"What do you mean?" Scott said, drawing a chair up close to the Egyptian.
Khaled rubbed his eyes and ran his hands down his face. "I fear she plans to take everyone with her when she dies."
Scott sat, frozen in shock as he read the truth in his friend's expression. "How?"
"I don't know precisely. She’s been careful to keep the facts from those she has involved—myself, you and Ho—but she had me build a backdoor into the BonesWare 2.0 firmware upgrade. You wrote most of the code, but she made you pass it on to Ho, didn't she? He’s working for the Chinese, and has added subroutines that suit their purpose, though I don't know exactly what that would mean."
"Control," Scott said, quietly. "Blackmail. Imagine being able to hold an entire people to ransom. 'Do as we demand or everyone dies of a heart attack,' that sort of thing. That's what the Chinese want, I'm willing to bet."
Khaled nodded. "Yes, I believe you're probably right. But then she asked me to build this backdoor, and I fear she will use it to go one stage further. In fact, I'm certain she will.
“You know that our ancient kings, our pharaohs, would take their wives and servants into the afterlife with them, don't you? Some Chinese kings and emperors did the same thing. It is ironic that their modern counterparts do not learn the lessons of their own history."
"Then why develop the AIs? If everyone's dead?"
"Because this first wave will not kill everyone. A small minority do not have BonesWare at all. Others will have non-functioning devices or, for one reason or another, will not have received the upgrade. There are even some Chinese-made implants that are immune, though she may have found a way around that. The Annabel AIs will finish the job begun by the flesh and blood Annabel. They will sterilize the world."
"So, the Chinese plan to take over the free world, and Annabel has found a way to use that to destroy it, Trojan Horse style. Good grief, it's brilliant. Appalling, but brilliant. When did you work this out?"
Khaled shrugged. "In the past few days only. Too late to stop it."
"Can't you develop a counter virus?"
"I have, but with no way to deploy it, I can only help a tiny number of people. Here, turn around."
Scott Lee swung the chair and exposed his shoulder. He felt something cold move across his skin and then a momentary shudder.
"It is done. You will not die—though if you are expected to, you must prepare to make it appear that you have."
Scott put his jacket back on and held out his hand. "Thanks, my friend. I pray you're wrong about all this."
"I also, but I fear Allah—alayhis salām—is not listening."
And so, Scott Lee left his friend there to protect his most precious possession and the seed of any future hope. He hadn't imagined, when he'd created Alison, that she might be charged with saving the survivors of an apocalypse brought about by the woman she was modeled on.
He crept back up to the penthouse, contemplating the end of the world.
Chapter 1
Terror stabbed at Solly's heart as he spotted black smoke rising into the sky. The Humvee lurched forward as he hit the gas, the second vehicle diminishing in his rearview mirror. He could see Scott Lee looking at the sky, but Scott didn't have anyone in the community he cared about. As far as Solly knew, Lee loved no one, so he would allow logic to rule his actions. He would approach cautiously, whereas Solly careened along the road like a stampeding bull.
"Careful, Solly!"
He'd forgotten Vivian was there. He glanced at her as she grasped her seat with white knuckles and terror on her face. He eased off the gas just a little, but his sense of impending disaster didn't diminish. He dreaded arriving in the community—the place he'd left Janice for safety—to find what he knew would be there, but arrive he must.
They turned on to the approach road into what had once been a peaceful suburban retreat for its upper middle-class residents. Since the Long Night, it had become a hiding place for a small group of ex-Lee Corporation employees who'd been given an upgrade to their implants that had protected them from the cull. But they'd been betrayed by one of their own and now their former employers had returned and Solly knew what sort of vengeance they would wreak.
It looked like a post-nuclear landscape. The trees that had lined the road were now blackened fingers pointing into an angry sky that promised a storm to come. To left and right, houses were reduced to nothing more than carbonized shells and the Buchanans' home had been burned to the foundations. Dark smoke rose from the place, and bodies lay among the destruction.
