Psion Delta (40 page)

Sammy
put the car into drive and stepped on the gas pedal. The car jerked away from
the curb, and he immediately put his foot on the brake. “Sorry.”

A
car approached them from behind and honked because Sammy was now blocking the
lane. “Give me a second!” he called out. He put the car in reverse and again
hit the gas too hard. The car backed up on the curb.

“Okay,
switch!” Jeffie said.

“What?”

“Get
out. I’ll drive.”

“I’m
doing fine!”

“Move
it or lose it!”

Sammy
moved over and let Jeffie into the driver’s seat. With practiced ease, she
pulled out onto the road and drove west.

“Where
did you learn to drive?” Brickert asked.

“I’ve
been driving race karts since I was seven. I won a regional racing—”

“Okay,
we get it,” Sammy said.

Jeffie
winked at him. The drive was short and uneventful. They discussed a few
possible contingencies. Sammy was confident their plan was the best they could
come up with under the circumstances. It reassured him knowing his friends had
a few weapons and explosives, though he hoped that they wouldn’t have to use
them.

Downtown
Orlando was busy for a late Sunday night. Several restaurants and bars were
still open. Pockets of people roamed the streets. Sammy watched them with
curiosity. Partying, clubbing, bar hopping . . . it was a life he would never
know.
Then again, I, too, have a life that they will never know.

The
deeper they drove into town, the taller the buildings grew until they were in a
cluster of towers that reached toward heaven. The sky was clear, but no stars
were visible beyond the lights of the city.

“There,”
Kawai said, pointing between Sammy and Jeffie. “That’s the N building.”

“Pull
over,” Sammy said. “I’ll get out here.”

Jeffie
immediately curbed the vehicle. Sammy looked at her, then at the rest of his
friends. “Well, I guess I’ll see you when I see you. Remember the plan. Be
safe.”

As
he closed the door, they all wished him good luck in their own ways: Jeffie
took his hand through the window and squeezed it tightly, Kawai kissed her
fingers and touched them to her heart, Brickert reached over and shook Sammy’s
hand, and Natalia smiled bravely.

“Bye,
guys.”

The
air was warm and muggy. No breeze found its way through the maze of city
buildings. An unpleasant scent filled his nostrils. The SUV sped off past him.
Jeffie tapped her brakes to say goodbye one more time. Then, remembering his
conversation with Al a few weeks ago, Sammy said a silent prayer for his
friends.

The
walk to the N building lasted almost ten minutes. He crossed the four-lane
street and came to the main entrance. Large purple and gold Ns were on the
double doors that marked the Church Street entrance. They looked exactly like
the ones on the N building in Rio de Janeiro. Part of him wanted to shatter the
symbols into a thousand little pieces. However, that would attract unwanted
attention. The doors opened automatically for him as soon as he stepped near.

He
tried to ignore all the purple, but it was impossible. A lone man wearing a
purple business suit and a matching tie over a gold shirt sat behind his
information desk.

“Good
evening, sir. Do you need any assistance?”

Sammy
saw the sign for the elevators and politely declined.

There
were thirteen elevators in total. Only two of them had their own call buttons,
the first and the last. Number one was indeed the most northwestern of them.
Sammy called the elevator and waited. As he waited he heard the muffled tone of
the man at the desk speaking.

“
. . . arrived . . . moment . . . sir,” were the only words Sammy discerned.

Then
the elevator arrived with a very pleasant ding. When the doors opened, a chorus
of warnings went off in his head, reminding him of the many cartoons he’d seen
where characters were ambushed in elevators, gripping the walls as if that might
somehow save them. He imagined a great big sinister finger pushing a giant red
button, ordering the elevator safeties to release, plummeting the victims to
their deaths; although it didn’t make sense to bring someone all the way to
Orlando to push a button and kill them in an elevator.

This
comforting thought didn’t prevent the upward ride from feeling like a miniature
eternity. It began to rise the moment he pressed the button. As it moved, the
second movement of Beethoven’s sixth symphony played over the speaker. Sammy
had no idea how he even recognized that the music was Beethoven’s, let alone
which symphony and movement it was.

