know the ultimate purpose, and they haven’t yet managed to link all of this to the Cloud. But it’s only a matter of time. They’re poking around. Asking questions. It gets increasingly difficult to fabricate convincing lies.”
Is this how it all ends?
Mercer’s hands harden into fists. As his pulse spikes, he struggles to keep control of his breathing and his voice. “And what do you propose to do about this . . . situation?” He draws in a deep breath.
“Don’t worry.” The woman smiles. “I've already dealt with it. All inquiries have ceased. Permission has been granted at the highest level for you to proceed. It’s a dead issue.”
Exhaling, Mercer reaches for a drink to calm his nerves. “How were you able to do it? Sounds much too easy.”
“Oh, it wasn’t easy.” The woman turns and leans her back into the window. “The Chinese were demanding, as always. I had to make a sacrifice.”
“What sacrifice?”
“The whole of Genesis Corporation.”
Mercer chokes on his drink. Blood rushes to his face. “Explain.”
“Genesis Corporation will become a wholly owned subsidiary of the Chinese People’s Liberation Army. But don’t worry. I negotiated a special clause that delays the effective date of the deal until ten days from now. By then, none of this will matter.”
It takes Mercer several minutes of silence to absorb the news. Long enough for him to ingest a double dose of the blue liquid and consume an entire lemon, section by section. By the time he’s done chewing, he is calm enough to respond.
“Why didn’t you bring this to my attention earlier?”
“It only happened today. There wasn’t time to consult you. The Chinese aren’t patient. They demanded an immediate answer."
“In that case, well done.” Mercer feels a sense of equilibrium return to his mind and body. “Ten days from now, there won't be any People’s Liberation Army. It’s a non-issue.”
“I assumed you would approve.” The woman allows a slight smile.
Mercer senses that below her matter-of-fact efficiency is a yearning for revenge for the years she has toiled beneath him doing what he couldn’t stomach doing himself.
The little blue molecules flood Mercer’s brain, replacing stress and rage with clarity and acceptance. “Let’s move on to another topic."
“Of course.”
“Are the invitations ready for tomorrow?” Mercer says.
“They are.” The woman walks closer. “They will go out just as Earth passes through the outer reaches of the Cloud and makes the Mesh go crazy."
“And transportation?”
The woman nods. “All arranged. One way flights for two thousand lucky people from around the world to the facilities in Fukushima.”
“And what is your opinion?” Mercer asks.
“Of what?”
“The two thousand.”
The woman sits on a black sofa and crosses her legs. “Based on exhaustive analysis, the group is young, genetically robust and possesses the skills and knowledge to reboot civilization.”
“I already know the results of the analysis. I commissioned it. I asked your opinion.”
The woman smiles thinly. “I make a point of never having an opinion. It can be dangerous.”
“Lay aside your fear.” Mercer opens his hands, palms up. “I welcome your views. I need you to challenge me. With decisions of such importance, it's useful to have someone play the devil’s advocate.”
“And you want me to be the devil?”
Mercer nods. “Don’t worry. You’re on the list.” His hands clasp behind his neck. “It’s a heavy responsibility. To decide who will live and who will die. To determine the makeup of the new civilization. A responsibility I take seriously.”
“OK, I’ll play the devil’s advocate, for the sake of helping you think through the process.”
“Thank you.”
“For starters, I’ve seen the list of animals you’re going to allow to survive.” She slides out a jax and gazes down. “Exotic creatures of every kind. But no spiders or rats or cockroaches. Orange and lemon trees. Palm and mango trees but no lowly apple trees or Russian olives. Cats but no dogs. Chickens, but not a single cow or pig. And then the people.”
“What about them?”
“I’ve reviewed the psychological and genetic profiles of the lucky few on the list. It seems they are extremely smart but almost completely devoid of aggressive tendencies.” The woman looks up from the slate.
“Space is limited. Hard choices were forced upon me.”
“You’re trying to eliminate the possibility of a coup, the possibility that anyone will challenge your leadership and try to take over.”
“Very perceptive.” Mercer picks up a lemon slice. “Do you fault me?”
“No.” The woman pushes herself off the sofa and stands, hands behind her back. “Your leadership will play an important role in the survival of the community. But what will happen after you die? Without at least some seeds of aggression, the descendants of your proposed gene pool will be highly intelligent but might lack the will to survive. I’d say it puts the long-term viability of humanity in question. Is that smart?”
Mercer nods. “That is the prerogative of power. I have to trust my instincts to build the world I think is best.”
“Best for whom? And for what purpose? What sort of world are you going to build, Mr. Mercer? From the looks of it, I’d say you’re trying to create a personal paradise. A place where you will rule without question. A place where your personal tastes and preferences will be forced onto others. I foresee a distinct lack of diversity. That is my opinion, as a devil’s advocate.”
For an instant, Mercer says nothing. No one has ever spoken to him with such frankness and honesty, at least not since his father died. His eyes widen, and the woman goes out of focus.
She bows her head. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. I was only trying to do what you asked.”
“And you did an admirable job.”
“Thank you.” She smiles. “May I ask one more question?”
