Chase listened for any sounds from above. A few people remained in the command center. The rest were in their rooms or in the meeting room. Amos had called some of them together to pray, or something. After the news about the RACE headquarters moving in up top, Mel had gone off without saying another word to Chase.
The rumble of some old-fashioned vehicles on the street sounded from the vicinity of the museum. Work trucks. “We can’t leave yet,” Chase said. “Still some crew up there, I think. It’ll be quitting time soon.”
Kirel appeared and cleared his throat.
“Do you need something?” Chase asked.
“Let me go with you.”
“No way,” Switchblade said. “Amos ain’t letting nobody else out of here. Besides, you’d just slow us down.”
“Look, you’ve got too many people down here. Rations are limited. I’ve got family in the EU, and I’m going to suffocate if I don’t get out here.”
Switchblade smirked. “You’ll get used to it, man. In a year or two.”
Windsong circled Kirel. Their eyes seemed to lock. “Actually, I could use some help when I get to the EU.”
“You want to take him with you?” Chase asked.
“Sure, why not?” She smiled at Kirel.
He smiled back. “You won’t be sorry.”
“I’d better not be. If I find out you’ve got some other motive, you’re out the hatch without a parachute.”
“I just want out of here.” Kirel took a breath and blinked his soupy eyes. “And I want to see my mother. She lives near Frankfurt.”
Chase prompted the four S’s and the exoself ran a check on Kirel. German-born, his mother lived in a small community near Frankfurt. Chase searched the woman’s data and found she was a supporter operating a secret house that offered temporary shelter to believers. Kirel was telling the truth. So what was Chase worried about? Let the guy go and they’d have one less human to feed and clothe.
“Look, I have to talk to someone before we go,” Chase said.
“Uh-huh, I bet you do,” Switchblade said.
Chase stared him down, then caught Kirel’s stare. “And you need to tell Amos what you’re planning to do.”
The man shrugged. “I’ll go talk to him.”
Chase left the group and headed for Mel’s room. He couldn’t leave like this—not with her mad at him.
She pulled the door open as soon as he knocked.
“Are you ready to go?” she asked.
“I’m not going anywhere until we talk.”
“I’m listening. With my little human pea-brain.”
“Oh, come on, you know that is not what I think of you. You’re the smartest, kindest, gentlest, softest, sweetest—”
“Stop it.” She moved away from the door, allowing Chase to enter the room. “You said some dumb things last night.”
“I’m sorry. Again. There’s this megalomaniac inside me missing his celebrity status, and this transhuman who’s not any less prideful, and then there’s me, stuck in the middle. And all I want is to be sitting on a beach somewhere holding your hand and watching the waves. Is that too much to ask?’
“It sounds wonderful.” Tears filled her eyes. “But yeah, it’s too much to ask.”
Chase put his arms around her as she sobbed.
“Please don’t go, Chase. I’m not mad because you say stupid things. You’ve always done that. I’m mad because I don’t want you to leave with that blond pilot. You’re gonna end up taking off with her. Or you’ll end up in prison, or back at the Helgen. Or dead.”
He held her tight and kissed her hair. “I’ve been dead before. Didn’t slow me down for long.”
She pulled away, laughed, and smacked his arm. “Next time they’re not going to wake you up. You act like you’re a cat with nine lives. I think two is probably your limit.”
He pulled her close, kissed her, and then pressed her head against his chest. “If I have any trouble—which I’m not expecting—I’ll call you. Just give me a VPad to take with me. Melody, when you get up in the morning, I’ll be in the dining hall. I’ll save you a seat.”
“OK, boss.” Her voice trembled. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He pulled himself away from her and left the room. He couldn’t stay any longer without changing his mind about going. The door shut behind him. The hearing enhancer, still active to listen for up-top activity, carried the words Mel whispered: “Father, protect him. Heaven help me, I love the man.”
He stared at the door, wishing he could steal her out of this place and find that perfect beach where no one else in the world existed. “Someday.”
He faced the hallway to the command center and sparked the exoself to begin powering the first group of drones.
When he arrived, he found Kirel hoisting on a backpack. Switchblade tucked a switchblade, of course, into the waistband of his jeans. Windsong cocked a pistol.
Amos stood to the side of the crew. “Kirel has my approval to go, Chase. Thank you for telling him that was a requirement.”
Chase gave a quick nod, but set his attention on Windsong. “Where’d you get the gun?”
“I always have a gun on me. I even sleep with it.” She stuck the small weapon in a holster under her shirt.
“How many times have you used it?”
“What difference does that make? I use it when I need to. This might be one of those nights. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Chase lifted his brow at Switchblade.
The knife-wielding bodyguard laughed. “I’d say it’s likely we’ll need more than a transhuman to get us through the night.”
“More than weapons, more than superpowers, you all are going to need prayer,” Amos said. “That’s what I’ll be doing while you’re gone. And others, too. We’ll pray until you return.”
Melody’s sweet simple prayer was all Chase needed. He smiled.
“You gone and made up for whatever stupid thing you said?” Switchblade asked him. “You’re grinning like you just did some making up.”
He lost the smile. “Mind your own business.”
