OMEGA SERIES BOX SET: Books 5-8

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OMEGA SERIES BOX SET: Books 5-8 Page 52

by Banner, Blake


  A wave of nausea swept over me. My skin went cold and prickled. It was a terrible question to be asked. When I answered my voice was husky and didn’t sound to me like my own voice. “They were trying to kill me.”

  “We had a truce! Alpha told me! You made a truce! You agreed not to come after us!”

  His voice was still shrill. I didn’t answer. Instead I asked, “Are they coming?”

  He wasn’t going to answer, but after a moment he sighed. “Alpha insisted. He believes if he talks to you, you will stop. Beta did not want to come, neither did Delta. But Alpha insisted.”

  I nodded.

  His breathing was heavy. He was staring at me with angry eyes. Suddenly he spat, “What the hell do you want?”

  I studied his face, his outraged expression, his angry eyes. The most terrifying thing about him was that he truly believed that he had been wronged. He was going to die without ever realizing that he had faced justice, and what he had done was wrong.

  “I want to live in a world, Fenninger, where my children, if I ever have any—where people in general—don’t have their souls consumed by vampires like you. Where there is no cabal of privileged Über Beings shaping people’s minds, thoughts and behavior to suit their idea of what the world should be like. I want to live in a world where people, all people, are as nearly free as is possible, with nobody controlling my mind and telling me what I can or cannot think.”

  He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Bleeding fucking hearts…”

  I shook my head. “As far as I can see, Fenninger, the only people bleeding around here are you guys. You made a mistake. All of you made a big mistake. You see, you do not own anybody.”

  The voice was soft, smooth and resonant. It spoke behind me. It said, “That is where you are wrong, Lacklan. It’s where you have always been wrong. We own everyone and everything. And the only reason you have been able to hurt us as much as you have, is because you are one of us.”

  I sighed. “Hello, Ben.”

  SEVENTEEN

  The small group of men gathered in that room at that moment were straight out of a conspiracy theorist’s wet dream. The only one who wasn’t a household name was Ben. He stood looking down at Fenninger with contempt writ large on his face. “Put some clothes on, for God’s sake, Epsilon, you’re a disgrace.” He turned to face me. Beta, the richest man in the world, stood on his right, peering at me through his glasses like I was a curious specimen. I sat looking up at his amiable face, thinking that possibly no man since Julius Caesar, or Jesus Christ—the two JCs—had affected the world quite so profoundly as this geek.

  The man on his left, Delta, barely in his late thirties, as the man who had transformed the entire meaning of the expression ‘social life’. Almost single-handed, he had created the Zombie Revolution. Between the three of them, Beta, Delta and Epsilon, they controlled the entire flow of opinion, news, information and, I realized, moral judgment in the Western world. With the matrices of their technology they shaped and directed every sentence, every thought and every emotion that was expressed online. They shaped, controlled, created and destroyed every relationship online. And that was, surely, practically every relationship in the Western world.

  But what was worse, was that between these three men, they decided who the role models were that would guide humanity into the future. They would design and provide the role models who would lay down the ethical and moral codes of thought and behavior that would guide our future generations. No parent, no teacher, no mentor or guide could ever compete with the perfect, silicon role models that these three men could create and broadcast into every mind on Earth.

  And these role models, these leading lights, the new prophets, these men and women whom our entire civilization was modeling, were not only fictitious, they were leading our civilization into the greatest catastrophe Mankind had experienced since the Flood. And their lesson, what they were teaching, was how to be servile, how to be slaves, how to lie down and die.

  Fenninger stood and went away in search of clothes. Ben turned to face me and they all sat. Ben looked older. He had gone slightly gray at the temples since I had last seen him. He said, “I thought we had an understanding, Lacklan. We would leave you alone and you would leave us alone. Yet you have deliberately come after us. I thought I could trust your word. Clearly I was wrong.”

  I smiled and gave a small laugh. “I am receiving a moral lecture from a man who plans to massacre seven billion people and enslave those who survive.”

