Cyber Dawn (A Ben Raine Novel) (20 page)

Carter cleared his throat, and replied, “Oh, yes. Ben and Sarah here are doing some neat things at their school.”

Mrs. Carter set a tray on the table. On it were three mugs, a coffee pot, creamer and sugar.

“Thank you, Marion,” Dr. Carter said.

“Thank you, Mrs. Carter,” Sarah and I said in unison.

She smiled and turned to face us. “So, what are you two selling? I haven’t heard Allen this excited in years.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sarah blurted out, always quick on her feet. “We’re raising money for the music program.”

Mrs. Carter’s eyes lit up. “Oh wonderful. I love seeing young kids getting involved in the arts. I played the violin myself in high school.”

I poured two cups of coffee. I added cream to my own and left Sarah’s black. We’d consumed so much coffee in the three days we’d known each other, I knew exactly how she liked it.

“Thanks, Ben,” she said quietly.

“Um, Marion, would you be a dear and make me some tea instead? I think I’ve had enough coffee today. Oh, and get the checkbook from my desk?”

“Of course, I’ll be right back,” Mrs. Carter replied.

When she left, Dr. Carter didn’t waste any time continuing the conversation.

“Benjamin, I understand your curiosity. But these are things Merrick would probably tell you if you asked him. Why come to me? And, speaking of that, how did you find me?”

“Dr. Carter,” I said, skipping over the
how
part for now. “I was hoping you could help us figure something out.”

He raised an eyebrow. I turned to Sarah and motioned at her bag. She reached in, pulled out her laptop, and set it on the coffee table. When it finished booting, she turned the screen so Carter could see it.

“We found these,” she said. “In an email from Dr. Kaiser to you. From six years ago.”

Sarah showed the doctor how to flip through each file. He did so for a minute without saying a word. After looking at each record, he said, “Sure. These were the seven prototypes. I recognize all the names, of course.” After a short pause, he added, “And the faces.”

“Any chance the date on this email is wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t know why it would be,” he quickly replied. “But I don’t recall specific dates, Benjamin. Kaiser worked with us to identify the Alpha prototype candidates. I received emails from him all the time. Why is it important?”

“It’s probably nothing,” I said, pointing at the screen. “It’s just that this date here seems off.”

Carter shrugged. “Okay.”

“Dr. Kaiser identified me as a potential candidate in this email to you. See, right here he wrote
Alpha 7
and
AK
on my record.”

“Okay,” Carter repeated.

“Sir,” I said. “There is nothing in this record about me having cancer. In fact, it was sent to you months before I was diagnosed.”

Carter turned back to the laptop. He leaned forward and squinted at the screen. A few moments later, he sat back and pulled the glasses off his face. “You must have your dates wrong, Ben. I know how much trauma you and the others went through. It’s common for the brain to muddy the facts.”

“He’s right, Dr. Carter,” Sarah chimed in. “The date of the email and the date of Ben’s record are before his first visit to the hospital. He was identified as a CyberLife candidate
six months
before he was diagnosed with cancer.”

“Not possible,” Carter said.

“We’re certain,” Sarah added.

My jaw tightened. I wanted nothing more than for Dr. Carter to prove us wrong. To easily explain away the discrepancy in the dates. But the look on his face, along with the sweat forming on his brow, confirmed my worst fear.

You never had cancer.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know,” he said shortly. “I think it’s time for you to leave. I’ve already said more than I should. If Merrick finds out . . .”

Carter’s mouth clamped shut. He stood and motioned to the front door. Sarah and I looked at each other, then rose and followed. We stepped onto the porch and into the cool, wet air.

“Thank you, Dr. Carter,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand. “We appreciate the help.”

Carter tentatively took my hand. I noticed his skin was clammy and he was shaking. The eagerness and excitement over seeing me alive was long gone. Now, I thought he looked haunted.

Something we said shook him.

Sarah and I walked to my Jeep. After using the sleeve of my jacket to wipe the slush from my windows and mirrors, I climbed in.

“Well,” she said, looking back at the house. “That was interesting.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

After the engine warmed up, I shifted into drive.

“Wait,” Sarah said. She reached out and grabbed my arm. “He’s coming out.”

I hit the brakes and looked around her at the covered front porch of the house. Carter jogged down the porch steps and down the driveway. Sarah lowered the passenger window.

Dr. Carter leaned inside, and said, “Why are you two doing this?”

I met his gaze. “A friend of mine was killed last week. She worked at CyberLife. Just trying to figure out what happened, that’s all.”

“Who?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Who what?”

“Who died?” Carter said anxiously.

A lump formed in my throat. “Megan Reynolds.”

Carter’s face turned stark white. He looked as though he suddenly aged ten years.

“Did . . . you . . . say Megan is dead?”

“You knew her?”

“Yes. She worked for me,” he said, voice trembling. “I hired her in fact. I haven’t seen in her years, but we were supposed to have coffee on Thursday. When she didn’t show, I figured she just got tied up at work. How . . . was she killed?”

“She was shot,” I said. “The police think it was a home invasion.”

For a full half-minute, the three of us participated in a stare down contest. It was Carter who broke first. “Look, Benjamin,” he said. “I don’t know how you know what you know. But you have to be careful. Merrick is ruthless. He doesn’t . . . he doesn’t like questions.”

“We’ll be careful,” I said.

Carter looked back and forth between Sarah and me, then reached down and pulled his checkbook out of his pocket. “Look, before you go, I owe you a check.”

I smiled at the ruse. “Oh, it’s okay. Not necessary.”

Sarah looked over Carter’s shoulder. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she said. “Your wife’s not watching.”

“I insist,” he said as he wrote out the check. “Consider it my donation to your
music program
.”