"No, no, no," Solly whispered as he slammed his foot on the brake, jumped out of the Humvee and ran across the wet lawn of what had once been the home of the Henderson family. He, Ross and Janice had slept here on that night in November when the Buchanans had sheltered them. He'd left Janice locked in a bedroom as they'd set off for their attack on the fabrication plant. She could, of course, have escaped or been let out, but it was the first place he would look nevertheless.
The house had collapsed into a twisted mass of wreckage and steaming ash. He heard someone moving behind him and spun around with her name on his lips, but it was Vivian. Her face was twisted with grief and terror as she followed this madman who stumbled around in the smoldering remains of a home and picked among its ruin.
And then he saw it. A blackened hand lying among the debris, and an arm that disappeared beneath a pile of rubble.
Solly got onto his hands and knees as a soft rain began to fall from the open sky. He couldn't bring himself to touch the claw-like fingers, so he pushed at the burned wood, brick and tile that covered the body he knew to be there. Piece by piece he pushed them away until he'd revealed what remained of Janice. A burned and twisted travesty of a human soul that was unrecognizable as the woman he had so recently confessed his love for. Her long ringlets had disappeared and he was left to mourn nothing more than a symbol of the person she once was, a gravestone marking the future that would now never be. He knew, without a doubt, that it was her because, around her carbonized neck, lay the ruins of the necklace he’d given her.
And so Solly wept, not noticing the arm that gently enfolded him and rocked him in his agony.
He knew little of the next days. He allowed himself to be led to one of the unburned houses farther along the road and sat in numb silence as other people lit the wood burner and broke open their supplies before pressing a bowl of hot soup into his hands. Solly wanted nothing and allowed himself to be consumed by grief and guilt, its all too common companion.
He'd deceived her and, in doing so, condemned her. Had she come with them, she might have died on the raid, but she'd have then had more of a chance than by being trapped in this doomed community when the Reapers came. All the reasons he'd given for his decision to lock her in a bedroom while they went to destroy the fabrication plant were exposed for the excuses they were. The truth, as Becky Epstein had said, was that he’d treated Janice like a child, or worse, a piece of property. He'd done it out of love, but that didn't excuse his actions and he knew he would never be free of the guilt of it.
As the hours turned into days, he sat consumed by the blackness in his soul before, without noticing when it had begun, an ember began to glow deep within. But the light it cast on his mind wasn't the healthy illumination of the first stages of healing, it was the dull red of rage, the fire of an all-consuming need for revenge. He didn't care about his own future except that it had to contain the satisfaction of knowing he’d utterly crushed those who’d ordered Janice's death. Before he was finished, he would see the Lee Corporation destroyed or die in the attempt.
"Here, drink this."
A hand appeared in his peripheral vision and he sat wearily up on the couch. He looked up at Vivian as he breathed in the rich bitter aroma of a steaming mug of coffee.
"We need to talk, Solly."
"Look, I know you mean well," he croaked, "but I don't have anything to say."
She sat down beside him and sipped her drink. "I
'm sorry, truly. I know how you feel."
"How can you possibly know how…" he snapped, before finally remembering who he was talking to. "Oh. Sorry."
"Yes, I do know. My brother was my world. He looked after me after the Long Night and he was killed the same way and the same folk are responsible."
Solly looked around the living room. A fire burned in a central stone fireplace and the place looked clean and tidy. A bright day outside flooded the room with clean light. For the first time since he'd knelt beside what remained of Janice, he breathed out and looked beyond his own diminished soul. "Where is everyone?"
"It's just you and me, Sol," Vivian said. "The others have gone back to the farmhouse—Kuchinsky needs rest and care. They wanted you to go too, but I said you needed to be on your own for a while; 'cept for me, of course. But we can't stay here forever. I need you to come back, so we can go home."
Their eyes met. His memory replayed scenes from the previous days at high speed. Scenes of her caring for him, holding him, comforting him and keeping him alive. How old was she? Nineteen? Where did she get such compassion from?
