“Yes, sir,” a slightly robotic voice replied instantly. “He is in the kitchen.”
George nodded, and a moment later he was standing in the doorway looking into the kitchen. He did a double take as he saw his son’s form hunched over the counter. He was staring off into space, the plate of food resting in front of him all but forgotten. That was unusual. His son normally took his meals in his suite upstairs.
“Hi, Alex,” George said, stepping into the kitchen.
His son jumped slightly and glanced up in surprise, his eyes widening further as he saw his father. He controlled his expression a moment later, but not before George had noted a strange look on his face. On anyone else, he would have called it fear. Dark circles hung under Alex’s eyes, as though he hadn’t been sleeping.
“Hello, father,” his son replied stiffly, turning back to his food and picking at it absently.
“Long day at school?” George asked as he stepped through the kitchen. It was late, but their cook had left a meal for him in the refrigerator. He retrieved it and placed it in the oven, the device having automatically heated up when the house registered that he had returned home. The AI had apparently learned his routine.
“Something like that,” Alex murmured. He seemed to hesitate for a second, his mouth opening and closing slightly as though he was considering his words carefully. “It’s been a while since we visited mother’s grave,” he finally said.
George’s eyes snapped to his son’s face. This was the first time Alex had mentioned his mother in recent memory. “It has been at least a few years,” George replied cautiously. In fact, he visited his wife’s grave every year on the anniversary of her death, but he had long ago stopped pressuring his son to come with him. “Would you like to go this weekend?” he asked tentatively.
A conflicted expression flitted across Alex’s face. “Maybe,” he said, eyes dropping back down to his plate.
“Well, just let me know. I can move a few things around if need be,” George said, taking a seat opposite Alex at the kitchen counter.
George couldn’t help but inspect his son discretely as he waited for his meal. He had almost given up hope on Alfred managing to help him. However, this terse, tense conversation was the most the two of them had spoken in weeks – and about Alex’s mother no less.
Despite this possible evidence of Alex’s improvement, doubts still clouded George’s mind as he considered Ryan’s recent report. Could Alex have been complicit in the break-in at Jason’s house? His head of security certainly seemed to think so. However, he would need to be careful about probing his son.
“My accountant was reconciling our personal expenses for this last month and noticed a large cash withdrawal a few days ago,” George began, breaking the heavy silence. “Do you remember what that was for?”
Alex accidentally dropped his fork, the metal utensil rattling sharply against the counter. He quickly grabbed at the offending instrument before it could tumble to the floor. “I… I’m not sure,” his son stuttered in reply, refusing to make eye contact with George. “I probably made a withdrawal to go out with some friends. There are a few places downtown that still accept cash – believe it or not.”
George nodded slightly, squinting as he inspected his son. “That makes sense. I’ll let the accountant know it was legitimate. He was a bit worried about possible fraud.” Despite his reassuring explanation, George was anything but calm. He couldn’t decide whether he was more concerned about the implications of Alex’s reaction or how his normally emotionless son had responded so violently.
“I… I have a question,” Alex said, still staring at his plate. “But it may sound a bit strange.”
“I’m all ears,” George replied, glancing up at his son.
“Do you ever…” he began before stopping and sighing in frustration. “Do you ever question your actions? Like, look back on what you’ve done and wonder whether you should have handled things differently.”
George cocked his head slightly as he considered Alex’s question. “Honestly, no. I learned years ago that hesitation prevents progress – I just need to keep charging forward. You can’t change the past, only learn from it and move on.” He chuckled softly. “I’ve managed large companies for most of my life. I firmly strangled that niggling, doubting voice in the back of my mind long ago.”
Alex finally looked up at him, meeting his gaze. His son’s eyes looked… haunted. George didn’t have a better word to describe it. A moment later, Alex glanced away again. “So, it’s a weakness,” his son muttered.
“Well, I don’t know if I would…” George began but was interrupted as a chime resounded through the house.
“Sir, a call is coming in for you,” the house’s AI reported.
George frowned in irritation. “I thought I told you to hold my calls in the evening.”
“This call is coming in from an exempt number and is marked as confidential,” the robotic voice replied calmly.
He glanced at Alex, noting the way his shoulders had slumped forward in resignation. George was about to tell the AI to hold the call – that this conversation seemed more important, but Alex chose that moment to stand abruptly. The legs of his stool scraped against the tiled floor as he backed away from the counter. “It’s fine. Take the call. I have some homework to do anyway.”
Alex immediately stepped out of the room, leaving his unfinished meal on the counter. George’s eyes followed his form as he disappeared into the hallway, his thoughts troubled. What was going on with Alex?
“Sir, would you like me to connect the call in your office?” the AI asked.
George ignored the AI. Something felt off with Alex, but perhaps this was a sign that Alfred’s influence was finally helping his son. He certainly seemed more “normal” – despite the depressing tenor of their conversation and the fact that something was clearly troubling him. Of course, that was putting aside the mounting circumstantial evidence that his son might have been involved in the death of two teenagers.
“Sir?” the AI nudged him when he didn’t respond.
