Stones: Theory (Stones #4) (8 page)

As the hem of his robes float an inch off the grass, a wall of journalists wave hands and shout at him in the aggressive fashion of the American press. Engaging the inner ear implants, he is enveloped in a bubble of silence and surrounded by the four broad-shouldered men escorting him, two in the front and two in the back.

At the end of the rope walkway, they usher him through a set of open glass doors that close behind him, sealing him off from the outside world.

“This way, Your Holiness.” A man in a dark suit and laser glasses steps forward and bows at precisely the correct angle. “The President is anxious to welcome you.”

They walk down a white corridor and into a high-ceilinged room. Multiple doors hang along the three walls. All but one of them are shut. Following his escort through the only open door, Miyazawa steps off the hardwood floor and onto the deep carpet of the Oval Office.

His eyes are immediately drawn to a man in his early fifties with a white shirt and blue suit. Conservative feather epaulets rest on his shoulders.

Miyazawa’s escort steps to the side. “Mr. President, I present His Holiness, Tomoyuki Miyazawa, High Priest of the Earth United Shinto Alliance.”

“My pleasure,” says the President. “Welcome to the United States of America. We’ve been looking forward to your visit for some time.”

The President steps out from behind his desk and walks forward, hands at his side. Miyazawa bows deeply. When he looks up, the President is still standing, awkward and erect.

“Please sit down. I’d like to talk about your plans.”

The President directs Miyazawa to a set of two chairs against an adjacent wall, set up with the American and Japanese flags behind them. Miyazawa sits in the chair in front of the American flag.

“First of all, let me say that it’s a great honor to have been invited to your country.” Miyazawa’s head drops in an elegant sitting bow.

“After what you did for the American people, and the people of the entire planet, I can assure you that the honor is all mine.” The President casts his glance at the escort, still standing like a sentinel near the open door, hands behind his back. “Jim, would you mind stepping into the hall for a moment. I’d like to have a couple minutes with our esteemed guest alone, before the press stampedes in here.”

The man nods and walks out of the room, pulling the doors shut behind him.

“Now, Mr. Miyazawa, tell me about your plans.”

Miyazawa makes every effort to smile, not sure of the result. “With all due respect, we wish to build a shrine in every city and town across your great country. A thousand a day for the next 30 days.”

“Incredible.” The President’s eyebrows crawl high on his face. “I can’t imagine the manpower and financing such an ambitious effort requires.”

“We have many benefactors and an entire industry in Japan dedicated to the production of shrines and the training of new priests.” Miyazawa clasps his hands together and drops them into his lap. “We find that moving quickly is the most efficient way to meet the needs of the people.”

“Splendid. You can count on my full support.” The President leans in closer and lowers his voice. “There is one other matter that I had hoped to discuss with you. In private.”

The pleasant smile on Miyazawa’s face vanishes for a split second until he is able to force it back. The President’s words have caught him off guard. It’s highly irregular to have any discussions of substantive importance on such official state visits, all of which are highly choreographed and planned in advance.

“Of course.” Miyazawa’s body presses into his chair and struggles to relax. A film of sweat sticks to the undergarment on his back. “What would you like to discuss?”

“I’ll get right to the point. It’s about
The Event
.”

Miyazawa’s eyes narrow, but he keeps silent.

The President lifts his body into an upright position. “Based on the intelligence provided to us by your organization, it appears that the Chinese were the first to initiate the nuclear detonations, yet they vociferously deny any wrongdoing, claiming it’s all the result of high-level hacking into their systems. I was hoping you could shed some light on what really happened.”

Miyazawa stares ahead, unsure of how to proceed. “As you know, Mr. President.” The words begin to flow before he knows what he’s saying. “The Earth United Shinto Alliance is a purely neutral party, committed to world peace among all nations, reaching out to all and showing favor to none.”

“Of course.” The President nods. “I fully understand the delicate position that you occupy. I was just hoping that, as a supporter of world democracy and freedom for all, you might be able to assist the United States in—”

To his horror, Miyazawa finds himself shaking his head vigorously back and forth, completely out of character. Words rise in his throat. He struggles in vain to hold them back.

“Before we are able to proceed with our month-long campaign for the benefit of your country, I must have your word that you will not attempt to interfere in, or carry out any investigations concerning, our internal matters.” After he hears the words he has just spoken, Miyazawa sits mortified. Against his will, his lips open again. “Do I have your word, Mr. President?”

The President’s mouth drops open. “Well, yes, of course, we have no intention of—”

Before the President can finish his sentence, the doors burst open and a mob of journalists barge into his office, holo-cams engaged as they point at the two men sitting in chairs.

An oversized smile graces the face of the President. “It’s been a pleasure speaking with you, Mr. Miyazawa. We wish you every success as you spread your work of peace through our nation and bring the blessings of Shinto to our shores.” His hand extends out in a show of friendship.

Something lifts Miyazawa’s hand, and the President’s moist fingers wrap around it. “The pleasure has been all mine.”

“S
ee how it works?” Ryzaard relaxes in his chair as a large color holo of the private interview between the President and Miyazawa plays above the crystal table.

Jerek shakes his head in silent admiration. “I don’t know how you do it, but it certainly seems to work.”