Chase’s mother drew near and put her arms around him. “I know you have to do this,” she said. “But you better be careful. It’s nearly winter and you’re just wearing a light jacket? What if you get lost in the woods?”
“It’s only autumn. And I can’t get lost in the woods or anywhere else. It’s impossible.” He hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry. Everything will go according to plan. Switchblade and I will be back in time for breakfast.”
She nodded and backed away, her arms folded across her stomach.
Chase listened for any remaining sounds of activity above their heads. Nothing. “Let’s go,” he said. “We’ve got a long walk.”
“What about cameras in town?” Amos asked. “The Feds are looking for Kirel and Windsong.”
“I can play tricks with the cameras long enough for us to get out of sight.”
“What about local police?” Mom asked.
“If we meet up with local authorities, I’ll create a diversion. I accidentally caused a power outage—I can make something happen on purpose.”
Before any more questions or problems or potential disasters could be discussed, Switchblade unlocked the door to the staircase, and Chase followed him, Kirel and Windsong behind him. Up and up they climbed, then across until they arrived at the hole covered from the other side by the painting. The beautiful Blue Sky Field. The place of dreams.
Of persecution. Chase shuddered as he climbed through.
When all four of them were on the other side, Switchblade pushed the painting back into place. Chase put his hand against the green hillside and closed his eyes. “Protect them,” he said.
“You praying, Charlie?”
He opened his eyes. “Even a transhuman can say a prayer once in a while.”
“All right by me.” Switchblade headed for the door in the back room of the museum. He carried a laserlight, but kept it at half p
ower. He and the others couldn’t see what Chase saw. The demolition crew had knocked out an interior wall. Boards and chunks of broken plaster leaned against the door.
The beam from the laserlight found the blocked exit before Chase could warn the others.
“Can you move this stuff out of our way, Charlie? Or should we just go on out the front door?”
“I can move it, but tomorrow somebody would notice.”
“We could go back through and take the exit behind the refuse bin,” Switchblade said.
Chase breathed in and checked on the departing drones. “We’d lose too much time.”
Windsong groaned. “OK boys, we’re going out the front door. Nobody’s around. The cameras are off. Right, Chase?”
“Yeah, they’re off.” He headed for the front of the building. “Let’s go. Switchblade, turn off that light. All of you stay close behind me.”
After stumbling over more remodeling rubble, the group reached the glass front of the old museum. The entry was wide open. In fact, the door was off the hinges and tossed aside. They stepped onto the sidewalk, which was littered with more debris.
“Not a very tidy demolition crew,” Chase said.
“Good thing for us,” Windsong replied. “Didn’t even have to break down the door.”
Switchblade took a deep breath and blew it out. “Fresh air. How long has it been?”
“Are you serious?” Chase asked. “You’re up here as much as you’re down there.”
“Yeah, well it’s not enough. Long walk in the country—that’s what I need.”
Kirel followed close behind Chase. “So, we just walk to the drone plant and wait for the plane? And the drones will be gone when we get there?” he asked. “Is that the plan?”
Chase nodded. “The third group of drones should be flying over our heads any minute. By the time we get there, the last group will be headed south.”
Soon the silent but well-lit little machines stretched in a line across the dark sky. From a hundred yards down the quiet street, Chase heard voices.
“Look at the drones.” The male voice had a heavy French accent. “Never seen them fly in so large a group, and so high.”
A woman responded, her accent more New York than Quebec. “Drill of some kind. Or maybe they got orders from the military. Saw that once before. Big order comes in and they fly them out in groups.”
Chase breathed a sigh. The plan was working. They passed the last bricked street and the sign declaring Bienvenue à Herouxville. A two-mile stretch of country road would take them to the plant. But they didn’t dare take it.
“This way,” Chase said. He headed for a field. A green hillside. Or at least it would have been green if the approaching winter hadn’t deadened it to brown. Half a moon offered little light. His traveling companions couldn’t appreciate what Chase could see in the dark. He pictured the painting back at the museum. Maybe this was where the artist labored with his easel and his palette. Maybe this was the place of Chase’s dreams.
A truck roared up the road and slowed as it passed the travelers. A single drone flew low overhead. The field. The truck. The drone. A little too much of the dream in this reality.
“Hurry,” Chase said. “The faster we get out of here, the better.”
24
Another solitary drone left the plant after the third group had departed like a gaggle of geese headed south for the winter. Always a straggler or two with geese. But drones? Why were two left to catch up on their own?
Flying south would be good. Cold air crept into Chase’s black jacket and he pulled it tight and snapped it shut at the neck. How long until snow changed the color of the fields around Herouxville? Maybe a harsh winter would slow down the remodeling project at the museum.
Checking the flight orders, Chase found that two drones fresh off the assembly line had piggybacked on the orders and joined the others when their systems booted. Five others had not responded and were still in the plant’s determination area. Even the drones were thinking for themselves.
Switchblade interrupted the information passing between the plant and the exoself. “Everything on schedule, Charlie? Other group flying out yet?”
A last bit of information flooded in before Chase could answer. “The ones set to load onto the jet—they just lined themselves up. The rest followed the orders to fly out.”