"And where is home for us, Viv?"
She shrugged. "I dunno, but I sure as heck know it ain't here. Bobby always said home was where your family is, but he was all I had left. For now, I’m happy to go back to the farmhouse with you, Solly, but I haven't finished with those who killed my brother. Not by a long way."
There it was again. In among the empathy and love lurked a core of flint and a thirst for revenge.
"I have to go south and find my family," Solly said, as if finally latching onto something he could do. "It's pretty hopeless, but I have to look because once I know they're safe, I am going to find a way to take down the Lee Corporation if it's the last thing I do."
"But you have to go back to the farmhouse first, Solly," she said, fixing her sad brown eyes on him.
Solly sighed and nodded. "I know. I don't want to go back there, but I need to find Alison—she's the key to all this."
Shaking her head, Vivian took his hand. "Maybe you do, but there's someone else you need to see there."
"Who?"
"You know, Solly, for a clever man you can be pretty stupid. Family isn't just about blood, as you know well enough. You have to go back because Ross is there. That poor boy has been through enough and will be grieving just as you are. The last thing he needs is for the man he thinks of as his father to up and disappear without even saying goodbye."
Solly nodded. "You're right, of course. We'll set off in the morning. It's time to go home."
Solly spent the afternoon among the rubble of the Buchanan community. In the garden of Beth-Anne Buchanan, he found the little row of graves dug by Scott, Becky Epstein and Vivian. They'd been lined up along the white picket fence and the names had been written above each. Beth-Anne Buchanan, Anna Buchanan, then two more names Solly didn't recognize including one that simply said "Unknown." And there, at the end of the row, "Janice Summers."
He staggered back from the garden and into the ruins of the house. They had put up a fight, that much was obvious from the blood stains he'd seen on the pathway—beside one of which lay a black helmet. So, the Lees had sent in troops as well as one or more Reapers, though there was no sign of any damage to a drone. How could there be? Small arms made barely a dent on them and it was unlikely the Buchanans had any heavy weaponry.
Solly returned to the house he shared with Vivian to find her nudging the contents of a copper frying pan on the glowing red embers of the fire.
"I found some eggs," she said. "I guess they kept chickens and somehow these ones didn't get destroyed in the attack. You okay? Said I'd come with you."
Taking his coat off, Solly slumped on the couch. "I know, but I had to do it on my own. I had to see with my own eyes."
Vivian cursed softly. "I'm not sure these have come out how they’re supposed," she said, getting up and giving the frying pan a final stir. "How hard can scrambled eggs be?"
She showed him the inside of the frying pan which was an unpleasant mix of deep yellows, whites and dark brown. But his stomach rumbled as he looked at it. "It'll be fine," he said. "Thank you."
It was edible, Solly would acknowledge that, but he made a mental note to volunteer to do any further cooking until they got to the farmhouse. As night fell, he went outside with a bucket to draw some water from the stream that ran along the back of the houses here and filled the tank of the toilet—he had a feeling he was going to need it.
It took two days to pick their way across country back to Hagerstown. They avoided the military at Harrisburg by crossing the river south at a place called Highspire, before heading south to York and then east. It was a long and dreary drive and the Humvee didn't give the most comfortable of rides. They were low on fuel by the time they reached the farmhouse as the sun was about to set.
People emerged from the house and barn at the sound of the Humvee's diesel engine, though there was none of the celebration of his last return home. Jaxon was the first to greet him, throwing himself into Solly's arms as the tears flowed again. Solly did the rounds of embraces and, as he hugged Miss Prism, he saw Vivian walking away.
"Viv!" he called. She showed no sign of having heard him, so Solly ran after her and tugged at her arm "Where are you going?"
She shrugged and he could see that her face was also wet. "I go to the Fordham's place, that's where me bed is."
"No," Solly said, surprising himself with the strength of his feeling. "You must stay with us here."
"Why?"
"Because you're family now."