“For individual subjects, it’s easy. I simply think the words, and they speak them. There’s nothing they can do. I’m in complete control. I’ve been doing it with the Shinto priest for the last several months.” Ryzaard blows a line of smoke off to the side. “But there are limitations. As powerful as the Stones are, it only works for certain weak-minded individuals. Yet there are billions of people in the world. The question is: how do we control them all?”

“You’re going to need incredibly sophisticated technology.”

“We already have it, but it’s still in the experimental stage.”

“You’re talking about the implant you tried on Little John?” Jerek shakes his head. “That turned out to be a total disaster.”

“Not a
total
disaster.” Ryzaard leans back. “It did work to a certain degree, enough to allow me to take over his Stone. But the implant procedure was too cumbersome. We need to tweak it so that it’s much quicker, simpler, more reliable.”

Jerek takes a long inhale, holds it and lets the air escape slowly out his nostrils. “Mass production of implants for mind control on an enormous scale. Instantaneous connection on contact with skin. No invasive surgery. It involves novel issues of neurology, brain structure, mental states, mass psychology. I’m a physicist, not a psychiatrist.” Jerek’s eyes wander up to the ceiling. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“As I said, we already have the basic technology.” Ryzaard’s fingers move across the bluescreen on Jerek’s desk. A holo of the green jewel shaped like a miniature Stone floats in front of them. “With the right people, we should be able to open this up, reverse engineer and improve on the design.”

“I’ll need help. Brain specialists, especially any with neuro-implant experience. But even with the best minds on our team, it may be beyond our current level of technology.” Jerek leans in close to the holo, running his fingers across its surface, gazing at the prototype. “Who knows what we’ll find when we open this up. If we even can. Where did you get this? The design looks so . . .”

“Alien?”

“Yes,” Jerek says. “That’s the word.”

Ryzaard stands. “You’re right. It is alien. Not of this world. But I’d rather not go back to the source for improvements. They tend to be very demanding, very
needy
, and I’m not sure I would be willing to pay their price. See what you can do with this prototype. We’re going to need about
twenty billion
of them shortly.”

M
att moves through the trees toward the expressway carrying a bulging backpack. “Looks like as good a place as any to catch a ride.” Jessica and Yarah follow him. Both of them have small backpacks hanging from their shoulders.

“Tell me again why we’re going to New York.” Jessica catches up, a little out of breath. “Seems like the last place in the world we would want to be right now.”

“I know,” Matt says. “But I think the dream last night was the answer I’ve been looking for.”

“How so?” Jessica squints up at him in the morning light. “What you saw was two different versions of the same event. One where the Woman just stood there and got killed, and another where she fought back and killed the enemy. I guess the real question is, which one really happened?”

“I have a
theory
about it. A theory about life.”

“What sort of theory?”

“Simple:
it doesn’t matter what happens to us in this life.
I know that sounds crazy. It goes against everything we’re taught in our culture. But I think that’s what the Woman was trying to tell me.” Matt looks behind and takes Yarah’s hand so he is walking between her and Jessica. “Think about it. Either way, the Woman didn’t run away. She faced evil. Went out to meet it. You might win, or you might lose. The result doesn’t really matter. What matters is what you
do
. Not what is
done
to you. Maybe that’s the answer.”

Jessica looks skeptical. “Maybe. Sounds a little scary. How can you be sure your interpretation is correct?”

“I can’t. That’s just the best I can do for now.” Matt stops and puts his arms around her. “Besides, even if I’m wrong, it’ll be fun to be back in New York City. Think of it as a little family vacation.”

“I love cities!” Yarah squirms her way between them.

The low rumble of a ground transport floats up from over the next rise.

“At least they still use this road. It shouldn’t be too hard to get a ride.” Matt turns and drops down to Yarah’s level. “But we need your special help. Something only you can do.” Matt squeezes her hand and looks into her eyes. “You got it?”

“Sure, I can do it. It’ll be fun! I just need to be a little closer so I can get a good read.” Yarah breaks away and runs ahead. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Be careful,” Matt yells to her.

Jessica inhales the fragrance of wildflowers in the open field. “Mind telling me what’s going on?”

“Oh, sorry,” Matt says. “Yarah’s going ahead to scan the transports as they move by. She’s looking for a driver that’s one of the Children. From what they told us up on the mountain, a lot of them are. It’s how the Children move around the country so quickly.”

“Wish I could communicate with her like that.”

Matt laughs and shakes his head. “Are you sure about that? She’s always in my head. It’s hard to keep anything hidden from her.”

“But at least you can hear her voice. That kind of strong connection must be incredible.”

“I think it’s something shared between Holders,” Matt says. “A byproduct of having a Stone.”

A flock of birds shoots by overhead on a line taking them back to the mountains. “Yellow-bellied sapsuckers. Beautiful creatures.” Jessica gazes up at them, arching her neck. “I’m going to miss these mountains, but I guess we can’t stay here forever.”

As they come over the top of the rise and see the expressway stretching out below, they both walk in silence. There is a shared sense between them that the natural world is receding farther and farther away, like a wave pulling back from the shore, leaving them with a slight feeling of melancholy.