Carter reached past Sarah and handed me the check. He then turned and walked away. “Good luck with your fund-raiser,” he called over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” I muttered as I stared at the check. In the
to
field it said
Benjamin and Sarah
. On the signature line, it said
Be careful.

But it was the
amount
that caught my attention. It simply read:

The proof is in Aspen.

31

“I am certain,” I replied. “He’s not referring to the city of Aspen. Like I already told you, on the research campus, each building is named after a Colorado ski town. The main administration building is Winter Park. The research labs where I spent most of my time were called Steamboat Springs. And the CyberLife archives are called
Aspen
.”

I found the Aspen building once while exploring the campus. It was basically a giant cave carved out of the mountain. Inside were hundreds of shelves full of large, gray plastic containers. And if Carter was right, inside one of the containers, was the proof we needed.

Security walked each of us to our desks,
he had said.
Packed everything into plastic containers, and walked us out.

“I know it’s risky, Sarah,” I said. “But I don’t see another way.”

“Risky? You’re kidding, right?” she snapped. “You want to break into a top secret research facility, and it’s just
risky
?”

I swallowed hard.

“It’s
insane,
Ben.”

She turned and stared out the passenger window, arms crossed on her chest. “And there is another way. It’s called
going to the police
.”

I sighed, tired from the lack of sleep and a half-hour arguing with Sarah. I couldn’t blame her for being mad. It was a huge leap going from hacking into the CPH website, to being chased out of the library by gun-toting commandos, to breaking into a top secret compound. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea either. But Carter all but confirmed my worst fears. Now I needed to know for sure.

“How do you even know Carter is trying to help?” Sarah said. “You could be walking into a trap.”

“I don’t,” I admitted. “But why else write the check?”

“Uh, a trap?” Sarah replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. She turned her back to me and didn’t speak again.

Fifteen minutes later, I pulled my Jeep to the front of her apartment building.

Without saying anything, she opened the door and started to climb out. After a moment of hesitation, she pulled her leg back in and shut the door.

“Ben, I understand why you want to do this,” she said. “I know Megan’s death and the possibility you never actually had cancer is weighing on you. But let’s take what we’ve learned and give it to the police. Your medical record and Dr. Carter’s testimony should be enough to at least start an inquiry. It’s their job.”

I slowly shook my head. “CyberLife is too powerful. Our thin layer of proof would be buried.”

Along with Titan.

And the other six Alphas.

“Oh, so you’re an expert on this stuff now? Business law and corporate espionage?”

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. As I calmed down, I realized Sarah had a point.

I nodded.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid while I’m at work?”

“I promise.”

To my surprise, she leaned in for a hug. Our cheeks brushed. I turned my face to hers and kissed her lightly on the lips.

“Still mad?” I asked when she pulled away.

“A little. We’re not done with this conversation.”

“I’ll text you later,” I said. “Maybe we can meet up tonight?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Does that mean you’re not going to Katherine’s for
dinner
?” She made quote marks with her fingers.

The truth was, I had forgotten all about Katherine. Something that would have been impossible just a few days earlier. “Actually,” I said. “That’s a pretty good idea. How about I just call you tomorrow?”

Sarah frowned.

“I’m kidding.”

“You’re lucky I’m too tired to punch you.”

“I’ll see you tonight,” I said.

She half-smiled, climbed out of my Jeep, then walked to her apartment.

I glanced at my phone while I waited to see her safely inside. It was almost two in the afternoon. I needed a shower, some food, and a nap. After that, I could spend some time thinking about what we should do next. And Sarah, of course.

Once she was safely inside, I headed home.

32

The snow had stopped, but left an inch of wet slush on the ground. My shoes were still damp from the night before, so I barely noticed. I cut through my neighbor’s yard and hopped the fence in under a minute. I snuck around the house, opened the side door, and quickly shut it.

I climbed the rear staircase to my room. After taking a quick shower and a Cytoxinol pill, I redressed in a pair of clean jeans and a charcoal gray t-shirt.

When I walked back into my room, an odd sensation hit me. Too focused earlier on taking a shower and a nap, I hadn’t noticed it was a mess. And not the kind of mess I usually made. The contents of my desk were scattered on its top and both drawers hung open. My clothes were on the floor near the dresser.

Images of Megan’s apartment flashed through my mind.

With a rush of adrenaline, I ran out of my room and down the hall to the top of the stairs. I looked over the railing at the living room below. The TV was smashed along with the various video players and stereo equipment. The couch cushions were scattered on the floor.

I flew down the stairs, taking them two at a time. The staircase curved at the bottom and led into the main downstairs hallway. As I rounded the corner, my heart stopped.

At the bottom of the stairs, Sofia lay on her back in a pool of dark liquid.

For a second I froze, too numb to move.

How in the hell could this be happening again?

I ran to Sofia’s body.

“Sofia,” I moaned, as I knelt down next to her. Her eyes were open. Lifeless. In the middle of her forehead was a small, round hole.

Tears rolled down my face. “I’m so sorry.”

I reached into my pocket to grab my phone, but realized it was still in my room. I put my face in my hands and started to sob.

Megan’s death was one thing.

This is Sofia.

This is family.

I stood and carefully stepped over Sofia’s lifeless body. The closest house phone was in the kitchen. As I stepped down the hall, a message flashed in large red text across the bottom of my HUD.

DANGER DANGER DANGER
ENEMY TARGETS DETECTED

I stared at the message, then shifted my eyes to the tracking sphere. There were three red—not white—dots on it.

They were racing toward the house.

I looked up and out the large bay window in our living room. Down the driveway and across the street was a white panel van, its side door open. Three men wearing jeans and winter coats were running up the driveway.