by Jacob Whaler
Mercer walks to the left. “And now, I would like to introduce one of our most recent guests. She came with me on the flight today.”
Qaara walks on screen wearing a gorgeous royal blue sari, dark hair falling over her shoulders. An Indian princess.
“Hello, friends.” Qaara intertwines her arm with Mercer’s. “It's good to be here instead of out there.” She beams at Mercer.
They have all the marks of a couple in love.
For an eternity of seconds, Jedd and Ricky say nothing.
“How?” Jedd stutters.
“Must be a trick,” Ricky says.
“Most of you recognize this beautiful woman.” Mercer looks into the camera. “Her name is Qaara Kapoor, inventor of that amazing substance known worldwide as Graff. She accomplished great research and development work for me while at Genesis Corporation. It’s a special honor to have her as part of this new project.”
Jedd strains against his bonds, yelling and screaming, pulling and stretching the gooey stuff on his hands and wrists until it flashes into hard glass and he isn’t able to move. As it softens, he collapses into a ball.
“Mercer is forcing her to do this.” Jedd looks to Ricky for confirmation.
“Probably threatened to kill us if she didn’t cooperate,” Ricky says. “Like Mercer said, he’s using us for leverage.”
Jedd pulls against the gooey material until it turns hard again. “What do we do?”
“Wait for Qaara.”
62
GLOBULES
She plays the role to perfection.
Mercer congratulates himself on the decision to keep the two slum rats from the Fringe alive. The threat of their agonizing death is an ever-present motivation for Qaara to do as Mercer commands.
He opens a feed from one of the cameras on the outside of the domes. “The balls are growing at an alarming speed. Look at this.”
On a bluescreen next to the table, Qaara sees the black balls, already the size of apples and almost metallic in appearance. They clutter the ground and cling to trees and rocks.
The bluescreen switches to a rotating view of the interior of the domes, showing hallways, auditoriums and individual apartments.
“It’s amazing what you’ve done here.” Qaara walks through the spacious quarters. “Now that I’ve seen it with my own eyes, I’m sorry I didn’t accept your offer much earlier.”
“No need to overdo the acting.” Mercer moves to a counter and picks up a glass of amber liquid. “But I do think in time, once you understand all the preparation and thought I've put into preserving our world, you will see the wisdom in what I’ve done.”
“In the meantime, you will not harm my friends.” Qaara says it firmly, as a statement and not as a question.
Mercer lifts his open palms. “I am a man of my word. As long as you cooperate, your friends will be comfortable and cared for.”
One of the views on the bluescreen shows Jedd and Ricky in sitting positions, backs to walls, in a holding cell.
“They don’t look comfortable to me.” Qaara says.
“It’s a necessary precaution until the end—and the new beginning—finally arrives. After that, I’ll consider releasing them into the general population, under supervision.”
“Supervision?”
“Referring to my well-armed and well-trained security apparatus here in New Earth Colony.”
“Of course.” Qaara walks to the door. “It seems you’ve thought of everything.”
“You will see the wisdom of all I’ve done.” Mercer holds up his hand. “But until then, I suggest you rest and observe.” He motions to the spacious quarters. “Please enjoy the accommodations. If you need anything, just let me know.” He drops a jax on the table and walks to the door.
As he passes Qaara, he stops, takes her hand and places a memory cube in her upturned palm.
“What’s this?”
“For your reference,” Mercer says. “Only this cube has a full set of files on the Cloud and all my work on it.”
“Why are you giving it to me?”
“You’ll have time while the world is ending. Study it. Get mentally prepared for what’s coming so you’ll be of more use to me and the project when it’s time to rebuild. I’ll need your best thinking.”
Rage shoots through Qaara’s veins. “You should have uploaded this onto the Mesh months ago.”
“And spoil the game? Not a chance.” A panel slides open into a well-lit hallway. Mercer nods to two men in black armor who stand outside.
“So this is my cell?”
The door closes behind him, entombing her in a silence made deeper by a low-frequency hum emanating from the walls and floor.
Moving her hands along the wall near the door, she searches for a mechanism to open it and finds none.
And then she notices a small bump under her wrist where the skin is a pale shade of red.
Tracker implant.
Turning, she walks to the table and picks up the jax. She discovers that it gives her limited access to the Mesh, the abbreviated version that exists in the domes. It also allows her to call or message Mercer. And it gives her control over the feeds coming into the bluescreen from across the world or inside the dome.
She stares at the view of Jedd and Ricky onscreen and fiddles with the jax, searching in vain for a way to communicate with them.
Scenes from the world catch her attention.
One is a city square with signs in Spanish. Roaming crowds move through a street, marveling at the steel-black balls, some the size of grapefruits, plastered to the pavement, trees and buildings in a neat grid configuration.
Then she stumbles onto a news program. The announcer’s voice plays in the background.
It’s a sight the world has never seen. After more than a day without the Mesh, and with only minimal functionality restored, the globe is now waking up to the reality of spherical pods that have spontaneously generated out of ash and now stick to everything.
