Maxwell Huxley's Demon (15 page)

“My reason, my reason is that you took everything away from me , and I’m coming to take it back.”

“Incredible, Max.
You found me. I’m glad but also sad, because now the men with guns call the shots, so to speak.”

“You can’t find me, so what good will guns do ?”

“Max, no one is ever alone.
If we have to, we will destroy you to bring you in. Whatever it takes to get you back, it doesn’t matter if you are san e or not. . . .
We can’t let you run loose.”

“I’m not loose .
I’m living.”

Walker spots Virginia and Naomi scrambling out from underneath the bus and nudges Max to look.

“Well , I’ll see you later, ” says Max.
“Y
ou r agents all went across town to my hotel and my passport is here.”

“You r passport isn’t quite there yet, and my best agents stayed behind .
”

Max feels the shift. The sudden lurch when he knows he’s mad e a mistake. The whispering starts.
Blew it, the best thing you had , and you blew it.
Max tries to stand and move forward.
Walker moves with him and catches him, stopping him. “
Let me go, ” Max implores.

Max watches the girls , shimmering with courage and grace . Max’s thoughts have kicked into fast forward, to him, the girls move in slow motion. Virginia skips up and over a moving car, then launch es herself into a front flip only to hit the ground running.
Naomi skids around everything in her way, cyclists, people, cars , never breaking stride .

The girls use the police cars and fire trucks as cover s taying low in the shadow of vehicles to block the view from surrounding buildings.
Max glances at Walker ’s laptop which shows four red dots, one on the move.

“
Faster !
” Max begs.
Max becomes frantic; he can feel the agents tracking the girls even though they only stay in the open for fractions of a second at a time.
What good is anything I do . . . if I can’t help her now.

Naomi skids out from u nder a fire truck, then up and runs toward Max.
Virginia lau nches herself off the top of the same truck , she lands on top of an ambulance and runs its length then flips through the air laughing, landing on a police car , she slides off the trunk .

Walker and Max stand .
Naomi reaches the sidewalk. M
ax’s eyes fix on Virginia. She radiates pure joy.
He can’t stand to watch her but can’t look away. H
urdling the last ca r between her and the sidewalk, Max sees the slight twitch before he hears the shot.
Virginia turns sideways as she falls, skids to a stop on the sidewalk. B
lood runs from her temple.

Max feels Walker push him to the ground. Naomi throws two passports at Walker; he catches them and stuffs them in his shirt.

Max lies on the ground staring at Virginia’s still body.
T
his is your fault.
.
“No !
”
You killed her.
The whispers continue without end.
Max’s head spins . Sounds stop. His mind takes snapshots. Naomi’s horrified look.
Walker kneeling over him.
A woman, a stranger , looking at Virginia and holding her hand over her mouth. Blood in Virginia’s hair. He becomes numb, sees himself from above .
A small broken boy, with a tussle of brown hair in the middle of a scene of chaos.

From there , Max watches Walker pull him up off the sidewalk, as Pirelli comes running full speed up the street , saying , “Cease fire !
” into his field radio. Naomi moves to Virginia, takes off her jacket and covers her . Pirelli arrives and throws his body over Naomi and Virginia. He w atches Walker pull Max backward . Max isn’t resisting or helping, he’s just limp and staring at Virginia’s covered body.

Max feels Walker pull him into a waiting cab , feels his view pulled back into his body.
Walker keys into his cell phone and the traffic lights turn green for the cab. “Go!” Walker says to the cabbie tossing twenties at him. Max looks out the back of the cab as it moves, staring at the body on the sidewalk. He watches until the cab turn s a corner. The traffic lights turn red behind the cab.

Max is mumbling, ranting, and repeating himself . Walker listens. “I am . . . I am . . .
not me . . .
I’m not . . . I am . . . I am . . .
”

Chapter 15
–Work

Mr. Newton sits back in his leather chair and looks out the pic ture window across his office. T
he world outside looks oddly grey. This is the downside of glass that will stop a high powered rifle shot and resist a moderate explosion .
He sips his coffee and looks over the queue of people wanting something from him.
He has five calls waiting on hold for him, 5
00+ unread email, and three simultaneous meeting requests.
He stands , leaves it all waiting, and walks out of his office.

In his study , there are three men in tailored suits , waiting for him. The men are all seated around a low circular coffee table, but they rise when he enters. He shakes hands with each on e in turn. “Mr. Aristotle . . .
Mr.
Plato . . .
Mr. Descartes.”

“Mr. Newton,” they all return as they retake their seats.

“T
houghts anyone?” Mr. Newton asks.

“I think there is a risk we pushed him too far,”
Mr. Descartes says through a cloud of cigar smoke. “
We want him motivated n ot destroyed.
”

Always the cautious one , thin ks Mr. Newton. “We need to push. T
hink of what he can create. You’ve all seen his scores . D
on’t forget what we already got from the minor ha ck he pulled off at the school.
That piece of intrusion software alone would almost make all of this worth it.
And that was just a little throw away thing for him. Imagine what he will make when he really needs something.
I think if one of his friends fell off a cliff, Max would learn how to fly before they hit the ground.”

Mr. Plato shifts forward reaching for his drink . “I understand how valuable he is, we all do, but he’s already unstable . W
hat good will he be if he permanently snaps . . .
remember Mark?
We pushed him hard. He had scores nearly as good as Max. We pushed and he cracked, never spoke again, catatonic.
I vote we be careful.”

“
Point taken,” says Mr. Newton. “Mr .
Aristotle? . . .
Anything?”

