by Jacob Whaler
“I appreciate your need to be careful.” Ryzaard stands next to Jing-wei. “It has served us well in the past.” He turns and lets his eyes sweep past Kalani. “But you must learn this one principle. Those with power, and the knowledge and wisdom to use that power, have no need to fear.” He stands between the two young people and folds his arms across his chest, staring ahead at the blue screen. “Show me what you’ve found, Jing-wei.”
“What? But she didn’t—”
Ryzaard raises his hand and shoots a glance at Kalani. He immediately retreats to the red sofa and plops himself down, legs up exposing the white soles of his feet, arms folded and sulking. His eyes drop shut.
“You’ll have your chance to talk.” Ryzaard smiles at Kalani. “But let’s hear from Jing-wei first.”
She clears her throat. “As you know, a few weeks ago, we finally broke through the Chinese quantum encryption protocols.” A red outline of China appears on the globe.
Kalani’s eyes shoot open. “We broke through the protocols? Don’t you mean me?”
Jing-wei ignores him. “This gave us access to all of their high-level Meshfiles.”
“Including launch codes and detonation protocols for hidden nukes and E-mag disrupters,” Kalani says.
“Yes, I know,” Ryzaard says. “You told me before.”
Next to the globe, a box appears with a high-resolution image of Beijing. The view drops to street level, showing a collection of tombstone-like government offices.
Jing-wei’s voice drops to a whisper. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg. We found a treasure trove of top-secret internal communications, Politburo committee notes, military and diplomatic analysis, satellite data, private text and video messages, everything that is recorded on their max-security channels, including lots of cross-agency spying.”
On the other side of the turning globe, a circle pops up showing footage of the Chinese Premier, Xin Xiao-jia, inside his private residence near the Summer Palace, sitting at a table with another man.
“In case you don’t know, that’s Juan Leche, the notorious drug-lord from Central Africa who is currently the subject of an international manhunt launched by the United States.” Jing-wei drops her hands behind her back.
“Interesting,” Ryzaard says. “And useful, to say the least. Is there any more like this?”
“Tons. It could take months to analyze all the data.” Jing-wei shifts her weight back and forth on her feet. “There may be other matters of such an explosive nature that it could result in toppling the current Party leadership.”
“Or worse,” Ryzaard says.
Kalani’s hand fingers his jax. “Here are some private messages between the Chinese and Japanese prime ministers last month.” Pages of text appear on the blue screen. “They’re discussing the possibility of launching a coordinated Mesh attack on Pakistani satellite pods from within India. They’d like to spark another all-out war between the two countries. Then they’ll swoop in and pick up the pieces.”
Even Ryzaard’s eyebrows rise. “I see your point. If any of this were to fall into the wrong hands, it could prove dangerous.”
“World War Three,” Kalani says.
“And this is just what we’ve found inside China,” Jing-wei says. “Once we broke their encryption, it gave us easy access to similar info for most of their client states throughout Asia, the Middle East and Africa.”
“Have the Chinese broken these codes as well?” Ryzaard says.
Kalani stands up and walks to his side. “They have for some of the smaller countries, but they don’t have the computing power that our twelve clusters give us. We’re years ahead of them. Or anyone else.”
“Good.” Ryzaard walks to his desk and drops both hands. “Now tell me about the rest of the world.”
Jing-wei and Kalani exchange glances again.
Jing-wei is the first to speak. “Jerek’s been working on a way to boost our computing power.” She looks directly at Ryzaard. “Using the Stones.”
“Just as I directed him,” Ryzaard says. “Last I checked, he was not optimistic about making real progress.”
“Until yesterday,” Jing-wei says.
A huge smile breaks out on Kalani’s face, exposing his neon-white teeth.
Ryzaard looks back and forth between them. “Go on.”
Taking a deep breath, Jing-wei speaks slowly. “We were getting frustrated. Breaking the Chinese encryption was hard work, but doable. We weren’t making much progress with the European countries or the US, not to mention Russia.”