  “Really? We are going to have this conversation again? We did not create the Industrial Revolution, Lacklan. We did not create climate change or overpopulation, we are just trying to navigate the safest path out of it. Why do you have such difficulty understanding that?”

  “Because your ‘safest path’ means that you destroy the one thing about a human being that is sacred! Their minds! The freedom of their minds!”

  Beta burst out laughing. “Who are you,” he said. “Who are you to decide what is and is not sacred in a human being?”

  “Who am I? I’ll tell you who I am, you arrogant son of a bitch! I am a human being! I am a human being with a free mind and free will! Now you tell me something. Who are you to decide that you have the right to override one single person’s free will? Who are you to decide that you have the right to control and manipulate people’s minds, desires and behavior without their consent? Who the fuck are you to decide who gets to live, who dies and who becomes one of your compliant fucking slaves?”

  He leaned forward, smiling. “I am the man who can.”

  Ben raised his hand to silence us both. “We are not going to have this conversation with you, Lacklan. We are way past the point where any of it can be stopped or changed.”

  “Bullshit. You know as well as I do that your project with Intelligent Imaging Consultants is sunk.”

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. After a moment he said, “What will it take to make you stop? I have given up trying to persuade you to join us. So just tell me this: you know we can hurt you a lot more than you can hurt us. So what will it take to make you stop?”

  I stared at him for a long moment with no expression on my face at all. Finally I shook my head and looked away. “Less than you might think, Ben.”

  He spread his hands and made a question with his face.

  I went on. “I should have realized a lot sooner. You are Alpha, aren’t you? These clowns…” I gestured at Beta, Delta and Epsilon. “These are the front men, but the real power was always with you. Maybe if I had realized that sooner…”

  “What will it take, Lacklan?”

  “The knowledge, the certainty, that you will not come after me or my family.”

  “You had that assurance and it was you who broke the deal.”

  I laughed. “How long would it have taken before you did come after me? A year? Two? Ten?” He didn’t answer so I went on, “And something else. An assurance, a certainty, that you will abandon the plan to manipulate people’s minds and rob them of their free will.”

  He shook his head. “We gave you and Marni the chance to make a difference there, and again you betrayed us. You pretend to sit in moral judgment on us, yet it is always you betraying, murdering, lying. Tell me, how could we ever give you that kind of assurance and certainty”

  I sighed. “You couldn’t. Ever.”

  “So?”

  “So that’s why you have to die.”

  I shot Fenninger first, right between the eyes. He didn’t move. He just sat there, looking astonished. Delta was next. He was getting to his feet, so the round went through his throat and crashed out through the back of his neck, destroying his vertebrae. Beta was half way across the room, running for the door. I put two rounds through his chest. He spun and staggered and fell, just like the stock market was going to do in the morning.

  Ben was on his feet, aiming at me with a Colt .45 automatic. He didn’t shoot. I looked him in the eye. “Why?” I asked him. “Why do you alwa
ys hold back? Why have you always stopped short of killing me? Why did you come here tonight, with them, knowing I must, surely, kill you?”

  He didn’t answer at first. He just watched my face with an indecipherable expression on his own. There was pain in it, frustration and confusion. Finally he said, “You knew I would, so you must know why.”

  I shot him in the chest twice. He winced, then frowned down at the bleeding holes. He looked at me, still frowning, astonished, betrayed! Blood oozed from his mouth. He reached out for the sofa, as though to steady himself, but his eyes rolled back in his head and he keeled over onto the floor.

  I stood, filmed the scene on my cell phone, sent the file to Gantrie and left.