“That’s what you planned, right? What about the next mass exodus? Is it ready?”
“Yeah. We won’t see them. Different flight pattern.”
The group had been over a mile. Some of it uphill and through a wooded area that proved hard for everyone but Chase to maneuver in the dark. Less than a mile to go.
Windsong spoke from behind Chase. “How do you know the whole security force fell for your orders to take the night off? Surely they’re not dumb enough to leave the place unguarded. And what about satellite images?”
“I put up a satellite block—used the WR’s own technology against them. As for the humans in charge of security, they won’t be too concerned. The cyber-guards can handle it without them.” Chase smiled at the sudden lack of movement behind him. “Didn’t I mention the eight cyber-guards?” He faced his cohorts.
“No, robot, you did not mention that,” Switchblade said.
Chase moved in and got as close to the man’s face as he could, considering Switchblade was a head taller. “What did I tell you about calling me that?”
Switchblade stared down at him. “Deal with it. What are we supposed to do with eight cyber-guards?”
“Do you think I’m capable of moving hundreds of drones but not able to shut down a few guards?”
Windsong let out a sigh. “You scared us, Chase. So you’re gonna shut them down before we get there. Right?”
“Of course. They’ll reset in four hours and nobody will know the difference. I’m just waiting for the last of the evening shift to leave.”
“Evening shift?” Kirel joined the panic. “You mean there are still people at the plant? And they’re just watching all their drones fly off? Don’t you think they’ll get suspicious?”
“People, for the most part, let computers run the show. We’re using that to our advantage.” Chase was twenty feet ahead of his followers now, and they started walking forward again.
“So, how do you do it?” Kirel asked. “How do you get the whole world to do whatever you tell it to do?”
“Not the whole world,” Chase said. “Just certain government entities.”
“But how do you do it?”
“You’re asking the wrong person. In the past few months I’ve learned to connect and to manipulate, but understanding is what I’m missing. In the last few days, the exoself has done things without my instructions. And I don’t know why.”
Switchblade’s voice sounded close behind Chase. “’Cause God planned it that way, Charlie. Seems to me God and that exoself are on the same page.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t clear up anything for me.” Chase glanced at the man then slowed until they walked side by side.
“You ought to give the thing a name.”
Chase laughed. “It’s not alive. At least I hope not. Sometimes I think it will take over completely and there will be no more me.”
“I agree.” Windsong joined in. “Name the thing. Might make you feel better. Like you’re in control of it.”
“This is ridiculous,” Kirel said. “I just wanted to know how it works. I don’t want to make friends with it. It scares me to death to think about what it can do. What it might do. We can’t let it become the routine—putting something like that in people. Imagine the chaos if thousands of people were manipulating hundreds of programs around the world. It’s got to stop.”
Chase slowed his pace a little and rubbed the back of his neck. The exoself sparked the code—32-7—but not in a threatening way. Just a warning.
Regarding Kirel.
“I can’t say I disagree with you,” Chase told him. “But it’s part of who I am n
ow. Is that OK with you?”
“Uh, yeah. I know you didn’t start this. You’re just a victim. But maybe it would help the scientists realize how dangerous the whole thing is if they knew that it’s thinking for itself. That it’s able to subvert the plans of the leadership that authorized it.”
Switchblade set his face inches from Kirel’s. The exoself triggered yet another subtle warning.
“Enough talk from you,” Switchblade said to Kirel. “Let’s get ourselves to the plant and get this night over with. Sooner you take off for the EU the better. Least as far as I’m concerned.”
“I was just stating my opinion. When did you decide to stand up for the guy you’ve been referring to as a robot? You know he’s an accident waiting to happen. Admit it.”
Chase had to end this before Switchblade lost his temper. “I thought of a name for the exoself.”
“Great,” Windsong said. “Tell us what you’ve decided to name your brain-indwelling, cyber-connected, nanotech-engineered baby.”
“Sparky.”
Switchblade let out a laugh. “You got a Scottish Terrier inside you, man?”
“I think it’s cute,” Windsong said. She started walking. “Are we almost there, Sparky?”
“Now I’m having second thoughts,” Chase said. He stepped ahead of her. “Don’t start calling me Sparky. But yes, we’re almost there. Quarter mile to go.” He pointed to a clearing on the hilltop ahead. “See the lights up there? That’s it.”
Switchblade’s heavy footsteps thumped behind Chase, followed by Kirel’s lighter step. As the four began their ascent to the WR drone manufacturing plant, Chase remembered there were people praying for him. Good thing. Sparky wasn’t the only one with a bad feeling about what was ahead.
25
The four crouched near an endless run of ten-foot steel fence with razor wire along the top. No laser fence or any sign of high-tech security. Chase double-checked the camera system, the now inactive cyber-guards, and the slightly hovering remaining drones positioned to load themselves on a jet that would be auto-piloted to the runway in less than an hour.
No sign of trouble. Stray humans were not detected by the exoself. But it did find a dog, and it was bigger than a Scottish terrier. Probably a Doberman by the look of its heat imprint. A second fence circled the plant inside the one that Chase peered through. The canine roamed the perimeter of the inner fence.
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