He
watched the digital display announce every floor from one to ninety-one. Around
the twentieth floor, his mouth went dry and tasted like sour drops without any
sugar. By the time he hit level fifty, his hands were shaking ever so slightly.
He couldn’t help but wonder what his friends were doing, and if he had already
gotten them all killed. He also thought of Katie and Stripe, and hoped no one
would kill them. That was his duty. His privilege. It was a secret he wanted to
keep even from himself, but the truth was there: Sammy wanted to watch their
eyes glaze over and dim to extinction.

The
music faded as the elevator stopped at the ninety-first floor. The doors opened
to reveal a small antechamber of the penthouse suite. Across the way was
another elevator, number thirteen.
The man at the lake had said there was
only one
, Sammy remembered. He stepped into a luxurious antechamber. As the
son of a popular district attorney, he’d attended several parties in many of
the finest homes in Johannesburg. None of them compared to the grandeur of this
small room.

A
camera hung on the side of one of the ornate wooden doors. Three more watched
him from other angles. They tracked his movement through the antechamber like
four robotic heads eerily stalking him. A small holo-screen turned on, but all
Sammy saw was the graphic of an odd-looking fox.

“Hello,”
announced the same voice Sammy had heard back at headquarters. “We’ve been
expecting you. Please come in.”

A
buzz from the door startled him. The screen went black. The doorknob of carved
gold felt cold to his touch, and he noticed his hands were still shaking and
his forehead had become moist. He paused to wipe his brow, then pushed the door
open.

* * *
* *

After
dropping off Sammy, Jeffie drove around the block and parked the SUV across the
street from the eastern garage entrance. Then she rolled down the side window
four or five centimeters for Li, who took several minutes to examine everything
through his binoculars.

“You
see anyone?” Kaden asked. “Anything?”

Li
shook his head, then got out of the car. “Wait for my signal.”

He
was gone about ten minutes before he came back and tapped on the glass.
“There’s a whole bunch of cameras in there. No way are we doing anything
without being seen. We could waste bullets shooting them, but by the time we do
that, they’ll know something’s up.”

Jeffie
stared at the garage. “So what do you want to do?”

“Since
stealth is out of the question, we may as well go for shock and awe.”

As
soon as Li was situated in the passenger seat, Jeffie slammed on the gas and
shot from the curb toward the entrance ramp. She gritted her teeth as the SUV
plowed through the gate, smashing it like tin foil.

“YEE
HAW!” Kobe shouted.

“Hold
on!” she yelled. They were in the garage. She sped around the first level,
weaving in and out of cars and lanes, looking for any sign of hostages or
Thirteens.

“I
don’t see anything,” Kobe said.

“Keep
looking,” Li ordered. “Look everywhere.”

After
two trips around the first level, they went down to the second. There were less
than half as many cars here which made it much easier to search the perimeter.
Jeffie also drove around this level twice. She wanted to leave nothing to
chance.

“Bottom
level,” Li said, “they’ve gotta be down there. Guns ready.”

Jeffie
pulled her pistol into her lap and heard the sounds of a few others checking
their ammo and magazines. The car shot down the ramp to the bottom. Only a few
lights were on at the lowest level of the garage. This made it difficult to see
anything without the direct aid of the headlights. Only a handful of cars were
parked here.

“Eyes
on front,” Li said. “Shields ready.”

Jeffie
sped through the third level once, seeing nothing. “One more time?” she asked
Li.

“One
more, then we bail.”

“Good
call,” said Kawai. “I’m getting the creeps down here.”

Me,
too.
Jeffie circled again, this time a little slower. She kept
her eyes glued to her surroundings, searching for anything, any sign.

“I
see nothing,” Kaden said. “Not even a bloodstain. Didn’t Sammy say a Thirteen
shot his mother in the leg?”

“Yeah,
I think so,” Li said.

Jeffie
reached the far back wall a second time and made a U-turn.

“Is
everyone thinking what I’m thinking?” Kobe asked.

“What?”
Brickert muttered. “That Sammy got duped?”

“Yep.”

As
Jeffie finished the turn facing back toward the ramp, bursts of light appeared
far away followed by loud bangs.

“BLAST
SHIELDS!” Li cried.

The
car was hit; one of the tires tore from its wheel. The steering column jerked
in Jeffie’s hands, and the SUV heaved to the right. Several people in the car
shouted, including Jeffie as she fought to control the vehicle. Finally the SUV
tipped over and rolled upside down. Sparks shot like fireworks as the metal
frame of the vehicle ground against the cement, sliding several meters before
grinding to a halt.