“Of course.”
“What about her? Have you given up?”
“Who?”
“Qaara Kapoor.”
Mercer feels a flush of heat. “She is no longer relevant.”
“But you wanted her, didn’t you?” The woman turns her back to Mercer as her eyes drop to her slate. “She was on the list. Next to your name. Her official psychological profile is a perfect fit with the model. It is the model.”
“That will be enough.” Mercer grinds his teeth together and swallows a large chunk of lemon rind. “Please leave me now."
The woman heads for the door. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow. It should be a beautiful evening. The whole City will be up to watch the lights. The end of one world, the beginning of another.”
The door clicks shut. When it does, Mercer reaches for his slate and pulls up the list of names. His at the top, next to Qaara’s. He scrolls down until he finds what he’s looking for.
The woman’s name.
With a single brush of his finger, he deletes it.
40
MIL-SPEC
“This is pure suicide.”
Jedd slips his hands off the handlebars of his moving gyropod, does a deep backbend and glances through the pouring rain two meters to his right.
Ricky taps the bluescreen on his cycle, lowering the volume on the motor-tone. “Moses isn’t one to let a little thing like reality get in the way of his grand plans,” he whispers.
“Especially with this freaky weather.” Jedd feels big drops pounding on his head. “Moses thinks it’s a sign from heaven. Like he says, God is with me.”
>
“Hard to blame him.” Raindrops wash Ricky’s face. “A storm like this comes once every five years here in the Zone, if that often. Remember when we were kids? It was a time of celebration. Made you think God hadn’t forsaken you after all. No wonder they’re all happy and pumped up. Ready to follow Moses even to a certain death."
On their left, a woman in green fatigues drives a jeep. Her passenger points a mounted machine gun in the general direction of Jedd’s head. Supply trucks, fuel trucks, transports, howitzers and tanks fan out on either side to their rear.
An army of thousands in the middle of nowhere. A dream come true for a man like Moses.
Jedd can see how it all happened.
When Moses found the first hidden army base, it gave him an overwhelming advantage in the struggle for supremacy in the Zone. It didn’t take long for word to get out. With no other choice, the other clans flocked to Moses, begging to be part of the winning team. Like Genghis Kahn. If there’s one thing that inhabitants of the Zone understand, it’s real power.
And now Moses wants to take on the City.
Jedd returns to the one thought he’s tried to push away.
Where’s Qaara?
Chest tightening, he cranes his neck at the mass of machines and armor grinding behind, scanning for a glimpse of her.
“Moses promised Qaara wouldn’t be harmed if we got him within sight of the City. You heard him, Ricky?”
“Yes, but that was Moses talking. I’m not sure he can be trusted. I never saw her after they took her away.” Ricky flicks a chunk of mud off the sleeve of his gray camouflage uniform. “She’s probably locked away in one of the tanks.”
Jedd growls through clenched teeth. “If he touches her, I’ll kill him.”
“I’d be happy if you did that anyway. But right now, we have bigger problems.” Low rolling hills lie beyond the open plain ahead. "Like getting this whole army through the Divide. And staying alive when the attack comes.”
“I tried to prepare Moses.” Jedd closes his eyes and takes in the aroma of wet earth. “Told him we’d have to move single file through the Divide. Tried to tell him that he’d suffer heavy losses once we got close to the City. Tried to explain to him what clusters of arc-lasers can do to human flesh, even if it’s hidden behind hardened steel."
“He’s as stubborn as ever.” Ricky scans to the right and left. “So what’s our plan?”
“Our plan? How about this? Get as close as we can to the City. Wait for the inevitable attack to come, and then, when the shooting starts, stay alive long enough to find Qaara and slip away.”
“Not much of a plan.”
“You got a better one?”
Ricky leans forward, turning up the volume on the motor-tone just a bit. “She whispered something to me just before they took her away.”
“About what?”
“The Cloud.” Ricky contemplates the dark sky, rain in his eyes. “She said the Earth will enter the Cloud tomorrow night. We might be in sight of the City by then, if we're still alive and we keep up this pace.”
“Those are big ifs.” Jedd shakes his head. “The City's detectors are bound to pick up our movement while we’re still a hundred klicks away. And then we’ll be toast.”
“Qaara thinks there’s a chance the City won’t detect us.”
“What?” Jedd’s grip on the gyropod tightens. “Tell me exactly what she said.”
“It was just a quick conversation.” Ricky stares ahead. “Just before they marched her off to see Moses.”
“Why’d she tell you and not me?”
“Look, that doesn’t matter. It’s technical stuff, and she knew I’d understand.”
“Keep talking.”
“Qaara saw an analysis of the Cloud material. When the Earth gets closer to it, she thinks it might interact with the upper atmosphere, like a coronal mass ejection. There could be high energy particles—”
“Just tell me what it means.”
“Interference with communications. Anything that uses the electromagnetic spectrum could be messed up.” Ricky looks ahead, as if pointing in the direction of the City with his nose. “It might shut down the City’s detectors, making it, and the whole world, effectively blind.”