“So I made a suggestion,” Kalani says.
Jing-wei shakes her head. “I had the original idea.”
“I don’t care who’s idea it was.” Ryzaard picks up the Zeus statue from off the desk. “Just tell me.”
Kalani clears his throat. “We suggested that Jerek run the encrypted data through the Stones and analyze what came out.”
Ryzaard lifts an eyebrow. “I thought you already tried that.”
“We did,” Jing-wei says. “We tried it with one, two and then three Stones. But never with five.”
The two young people stand silent, staring at Ryzaard, watching for his reaction.
“You’re kidding, right?” he says.
“No, not kidding,” Jing-wei says. “It’s true.”
Ryzaard walks away from them to the other side of the room and begins pacing back and forth, both hands behind his back, trying to comprehend the implications of what he had just learned. At last, he looks up.
“When encrypted data is run through the Stones, the five Stones, it automatically de-encrypts it. Do I understand you correctly?”
Jing-wei and Kalani nod in unison.
“Does it work on any kind of message? Text, video, holo, anything?”
“Everything we’ve tried so far,” Jing-wei says. “We don’t even need a de-encryption algorithm. The Stones do all the work.”
Kalani jumps in. “We thought de-encryption on this scale would take months. Without the Stones, it would have taken decades, or longer.” He points his jax at the screen, lighting up Russia, the Middle-East, Africa and all the countries of Europe, one by one. “It’s almost too easy.” The globe turns, and the United States lights up, along with the rest of North, Central and South America. As the globe turns more, Australia and New Zealand light up.
“What’s the bottom line?” Ryzaard says.
Jing-wei’s voice drops to a whisper. “The bottom line is that there are no more secrets.”
CHAPTER 55
“Let’s see,” Jhata says. “Where should we go next?” She walks hand in hand with Yarah through the wide street.
“Show me the people that live here.” Yarah swings the hand holding onto Jhata.
“The people?” Jhata narrows her eyes and nods as she thinks to herself.
Already exhausted from nearly an hour of being the sole subject of Yarah’s attention, Jhata senses Yarah reaching out, searching and probing the inside of her mind. It’s effortless for Yarah, a natural extension of her boundless curiosity, and Jhata knows she means no harm. But with so much to hide, it takes a huge amount of energy to maintain the façade of innocence while throwing up impenetrable barriers to guard millennia of secrets, murders numbering in the billions and almost infinite greed.
The people.
Not a bad idea. It might take the focus off Jhata and give her a rest from Yarah’s constant probing. And if it includes strong sensory stimulation, that will be all the better. For a child like this, food provides the strongest sensory experience. She knows from her own brief explorations of Yarah’s mind that she loves sweets. That makes it simple.
Food and people.
With the power of her Stones, Jhata begins to assemble the necessary components of the scenario as they walk. People are as plentiful in her domains as the sands of the seashore. All the other materials are ready at hand. Preparations are complete in less than two minutes.
“This way.” Jhata turns to the r
ight and walks through the wall of a building that stretches up into a high spiral. Yarah follows close behind.
Inside, a sweet aroma floats in the air.
“I smell chocolate,” Yarah says.
“How would you like to see a factory where they make it?”
“Can we?”
“That’s why I brought you here. To show you everything you’ve always wanted to see. Follow me.”
The pressure on Jhata eases as Yarah’s mind stretches out, searching for other minds nearby.
They walk until they come to a wide staircase dropping into a long spiral. As they descend it together, the aroma grows stronger.
“I can almost taste it,” Yarah says.
The shackles are slipping away.
After two turns of the spiral, they come to a pair of closed double doors.
“Are you ready?” Jhata says.
Yarah squeals with delight. “I want to see it!”
The doors open onto a large floor. The fragrance of chocolate is overpowering. Inside, there’s a bustle of activity as hundreds of men and women in pink uniforms move in and between gleaming gold equipment.