“Out!
Out! Out!” Li ordered. “Everyone on my side get out. Everyone on Jeffie’s side,
keep shielding until we’re clear.”

All
twelve Betas scrambled to follow his command. While shielding, Jeffie stared
out what was left of her window. She could see the outlines of at least a dozen
Aegis, all wearing their muddied green and brown uniforms. Behind her, Brickert
and Kaden were also shielding for the rest of the team to evacuate. Gun shots
continued to fire into the side of the SUV, slowly eating away at the frame and
glass.

“Jeffie’s
side, get out. Hurry!” Li ordered. “Kobe, shoot out the lights.”

Kobe
fired, and the Aegis took cover behind cement pillars and the nearest cars.
Jeffie, Kaden, and Brickert slowly backed out of the vehicle. Jeffie tried to
ignore the stings of pain from the glass she had to crawl over. By the time she
was out of the car, their side of the garage was almost pitch black. The only
light was what little filtered down from the upper levels near the ramp.

Jeffie
checked her gun with trembling hands.
Time to find out what kind of soldier
I really am.

* * *
* *

Sammy
was greeted inside the penthouse by two people. Neither of them were Mr.
Nemosio. At the door was a man of about thirty or thirty-five with brown hair,
standing a little shorter than Sammy. He was barefoot, but wore a well-cut pair
of jeans and a lilac collared shirt un-tucked. His hair was gently parted on
the right side, but other than that, he had no real distinguishing features.

“Hello,
Samuel,” he said when they were face to face. “Or you prefer Sammy, I think,
yes?” His voice had an American accent. Behind him, sitting on a love seat, was
Katie Carpenter. Her nose had been fixed, and she looked as beautiful and
haughty as ever. As far as Sammy could tell, she was unarmed. She no longer
wore the uniform of a Thirteen, but instead was dressed very casually with a
deep red blouse that accentuated her natural color and black pants. She, too,
was barefoot. Her petite toenails had been decorated professionally.

“Where
are my parents?” Sammy asked, ignoring the outstretched hand.

“Come
in and we’ll talk about it,” the man insisted.

“Where’s
Stripe? Mr. Nemosio?”

The
man gently chuckled in a non-condescending way. In fact, he sounded polite with
his incredibly soft voice. “Please come in and I’ll explain everything. But
first take off your shoes and socks. It’s a quirk of mine.”

24.
Fox

Monday
September 2, 2086

The
man had
a natural presence about him. His tone and demeanor made
Sammy feel instantly welcome. Sammy wanted to do as he was asked to please this
man.

“I
take it you are unarmed?” was his next question.

Sammy
indicated that he was.

“Then,
by all means, come in.”

“I
don’t want to. I came here to know where my parents are and where Mr. Nemosio
is. I don’t want anything to do with you.” Sammy looked past him to where Katie
sat. “Unless you’re willing to let me kill her and Stripe.”

“But
Sammy, I am Mr. Nemosio. I think, or at least hope, that you already guessed
that. As for your parents and the Aegis which you called ‘Stripe’ . . . come
in, sit down, enjoy some of my food and drink, and I will explain many things
to you. Though I’m sorry to disappoint you that I won’t tolerate you killing
Katie.”

Sammy
backed away. “No, this is a stupid trick. I’m leaving.”

“All
I want is to play a game of chess with you!” the man said as though he was
amused by the whole situation. “That’s it. You do that, and I will tell you
everything you want to know.”

“Like
what? What do you think I want to know?”

“Why
have people you trust been lying to you for the past eighteen months? I’ll
answer that to start. Why did my people try to kill you in Rio de Janeiro last
November? I’ll answer that, too. Most of all, I’ll explain to you what your
place is in this world.”

Sammy
looked into the man’s eyes and realized he believed him. He took off his shoes
and socks and placed them by the door. The man observed him closely as he did
this.

“It’s
a tradition. Thank you for honoring it. Now come in. I would introduce you to
Katie, but you’ve already met.”

Sammy
glared at her as a hatred so powerful and violent rose up in him that he
considered attacking her right there in the man’s living room. Katie watched
him without any expression.

“As
for myself, you can call me the fox.”

“The
fox?” Sammy asked.

