Killswitch

by Victoria Buck

  Chase opened his hand and she dropped the golden circles into his palm. He flipped them over and over. Then he took his father’s ring and placed it on his finger. A perfect fit.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have the engagement ring. The diamond made it worth a lot, and I sold it when I gave up my WR assignment. I needed the money.”

  “I’m sorry you had to do that, Mom. Tell me how you ended up here.” He looked her in the eyes. “And tell me about my father. I saw the look on your face the other day when I told Amos that I thought Dad knew more about the Bible than he let on.”

  Her head bowed and tears filled her eyes. “Your father became a believer when you were about ten. I was so afraid of filling your mind with fairytales that I made him promise to keep it to himself. I thought he was crazy. It was a source of contention for a while. I told him I’d leave if he didn’t let it go. Well, he loved me.” She smiled. “And I loved him. And we agreed not to talk about it.”

  “He tried to tell me about it a couple of times,” Chase said. “Now I know why he stopped short.”

  She nodded. “It was my fault.”

  He put his arm around her shoulder. “I didn’t say that. Dad was just like the rest of the Christians I’ve met. He learned to be quiet.”

  “When he died, I didn’t give it another thought. Never considered the possibility that what he believed was true. Didn’t picture him in Heaven or anything. He was just gone.”

  “What happened to change your mind?”

  She pulled her husband’s ring from Chase’s finger and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. “About a year ago I met a man—Marty—when I took a trip to Orlando. He was a believer and he reminded me so much of your dad. Only he didn’t keep quiet. He said it was time to unlearn bad habits. Of course, he got arrested. When they let him go, his Christian friends told him to go underground. He was being watched because…well, he was too vocal. We stayed in contact. But he got arrested again. And again. And then he led me to the Lord. He made sense. Everything your father had tried to tell me made sense then. I couldn’t deny it any longer.”

  “What happened to Marty?”

  “The last time he got arrested, I was with him. We’d gone to New York to a rally and the Feds raided it. They took me in too. I didn’t admit to anything—especially not to being a Christian. The police let me go—they didn’t even file a report on me. But it was Marty’s fourth offense. I don’t know where they sent him. I never saw him again.”

  Chase rubbed her shoulder.

  “I couldn’t admit I’d become a believer, Chase. I couldn’t say it. After that, I wanted to atone for my cowardice. And I wanted to hide. So I sold everything, took up with a church house in New York, and asked how I could get into the underground. My plan was, and still is, to spend the rest of my life serving here. I feel like I have a purpose in this place. And I’m too afraid to try to live the life of a believer out in the open.”

  “Don’t be afraid, Mom.”

  “It’s easy to say, son. But so hard to live. I am afraid. I can’t help it.”

  “I understand.” He took the ring back and jangled it against the smaller one in his hand. “So, you met Mel at the church house in New York?”

  “Can you imagine my surprise when I came face to face with the woman who had been your assistant? Who’d programmed you? When she joined the underground, I went with her. I’d only wanted a place to hide, but then I knew God had a reason for bringing me here.”

  “To give me these rings? It’s a nice souvenir. I’ll keep them in a safe place.” He stuck the rings in his pocket. “Thanks.”

  She crossed her arms and gave him a motherly stare, and he laughed.

  “Charles Alexander Redding…”

  “Oh, the full name. I must be in trouble.”

  “You know what those rings are for. You go ask that precious girl to marry you.”

  “That’s a wonderful dream. But do you really think this is any way to start a marriage? Living with constant danger? Not knowing what tomorrow holds?”

  “So you face it together. You’re together anyway. It could only make things better.”

  Chase shook his head. “I guess I’m the one who’s afraid.” He reached into his pocket to grasp the rings. “It’s not that I don’t want to marry her.”

  She handed him the leather bag. “Think about it, son. I won’t say anything to Melody about the rings.”

  “OK. Goodnight. I love you, Mom. I’m glad you told me your story.” He kissed her on the cheek and left for his room.

