Terry and the others stared them down. Rowley couldn't hold their gaze anymore, but Parks didn't blink.
"I still don't see why that's a problem," said Terry. He glanced at Owen for help, but Owen was suddenly scowling, staring at the floor.
"Your machine created her?" Chris said.
"No, no," Parks corrected. "That's impossible. But whatever minute detail caused her to be able to exist now, the implications are the same. She is not supposed to be here. She can't exist in the reality we know."
Terry's heart fell as he began to understand. "So if we do this-if we go back to your machine and enter the code or whatever, and manage to bring everyone back ... ?"
"Then Mae will cease to exist," Parks summed it up with cold, unemotional candor.
Rowley looked away, pools reflecting in his bright eyes.
Owen shook his head in futility. Trisha was downcast. Even Chris seemed to believe it was true.
But Terry looked at everyone in the room as if they'd sprouted second heads.
"This is ... " he faltered. "I mean ... we can't just accept ... It's not ... It can't be true!"
"It is," Parks replied calmly.
"It's not fair! She didn't ask for this," Terry said.
Rowley spoke without looking up. "No, she didn't."
"She's real! She's as real as anyone," Terry protested.
Parks began to argue, "It's not that she isn't real-"
"She has a heart! And a brain ... and lungs ... and ..... Terry ran out of words to say. "She has a soul!"
Chris moved closer and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "If she has an immortal soul, then nothing we do could possibly change that."
"But ... "
"I'm sorry," said Parks. "But as cruel and unfair and painful as it is, it comes down to this: it's ten billion people ... or her."
Terry threw up his hands and turned away from everyone, futility, frustration, resignation, and so much more fuming off of him. "She didn't ask for this," he quietly repeated.
So Mae really was at the heart of this whole thing, after all. In a manner of speaking.
What a mad world to live in when such choices were forced upon them.
Chris felt Terry's anger, Trisha's sadness, Owen's sense of inevitability. He could sense it all, pouring off them and filling the room.
But time was running out.
"So what do you want to do?" he said, turning to them and ignoring the scientists. "Save the girl, or save the world?"
"Of course we have to save the world!" Terry shouted angrily. "We have no choice!"
"I agree," replied Chris. "But this is one decision I can't make for all of us. I need to know where you all stand, because if we commit to this, then there's no room for hesitation when the time comes. We go all the way, and we do it now, or we don't go at all."
No one was eager to speak first, but Trisha finally did. "I say go," she said quietly, her face pained and her voice filled with regret.
Owen sighed again. "Go," he said.
Everyone turned to Terry, who shook his head angrily. "We go. We go kill our friend and save the world"
"You're not killing her, exactly," offered Parks. "Think of it more like ... you're putting her into the hands of fate."
"No, not fate," said Terry slowly, a new light flickering in his eyes. "Faith. We've spent days wandering the Earth, secretly afraid that we were alone, and would live out the rest of our lives alone. But we're not. And neither is Mae."
"We're scientists, sir," replied Parks, frowning. "We live on fact, not belief."
"Then you should look up at the stars sometime," said Chris, drawing strength from Terry's words. "It might make you change your mind. Think about this.... The four of us survived the crash of the Ares. We pulled Terry and Owen out of the collapsed building, and neither of them was seriously hurt. A jet ski appeared out of nowhere just when we needed it at the lighthouse. I found Mae without looking that hard when the hospital was on fire, even though she was trapped and unable to escape on her own. We got away from the bridge in New Orleans, we overpowered Roston's men at the fairgrounds, we broke free at the oil refinery, and we rescued Terry from a military unit with greater numbers and weapons.
"Those are facts. Is it random chance that luck swung our way so many times? Or was it not luck at all, and someone out there has our backs?"
Terry nodded knowingly. "If we are truly alone, then nothing matters. At all. If our existence is about being tossed around between chaos and chance, then why should we bother doing anything? Who cares if ten billion people are gone? It's just survival of the fittest-the latest `accident' from a universe that's out of control.
