by Naam, Ramez
Sam cut away most of Kade's shirt, tossed it out the window. Kade grasped something around his neck, the data fob Wats had given him.
"Not this," he mumbled weakly through the mask.
Sam skipped past it, cut away his ruined pants, tossed them out as well.
God, he was a mess. Melted fibers stuck to the skin of his lower leg where the burning beam had pinned him, across parts of his thighs where the pants had melted from the heat of the fire. The left side of his face was swollen, burnt, lacerated. One of his eyes wouldn't open. As his pain receded, she could get a clear view of his injuries. They were serious.
Sam squeezed anti-burn gel over his face, his chest, his thighs, his calves. She injected antibiotics and growth factors into his face, into the area around his swollen-shut eye. She taped the broken finger.
Sam looked up as she did so. They were still somewhere in the maze.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Bangkok Metro Police are all around us," Shu answered. "We're taking a roundabout route to avoid them."
"And after we get out of here?" Sam asked.
I'm in a car with the enemies I was trained to fight, she realized. With no weapon, on the run from the people who trained me. What the fuck am I doing?
"The Chinese Embassy," Shu said. "Political asylum for Kade. For you as well if you want it."
Alarm jolted through Sam. She reached for words. Kade was faster.
No!
He reached up, pulled Sam's hand and the mask away.
"No embassy," he said weakly.
We can keep you safe there, Shu sent, then get you out of the country.
Kade pulled the mask back, sucked at the cool healing mix, sent them his thoughts.
No. People just died because of me. They fucking died. I won't let that happen again. I won't be a slave. I won't be a killer.
Images leaked out of his mind, Narong pointing a gun at Ted Prat-Nung's head. Wats bleeding to death in the fire. Niran and Lalana being cut down in the crossfire.
Sam could feel his intense guilt, the failure, the betrayal, the burden of the deaths he'd caused. She understood, all too well.
What have I done? Sam thought. It happened so fast…
Shu tried again. Kade, the Americans will come for you. We need to get you someplace safe.
"She's right," Sam said. "They've got to be looking for us already. They won't just let us go. We have to move fast."
Hide, Kade sent. We need to hide.
"Where should I drive?" Feng asked.
Ananda, Kade sent.
Sam shook her head. "That guy in there, the dead one, he was one of Ananda's monks. He followed us Monday night."
"Tuksin," Shu said. "I saw some of his mind before he faded. He was operating on his own."
Kade nodded. He wanted out from Ananda. And Suk wanted out from Ted Prat-Nung.
"Thanom?" Shu asked sharply. "What does he have to do with this?"
Kade and Sam exchanged glances.
Sam answered, "He was there, tonight. That's why the ERD moved in, to get him."
Show me! Shu commanded.
Sam felt an alien presence in her mind. It burrowed deep. Sam couldn't have stopped her if she'd wanted to. What was this woman? The presence found her memories of the fight, sucked them up instantly.
Sam felt Kade open to Shu, felt Shu absorb his memories of the event as well. She caught an echo of Prat-Nung's death, bullets ripping through his body as he'd tried to rescue Chariya, tried to get her out of there.
Shu moaned then, a low-pitched sound. Her head fell into her hands. A sob escaped from between them. They felt it in their minds.
Thanom. Dead. Thanom. No…
Grief filled Sam. She wanted to weep with Shu's loss. She couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't breathe. She felt the car begin to swerve.
Thanom!
Su-Yong!
Sam heard the yell from Feng. Shu's moan ceased. The mental fog in Sam's head cleared.
Feng got the car back under control. No one spoke. Shu continued to sob. Her sorrow filled the air.
Stupid, stupid, Thanom. I told you it would end this way. I told you…
Sam did what she could for Kade, in silence.
Eventually Shu's sobbing slowed, then ceased. She lifted up her face. Tears streaked it.
I'm sorry, she sent. Thanom was very important to me. I'm… She shook her head. I'm only alive today because of him.
It came in a flash. A fire. Burning heat. Pain and fear. Her head shaved bare. A robotic surgeon looming above her, alien and insectoid, moving closer with whirring blades. Her unborn child huge in her womb. Blood everywhere. Two faces above her, pale with fright. The feel of Prat-Nung's hand around hers. Images and memories that Sam didn't understand.
Anger began to replace the sorrow emanating from Shu. Cold, hard anger. Anger of epic proportions. Hatred of frightening intensity. Wrath. Destruction. Murderers. Savages. She would crush them all…
"Ananda," Kade croaked. Ananda.
Shu seemed to notice them then. Bit by bit she reeled her anger in. They heard her take a deep breath. She nodded. "Ananda."
"And you?" Shu asked Sam. "Do you plan to go with Kade?"
