Stones (Data) (12 page)

“Your passport?” His dad asks him.

“Maybe that’s it. Which one should I take?” Matt says. “I’ve got a whole stack.”

Kent rolls his eyes up to the roof of the truck. “Use James Johnson. It’s the newest and should be the safest for now. But bring the others as well. You never know what might happen.”

“Got it.” Matt jumps out of the truck and runs back into the house, flying down the stairs to his room. He pulls open the drawer on the nightstand next to his futon and rummages around until he finds a stack of passport cards bound together with mag-tape. He grabs the whole set.

Turning to leave, he steps on the rock lying next to his futon. It stops him cold. He bends down to pick it up and stares into its dark blue depths. It reminds him of the dreams that kept him stirred up most of the night. Shaking his head, he tosses the rock into the air. His fingertips move across its rough surface as it slips away and lands on the futon. There’s an instant of regret, and he feels the urge to go back and pick it up. Then he remembers he’s late for his flight. It jars him back to reality.

I don’t have time for this.

Turning, he bounds upstairs and out the back door.

He drops into the driver’s seat, but notices his dad is gone.

A couple of seconds later, his dad comes into the garage with a bag hanging from his fingers and climbs into the cab. “Forgot my water bottle and some junk food. I’ll put some in your backpack when we get to the airport.”

As soon as his dad shuts the cab door, Matt’s foot hits the accelerator, and he backs out of the garage like a laser beam on a mission.

Once they get to the freeway, traffic is light.

Kent flips on the cop scanner and nods.

Matt gets the message and pushes the accelerator to the floor. With every passing mile, the prospect of getting to the airport on time improves. After a half hour of driving, Matt eases back into the seat and lets his right hand drop off the steering wheel to rest on his thigh.

Kent is staring out the window at the Mosquito Range running arrow-straight, parallel to the freeway, north to south. The sound of breaching whales getting a close shave floats in the background.

Matt pulls in a deep breath and lets it out. “Hey Dad, what projects are you working on?”

Kent is silent, eyelids drooping half-shut.

There aren’t any cops in the rear-view mirror. The only other car is a mile in front. Matt touches the car-com and switches off the motor-tone. A bubble of silence engulfs him and his dad as they shoot down the road.

Matt tries again.

“Dad.”

The sound of Matt’s voice is clear and distinct. It seems to have the desired effect of pulling Kent back from his daydreaming.

“What?” Kent’s head slowly swivels so that he’s looking forward down the freeway.

“Working on anything interesting right now?”

“Just the usual stuff.” Kent’s voice is listless and empty.

“Come on, Dad. We’re not going to a funeral. I’ll be back in three months.”

A smile flits across Kent’s face. “Why the sudden interest in my work?” He turns to his son.

“Just trying to make conversation. We have time to talk before I go, if you want.”

“Let’s see.” Kent licks his lips. “I found a deep-encrypted package in one of my Meshboxes a month ago. No identifiable source. Couldn’t get it open even after trying my whole bag of tricks.”

“You get anonymous stuff all the time, Dad. How did you finally get it open?” Matt smiles to himself. He knows how to get his dad talking.

“Turns out I got the key in the same Meshbox a few days later.” Kent’s shoulders drop down, a sign that he’s starting to loosen up. “Some hot encryption-ware just developed at Zertek Corporation. Priority-One government stuff.”

“What did you find when you opened the secret package up?”

“A complete dossier on Jaguar Corp’s recent discovery of massive lithium deposits in the Congo. And their plans to open a new mining operation there.”

Matt nods. “Which, of course, is illegal, since lithium mining has been outlawed for the last twenty years.”

“Yep. I’ve got board of director minutes, internal discussion memos, confidential messages from management, even hi-def video of the CEO talking to the Congolese prime minister about the whole operation.” Kent becomes more animated the longer he talks. Anyone could tell he loves his work. “Now I just have to piece it all together, figure out a bullet-proof prosecution strategy and send it to the FBI on a silver plate. Fun stuff.”

“Dad, it’s always been a mystery to me how all this top-secret-planet-trashing-corporate-intel finds its way to you. I know you don’t advertise.”

“Not directly,” Kent says. “But I have my contacts and sympathizers out there. They don’t know who I am or where I live. But they know what I do and that I’m not afraid to take on the power structure. I suppose they also know I have nothing—” He looks at Matt and hesitates for a second. “—almost nothing, to lose. Anonymity is a powerful shield.”

“What about MX Global, the corporation you told me about last night. Do you still keep track of them?”

“Absolutely,” Kent’s eyes narrow as he speaks. “They’re a prime target for obvious reasons. I know more about what goes on there than most insiders.”

Matt can tell he’s touching a sensitive area.

“So you’ve got a contact on the inside?” Matt raises an eyebrow.

“Several,” Kent mutters.

“Do they know who you are?”

“Don’t think so, but you can never be sure. It doesn’t really matter.” Kent looks to his right in the direction of the mountains.

“So what’s the latest on them? I know they’ve grown huge the last few years.” Matt wonders how much his dad will tell him.

“The big story is spiking profits that defy gravity.” Kent waves his hand in front of his face in disgust. “It’s a hot stock. Everybody wants a piece.”