  He returned the rings to their pouch and stuffed it under his mattress. Then he stretched out on the bed and began the process of convincing his body to accept sleep. His body that teemed with nanobytes and silicon. Fake organs. Processors that might or might not ever activate again. How could he subject Mel to all that? Why would she want to marry a transhuman? If they got married, they might end up—

  What would the next generation be like?

  41

  Morning brought no answers. Chase had slept little. Not that it mattered. Except that lying awake most of the night led to worry. How long would that construction project up top last? What would happen when it was done? People would be in the building every day.

  “God help us.”

  Where was the exoself? Switchblade hadn’t gotten a chance to look for the rogue techno brain. Not with yesterday’s job of closing up the passage between one world and another. Today, maybe he’d start looking. But not Chase. He would spend the day trying to convince Amos to make a trip to Gagnon to see Dr. John.

  “Might be pointless, but we have to try.”

  Kerstin. What was she doing now that she’d activated the killswitch and lost track of Chase? She might be in the area for real this time. Looking for him.

  “Please, God, don’t let her end up in Herouxville. Send her to Montreal. Or to the frozen tundra.”

  Mel. Chase smiled. But he worried just the same.

  “Protect her.”

  After a breakfast of hash and apples, Chase followed Amos to the command center. The noise picked up from above, but the people seemed less concerned now that the hole in the wall was gone. Just to slow down the workers who would come into that room sooner or later, Switchblade had jammed the lock. Maybe they wouldn’t care enough about what was on the other side to force the door open.

  Mel worked at her station, concentrating on the needs of some other branch of the underground. Chase slowed to kiss her on the top of her head. She reached behind her and clutched his hand for a moment before he kept walking.

  He sat beside Amos. “I want to take you to Gagnon to see the doctor.”

  Amos didn’t even look up. “I talked to Dr. John. There is nothing he can do for me.”

  “He could take some blood samples. Maybe tell us how long—”

  “How long I’ve got to live? What good would that do?”

  Chase took a breath and sat silent. It wouldn’t matter at all. The man didn’t want to know.

  “What I need to be doing is preparing my replacement,” Amos said. “I’m going to ask Melody to take over for me.”

  Chase flew out of the chair. He didn’t know what to say. But he didn’t like the idea.

  “Sit down. I know you want to protect her. To take care of her. But I’ve prayed about it and I think it’s the right decision.” Amos pulled on Chase’s arm until he returned to his seat. “It’ll be all right, son. You’ll be there with her.”

  “I’m afraid she’ll get hurt.”

  “She won’t be in any more danger than she is now. I’m going to talk with her tomorrow. Don’t say anything.”

  “I had a plan to get you to the doctor tomorrow. We could arrange for a transport to pick us up in time to get to Gagnon before sunup. Did you know they don’t even try to hide there? They just walk around town like they own the place.”

  “It’s a different scenario. They don’t have a drone plant nearby. And they do have a fair population of ou
sted folks. They blend in.”

  “Yeah. Must be nice.”

  Amos laughed. “I don’t think nice is the word for it. Even if they do get to see the sun every day.”

  Chase smirked. “You’re right. It’s hard, no matter what.” He leaned back and studied the computer screen in front of Amos.

  “Seems like it’s been a little harder lately.” Amos typed as he spoke.

  “Since I got here?”

  Amos gave him a firm look. “Since Kirel pulled one over on us.”

  “Oh. OK, we’ll blame it on Kirel, who happened to show up right after me.” Chase lifted his eyes to the painting that now graced this sterile and serious room. He could almost feel the warmth, the radiance of the sun. The breeze against his skin. He could almost hear the voice.

  Then something fainter than a whisper spoke in his soul and repeated what the voice had told him in a dream.

  It’s a place of persecution.

  Chase shuddered. How much more could the people of Blue Sky Field take? He dropped his gaze to find Mel. She seemed pleased with the outcome of whatever she’d been working on and she looked up and smiled.

  He scanned the room and found Switchblade staring at a computer screen then moving to the next station and staring at another screen. Was he looking for Sparky? Seemed ridiculous to think the exoself could jump from one computer to another.