Sam took a deep breath. She still hadn't made sense of the events of this night. She'd gone mad at Mai's death, at the rage and terror of the minds she'd been linked to. She'd killed at least two ERD contractors, been complicit in the deaths of others…
Could I turn myself in? Sam wondered. Go to the embassy? Claim temporary insanity?
No. The ERD was many things. Forgiving was not one of them. She'd signed her own death warrant already. Her life expectancy could now be measured in hours or days.
She needed to think and regroup. She needed to keep moving, keep ahead of the pursuers who would be coming after her. Her options were few. And she'd promised Wats that she'd keep Kade safe.
"I'll go," she said. "I'll go with Kade, if he'll have me."
Kade looked at her. He had the mask over his mouth and nose again. His eyes met hers. She had a flash of the connection they'd had just hours ago, the way she'd opened herself to him. A sense of compassion. Trust. Understanding. He nodded slowly, pulled the mask away.
"Yes," he said. "You saved my life. Again. Yes."
Shu nodded, face and mind still hard, pulled a phone from her pocket, dialed, held it to her ear. Sam faintly heard the voice on the other side answer.
"Sawadi, Ananda."
They spoke in a language Sam didn't know, Indic maybe, flowing and sonorous. And then Shu put the phone down.
"It's done," she said. "We'll meet his monks in an hour." Her voice was cold and distant. Anger still leaked out of her mind. Violence. The apes had killed Thanom. There would be a reckoning.
Kade napped as Feng drove. He woke at the rendezvous point with the two young monks Ananda had sent. It was a cavernous garage, deep in the belly of the airport. Shu claimed the surveillance cameras were under her control. No one voiced a disagreement.
The shaven-headed young men passed them piles of cloth. Monk's robes. Orange for Kade, white for Sam.
Shu spoke from the front seat. She still felt distant, cold. PratNung's death had affected her.
"Ananda's monks will take you someplace, hide you," she said. "The Americans have already put out a request for your arrest, both of you, on drug charges.
"You need to keep moving. Ananda knows that. He's working on finding a next step for you."
She turned back and held something out to Kade. A slate.
"What's this?" Kade asked, reaching for it. Shu kept her grip on the device.
"We stopped, and Feng bought them. He paid cash. They're not associated with you in any way. Do not access any of your old accounts or data on this, or they'll be able to trace you. Don't try to contact anyone you know, or me. You can use it to keep up on news generally, but not more than that. You understand?"
Kade nodded. "Yeah. I want to stay alive."
Shu n
odded, released her grip. "Good."
"Can you do something for me?" Kade asked. He felt cold. Dazed.
"What?"
"Rangan, Ilya, the ERD will come after them now, if they haven't already. Can you contact them? Tell them to get out if they can?"
Shu hesitated a moment.
"They'll be bugged," Sam said. "You'll have to be careful to not tip the listeners off."
Shu nodded. "I'll do what I can."
"Thank you," Kade said. The words were empty. He felt numb.
"Kade…" Shu began. She paused. "Kade, it's likely to go poorly for the people the ERD was blackmailing you with. If it does, remember who did this to you, and to them."
Her eyes held his. Her mind radiated cold anger, a desire to break the human organizations that worked so hard to keep them – all the posthumans – under their thumbs.
It'll be your fault, Sam had told him. All on you.
He caught Sam out of the corner of his eye, saw her look down. She emanated guilt, confusion, resignation. She opened the door on her side, hobbled out, closed the door behind her.
"Blame the humans," Shu continued. "Blame their hatred of anything and anyone that might transcend them."
Rage. Not just anger. A flash of Yang Wei, her mentor, trapped in a wrecked car, burning to death in utter agony, the CIA to blame. A flash of Ted Prat-Nung being cut down as he tried to save Chariya, echoed back from his own memories.
Hatred.
He could feel his own anger rising. The ERD had killed so many. They should be punished, broken, shattered into pieces so small that…
"Keep moving," Shu told him. "Stay safe. We'll see each other again."
She touched his arm, held his eyes with her own.
"One day, we will make them pay," Shu said. "All of them."
Even through the serenity package, he felt it. The anger soothed him. The cold rage. It took his grief away. It took the pain away.
Kade nodded again, locked eyes with her. One day they'd make their enemies pay. He opened the door to get out. One of the monks was there in a flash. He took Kade's arm over his shoulder, helped him hop on one foot towards the other car. Sam was waiting at the front of the car, her eyes darting to and fro, scanning for threats.
She expects them to find us, Kade thought to himself. And she would know.
Feng hugged Kade. "No more getting beat up!" he told him with a grin.
Kade nodded numbly.
The Confucian Fist turned to Sam, held his arms open as if to embrace her. Sam frowned. Feng dropped his arms and the grin, offered her one hand to shake. She took it.
"Someday we fight together for real," he said, giving her a respectful nod.