“Yes.
You said it perfectly.”

“That’s
not your real name.”

“Naturally.”
The fox led Sammy inside. He gestured to the right to a large dining area. The
room was dark, but Sammy thought he could see something moving around the
table—something large like a dog. “I would show you into my dining room, but
since it’s the three of us, I thought we might keep this meeting more informal
and eat right here in the living room. Are you hungry?”

Sammy
shook his head, not at all willing to partake of this man’s food, especially in
the presence of Katie.

“Once
you see what we’re eating, you’ll probably change your mind.” The fox took three
plates from a dining room cabinet to the large coffee table in the living room,
set them down, and pulled around two arm chairs until they were facing each
other at opposite sides. “Excuse me while I get us plates.”

Sammy
turned to Katie. “You fixed your nose again. I can’t even imagine how much that
operation cost you.”

Katie’s
expressionless face soured. “We’re not through, you and I. Right now, I’m here
to enjoy the show, but we’ll have our time later.”

“Isn’t
modern medicine miraculous?” Then he squinted at her. “Oh, but look . . . they
missed a spot right here.” He touched the bridge of his own nose. “You know
what they say? Some wounds never heal.”

“Did
your little friend ever heal after he jumped in front of my gun?” she hissed at
him, turning in a second from gorgeous to hideous.

Sammy
ground his teeth together until they squeaked. “I will bleed you.” His voice
dropped to a low, gravelly sound. “I will hurt you. I will humiliate you. And
then . . . I swear . . . I will finally end you.” He stood up and went back to
the doors he’d entered. They were locked. He gave them a gentle push to get a
feel for how solid they were. He doubted he could open them with even the
strongest of his blasts.

The
fox came back carrying a tray with food, water and utensils. “Please, come sit
across from me.”

“Why
are the doors locked?”

“To
prevent you from leaving until our conversation is finished. I usually don’t
eat this late, but it’s been a very busy day. Not only trying to get you here,
but also finishing up an enormous project that I’ve been working on for a
considerable amount of time.”

Sammy
turned back to the doors.

“You’ve
correctly guessed that blasts won’t budge them. Blast proof.” He raised his
eyebrows at his little joke.

It
seemed pointless for Sammy to refuse anymore. He took the chair facing the fox
and surveyed the offerings. The food smelled exquisite. The fox chewed on a
tender piece of lamb and pointed his fork at Sammy’s own piece. Sammy pushed
the plate away. “I already ate.”

Katie
helped herself to the offerings. The silence lasted only a half minute or so.

The
fox put down his fork and wiped his lips with a cloth napkin. “You’ll be
sixteen in a few months. I’m just over fifty, but for as young as I am, I have
accomplished more than I ever thought I could. I built my company—N
Corporation—from the ground up. The money I’ve earned from N has allowed me to
do things that most people only fantasize about in their sleep. Are you sure
you won’t have any water?”

He
held up a bottle of water for Sammy, who again declined. “I believe bottled
water has a taste, even if most people disagree. This is the best water I’ve
ever had, I think. I visited the bottling plant when I bought the company to
see what they were doing to give it that taste. I won’t tell you, though, in
case you try to steal my secret.”

He
took a long swig and sighed after swallowing.

“Do
you believe in God, Sammy?”

“I
don’t know,” he answered truthfully, “but I pray sometimes.”

“That’s
a very good answer. I don’t believe in God. I reached that decision after years
of genetic research into the Anomaly explosion. The Bible says that man was
created in the image of God. Does that mean that God can shoot blasts out of
his hands? Does it mean that he’s a sociopath like the Thirteens supposedly
are? Or look at the deformities and birth defects people have as a result of
the vaccine they used to counter the Scourge. We callously label them Anomalies
One through Nine. Does God have those? Now, a theologian would argue that
people like you are simply a mutation or a sickness—an aberration from the
normal. What happens, though, if anomalies become the new norm over the course
of several generations of selective breeding? Is man still created in God’s
image? Or does God’s image change? What do you think?”

“I
still don’t know.”

The
fox smiled indulgently. “Fair enough. You’re starting to strike me as a quiet
person. That’s okay. Do you know much about genetics?”

“Only
a little.”

“Too
bad. Genetics is the most powerful and important field of study out there. It
also happens to be very lucrative.”