  Chase laughed under his breath. Then he wandered to the nearest station and looked for a message on the screen. A sign. It wasn’t so unbelievable.

  Mom came in and took her seat at a table in the center of the room. Leo worked nearby. The young girl, Finley, whose parents had been murdered by the WR, sat in the corner with an old laptop in her grip and a look of confusion on her face.

  Amos leaned over the desk where he worked. He let out a soft groan. Blood poured from his nose and he dropped to the floor.

  42

  Prayers followed shrieks as everyone in the room rushed to Amos. Chase parted the crowd, dropped to his knees, and took off his shirt. He wadded it into a ball and pressed it against Amos’s nose. Switchblade knelt beside Chase.

  “I’ll carry him to his room,” Switchblade said. “You got any idea what happened? What’s wrong with him?”

  “He’s sick,” Chase whispered. “Leukemia.”

  “You knew about it? Why would he tell you and not the rest of us?”

  “Let’s get him to his room.” Chase shouted to the people behind him, “Everybody back up.”

  Mel put her hand on Chase’s shoulder. Then she backed away with the rest of the onlookers. Chase glanced at her as she crossed her arms and shook her head.

  Switchblade picked Amos up off the floor. The bleeding had slowed but Amos didn’t open his eyes. Chase dropped the bloody shirt and followed Switchblade to the leader’s private quarters near the front of the hallway. Mel hurried to Chase’s side.

  When they were all inside the room, Mel addressed the concerned crowd gathering in the hall. “Go and tell everyone to pray.” Then she closed the door. Her anxious eyes met Chase. “There will be no hiding it now. The people have to be told how sick he is.”

  “You knew about this?” Switchblade asked.

  She nodded. “Chase didn’t want to tell him without some support. He told Molly and me before he told Amos.”

  Switchblade lowered Amos to the bed, and she pulled a blanket over the ailing leader.

  “I get it.” Switchblade eyed Chase. “This is one of your transhuman tricks. Right? You know when somebody’s sick?”

  “Not anymore,” Chase said.

  Mel opened the door of a small closet and pulled out a red shirt. She draped it over Chase’s shoulders, and he pulled it on and buttoned it.

  “Sparky took that gift when he left, huh?” Switchblade grabbed a hand towel from a table and dunked it into a pitcher of water. He wrung it out and began wiping Amos’s face.

  “Yeah, it’s gone. It was useless anyway. I could tell you if you were sick but I couldn’t do anything about it.”

  Amos drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes. “What happened?”

  Mel sat on the bed next to him. “You passed out. And you had a bad nosebleed. How are you feeling?”

  “I could use some rest.” Amos glanced up at Chase. “Melody, why don’t you take care of things for the rest of the day?”

  “Sure, I can do that. Amos, maybe we ought to try to get you to see the doctor at Storm on the River.”

  “That’s exactly what I told him earlier,” Chase said. “But he wouldn’t agree to it.”

  “Well…” She put her hand on Amos’s arm. “I think it would be a good idea. I can do your job for a while.”

  “That’s exactly what I told him earlier.” Amos grinned. “But he wouldn’t agree to it.”

  “Wait, you told who what?” Mel asked.

  “I told Chase I wanted you to take over as leader of Blue Sky Field,” Amos said.

  “Permanently? Amos, are you serious?” Her wide-eyed expression found Chase. “But you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

  “I know you’d do a great job. It’s just…” What was he supposed to tell her? She’d not only do a great job, she was the only person for the job. “I’m worried about you taking on so much. But I know you can handle it.”

  “All right then.” She pushed her hair back and sat a little straighter. “I accept.” She faced Amos. “You get some rest. I’ll go…take care of things.” She looked back and forth between Chase and Switchblade. “I’ll need both of you out there. Switchblade, find somebody to sit with Amos.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” Amos said. “I just need a nap.”

  “I’m in charge now, Amos,” she said. “Go on, Switch. Ask Kim.”