“It’s just like a book Matt read to me.” Yarah runs forward to a massive bowl suspended on a pedestal just low enough for her to peek over. She stands on her toes and looks inside. Without hesitation, she reaches in her hand and pulls it back with a large dollop of fudge on three fingers. It goes straight into her mouth.
Jhata stops at her side. “How is it?”
“Best ever.”
“We have some time.” Jhata’s gaze moves through the factory. “You are free to explore and eat to your heart’s delight. They’re making all kinds of goodies here. Have a look.”
“Really?” Without waiting for a reply, Yarah runs down a long aisle between rows of golden apparatus, each making a different treat, all for the little girl’s tasting pleasure.
Strolling through the factory, now and then Jhata catches a glimpse of Yarah, her face and hands marked with brown stains. She waves and then disappears into this world of sumptuous delights Jhata made for her.
Not bad for a few minutes’ work.
Jhata marvels at the power she wields. The entire chocolate factory, every piece of equipment, each variety of chocolate, the materials out of which it was made, all of it is a product of her mind and her power to manipulate matter through the Stones. She used a mental imprint of a factory drawn from one of her worlds, suitably modified to include the images in Yarah’s mind.
All Jhata has to do is think of it, see it in her mind, and it becomes reality.
The people that Yarah sees in the factory are drawn from vast reserves of workers inhabiting every corner of Jhata’s empire. She can pull them here at will, fill their minds with artificial memories, set them at whatever task she wishes. They and everything about them is real. It has to be. Yarah is scouring their minds right now.
Just as quickly, with nothing more than a fleeting thought, Jhata can dispose of them all in any fashion that pleases her.
This is what it means to be a god.
A small storm of mental activity approaches, interrupting her reverie.
Yarah comes running. “Don’t you want to have some? It’s all so wonderful.” Chocolate pleasures are stacked in her hands and on her arms, and she trails them behind her as she runs.
“I’ll try one of these.” Jhata bends and picks a sculpted treat in the shape of a unicorn, built up by alternating layers of white, dark and milk chocolate. She places it in her mouth where it melts and runs down the back of her throat.
Yarah looks up with eager eyes. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Most delicious.” Jhata produces a white handkerchief and, bending over, wipes Yarah’s mouth. “It looks like you’re enjoying yourself.”
Yarah jumps up, spilling most of her treasure. “I love this place!” But then, a dark cloud passes over her face, and she drops her gaze to the floor.
“What’s wrong, my child?”
“The people working here.” Yarah gazes at the open floor. “They’re not happy.”
Jhata’s eyes narrow slightly. “But they’re not sad, either.” She starts walking, bringing the girl along with her. “Besides, why do you care?”
Yarah looks up, confused by the question. “Because they’re people.” She says the words slowly, as if not sure it’s the right answer.
“Yes, that’s true. They are people.” Jhata brings her hands up to her hips. “But they’re different from you and I. Very different. Do you understand?”
Yarah nods, but then stops. “Isn’t everyone supposed to be happy? Shouldn’t we help them be happy?”
Suppressing the urge to laugh, Jhata drops her head to the side and thinks for a moment, allowing her gaze to drift through the massive room.
For the first time in ages, Jhata actually considers the happiness of others.
It’s a golden opportunity, the chance to teach this small prodigy of nature the first lesson in a long line of lessons that will lead her to embrace the life Jhata enjoys. A question like this was bound to come up. But now that it’s here, she is unprepared to answer such a fundamental issue.
It’s time to choose her words carefully.
“No, my dear, not everyone can be happy. I wish they could, but it can’t be that way. Some people are given special power, like you and me. We are meant to be happy. Our power gives us the right to be happy. Other people don’t have any power. Their job is to do what we say, so we can be happy. It doesn’t matter whether they are happy.”
Yarah looks up, the look of confusion still heavy on her face.