"But if we're not alone ... if we have help in all this, then everything we do serves a greater purpose."
There was a sound of screeching tires outside, in the distance.
"Our time is up," said Rowley.
Chris pulled out his pistol again. "You led us into a trap?"
"No!" said Parks. `'We didn't!"
`But Roston catching up with us was not unexpected," said Rowley. "This man has access to all the technology in the entire world; it was only a matter of time before he found us. We'd hoped it would take him a little longer.... "
"Then why did you even rescue us?!" cried Terry, who was on his feet now as well, despite his injury.
"Either way, you were going to be captured," explained Parks. "You can't outrun Roston forever. But this way, we could arm you with enough knowledge to defeat him at his own game."
Chris felt his trigger finger wanting to pull so badly, wanting to kill these two treacherous men where they stood. But he suppressed it.
He also knew the four of them should be running right now.
"Like what?" he asked.
"The fail-safe code," replied Parks. "He doesn't know about it."
"This is your one advantage," explained Rowley, leaning forward now, urgency in his voice. `And it's the only thing we have to give you. The way to get everyone back is to input that fail-safe code before the entire machine is destroyed."
All right, let's move, people, before they block the exits!" said Chris. He turned to Owen, but gestured toward Terry. "Carry him if you have to."
Owen scooped up his friend in his thick arms. Trisha led the way, with Chris bringing up the rear.
They burst through a rear door and right into the middle of a semicircle of Roston's men.
A short march around to the front of the building later and they came face-to-face with Major Griffin.
"Put them in the back. With her."
Chris and the others were shepherded into the back of an armored personnel carrier, where Mae was waiting, alone.
"Mae!" Terry cried. "Did they hurt you? Are you all right?"
"Dandy," she replied. "That one slapped me around a little. Nothin' new."
She had a giant bruise on her forehead and a few scrapes, but nothing any worse. Chris couldn't escape the feeling that she was different somehow, now that they knew who she really was. He wondered if they should tell her about her father, Rowley. She had a right to know the truth, didn't she?
But then that would lead to questions of her connection to the machine....
"Gentlemen!" called out Griffin's voice from outside the vehicle.
The five of them fell silent, listening and watching.
From behind another jeep came Rowley and Parks. Griffin met them.
"You know, for geniuses you're awfully dumb," said Griffin. "Did you really think we couldn't find you? What did you hope to accomplish with this? Still, there was no harm done. We have them."
Rowley turned and looked at the Humvee, where Chris and the others watched. His eyes seemed to be searching the tinted glass, trying to catch a glimpse of Mae. His daughter.
"Look at me!" Griffin shouted.
Rowley reluctantly met Griffin's eyes, but he did not appear anxious or concerned. He was the picture of calm. Parks was looking at his captor and bouncing up and down on the ball
s of his feet.
Another soldier approached, carrying a pair of very large duffel bags. Griffin took the bags from him and handed one to Parks and one to Rowley "Colonel Roston asked me to give you this."
Parks nervously opened his bag, and pulled out a huge wad of green bills.
"Take your earnings and go find a safe place to ride this out," said Griffin.
"That's it?" asked Parks. "I thought you were going to kill us."
Griffin looked at him like he was stupid. "What would be served by killing you? We're not monsters. We're soldiers, and we have a mission to complete."
Parks took the hint and started walking away, but Rowley hesitated.
"Why would you let us go?" asked Rowley, glancing again at the jeep.
"Because we will need your expertise again," said Griffin. "The machine will be used to bring everyone back when we're done with our work. How could we do that without you?"
Rowley, apparently satisfied, nodded and turned away.
When both men were walking away, Griffin pulled out his pistol and shot them both.
Chris watched in horror as their bodies crashed to the ground. Trisha placed her hands over Mae's eyes, pulling the girl close, though Mae probably had no idea why.