Solly found Ross on his own in the room Janice and Solly had shared. He was sitting in his wheelchair looking out of the window at the darkness beyond with unfocused eyes.
"Son," Solly said, putting his hand on Ross's shoulder.
"Why?" he said, not removing his gaze from the window.
Solly sighed and sat on the end of the bed, trying not to look at Janice's clothes which lay where she'd left them before they'd set off for the raid. "Which 'why' would you like to talk about first?"
"Why did they kill her? She did them no harm. Why not just take her prisoner?"
"I don't know, Ross. They took some prisoners because we couldn't account for more than half the people who'd lived there. I’m afraid they're probably discovering what slavery under the ownership of the Lees actually amounts to."
Ross spun around in his chair. "Why did you leave her there?" he said, his voice pleading.
"I thought she'd be safer there than coming on the raid with us."
"You were wrong."
"I know, Ross, I know."
"Did she ask to stay?"
"No, I didn't offer her the choice."
Ross's anger finally boiled over. "That's your problem, isn't it? Always making decisions for other people. Never thinking they might be the best ones to decide for themselves. Brilliant Solly Masters, the man with all the answers!"
Solly knew that Ross wanted him to bite back, but it would not be good for him to vent uncontrollably only to regret harsh words later. And, in any case, he was right. Though he'd had the best of intentions, the truth was he had been arrogant and, yes, selfish. He'd tried to protect Janice so that he wouldn't have to fear for her safety or cope with the grief of her coming to harm. Good plan.
So Solly sat with head bowed as the last echoes of Ross's accusations died away. He could hear the boy sobbing, but still he didn't look up.
"What are we going to do without her, Solly?" he muttered, a child again.
Solly shrugged. "I'm going to bring them down, Ross. I'm going to bring down the Lee Corporation, or die in the attempt. But first I'm going south to find my children and their mother. I feel as though I've lost everything, and I need to know whether that's true. I need to at least try. I'll give myself a couple of months to find them, and then I'm going to head to DC to join the president so I can do my bit for our country. And to get my revenge."
"And what abo
ut me?"
Solly looked at him, saw the fear of further loss. "Your home is here, Ross."
"But you called me son," he said. "Didn't you mean it?"
"Of course I did, but you'll be safer here."
Anger flashed in the boy's eyes. "Can't you just hear yourself? You're doing it again! I don't want to stay here. I want to come with you!"
"But Ross, you can't…" Solly couldn't bring himself to say it, so he just waved at the wheelchair.
"I'm learning! Look."
To his horror, Solly watched Ross fold up the foot rests on his chair and put his feet on the floor. He put his hands on the armrests and, with a heave, pulled himself upright. Solly saw his left leg move forward an inch or two and then Ross's arm began to shake.
Solly launched himself at Ross and was just in time to grab him. They fell to the floor, Solly cushioning the impact. The two of them lay together on the musty carpet as the sound of children playing permeated through the floor and, in the candlelight, they sobbed.
Chapter 2
Despite Solly's yearning to get away from the farmhouse as quickly as possible, it didn't turn out to be that simple. The place he'd called home for the past four months was now haunted by endless reminders of Janice.
He sat through seemingly endless meetings with Jaxon, Arnold and Miss Prism as they talked through the months ahead. He was disappearing just as the planting season was getting underway, just when he was most needed, and the guilt of that abandonment hung over him like a ghoul. They all asked him not to go and told him he was needed here, but he knew that unless he headed south to find his family, he could never settle anywhere.
Jaxon had asked him whether he was taking on this mission because it was hopeless—what were the chances of finding three people who could be anywhere in Texas right now? Didn't he know that it was a war zone down there? Jaxon was a clever young man and Solly was self-aware enough to acknowledge that he probably had a point. But he also knew for certain that he had to try. He would travel light and move fast, and he'd come back as soon as he'd found them, or had satisfied himself that they were no longer alive. He had an appointment with the Lee Corporation and, as Khan Noonian Singh said, “revenge is a dish best served cold.”
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