Jhata turns down an aisle to the right. “Let me see if I can make it clear.” She passes a man dipping long, straight pretzels into white chocolate. Without looking at him, she takes two out of his hand as they pass and gives one to Yarah. “I’ve seen your birth world. There’s an animal in the jungle that looks like a big cat with spots on its body. Can you remember what it’s called?”
“A jaguar?”
“A beautiful name for a beautiful creature.” Jhata puts the pretzel in her mouth and sucks on the chocolate. “What does it eat?”
Yarah chomps on her pretzel “Lots of things. Deer, monkeys, snakes, rats, fish.”
“Now tell me. Is the jaguar happy when it’s sitting in a tree eating its kill?”
“Sure.”
“Do you think the other animals are happy when a jaguar kills and eats them?”
“No.”
“Is it wrong for the jaguar to kill other animals and eat them?”
Yarah’s eyebrows knit together. “No, but—”
Jhata leans in close to make her point. “Now, listen carefully to me, child.”
Yarah looks up, her brown eyes large, taking in every word from Jhata’s lips.
“You and I are jaguars,” Jhata says.
Yarah tilts her head to the side. It’s clear she is trying to understand. Understanding will come in time, little by little. No need to rush it. Jhata has just planted the seed that will yield fruit in its time. She will make sure Yarah receives a proper education, an education that only Jhata can provide.
Standing up, Jhata signals that this particular conversation is over. It’s time to change the subject.
“Now that we’ve had our fill of chocolate, how would you like to fly?”
Yarah’s eyes grow wide. “Can you fly?”
“It’s easy.” Jhata spreads her arms out. “I can show you how. Would you like to try?”
“Yes, yes, yes.” As Yarah jumps in place, her eyes drift down Jhata’s kimono to her waist where a multitude of Stones hang in a neat belt. She takes a step forward and looks closely.
“Is there something wrong?” Jhata says.
“You’re missing one. It was there a minute ago. Did you drop it?” Yarah’s eyes sweep the floor.
Jhata looks at the empty golden loop next to her right hand.
Matt’s Stone is gone.
C
HAPTER 56
“Looks like we made it.”
Jessica wakes to the sound of Eva’s voice in the bunk next to her. The rhythm and vibration of the engines are gone, replaced by a gentle bobbing motion. A deep silence bathes the room where they slept.
The distinct smell of leather floats up to Jessica’s nostrils. “Where are we?” she says.
Eva draws in a deep inhale. “Home.” A smile stretches across her lips. “Come on. They’re waiting for us.”
Jessica lets her legs drop and swings off the edge of the bed. Her arms reach for the ceiling, and a satisfying stretch moves through her spine and lower back. Her mouth opens wide with a yawn, popping plugged ears. Turning, she picks up the pulse rifle that lies at her side, gripped in her fingers through the night.
On the lower bunk next to the wall, Eva lays out two sets of long, zipper-less coats with immense fur-lined hoods, leggings, black-soled boots and mittens. All the clothes are made from layers of gray pelts with generous amounts of animal hair.
“Take off your pants and shirt and put these on.”
“But it’s summer.” Jessica jumps off the top bunk and lands softly on the floor.
“Trust me,” Eva says. “It’s cold out there. You’ll need it.”
Eva slips out of her clothes and pulls a coat over her head. It drops to her knees. Her face is tiny in the center of the fur fringe of the hood. With effortless fluidity, she tugs on the leggings and steps into the boots.
Jessica reaches for a coat and lifts it up over her head.
Eva touches her arm. “No shirt, no pants. You’ll be warmer that way.”
“But what about—”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get some clothes in the village.”
After Jessica dresses with difficulty, she grabs her pulse rifle and slings it over a shoulder. Eva leads the way out into the corridor and to the left without speaking. She stops at the halfway point, next to the rungs of a ladder bolted to the wall and pushes a red button at eye level. A vacuum seal opens, making Jessica’s ears pop again. The sound of blowing wind comes from somewhere outside. A blast of cold air drops on them from above. Jessica follows Eva up the ladder through multiple levels.