It all seems to have been triggered when planet Earth passed through a solitary cloud of dust floating in the solar system. Scientists are unable to determine the composition of the sticky globs that cling to surfaces of all kinds. People around the world have taken to bringing the beautiful objects inside to decorate their homes—
Feeling the onrush of nausea, Qaara turns the screen off.
The killer molecule is about to be unleashed on an unsuspecting world.
There’s got to be a way out of my cell. Got to be a way to stop this whole crazy thing from happening.
63
ANOTHER VOICE
What can we do? Luca asks.
Alice scans memories and images that roll through her mind.
“I’m a scientist.” Alice closes her eyes. “A plant scientist. I know that plants have a kind of consciousness. I’ve seen them respond to sound, even words. And now, you’ve confirmed it.”
It’s easy to hear plants and insects. They don’t hide anything.
“That is a wonderful gift you have, child. And now you’ve told me you’ve heard the Voice of the Cloud. It’s alive. It’s conscious. And you’ve heard it. You’ve connected with it. Maybe that’s the answer.”
Tell me.
Alice flips her eyes open. “Can you talk to it, child? Can you make the Cloud listen to you? Help it understand the terrible destruction it’s going to cause? The loss of life.”
I’ve tried, but it’s so huge. It’s searching. Everywhere. Everything. Maybe it's too busy. Maybe it’s not listening. Maybe my voice is too small. Maybe it can’t hear me. Maybe it will never hear me.
Fear floods Luca’s chest, making it difficult to breathe.
“And maybe it will. You’re a miracle-child, Luca. I can see it. I can feel it. Keep trying.” Alice stands, moving her arms. “Quick, everyone, clear a place for Luca in the corner where she can have some peace and quiet. To concentrate.”
Luce sits in the open space, her back against the wall. Pulling in a deep
breath and closing her eyes, she opens her mind.
Layers of voices flood in. She hears the background music of plants and insects outside the domes. Below that, the chatter of minds from thousands of people on the inside. If she tries, she can pick out individual thoughts and images, like rummaging through a box of old pictures.
Under it all, a deep foundation, the low-frequency movement of the Voice, pushing, searching, hungry to find what it’s looking for.
Blocking out all else, she focuses on it, straining to make herself heard. Straining to make contact.
I’m here. Please answer.
After an hour without contact, Luca opens her eyes, exhausted.
It doesn’t hear me. It’s searching but not listening.
“Keep trying, child. Keep trying. You’ll get through. You’re all we have left.”
Luca withdraws into her mind, drifting through a crowd of voices as she travels to the lower end of the spectrum where the Cloud is most active.
One the way there, she moves past another voice that catches her attention. She backs up and listens carefully. She can tell from the feel of the mind that it’s a woman. Her words are clear and desperate.
Open the door. Tell the world. Fight Mercer. Fight the Cloud. Mercer said it’s alive. Find a way to connect with it. Stop it from killing.
Is it a command or a wish?
No time. Luca jumps to her feet and runs to Alice, thinking the words.
I have to go.
“Go?” Alice’s eyes open wide. “You can't go outside. We’d never see you again.”
She needs help.
“Who?”
I don’t know. She’s calling. Maybe I can help her. Maybe she can help me connect with the Cloud.
Luca runs to the door.
Alice shakes her head. “Please don’t leave, child. Mercer’s men will find you. We’ll never see you again.”
Luca points to the other girls.
I have to. Take care of them.
Alice shakes her head, tears welling up. “I don’t know what you’re doing, child, but if anyone can do it, I believe you can."
Thank you.
Luca waits for the door to open and enters the hall.
Alone.
64
LOOK AWAY
Tell the world. Fight Mercer. Fight the Cloud. Open the door.
Qaara stands inches from the door, one hand closed around the memory cube from Mercer. Her other hand is curled into a fist, beating on the door’s panels, rage rising in her chest.
“Open the door!” she yells.
I will not stay here while Mercer abandons the world to its fate.
Taking a step back, Qaara stares at the ceiling and screams.
The door slides open.
A Japanese girl stands in the hallway, large eyes looking up through dark eyelashes. Two guards lie on the floor at her feet.
The girl walks through the door, and it slides shut behind her.
Qaara backs up. “Who are you?”
I heard you calling. You want to fight the Cloud, find a way to connect with it. Stop it from killing. So do I. Maybe I can help you.
The words blast into Qaara’s mind as if coming from speakers implanted in her brain. She stumbles backward, her free hand coming up to her forehead, eyes going to the bluescreen and then scanning the room for the source of the sound.
It’s me. Standing in front of you.
No way, Qaara thinks. Can’t be. Impossible. How can this girl be speaking directly to my mind? Mercer must have drugged me.
Qaara crouches on the floor, shaking her head, trying to wake up from the hallucination.
Please believe me. Don’t be afraid. I’m here to help. We can work together.
“How do you do that?” Qaara stares at the girl.
I think the words, and you hear them in your head. You think the words, and I hear them in my head.
Qaara’s eyes narrow. “But—”
I can’t explain it. It just happens.