  * * *

  The reception area smelled of bleach. Maria was sitting in one of the armchairs, watching the TV. She looked up as I came in. She didn’t say anything, just watched me. I took my kit bag, with the Emperor and the magnetic license plates, to my room and stashed everything under the bed, then came back and stood looking at the TV screen. There was a young, dark-haired woman holding a microphone. Behind her red and blue lights were flashing in a slow, steady rhythm. The white gate to Fenninger’s house had been rolled all the way back so that the ambulances and patrol cars could get in and out. Cops in short-sleeved uniforms were standing around, talking to each other, looking bored. The yellow police tape swayed slightly in the pre-dawn breeze. It all looked very banal and dull, strangely at odds with what the reporter was saying.

  “…the detective I spoke to called it the most bizarre murder since Sharon Tate, but other people are saying that that doesn’t even begin to describe it. Marc, what started out as rumors only an hour ago have become a stark and shocking reality. I can confirm that Aaron Fenninger has been found, shot dead, with a single gunshot wound to the head, in his own living room…”

  A male voice broke in and the girl pressed her ear, trying to listen. “Jade, that is shocking, can you confirm whether he was alone? Was there anybody with him?”

  Jade nodded several times. “Marc, I can now confirm that Aaron Fenninger was not alone. There were other bodies found at the scene. And this is what makes this crime such a shocking one, and comparable in some ways to Sharon Tate. Not that the murder of a household name like Aaron Fenninger is not devastating in itself, but the people who were with him were none other than William Fencer, the IT magnate, CEO and founder of the PrimarySoft Corporation and widely reputed to be the single richest man in the world…”

  “Jade, forgive me interrupting again but I think a lot of our viewers will be reeling with the shock of this news. Are you saying—can you confirm for us—that Aaron Fenninger and William Fencer were both found, together, in Fenninger’s living room, at one AM this morning, both shot and murdered?”

  Jade was nodding again. “That is correct. That is correct, Marc. William Fencer had been shot, twice, through the chest. But it does not end there. Also in the room, also shot to death, was Myron Levy, creator, some would say legendary creator, of the social media phenomenon LetsConnect, who was killed by a single gunshot wound to the throat. Now it’s worth stressing, Marc…”

  “Jade, I’m sorry to keep butting in, but this is absolutely shattering news and I just want to be sure, for our viewers, that I am getting it straight. Was there anybody else in the room with Fenninger, Fencer and Levy?”

  “There are unconfirmed reports, Marc, that there was a fourth man, but it is all rather confusing because we are also hearing rumors that Aaron Fenninger was in fact hosting a party tonight at his home here in Malibu, and that there were a number of stars and celebrities here. It was apparently an informal gathering of friends and we are hearing that the fourth body might be that of one of those guests, celebrity names are being bandied about, but none of them has been confirmed. So, at this stage, all we know is that there may have been a fourth body. If there was a gathering, by the time we got here all of the guests had left, and the police are being extremely um, shall we say cautious with the information they are handing out.”

  “Jade, any clue as to who might have carried out this devastating, horrific attack?”

  Maria turned and looked at me. I ignored her. I was interested in what Jade would say.

  “Again, unconfirmed as yet, Marc, but there are unofficial claims that this might have been the work of the so called FMW, or Free Mind Warriors, who claimed responsibility recently for the bombing of the UBC building in New York and the murder of the partners at Intelligent Imaging Consultants in downtown L.A. just the other night.”

  Maria switched off the TV. “Is that your story? You are a terrorist?”

  I thought of Jim, shook my head and smiled. “No. I am a destroyer, not a terrorist.”

  “Did you kill those men?”

  “You don’t want to know. Don’t ask.”

  “They say this will damage the economy. The stock market will crash. PrimarySoft and LetsConnect could go bankrupt…”

  I shook my head. “That would be too good to be true. That’s not going to happen. Somebody will step into their shoes and take over. I’m going to have a shower.”

  I crossed the patio and went into my room, stripping my clothes as I went. I was suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. I turned on the shower, but before I stepped in I called Marni’s secure number. She picked up after the third ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Are you watching the news?”

  “Lacklan! No… Should I be?”

