Psion Omega (Psion series Book 5) (48 page)

Two years later, in January of 2089, Daniel Newsome,
endorsed by President Marnyo, Thomas Byron, and Interim President Gillespie,
was sworn in as the President of the Continental American Government,
campaigning on a platform to end corruption, restore freedoms to the people
through the limitation and reduction of centralized government, and advancing
quality of life through greater strides in cloning and scientific research.
Brickert was invited to attend the inauguration ceremony as a guest of honor,
but he declined in order to attend a friend’s wedding.

Thursday, November 18, 2100

COMMANDER BRICKERT PLACK strode across the courtyard at Alpha
headquarters on Capitol Island. Snow covered the brick walkway and benches
surrounding it. The evergreens were heavy and white, but the air smelled clean.
He checked the time and winced. A moment later his com rang.

“Hey,” the commander said. “Sorry. I just noticed
how late it is.”

“Yeah, Mr. I’ll-Be-Home-Early,” his wife chided him.

“I knew this would happen, I tell you,” Commander
Plack said. “Every time I say I’m coming home early—”

“The universe is out to get you. Get your butt home.
People are already here and waiting.”

“Okay. Love you.”

After the call ended, the commander picked up his
pace. It was the android’s fault. Every time he met with the Tensais regarding
the android, the meetings ran late. Congress wanted stricter guidelines
installed before the robots were allowed to go fully active. Androids were the
hottest debate in science. Politicians, philosophers, academics, and military
leaders all had given their input on what was now referred to as the
Skynet Rules
, or the laws on the
limitations of androids. The news covered the topic daily.

General Juraschek had asked Commander Plack to be
the liaison between the NWG Senate Committee on Appropriations and the Tensai
Alpha teams working in NWG R&D centers in Montreal. Meetings often lasted
all day. Afterward, Juraschek requested a briefing from his commanders.

Despite the hour and the setting sun, the commander
stopped in the middle of the courtyard to admire the statue in place. He did it
every day without fail. It was bronze and beautiful, two men and two women,
each staring off to the east, to the rising sun, an expression of bravery and
optimism adorning their faces. The commander knew each face well. The plaque
underneath said:

“It is easier to fight to preserve
the freedoms we already enjoy than to pay their cost in blood.”

—Thomas Byron (September 7,
2019 – November 5, 2091)

 
Then it
had four names listed:

Honorary General and NWG
Commander Walter Tennyson Byron (August 19, 2039 – November 11, 2087)

Ultra Dark Agent Vitoria Prado
(July 1, 2072 – November 11, 2087)

Psion Alpha Agent Samuel Harris
Berhane Jr. (November 18, 2070 – November 11, 2087)

Psion Beta Agent Gefjon Tvedt
(January 30, 2071 – November 11, 2087)

Each time Commander Plack looked at it, he
remembered the training, the battles, the sacrifices. It reminded him of those
he had lost and what he had gained since then. He found it hard not to go home
with a smile after putting things in perspective.

Fifteen minutes later, he arrived at his house.
Natalia flitted around the kitchen tailed by their two boys: Harris and
Patrick. When the commander saw her, he gave her a wink. “Now I know why you
wanted me home early.” He took a strand of her hair in his hand. “You wanted to
show off your new hairdo, right? It looks fantastic, I’ll tell you.”

“I haven’t been this blonde in years,” she said,
blushing. “How was work?”

“Boring,” he said, grabbing a knife to help her cut
vegetables. “The kids?”

“Oh just great …” his wife said, passing him
cucumbers. “Guess the new word Patrick learned today.”

“Um … Psion?”

“
No
. He
learned the word
no
. And he’s been
saying it all day.” Natalia kissed the commander on the lips. She tasted like
sweetened cream. “Harris thinks it’s hilarious so he asks Patrick questions all
day just to hear him say it.”

“Patrick, do you like breathing?” Harris asked his
little brother.

“No,” Patrick answered emphatically.

Harris’s giggle was infectious. Even Commander Plack
and his wife started to laugh. Commander Plack looked around the living room.

“So you were lying when you said people were here …”

“Yep.”

“What time are they coming over?”

“Whenever you call them.”

Dinner was grilled chicken salad. Commander Plack
complained that they hadn’t had burgers in a month, but when Natalia gave him
the stink eye, he stopped. Harris tried to help Patrick eat his food, but ended
up spilling most of it onto his lap or the floor. Both of them needed baths
before bed, which the commander did while his wife tidied the kitchen. Patrick
refused to let the commander bathe him, and ended up soaking the bathroom floor
and the commander’s clothes. No sooner did he have them dressed than his wife
shouted his name from the living room. “You have a call.”

“Who is it?”

“Who do you think? Your co-conspirator.”

“Patch it through to me.” When the commander’s com
beeped, he answered the call. “Yo, Rachel. How’s it going?”

“He’s suspicious.”

“Of course he is. You do this almost every year.
It’s his thirtieth birthday.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been telling him for a month that
the party is set up for Saturday. I thought I had him fooled.”