“How did you find me?”
I followed your voice. I heard it in my mind. It brought me here where the sound is strongest.
“You can hear other people’s . . . thoughts?”
Yes, all of them.
Qaara remembers the guards outside her door. “How did you kill the men outside my door?”
The girl shakes her head, vigorously.
I didn’t kill them. I never want to kill anyone. I just made them go to sleep. And they’re going to wake up soon.
“You can get inside people’s minds and control them?”
If I try, I can. I don’t like to do. It’s not good, to control people. To make their minds think what you want them to think. I heard you thinking about the Cloud. It's alive. I can hear its voice. I’ve been trying to talk to it so it won’t hurt anyone, but it’s not answering. It’s busy looking for something.
Qaara’s mind overflows like too much water in a small glass. She holds up a hand to stop the girl’s words booming in her mind. “Wait a minute. How do you know about the Cloud?"
I heard it five days ago, when I was at the Institution. I’ve been listening to it ever since, hearing it come closer. Now it’s everywhere.
“The Institution?”
Where I used to live. With the other girls who hear voices.
Slowly, the girl’s words begin to register in Qaara’s mind. She pieces it together, pushing back all the questions that arise, filling in the gaps with her intuition.
Qaara tries to make sense of the situation. The girl hears voices. Probably schizophrenic. Somehow, she can hear other people’s thoughts. She can put her own thoughts into their minds as words. A natural telepath. And she has some control over their minds. She made the guards collapse.
It’s crazy. Impossible. But the girl is right here, talking directly to Qaara’s mind.
I can help you if you just tell me what to do.
Qaara returns to the table and grabs the jax. With a few brushes of her finger along its edge, she pulls up a schematic of the domes, complete with descriptions of all the rooms.
In a few seconds, she finds what she needs.
Holding cells. It’s the most likely spot where Mercer is keeping Jedd and Ricky. In a different dome on the other side of the complex. Flipping through the schematic layers, she finds passive Mesh-nodes all over the complex. But they only permit one-way communication from the outside. None of the nodes allow her to get the message out to the world.
She stops to think. Which inhabitant of New Earth Colony is most likely to have full Mesh access?
The answer is obvious.
Searching for the largest living quarters, she finds one with spacious rooms and multiple Mesh-nodes. It’s got to be Mercer’s personal residence. If anyone has a way to communicate with the outside world, he does.
She pinpoints the location. In the next dome over.
One last item to take care of. She looks at the bump on her wrist where the tracking implant lies under the skin. Walking to the kitchen, she opens the drawers, looking for a knife.
But there aren’t any.
“Look away,” Qaara says.
Why are you going to hurt yourself?
“No choice.” She bends down, lips close to her wrist. Her teeth find the bump. Closing her eyes, she bites down. Hard.
Blood pours onto the floor. A round sphere with a thread-like tail falls from her lips. Ripping a strip of cloth from a towel in the kitchen, she ties it around her wrist, binding the wound, ignoring the pain.
She turns to the girl. “What’s your name?”
Luca, comes the reply.
Qaara freezes. “Luca?” She remembers a conversation with Mercer about the start of a new round of evolution. The LUCA. Last Universal Common Ancestor. Confusion floods her mind at the coincidence of the names. She’ll think about it later. No time to lose.
Making sure she has Mercer’s memory cube in one hand and her jax in the other, Qaara runs to the door. It opens. She s
toops down and strips the pulse rifles from the sleeping guards.
“Let’s go, Luca.”
65
SHATTERED GLASS
Jedd stares at the bluescreen in his cell. The image jumps to random locations around the world.
And stops.
At the North Entrance of Westminster Abbey, the Archbishop of Canterbury stands in full ceremonial dress. The abbey and its grounds are littered with the swelling spheres, lined up in neat rows like oversized ball bearings.
“It is a gift from heaven.” The Archbishop raises his hands. “A sign of approval. A symbol of the millennial rest that awaits us."
Many in the gathered crowd stoop to pick up the spheres, now larger than grapefruits, to take them home.
“If they only knew,” Ricky says, “they’d be running as far away as they could.”
“Running to where?” Jedd slams his fists into the floor and watches the gunk on his wrists harden into glass. “The spheres are everywhere, on every land, every structure. It's all going to be destroyed.” No matter how hard he slams it, the stuff on his hands won’t break. “If only I knew where Qaara was. I’d—”
We’re coming. Just wait.
Jedd freezes, eyes opening wide. He scans the room for the source of the words he just heard in his head. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“That voice.” Jedd slowly gets to his feet. “Something about coming."
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Ricky’s stares at the bluescreen. “There’s nothing here but us and the screen.”
Stand back from the door.
Jedd jumps and his bonds freeze again. He topples onto the floor. “Get away from the door!” he screams.
“What?” Ricky says. “You’re acting strange."
“Just do it,” Jedd says. “Slowly get up and follow me to the wall opposite the door.”
“OK.” Ricky follows Jedd’s lead.
There’s a heavy thud outside. Metal clatters to the floor. Another thud.