“Push, push, and push harder.
If he dies then it wasn’t to be.”

“So , two gentle souls , and two harsh—” Mr .
Newton’s phone vibrates, which he thinks is odd, since he remembers setting it to “do not disturb.” He looks at h is phone, the caller ID reads, ‘
answerTheDamnPhone .’
“Speak of the devil ; let’s see what Max has to say.” Mr. Newton puts the phone on speaker and answers it. “Hello.”

“Hi, i t’s Max here.”

“Well hello Max, h ow can I help you?
” Mr. Newton winks at his colleagues.

“I was wondering if I should keep calling you He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or if there is anything else I can call you?”

“You can call me Mr. Newton. H
ow did you get this phone number, Max?” Mr. Newton tries to grab control of the conversation.

“I g ot it because you guys are over confident in your security, because you underestimate me, and because Frank just called you , you idiot .
But that doesn’t really matter.
I just called to say if you thought I was a pain before, now you’re gonna see some magic … I don’t like ‘Newton’, I’m gonna call you Isaac . .
.” The line drops.

Silence. All eyes are on Mr. Newton. “Well , it s eems t hat everything worked out just fine.
He seems confident and motivated.” Mr. Newton cracks open his phone and replaces the SIM
card. “Unless there is anything else, meeting adjourned.” His phone rings again. This time caller ID
reads “
heyPickUpIsaac .” He an swers the phone. “Well done Max. S
omeday you’ll have to show me how you did that.” The line is dead.

---

In a dirty alley way in Vancouver , a boy with a cane hangs up his cell phone as he slowly hobbles along supported by another boy.
“How much farther to the hotel,” Max says.
“My leg is killing me , and I think I’m going to barf.”

“One more block.
” Walker takes more of Max’s weight. “How come . . . no one ever told us . . . cities smell so bad? There’s gotta be a hundred smells in this alley . . . where they come from . . . I don’t wanna know.”

“Max, ” Walker says, “
just promise me one thing , OK
?”

“O
ne thing,” Max says weakly.

Walker covers his mouth in an attempt to keep the stench of the alleyway at bay .
“Promise you won’t tell them what we are planning anymore, seriously, I mean this is hard enough as it is .”

“I’m sorry,” Max replies.
T
hey’re all I have. Who else would I call?
“What did I do Walker? Why would they shoot at her?”
Because y ou’re playing games , and they’re not.
“I didn’t believe they wanted to kill any of us.”

“
I didn’t either. Let’s not die, OK
Max ?
”
They walk in silence for a few minutes.
“It’s not your fault or my fault.” Walker says. “Someone chose to point a gun at her. Someone chose to tell that person to pull the trigger.”

Max stumbles. “What will I do without Virginia now? I got her killed.
I feel horrible that she’
s dead , but I also feel terrified she won’t be here when I need her .
I should be thinking about her , not me . But t he next time the whispers get control of me , and I get stuck in fast forward I won’t have her to bring me back. I’ve never told anyone how bad it is when I’m on the other side , Walker . . .
”

“
All we can do is—I don’t know what we can do, ”
s ays Walker.

---

T
hey reach a door leading off the alley . The name of the hotel Walker is looking for is printed on it in simple stencil letters.
Walker props Max against the wall, so he can ‘rip’ a hotel key.

Walker takes out his laptop and fires it up. He takes a card out of his pocket and swipes it thr ough the reader beside the door. T
his smart card reads the last code used in the door. He then swipes it through the reader in his backpack and clicks a few times on his laptop. Finally Walker swipes a mag card through his reader again; this programs it with the entry code he just stole from the door.

Mental note, as k Max if we should hook up a mag card writer to our platform so we can make hotel keys easier.

Walker swipes the fresh key card through the hotel reader and the door buzzes open.
He pulls the heavy door open and helps Max in. Inside the hotel , Walker makes his way to the lobby, finds t w o complimentary workstations and releases their code into the hotel computer systems.
This makes hacking in to other hotel systems trivial. He books a room and downloads the key code.
‘Ripping’ another mag card key for the hotel room door after he's back with Max.

Walker puts Max to bed and leaves the hotel for money and food, returning about an hour later. Max is up and pacing. “Oh crap,” Walker say s dropping the food near the door .
“Max . . .
Max, it’s Walker.
” Walker touches Max’s arm and paces with him. Walker thinks about how Virginia would be able to get Max back so quickly. Walker paces with Max for a long time.

“Laptop,” Max says.

“It’s right here .” Walker offers it to Max.

Max takes it and sits , opening up their code base , and mumbles about bots.
Walker sits on the bed and watches Max.
He’
s coding and reading at the same time.
What the hell am I going to do?

Walker wakes up to Max standing over him, shaking him. “I need a credit card, working or broken, stol en or not, with a chip is better . . .
now.” Then Max sits back down and codes again.
Walker looks at the clock, 3
:15
A M. H
e goes back to sleep.

Walker wakes up in stifling heat , feeling trapped . He throws the covers off, stumbles to the thermostat, and sees it is set to thirty Celsius . “Max, what are you doing?” Max ignores him and keeps typing. Walker wonders, should I try to put him to bed? Should I feed him?

Peering over Max’s shoulder, Walker sees the logo for Lockheed Martin. Nice, hacked into the Skunkworks. “Max, who else did you hack into last night?”

“
CERN
, C
al T
ech , MIT
, a couple hundred other universitie s around the world, NASA , NSA . . .
I don’t know, more.”