  “Yes. Call Gibbons, tell him to watch too. Later today there will be a lot of footage going viral on the net. A man will contact you. He has all that footage. I can’t stay on much longer. Listen carefully. I need you to pay attention. Omega 1 has been annihilated. That’s Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta and Epsilon. Right now Omega is a headless chicken. You and Gibbons need to seize this, but Marni, be careful with Gibbons. He could become another Alpha.”

  “Jesus… Are you OK?”

  I didn’t answer for a moment, then I said, “Yeah, I’m OK. Now listen to me. You heard about UBC.”

  “Yes. Was that you?”

  “No. A Stanford professor is going to contact you and Gibbons. Jim Redbeard. He could be helpful to you.”

  “Lacklan, I thought you were through with all this…”

  “I’m doing what I need to do to end it.”

  I hung up and went to the shower. I stood under the hot water for ten minutes, trying not to think. Trying not to relive the events of the night but they were there, living, burning ghosts in my mind. Finally I stepped out and started drying myself. I poured myself a whisky and sat on the bed to drink it. My eyes were closing. I wondered if I was drunk.

  There was a knock on the door and before I could answer Maria stepped in. She looked worried. “A couple of detectives are here to see you.”

  I frowned, pulled on some jeans and a shirt and crossed the patio to the reception. There were two plainclothes cops there. The older one was wearing a cheap, off the peg suit with vinyl shoes and a polyester tie. His partner was ten years younger and wearing jeans and a polo shirt. They both showed me their badges and the older one spoke. “My name is Detective Fernandez, this is Detective Olsen. Is that your ’68 Mustang parked outside, sir?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, why?”

  “Would you mind telling us your name, please?”

  I hesitated a moment. “Walker. Lacklan Walker. You want to tell me what this is about?”

  Fernandez nodded while Olsen made a note. “You from L.A.?”

  I sighed noisily. “I’m going to answer your question, Detective. Then you are going to tell me why you are asking, or this conversation is finished. I’m from Boston. Now, why the questions?”

  “A car matching yours was involved in a homicide earlier tonight.”

  I shook my head. “My car was not involved in any homicide tonight, Detective Fernandez. Did your witness get a license plate?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Have you compared it with mine?”

>   “Not yet, I thought I’d like to talk to you first.”

  “Well, now you’ve talked to me, how about we have a look at the license plate and then you let me sleep?”

  Fernandez turned to Olsen. “Have a look, run’em.” Olsen left and Fernandez asked me, “You mind telling me what you’re doing in L.A., Mr. Walker?”

  “Minding my own business, Detective. And that’s exactly what it is, my business and none of yours.”

  His eyes narrowed and grew hostile. “Where were you tonight between ten and one?”

  “I just told you it’s none of your goddamn business…”

  Maria put a hand on my arm. “Lacklan, you are only going to make things worse with that attitude. The detectives are not interested in your personal life. They are investigating a homicide…” She turned to Fernandez. “He was with me, Detective. He came in…” She turned to Don, who was leaning on the reception desk, watching us. She said, “What? Half past ten? It was after the police left…”

  He nodded. “About ten thirty.”

  Maria turned back to Fernandez. “He came in and we went to his room. We stayed together in the room until half an hour ago.”

  He glanced over at Don, who nodded his confirmation. Then he scowled at me. “Couldn’t you have told me that?”

  “So you could go and tell my wife?”

  “Ah! Gimme a break!”

  Olsen came in. “Plates don’t match, Al. Car’s registered to Lacklan Walker of Weston, Massachusetts. Hood’s cold. Car ain’t been used in a while.”

  Fernandez stared at me a long time. All his instincts were telling him that something was wrong, but he hadn’t a shred of evidence other than his gut. He turned to Maria.

  “You had a problem earlier, you said?”

  She shrugged. “Some gang members came in, threatening us, wanting protection or something.” She grinned over at Don, like she was real proud of him. “Don was real brave.”

  Fernandez looked at me. “Where were you?”

  “Out.”

  “Out where?”

 

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