Griffin stepped up to the bodies and spit on them. "On second thought ... we'll figure it out."
The personnel carrier entered the outer gates of Roston's main base, which had been erected in the parking lot at Rice Stadium. From there, Chris and the others were taken to the big tent near the stadium's entrance and ushered just inside, where they waited side by side.
Chris took a long look around the jam-packed tent. There were computer terminals and radio stations scattered about, lots of vertical maps hanging with notes and circles drawn on them, and guns of all kinds stacked in between everything else. Tables filled the empty spaces, with stacks of paperwork and more maps covering every inch.
At the heart of it all was a modest desk, behind which sat the only man here who was not wearing a ski mask. The man looked up just as a group of seven soldiers walked between the desk and Chris' people. The soldiers paused for a moment, and Chris felt an unspoken threat from their body language, before they continued on.
"You probably don't recognize those men, Captain Burke, but they certainly recognize you," said the man behind the desk after they'd passed by. "They're the ones you overpowered at the fairgrounds and left tied up in the Wal-Mart ladies' room."
Chris turned for another look, and his eyes slid down to their wrists, which still had red, raw lines around them from the zip-ties that had cut into their flesh just a couple of days prior. He felt a rush of satisfaction at the sight.
Roston rose from his desk and walked around it. He looked upon Chris and his friends not entirely unkindly, but radiated authority with his every gesture. Chris approximated Roston's age to be around fiftyfive, and the colonel was in excellent physical condition. His crew cut was perfectly trimmed, his shoes were buffed, and his movements full of energy.
But he had tired eyes.
"It seems you were correct," said Roston, approaching Burke. "Our next meeting is face-to-face."
Chris eyed him warily. "So it is."
A radio attached to Roston's hip chirped. "Yes?" he said, putting it before his mouth.
Roston had the volume turned down so low on the device that Chris couldn't make out what was being said.
All right, seal that area off and we'll deal with it later," he said in reply. He replaced the radio on his belt and looked at Chris. "I really wish you'd taken my advice and left town," he said, devoid of warmth. "But since you didn't, and because you somehow overcame every obstacle I've placed in your path ... I decided to let you live. In exchange for that, I want the chance to explain why I'm doing this."
Chris took a step toward Roston, and three guards lifted their rifles. Roston waved at them and they eased just a fraction.
"Why is it important to you that I understand your reasons?" Chris asked.
"Because I think you'll find we're very much alike," replied Roston. "I respect you a great deal for your achievements on behalf of mankind, as well as your efforts during the war. And I would like the chance to gain your respect in return. History is written by the survivors, you know. You and your people have proven yourselves to be survivors. So I want to ensure that history records the truth about what I've done. And frankly, I could use your help."
Chris frowned for a moment, considering this. He didn't get the sense that Roston was putting him on, but he wasn't inclined in the slightest to give this man any respect, no matter what he said. Still, each moment the man talked was another that they lived. Maybe he or Owen or Trisha could figure a way out of this mess....
"We don't seem to have any options, Colonel. So go ahead, explain yourself."
"I need you to understand, Captain ... I'm not a monster, or a villain, or a tyrant. I'm a soldier. Just like you."
Roston crossed his arms and leaned back against the desk, and Chris almost felt like he was about to exchange war stories with an old buddy. And it was true; Roston didn't strike him as an evil mastermind. There was something so disarmingly authoritative and intelligent about this man that Chris couldn't help but listen to his words.
"You know what it's like to ride fire in battle," said Roston. "You've watched good men fall around you for causes they don't believe in. You know, Captain, as I do, that many of the things we're ordered to do are done solely to fulfill the self-satisfying agendas or stroke the egos of men who've never risked blood on a battlefield. Such men don't deserve such power just because they've been given the right title. It isn't the men who declare war who have to wage it. Only those of us who live in the field truly understand the realities of power."
Chris crossed his own arms and listened.