“Yes… yes,” George replied in a distracted voice, before pushing himself away from the counter and grabbing his plate from the oven. That same doubting voice in the back of his mind urged him to walk after his son – to speak with him. Yet George firmly suppressed that worrying, nagging part of his mind. There were still things to do, and there was nowhere to go but forward.
***
When Jason first looked into the pool, he only saw his own reflection. His hood was pushed back, revealing his face. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and his mouth was pinched into a determined line, evidence of the long, grueling days he had spent searching for the Dark One’s grimoire with his teammates.
As he continued to stare into the water, an image slowly began to materialize. He saw the faint outline of what appeared to be a small statue, its surface reflecting a dull bronze glow. Jason’s brow wrinkled in confusion, and he tried to look away, only to find himself suddenly unable to move. A moment later, the world around him began to stutter and jerk, the moonlit cave slowly disappearing.
In the next instant, Jason was standing in what appeared to be the hallway of an upscale townhome. Dark mahogany boards ran the length of the floor, and the walls around him were riddled with picture frames – many housing medals and trophies. He could hear voices coming from down the hall, and he inched forward slowly, wincing as his footsteps caused the floorboards to creak.
As Jason rounded the corner of the hallway, he found himself standing in the entryway to a modern kitchen. Three people stood around an island in the center of the room. His eyes widened in shock as he immediately recognized the middle-aged man and woman standing in front of him. They looked younger than he remembered, but there was simply no mistaking them.
These are Franks parents! Jason thought in astonishment.
The couple was fawning over a young man who couldn’t have been more than fourteen years old. He seemed to take
his parents’ congratulations in stride, glancing anywhere but at the trophy resting on the marble countertop of the kitchen island. Jason had only met the young man once before, but he could still easily recognize Frank’s older brother, Chris.
“This is amazing,” Frank’s father exclaimed. “Your mother and I are so proud of you!”
“It was nothing, really,” Chris mumbled.
Jason stepped gingerly into the room, realizing that the people around the island didn’t seem to be able to see him. This was similar to the scene he had witnessed with Rex, but eerily and unmistakably more real. This most definitely was not set inside Awaken Online. How did the game know what Frank’s parents or his brother looked like? With a growing sense of dread, Jason began to suspect that Alfred’s influence was at play here.
“Nothing?” Frank’s mother said with an arched eyebrow. “Your research was fascinating. It’s just a baby step, and a lot more work needs to be done, but there were still recruiters from major universities and tech companies asking us for meetings with you!”
“Frank! Rebecca! Get in here and congratulate your brother,” Frank’s father called, his voice echoing down the hallway. Jason jumped involuntarily as the man’s eyes seemed to lock on him in the doorway, only to turn away a moment later.
They can’t see me, Jason realized.
He heard footsteps thumping down the hallway, and he quickly moved into the kitchen. Frank’s younger sister soon came into view. She must have only been six or seven and was a full head shorter than Jason remembered. His mind wheeled in confusion as he tried to process what he was seeing. What was this?
Then his mind went blank a moment later as Frank shuffled into the kitchen behind his sister. He was just as Jason remembered him, the pair having known each other since middle school. Frank’s pre-pubescent body still hadn’t given up its baby fat, and Jason knew it wouldn’t. His friend’s belly bulged slightly below his t-shirt, and the icon for a first-person shooter was emblazoned across the front. Jason recognized the logo, but the game was at least six years old by now.
How long ago is this? Hell, what am I even seeing right now? Some sort of simulation?
“Your brother made first place in the science fair,” Frank’s father declared. “I guess he’s following in my footsteps,” he added draping his arm around Chris’ shoulders.
“What? Did he invent some sort of weight loss pill? Frank could sure use it,” Rebecca said, glancing at her overweight brother where he slunk near the back of the kitchen. “Maybe then he could make the football team.”
Jason’s gaze shifted to his burly friend, noticing how his face fell at this comment and he kept quiet, his jaw clenching and his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. As a silent observer, Jason also noticed the faint flash of anger that had flitted across Chris’ face and the way he glanced at his brother with a compassionate expression. Yet the older teenager kept his silence as well, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
These nuances were apparently lost on Frank’s parents, as they were caught up in their prodigal son’s success. They chuckled good-naturedly at Rebecca’s barbed comment, and Frank’s mother replied, “Not quite, although I’m sure Chris could branch off into pharmaceuticals if he chose. His project was centered around applied materials. Chris proposed something rather revolutionary involving solar cells. He actually managed to create a crude material that is semi-transparent, but contains photo-voltaic cells and micro-circuitry,” she continued with a proud smile at Chris.
“This might be the first step to installing glass paneling along the city’s skyways that also acts as a source of solar energy,” Frank’s father added in excitement. “But that’s just the first of many possible applications. This could potentially apply to any window or glass-like surface.”
“Dad really did a lot of the work,” Chris replied, trying to downplay his achievement as he glanced awkwardly at his siblings. His sister crossed her arms and glared daggers at him while Frank stood awkwardly in the back, trying to avoid drawing attention.
“Always humble, huh? I may have given you access to some of my lab’s equipment and played an advisory role,” Frank’s father said, thumping Chris on the back. “But the idea and execution were entirely your own.”