  Mel sure didn’t have any trouble moving right into a role that only a moment ago had seemed a shocking concept. Maybe God had not only directed Amos, but had given Mel a clue as well. Her small stature didn’t fit the look of determination she now showed. Chase wasn’t surprised. She could do this. Even if he’d prefer someone else take the job.

  “That’s a good idea,” he said. “Mom’ll take good care of you, Amos.”

  “I’m on it,” Switchblade said as he left the room.

  “Amos, we’ll be right outside the door,” Mel said. She took Chase by the hand. “Yell if you need anything before Kim gets here.”

  “I don’t think I can yell. But I’ll be fine. Go on.”

  Mel led Chase out of the room and closed the door. The crowd was gone—probably in the meeting room praying. Chase searched Mel’s eyes, and she threw her arms around him and dropped her head to his chest.

  He held her tight. “You OK, boss?”

  She barely shook, and he didn’t know for sure if she was laughing or crying. Turned out to be a little of both.

  “Don’t you dare start calling me boss,” she said.

  He rubbed her back and kissed her forehead.

  “Why did you tell Amos you didn’t want me in charge?”

  “That’s not at all what I said, Melody. I just don’t want you to end up in any more danger than necessary.”

  “Well, that’s ridiculous.”

  “Yeah, Amos pointed that out. And he was right.”

  “This scares me to death,” she said.

  He pulled back and studied her expression. “What are you scared of?”

  “Making bad decisions. Letting people down. Proving that I’m too young and inexperienced for the job. Which I am.”

  “Amos said he prayed and he believes you’re the one who should take over. Don’t be afraid.”

  “I need you, Chase. You have to promise to stay right beside me. No more up top excursions.”

  He pursed his lips and drew a breath.

  “Oh, no, you are not taking Amos to Gagnon.”

  “He needs to go. I don’t know exactly why, but I believe the doctor can help him. Even if it’s only to keep him from dying a painful death underground.”

  “I
agree, Chase. But let Switchblade take him.”

  “Until a couple of days ago I was a great system of defense. But now, Switchblade is the best security guard this place has.”

  Mel dropped her gaze, her eyes blinking. “I’ll think about it later. Right now we need to have a meeting.”

  Chase nodded. “I imagine most people are in the meeting room. Let’s join them.”

  Mom walked up with Switchblade, who’d been too late to fill her in on Amos’s condition. Molly had joined the praying people and told them the truth about their leader. And about the mini Wilberton inside the transhuman.

  “Molly said she didn’t know if it still functioned, and I told the others it was gone,” Mom said. “It is gone, isn’t it, son?”

  “Like the rest of the gadgets. The only thing I can do now, it seems, is heal myself.” Chase realized as soon as he said it that the statement was contrary to the Spirit residing in him. He gazed upward. The God of Underground Church, of the universe, could give him information on a level far deeper than the exoself had ever done.

  “Well, I can’t heal myself. But there’s something in my blood that…” Startled by what had just come to mind, he sucked in a breath.

  “What is it?” Mel asked.

  Chase wasn’t sure if he should allow the direction his thoughts were taking. This time, the Spirit didn’t seem to offer any insight. Surely God would have something to say about drawing the blood of a transhuman and shooting it into a man who was about to die. Chase shook off the idea. It’d never work.

  “Nothing.” He looked at his mother. “If everybody’s waiting in line for a diagnosis, I can’t do it anymore.”

  “There’s no line.” She rolled her eyes. “I hope you realize you don’t have to perform for us, Chase. We all love you. Even if you’re just a regular man.”

  They loved him? For no reason? Somewhere in the back of Chase’s mind, a gameshow host still tried to please the masses. But that man was fading away as surely as the exoself was gone for good.

  “Thank you, Mom. I’ll try to remember that.”

  43

  Chase, Switchblade, and Mel interrupted prayers in the meeting room. Dozens of faces looked up at Chase. People rose from their knees and inched closer. He wasn’t so sure his mother was right about them not wanting anything from him.