The young monks put them in the back of a cramped, beatup four-seater Tata.
"Where are we going?" Kade asked.
The two monks exchanged words in Thai. The one in the passenger seat turned.
"Mountains," he said, gesturing towards the sky. Then more Thai.
"He says they're taking us to a monastery," Sam said. "A very special monastery."
They drove out of the airport garage, into the early morning light. The clouds had broken apart. The sun was rising in the east, an orange ball of fire illuminating a wet landscape. They drove north, and towards the peaks that loomed over the Thai plains below.
41
REPERCUSSIONS
Becker swore softly to himself. Morning was breaking over Thailand. His emergency request for aerial recon in the pre-dawn dark three hours ago had been denied. The National Security Advisor had called a meeting to discuss events in Thailand for Sunday morning in DC. That was more than thirty-six hours in the future. They couldn't wait that long.
Was this a time to use the card he'd been given?
The President cares very much about your work, he'd been told. If you ever have a pressing issue that needs fast attention, just let me know.
Barnes. Maximilian Barnes, the President's Special Policy Advisor. The President's bag man. A man that had done things Becker wished he didn't even know about… A man that Warren Becker frankly feared.
This is my private number.
Becker sighed. This was one of those pressing issues. He reached down, pulled a bottle and a glass from his bottom drawer, poured himself two fingers of Laphroaig, and took a swallow. Then he dialed the number.
Barnes answered right away. Yes, he certainly remembered Becker. What did he need?
Becker explained. Their conversation was brief and to the point.
Yes, this sounded like the sort of thing the President would take an interest in. Yes, waiting another two days before launching recon drones would be unacceptable. No, Becker hadn't presumed too much in calling. He would have his approval to launch recon drones by nightfall, Thailand time.
Becker disconnected the call. His hand was shaking slightly. That man terrified him. The things Becker knew Barnes had done were enough… The things he was rumored to have done…
He shook his head, took another swallow of the Laphroaig to calm himself, turned his attention to the after-action report on the events in Bangkok.
Twelve ERD contractors killed. Ted Prat-Nung dead. Three of his men dead. Watson Cole dead. Suk Prat-Nung found dead in the building across the alley, next to a high-ranking monk and a petty criminal, both also dead. Yet another man dead in the alley itself, his throat messily cut. Four dead men on the roof of that building. It had been a multi-site bloodbath.
And last of all, twelve civilians killed inside the apartment – a handful of students, a burnt-out ex-nun and and her burnt-out ex-monk husband, a used-up whore, a young drug dealer – and this freakish child, this freakish creature.
Mai, they'd called it.
Becker shivered. What they'd pieced together corroborated one of the President's worst fears. Children born with Nexus abilities from birth. A new subspecies able to communicate telepathically with one another. How would they treat the rest of humanity? He thought of his two beautiful, normal, healthy daughters. Would these freaks turn his daughters into a new underclass? Into slaves for the new elites? The thought made him ill.
This creature Mai. The Confucian Fist clones. Shu – quite possibly no longer human herself. It was an unholy convergence of perversities. His daughters would live in a world where they were beset by enemies, beset by threats to the entire human race.
He took another swallow of the Laphroaig, followed it with a deep breath.
And Cataranes. Sam. What happened there? Shu must have coerced her. Nothing else made sense. Damn it. It was his fault, for sending her out in the field with Nexus in her skull. They hadn't imagined that Shu could coerce someone so quickly, so silently, without warning.
I'm sorry, Sam. We're going to get you back. We're going to fix you, if we can.
Becker turned back to the dead contractors, studied their faces, memorized their names. They'd been good men, doing an important job. He'd sent them into danger. He'd given the order to detonate the charges in their skulls, in the skulls of the dead and the still-breathing alike, rather than let them fall into Thai custody. Their blood was on his hands.
Had he done the right thing?
Yes. He was a good soldier. He'd followed the rules. Rules that were there for a reason.
He swallowed the last of the Laphroaig. It warmed him as it went down. It comforted him.
He read through the contractors' bios again. He would remember these men.
And he would do the same thing again, if he had to. The stakes were far too high for anything else.
Martin Holtzmann sat in his own office, reviewing the events in Bangkok.
Such a waste. Such an appalling waste.
Narong Shinawatra, the boy they'd coerced. Dead. Senselessly dead. What had gone wrong with their software?
Ted Prat-Nung, a competent nano-engineer before he'd become a drug dealer. Dead.
The child Mai. What would it be like to be born with Nexus in one's mind? To be able to speak mentally from birth wi
th others who had the same capabilities. How would it affect language development? How would it affect intelligence? How would it affect social behaviors?
He had so many questions.
Dead. Just another dead end.
The Lane boy, with all he knew, all his ideas. Lost to them. Holtzman had hoped still to persuade that one to join them.