“Sounds like typical corporate behavior to me. What’s the problem?” Matt looks down the road and sees they are approaching what the locals call the spaghetti bowl, an intersection of several major roads and freeways. It’s also a convenient place for cops to hang out. He takes his foot off the accelerator and touches the car-com to re-engage the motor-tone. Distant whale calls drift into the cab.

“The problem is that no one knows the source of the profits. The company’s ISEC filings claim they’re making a killing from proprietary trading in stocks, futures, derivatives.”

“So?”

“Sounds fishy to me. A global industrial conglomerate making more money from trading stocks than its phosphate mines in the eastern Pyrenees? There’s something else, too.”

“What’s that?”

“All the money they’re throwing at Japanese
Shinto
.”

“The new green religion?”

“Yep. MX Global has been making massive charitable donations to support the building of Shinto shrines all over the world, including here.” Kent points out the window as they pass a shiny new wood shrine with the familiar
torii
gate, two vertical pillars capped with two horizontal beams.

“Sounds like you’ll be having fun working all this out while I’m gone.”

“No doubt.” Kent has an adventurous look in his eye. “By the time you get back, I should have the goods on MX Global. Things will be different. Count on it.”

“M
ade it.” Matt stops the truck at the curb, jumps out and grabs his overstuffed backpack out of the back.

Kent moves to the sidewalk.

As Matt drops the bulky pack to the ground, he stands a few feet away and sees the moistness well up in his dad’s eyes.

“Here’s some water and snacks.” Kent opens the large flap of the backpack and stuffs a bag inside as Matt looks away and surveys the airport. “I don’t say it enough, but I hope you know your dad loves you.” Kent drops his arms to his side and looks down at his feet. There’s a hint of emotion in his voice. “Be careful. Keep your eyes open. Remember what I’ve taught you.”

“Love you too, Dad.” Matt’s voice has an obligatory tone to it.

Crossing the silent divide between them, Kent extends his arms and wraps them around his son.

Matt feels the stares of strangers on the sidewalk. Like a mannequin, he brings stiff arms up to wrap around his dad, palms not quite touching his back. As they stand together, Matt listens to the passing traffic and looks up at the time on a large digital clock.

“Got to go, Dad. My flight is about to take off. See you in September.” He pulls away, picks up his backpack and slings it over one shoulder. Turning back, he waves and walks away, knowing there’s a thousand things his dad wants to say to him right now. When he sneaks a backward glance, his dad is just standing there watching Matt disappear through the open glass doors.

Matt takes a deep inhale as he steps inside.

Finally free.

He begins to jog to the security portal.

“Matt!”

Stunned, he turns around at the sound of his name. Kent is rushing toward him.

Rolling his eyes, Matt tries hard to suppress a look of utter disgust. “What do you want, Dad?”

“Almost forgot.” Kent pulls a thin blue cylinder with green spiral grooves out of his pocket and tosses it.

Matt stretches out his arm and grabs it in mid-air. “Got it, Dad.” He looks down at the new jax with grooves for his fingers and instantly likes the feel of it in his hand.

“Make sure you pull the memory cube from your old one and destroy it,” Kent says. “Throw away the jax. Start using this one instead. You’ve had the old one for three months. Time for a change.”

“Will do, Dad. See you later.” He turns to jog to the security portal, holding his breath.

Keep walking. Freedom is just around the corner.

“Hey, Matt!” His father’s voice trails behind him.

Matt exhales and turns back.

“What?” His patience is starting to wear thin.

“One last thing.” Matt’s dad rushes to him and reaches out to his shoulder. “Be careful with the jax. No video or holo messages. They can’t be encrypted. Too easy to trace.”

“I know, Dad.” Matt gives his dad the best eye-roll he can muster. “You’ve told me a thousand times.”

“Sorry, son. It’s hard to let you go. Remember—” Kent’s voice fades off as he spoke.

“Remember what, Dad?” Matt decides it is useless to get away until his dad has said everything he needs to say.

“Remember that I love you.”

“I know.” Matt offers up a weak smile and stands for a moment looking at his dad. “For the millionth time, I love you, too.” He turns and walks away.

T
here he goes.

Kent watches his son disappear around a corner. With conscious effort, he walks back to the truck at the curb, resisting the urge to rush back into the airport.

He tries to clear his mind but can’t quell a rising tide of fear. Will Matt get through customs with his fake passport? What if he ignores the warnings about sending video or holo to Jessica? Will he be vigilant in observing his surroundings? Will he be a victim of the rampant crime against foreigners in Japan?

Kent’s mind races faster and faster, out of control.

A honking horn tears him from his thoughts.

“Hey, you going to stand there staring at the sidewalk forever?” A man in a black limousine sticks his head out of the window and motions for Kent to move the truck away from the curb.

He jumps into the Chikara and eases out into the road with nothing but the quirky motor-tone to remind him of Matt. Reaching out to turn it off, he draws his hand back, finding it strangely comforting.

A random thought pops into his head.

The previous night, Matt had cried out, and it reminded Kent of the bad dreams that were a nightly ritual after they escaped to Japan. Startled at the sound, Kent had crept downstairs to check on his son. There was a new gadget on the floor next to his head. From a distance, it looked like some kind of organic-looking, non-symmetrical object that glowed light green in the dark.

It’s strange that Matt said nothing about it. Like most kids his age, he usually bragged about any new device he bought. Whatever it was, Kent curses himself for not asking his son whether he had installed an anonymity shield on it.