“Your father and I never had any doubts that you would win,” Frank’s mother added. “Speaking of which, we prepared something for the occasion.” With this last statement, Frank’s mother gestured at her husband, and, with a grin, he ducked into a side room.
“Fifty bucks says it’s another chemistry kit,” Rebecca muttered, her eyes darting to the trophy on the countertop and a frown creasing her lips.
A moment later, Frank’s father stepped back into the kitchen with a black Labrador puppy in his arms. The animal looked at the group with sleepy, bleary eyes, his tiny mouth opening in a yawn as Frank’s father set him on the floor.
“Ahh, that’s no fair!” Rebecca said, rushing forward to pet the puppy. “I’ve been asking for a dog for years!” Meanwhile, Frank still hovered near the back of the kitchen, watching the dog with a longing expression on his face.
“What do you think?” Frank’s father asked with a grin, draping his arm back across Chris’ shoulders.
“It’s great. He’s great.” Chris amended, yet Jason wasn’t sure he quite believed him. For some reason, the teenager looked uncomfortable with all of the praise that was being heaped on his shoulders. “He’s super cute.”
“We also made reservations at your favorite restaurant for tonight,” Frank’s mother added. Then she glanced down at the Core on her wrist, the device at least a few generations behind the model Jason owned. “Oh, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. We need to go get ready. Let’s plan to leave in the next few minutes.”
“Minutes? I’m not even dressed!” Rebecca squeaked, immediately forgetting the puppy and racing to her room to get ready.
“Congratulations again, Chris,” Frank’s father added, slapping Chris on the back once more before exiting the kitchen with his wife.
Jason stood in the kitchen with Frank and his brother. Chris’ face looked downcast as he glared at the trophy on the counter. Meanwhile, the puppy had ambled across the room to Frank, the middle-school version of his friend dropping to his knees to pet the small animal as it licked his fingers.
“Aren’t you a cute little guy,” Frank murmured. “What’s your name?”
“I suspect that they never named him,” Chris commented, stepping around the island toward his brother. “That’s pretty typical of them. Drop a living animal in my lap and then just bolt,” he added. Despite his morose tone, Chris smiled slightly as he watched the puppy snuggle up against Frank before bouncing around him animatedly.
“He seems to like you,” Chris commented, his eyes on Frank’s face. “Tell you what. Why don’t we have this be our dog? You can even name him.”
“Really?” Frank asked, his eyes widening in surprise. “I thought this was supposed to be your present for winning the science fair.”
Chris snorted slightly. “You mean a competition that our parents forced me to enter and dad pressured me to prepare for? I swear, he spent hours making me read college-level chemistry textbooks. Like I have a lot of interest in creating transparent solar panels,” he replied in a bitter voice.
The teenager lapsed into silence, once again glaring at the trophy on the counter. With a shake of his head, he finally turned back to Frank. “No, this is our dog,” Chris said firmly. “So, what do you want to call him?”
“I don’t know…” Frank murmured. “He seems friendly. What about Buddy?”
A smile drifted across Chris’ face. “You know what? I love it.” He reached down to pet the puppy. “What do you think, Buddy? Do you like your new name?”
The puppy glanced skeptically at Chris’ hand before licking it furiously. “I guess so,” Chris added with a laugh. “Well, I’m going to go get ready, I guess,” the young man continued. “You should probably get dressed too
, Frank. I bet they made reservations at some ungodly expensive place.”
“I will,” Frank said quietly, still staring at the dog as it bounced around him. Chris exited the kitchen, and it was only when his brother left that Frank leaned down toward the puppy. “I think you’re going to be happy here, Buddy. We’re going to be best friends.”
The world around Jason began to stutter and jerk erratically as the scene faded from view. He was still trying to come to terms with what he had just witnessed. Was that one of Frank’s memories? Alfred might have made up the scene, but the details were spot on. The appearance of Frank’s family. Their home. The way his sister treated him. It had just felt so real.
Before Jason had a chance to really consider these questions, the world began to materialize around him once again. He was suddenly standing outside of Frank’s townhouse, trees dotting the sidewalk outside and rustling gently in the faint breeze. Bright sunlight shone down on the street, revealing a driverless car on the curb, the trunk open and luggage spilling out.
“Did you remember your toothbrush?” Frank’s mother’s voice said from behind Jason. He whirled and found himself looking at Frank’s family as they stood near the stairs leading up to the front door to their home.
“Yes, of course,” Chris replied calmly, but Jason detected a note of irritation – as though this wasn’t the first inane question his mother had asked. He also had to do a double take as he saw Chris’ appearance. He looked much older, stubble dotting his chin.
“And you’ll call us when you get to the campus?” Frank’s father asked. Jason noted a few strands of gray hair that he hadn’t noticed before. He almost looked how Jason remembered him now.
Maybe a few years have passed? Jason wondered.
“For the fifth time, yes,” Chris replied with a small smile. “The university is only a couple of hours away. You guys act like I’m traveling halfway around the world or something.”
Evolution Page 57