“Unless
there is a God,” Sammy added dryly, “then theology would be the most important
field of study.”

The
fox laughed with delight. “True. But there’s no God, so let’s go back to
genetics. I think you’ll find what I have to say is of great interest.”

Katie’s
com rang. “Excuse me,” She got up and moved into the kitchen. Only a few
seconds later, she returned and spoke to the fox, “A word with you.”

The
fox loaded the food tray with all the plates and left after her. Sammy couldn’t
hear their conversation, but not from lack of trying. When Katie emerged a
second time, she winked at Sammy, put on her shoes, and left the apartment. The
fox returned as well, his face unreadable. He carried a towel, which he used to
wipe down the table. Then he put a chessboard on it.

The
board was made of black and gray stone with white lines set in to form the
grid. Onyx, if Sammy’s guess was correct. One set of pieces was made of silver,
the other of gold. Sammy had no idea if they were solid or not, but based on
the quality of decorations surrounding him, he’d bet they were. The fox set the
gold pieces in front of himself. From somewhere unseen, Sammy heard paws
walking on tile floor and again saw an animal roaming in the dark background of
the dining area.

“You
have a dog?” he asked the fox.

“Something
like that. You know how to play the game?”

Sammy
nodded as he helped set the board. When they had each finished, the fox took
one pawn from each side and placed them behind his back, then offered two
closed fists to Sammy.

“You
pick.”

Sammy
chose the left hand. The piece was silver.

“Will
it distract you if we converse while we play?” the fox asked.

“I
don’t play as much as I used to.”

“I
bet,” the fox said, but the way he said it made Sammy think he knew exactly how
long it had been. The pawns were placed back on the board. Sammy moved first.
The fox moved almost immediately afterward. After they’d each made four moves,
the fox spoke again.

“Like
I was saying, genetics is my life’s work. I gathered into my company some of
the best minds my money could buy—people far more advanced in the field than
myself. I started this company when I was twenty, but I was years too late. By
the time I launched N Corporation, the World Constitution had been passed, and
part of it was the sanctity of life clause. Do you know that part?”

“Not
verbatim.”

“It
forbids the splicing and cloning of human DNA. It also forbids most cases of
abortion. The principle behind it led to the weapons laws that the NWG enacted
several years ago. See, it all goes back to the Scourge, Sammy. People were
much more liberal back then than they are now. As you’d imagine, the deaths of
billions of people can have quite an impact on society. In 2035, almost
seventy-five percent of the world’s population believed abortion should be
legal in all cases. Several countries in Europe and Asia had laws allowing a
newborn to be killed if it had any detectable disease or physical abnormality.
Fast forward fifty years. Guess how many people in your nation last year
believed abortion should be allowed in all cases?”

Sammy
had no idea. He was too busy staring at the board trying to discern the fox’s
next move. “Sixty? Fifty?”

The
fox raised a hand and spread his fingers. “Five. Five percent of people in the
NWG think abortion should be allowed in any case. And I’ll bet that five
percent whispered their answer when they gave it. So, back to my point. When I
was starting up my genetics research business, and I found myself frustrated
because I wasn’t allowed to use the technology and power waiting to be
explored. For someone like me, it was unacceptable.”

“What
do you mean?” Sammy asked, looking up from the game. The fox was playing a
heavily defensive style, which countered Sammy’s offensive style well. He would
not be surprised if the game ended in a stalemate. Even Justice had never
played as well as the fox.

“Do
you believe one man can change the world?”

Sammy
was about to say no when he remembered his history lessons: Caesar, Alexander
the Great, Jesus, Mohammed, Napoleon, Abraham Lincoln. These men had powerful
influences on the world. “Yes and no. I believe one man can affect change in
many people. But the world is too big and different to be changed by one
person.” For a moment, Sammy thought he sounded like his father, and it made
him feel grown up.

“You’re
wrong, I think. Let me tell you why. If the conditions are right, one man can
do it. For example, it could be something accidental, like Daw Aran, the man
who first contracted the Scourge in Thailand that killed billions. Or Robert
Oppenheimer, the man who led the Manhattan Project. Or Christopher Columbus.”
The fox moved his next piece, advancing another pawn. “Other times it is
intentional. Like me. I put in motion the machinations that caused the split
between the CAG and the NWG.”