"You don't disagree, do you?" asked Roston in a voice that suggested he already knew the answer.
"No, I don't," replied Chris. "But I still think anyone who's done what you've done has to be a lunatic."
Roston's eyes flared, just for a second, and he took a half step toward Chris before composing himself.
"Toward the end of the war," he continued, "I was handed a mission of real importance. Intelligence had received verified reports of an enemy conclave entrenched in a small rural village. Somewhere in this town, well hidden and fortified, this enemy cell was hiding something that had been stolen from a U.S. base. Something that no one was supposed to know existed. A highly advanced nuclear cluster bomb."
A cluster nuke?" Chris said. He was stunned. The technology wasn't new, but it had been forbidden years ago. Treaties had been signed between more than one hundred nations, and the U.S. was one of them. Chris had never heard anything about the existence of a cluster nuke during the war....
"Yes. It was real, but it had been built in violation of international law. So we were given very strict instructions. There was no way that that bomb could be allowed to leave the village that hid it. It was too powerful, too volatile, and its strategic importance to the U.S. military was deemed a greater priority than any living person; it had to be either retrieved, or safely dismantled. But first it had to be found.
"My orders were absolute. The village was to be razed. No stone unturned, no structure left standing, no life spared. The reasoning was, if they lived in that village, then they could know of the bomb's existence, and Washington would not allow knowledge of the cluster nuke to leak out. It was hidden somewhere in that village, and we were to find it no matter the cost. I was given command over a unit of more than five hundred men and women, wielding hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth of military hardware. Loyal soldiers who would do anything that was asked of them. The kind of people needed for a search-and-destroy mission of this magnitude.
"We followed orders. We did what they told us to do. In less than four hours' time, one very cold, snowy night in February, we wiped that village from the map. We killed every person who called it home. Two days later, w
hen we had still found no sign of the bomb, the call came in from D.C.
"The cluster nuke had been moved by the enemy, the night before we deployed. My unit and I had slaughtered more than/Our thousand innocents ... for absolutely nothing."
Chris swallowed, suddenly finding it very hard to stand under Roston's resolute gaze.
"The bomb was found a few days later at an enemy base," Roston went on. "It was dismantled and all evidence of it buried or destroyed. The cluster nuke was never detonated. But it destroyed thousands of lives.
"My men and I-we haven't slept peacefully in the seven years since that night. I close my eyes, and I see the families huddled together in their homes, trying to stay warm.... I see the parents pleading, bargaining for the lives of their children.... I hear the screaming and the weeping.... I feel the cold of the snow that pelted my face, the heat pouring from the fires we used to burn every building to the ground.... I smell the smoke, I taste the tears, I feel the blackness that swallowed my soul the night I extinguished so many lives."
He closed the gap between himself and Chris, until he was only inches from Chris' face.
"This is not insanity, Burke! I've charted this course of action, and I'm committed to it to the end!"
Calmer, Roston stepped back and let out a steady breath. "The world was a dire place, and determined to annihilate itself. I'm creating a world where senseless atrocities ordered by men with unchecked power no longer will occur. Where there will be no men with unchecked power. I'm taking that power from them, and-"
`And keeping it for yourself?" Chris asked, his arms still crossed.
"If that's what it takes. But this isn't about power."
"Then what is it about? What do you gain from removing every man, woman, and child from the face of the Earth-and then later bringing them back?"
"Peace," Roston replied. "With no one to stand in our way, we can do what no one has ever been able to do before: centralize all sources of power from those who would surely abuse them. Military arsenals. Weapons of mass destruction. Money and resources!
"Our goal couldn't be simplier, despite the extraordinary lengths we've taken to accomplish it. It's the ultimate path to success: remove all roadblocks. At one point after we took the people away, the animals became a nuisance, roaming freely through the cities, buildings and roads. With the people gone, the animals began to take over everything. We had no choice but to remove them, too. But it isn't permanent.
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