“He’s also the smartest man in the world.”

Commander Plack heard another voice in the
background. “Is that Brick? Let me talk to him.”

“No!” Rachel said. “You can’t—” Her voice grew
more faint. “Hey! Give me back my com!”

“Brick …” Jared’s voice was now much clearer. “You
don’t really think I’m going to fall for this, do you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ll tell
you.”

Jared laughed.

“Jared …” Despite thirteen years of practice, the
commander still had a hard time calling Jared by that name. “Just play along
with Rachel.
Pretend
. You know you’ll
be glad you did later.”

“Are Al and Marie coming?”

“Yeah. Hope is coming too. She wants to play games
with you. You know she’s got a crush on you, right? I’m talking a crush the
size of that new Arena you put into Beta headquarters.”

Jared snorted a laugh. “Yeah, Marie told me.”

“Don’t embarrass her. She’s twelve. Thirteen. Crap,
I forgot how old she is. Anyway, come over in about thirty minutes. I have to
put my stinkers in bed first.”

“It takes you thirty minutes to do that?”

The commander checked the time. “I promised Harris a
story tonight.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

“He calls it ‘The Uncle Story.’”

“What’s that about?”

“You. He just doesn’t know that particular detail.”

“You tell Harris stories about me?”

“Yep,” the commander said. “In great detail. He
loves them.”

“Whatever. Thirty minutes. See you then.”

“Yep. See you.”

The call ended with a beep. The commander shouted to
Natalia, “They’re coming over in thirty. Is that okay?”

“Fine,” she yelled back.

The commander hustled his kids to bed. Patrick went
down quickly, but Harris’s way of winding down was talking. The commander
listened patiently in the dark room, holding his son’s small hand while rubbing
the back of it with his palm. Finally, when Harris seemed to have gotten
everything out of his system, he took a deep breath and said, “Okay. I’m ready
for the story.”

The commander nodded. “It’ll have to be a shortened
version since we have company coming over.”

“Who?”

“Some friends. It’s a not-so-surprise birthday party
for Jared.”

“Can I stay up? Please?” Harris started to pout
until the commander tickled him. Then he pulled Harris’ covers up to his chin.

“All right, where should I start?”

“The beginning.”

“Okay, here we go. ‘The street lights of downtown
Johannesburg cast long shadows through the dirty front windows of an abandoned
grocery store …’”

THE END OF THE

PSION SERIES

AFTERWORD

*

Fellow bookworms,

I can’t believe it’s over. I really can’t. I’ve been working on the
Psion series for almost ten years, and now it’s over. Of course, the Psion
universe
isn’t over. I plan to revisit
it. Not necessarily these characters, but the fallout. The way things changed.
Specifically what happened in the first century or three following the events
of the Silent War. For now I’m calling it the Clone Saga, a name inspired by
that convoluted mess of a story arc in the Spider-man comics. Stay tuned for
more information.

For now, though, I need to say thank you. After
Psion Beta, I wrote that if you wanted to read more books, I needed your help
and support. And you gave it to me. My dreams have started to come true because
you bought my book and told others about it. You got me to this point, Fellow
Bookworm.
You
did. And I am so
grateful.

Many people have said to me over the years that they
wish Psion Beta was picked up by a publisher or was turned into a movie. Those
are my dreams too. If you want to help me make it happen, please share the
books. Please tell everyone how awesome you think they are! Please review each
of them on Amazon. Please get them in your library. Word of mouth is still the
greatest marketing tool.

I also want to mention a few people, the same who
I’ve mentioned in every book. My Beta readers: Britta Peterson, John Wilson,
Dan Hill, Jana Jensen, Natasha Watson, and Benjamin Van Tassell. These friends
have proofread almost every book I’ve written, and always given me solid
feedback. I am incredibly grateful for them. Also my proof readers, Caity
Jones, Shannon Wilkinson, and Laura Gray for helping me dot my T’s and cross my
I’s. And, of course, Brandon Dorman and Britta Peterson for their help with the
cover and internal art.

My good friend, Adam Morris, aka Maad Rosmir, has
been my consultant whenever I needed some advice. Kill Sammy or don’t? Kill
Jeffie or don’t? Kill Byron or don’t? I teetered so many times between these
three characters, and he helped me to envision exactly how I wanted it to end.
No, not every character survived, but in the end I decided that some of them
had suffered enough.

Will there be more about the main cast? Maybe
someday. For now I don’t have any ideas left in the tank to take me back into
the Psion series. If something comes along, will I write it? You bet I will. I
hope I’ve earned your trust and support so that when my next series comes
along, you’ll buy and share it.

Last of all, I have to tell my wife how much she has
helped me to finish the series. Late nights, long days at libraries,
irritability from stress, frustration at different steps along the way. She’s
put up with it all, and I couldn’t have done it without her. I am so thankful
she has been my partner in this endeavor. Thank you, Kat.

Until next time …

Long live Sammy!

— Jacob Gowans

www
.
jacobgowans
.
com