“They might not detect us? We might actually get close?”
“Maybe. Can’t be sure. Besides, when Earth is engulfed by the Cloud, the City might not be paying much attention to things in our direction.”
Jedd relaxes and focuses forward through the rain, letting his mind take in this new information. “Even if this army makes it within sight of the City, they’ll still be easy targets. Fighters will scramble and destroy the whole Family in minutes, if not seconds."
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean, maybe?”
“Think about it.” Ricky’s lips go thin, almost turning into a smile. “The heli-fighters, their targeting systems, their weapons, communications, even the Mesh. All of it works through the e-mag spectrum. If that’s fried, nothing will work. The City will be a sitting duck.”
“What about the tanks and trucks?” Jedd’s arm motions out across the field behind him. “Will they still function?”
“All this equipment’s over a century old. And it’s probably mil-spec."
“What?”
“Built to military specifications. Probably won’t be affected by an ion-storm. The equipment is too primitive.”
“Did you or Qaara tell Moses about the Cloud or any of the rest of this?”
Ricky shakes his head. “Not a word.”
Jedd lowers his voice. “I don’t believe it. Moses might actually pull this off.”
41
KILLER
Promise me you won’t hurt them.
No answer.
The aroma of curry fills the kitchen and makes Luca’s stomach sing. She hasn’t eaten a real meal for three days and yearns to grab a spoon and take a sample. Stepping back, she watches Rika make the final preparations.
Rika brings the dipper to her lips. “Just a drop of honey and a touch more cumin.” Rika slowly stirs and stares down, as though brooding over the food. Finally, she turns to Luca. “Here. See what you think.”
Luca can’t help herself and lunges to the outstretched spoon, mouth open to receive the offering.
“How is it?” Rika’s eyebrows lift.
“Perfect.”
“I’m glad it’s finally done.” Rika gazes down at the pot, stirring gently. Potatoes, carrots and onions float in a sea of glossy brown sauce. Steam rises from the bubbles. “Can you carry it outside to the others?”
“Happy to.” Luca takes a deep inhale. “They will be so grateful.”
Rika picks up the pot of rice by the handles. “You think so?” She grins. “Though it doesn’t really matter.”
They both walk out the front door. Luca follows Rika to a wooden table where they set the two pots side by side.
“Dinner’s ready,” Rika says. “I used the last of my curry mix. It will hide the taste of the vegetables. They’re a little old.”
In less than ten seconds, the girls form a ring around the table, staring at the two pots.
“I’ll get bowls and spoons. Nothing fancy.” Rika turns and slowly walks back into the house.
Luca hasn’t looked inside Rika’s mind since they started making the meal. But now she is drawn back with an irresistible pull, as though Rika wants Luca to see and hear everything.
Watch carefully, Luca. I’ll show you what I’ve learned. You have no idea of the power we share.
The words echo in Luca’s head. Her heart races and her palms sweat. All she can do is answer in the same way, mind to mind.
Please, Rika, don’t hurt them. They need food. That’s all. And then we’ll be gone. I promise.
Gentle laughter snakes through Rika’s mind like water seeping through a crack in the wall.
We’re so much stronger than they are. Besides, you only just got here. I don’t want you to go. I’ll be so lon
ely without you.
Rika exits from the front of the house holding a stack of white bowls balanced in one hand and a dozen spoons in the other. The ring of girls opens, and Rika walks to the table, handing the bowls to Luca and laying the spoons out in the shape of a fan.
“This is a special day.” Rika stands beside Luca and scans the circle of girls. Picking up a bowl, she drops in a big scoop of rice and then pours golden curry on top. Lumps of potato and carrot float in the sauce. Steam rises from its surface. Turning, she hands the first bowl to Luca. "My best friend has finally come home. I want her to be the first to eat.”
The sea in Rika’s mind starts to ripple.
Fingers trembling, Luca reaches to take the bowl. “Thank you.” She tries to look away, afraid of what she might see, but her eyes meet Rika’s before moving to Zero and Giraffe, standing behind her. Luca no longer feels like eating.
Please, don’t hurt them.
“Aren’t you going to try it?” Rika says. “We're all waiting.”
Eyes stinging, Luca dips in her spoon, pushing it through the brown surface to the rice beneath, digging in and scooping up. She brings it to her mouth, dripping, but stops to look into Rika’s eyes.
I won’t let you hurt them.
The curry goes into Luca’s mouth. She gently chews. “Delicious. The best I’ve ever had."
Cheers rise from the others.
On the surface of Rika’s mind, the ripples begin to coalesce into small waves.
They tortured you. They must be punished.
“There’s plenty for everyone.” Grinning, Rika hands a steaming bowl to Zero. “Enjoy it. After all you’ve done, you deserve to have your fill.”
Zero takes the bowl, eyes wide, and bows deeply. He leaves the group and sits on the porch to enjoy the meal.
See his selfishness. He eats first, not thinking of the others. Now watch.
“Such a big man. You must be hungry.” Rika gazes up at Giraffe. Taking her time, she picks out chunks of potato and makes an especially large bowl of the curry.
