“It’s great to be able to see the books along with the box. I’ve wondered if the pouches and boxes the original books were found in represented something.”
“That is an interesting thought,” Mr. Perrot said.
“Speaking of the other copies,” Adisa said, “is there any word about the whereabouts of the copies of the Chronicles that Simon Hitchlords possessed? The Council would like to purchase them from his estate, if possible.”
“No,” Valerie answered. “They haven’t been located.”
“That’s a shame. However, it will not cloud this evening.” He reached into his coat pocket and took out a handful of programs, which he passed out to his companions. “Here is the program for tonight’s commemoration. Now I must circulate among our guests. I will catch up with you later.”
Valerie’s PCD rang. She took it out of her purse and walked a few steps away to take the call.
“Looks like you’re up first,” Logan said to Mr. Perrot, who was also looking at the program. “You’re getting sworn in to your Council seat in a half hour.” Mr. Perrot nodded and turned to the photo of the original Council members over the fireplace. Logan could sense it was spurring a flood of memories. “Shall we take another look at it?”
They started over and Madu and Nadine joined them. “To think that was just one year after we all arrived in Washington,” Nadine said, giving Logan and Mr. Perrot each a kiss on the cheek.
“We saw you talking to Rigel Wright,” Logan said. “How did that conversation go?”
“Not very well,” Madu said, sounding disheartened. “I think something must have happened at the conference with the president this afternoon. He indicated that there was going to be some big announcement that would render my research into the pyramids obsolete. He didn’t say anything more.”
“Logan Ford,” a female voice interrupted. Logan turned and saw the blond woman from the president’s contingent approaching, the one who had been trying to get a better look at him and Valerie. “My name is Catherine Bribergeld,” she said, extending her hand.
While Logan returned her handshake, he could not help but notice the thin gold bracelet she was wearing. The large letter N caught his eye. Logan was surprised that she didn’t acknowledge Mr. Perrot, Madu, or Nadine. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rigel Wright talking to Valerie. Actually, the two of them were laughing together. He turned back to Catherine Bribergeld. “I understand from the president that you all had a successful meeting this afternoon. It’s not easy saving the world.”
“I’ve heard through the grapevine that you have some firsthand experience with that kind of challenge,” Catherine replied, smirking. Logan forced himself not to react. “I suppose the Council of Satraya has its own theories on how to save the world, voodoo and all.”
Logan didn’t reply. Catherine glanced at Mr. Perrot, Madu, and Nadine.
“Voodoo is an interesting choice of words,” Mr. Perrot chimed in. “I take it that you don’t subscribe to the philosophies put forth in the Chronicles? Or perhaps you are not familiar with them? One of the original sets of the books is on display right over there.” He gestured to the glass case. “You should have a look. And the Council keeps many copies on hand. We can give you one to take home and read if you like.”
Catherine glanced at the display. “Yes, maybe I will take a look at the original. I have read the books, but I was brought up by my father to be more of a pragmatist. Philosophers and prophets never put food on my table or money in my hands.”
“What does put food on your table?” Logan asked.
“The financial industry,” Catherine answered. “Everyone can always use a little more money.”
Logan turned to Madu. “There you go,” he said, half in jest. “Maybe Catherine would be willing to fund some of your work.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but my company doesn’t fund the digging up of old things. We are focused on new construction.” She smiled at them knowingly. “Anyway, I must be off. I just wanted to say hello to the son of Camden and Cassandra Ford.” She turned, the smile still on her face, and disappeared into the crowd.
“Interesting lady,” Mr. Perrot said.
“Interesting indeed,” Madu agreed. “I’ve never met her, and yet she acts as if she knows my business.”
“She does seem to know a lot,” Logan said, thinking of Catherine’s comment about his having experience in saving the world. He wondered just how close she was to the president, if she knew about that.
Madu shrugged it off. “Come, Nadine, let us take a closer look at Cassandra’s mosaics.” He took Nadine by the arm and pulled her away.
Valerie came over with Rigel Wright. “Logan, Dad,” she said, “I’d like to introduce you to Rigel Wright, the founder of the Tripod Group.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Logan said. “But I think you drove Madu and Nadine away.”
“I’m sorry if they’re angry at me for refusing to fund his research any longer, but you can’t invest in something forever,” Rigel said. “Sometimes you have to recognize when you’ve been beaten to the punch. But more to the point, tell me, Logan, how does an art restorer score the hottest-looking agent in the WCF?”
Logan smiled, unfazed. “Well, first, your parents have to be best friends with her father. Then, as the two of you grow up together, you have to let her make fun of you every day and let her think she’s the boss. Then she has to go off and disappear for fifteen years. In the meantime, you need to struggle with life and have your whole world essentially fall apart. Then a series of events has to bring you back together.” Logan caught his breath, and Rigel smiled in turn. “After that, it’s easy—you just ask her out. There’s always more to a story than how the story appears to end.”
There was some commotion as the WCF guards started to clear the area by the doorway. “Looks like the president is leaving,” Valerie said. “You’d better go, Rigel. You don’t want to miss the big dinner.”
“It was great seeing you again, Valerie,” Rigel said, before rejoining the president’s contingent and departing.
Logan saw Catherine Bribergeld glance over her shoulder at him again before she left the room.
“You let me think I was the boss?” Valerie said to Logan, before giving him a kiss on the check.
A chime sounded. “We are about to start,” Adisa announced, as he walked to a podium that had been placed in front of the fireplace.
Valerie adjusted Logan’s tie.
41
Agreement among people is not advantageous when it is the unknown that is being sought.
—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA
WASHINGTON D.C., 7:55 P.M. LOCAL TIME, MARCH 24, 2070
The people in the drawing room applauded when Logan finished telling stories about Alain Perrot, his father’s best friend, and the wonderful times he and his family had shared with him when they all lived in New Chicago. As Logan left the podium, he gave Mr. Perrot a warm hug. Then he made his way through the crowd, stopping occasionally to shake a few hands, moving back to where Valerie, the children, and Ms. Sally were standing with Madu and Nadine. Valerie had been reading something on her PCD when he approached.
“Good job,” she said, adding with a grin, “You must have inherited your speech-writing skills from your mother.”
Logan gave her a quizzical look, but before he could ask her what she meant, Jordan and Jamie stepped between them.
“Dad!” Jordan said excitedly.
Logan put his finger to his lips, indicating that he should speak more softly.
“Can we go see the Egalitarian Round Table?”
Jamie eagerly nodded her head.
“Didn’t you see it when you went upstairs earlier?”
“There were too many people in the way for us to get a good look at it,” Jordan replied.
Logan turned to Ms. Sally. “Would you mind taking them?”
She nodded and led Jordan and Jamie out of the drawing room.
Log
an turned to Valerie. “What were you reading on your PCD?”
“We received some video footage from the Calhoun Center,” Valerie answered.
“Is there any word about Sumsari?” Madu asked.
“No. But we might have a lead on the man who took him.”
“Good,” Logan said, and he pointed to Valerie’s PCD. “But now it’s time to put that away. Your father’s about to begin his acceptance speech.”
Valerie did so and repositioned herself to gain a clearer view of the podium. Logan slipped his arm around her waist.
“My friends,” Mr. Perrot began, “I am deeply honored to be invited to join the Council of Satraya and to sit in a chair at the Egalitarian Round Table. Over the last few days, I have struggled to come up with the words that would convey my appreciation for this opportunity. My struggle might have continued until this very moment, had I not remembered a speech that Camden Ford gave to a gathering of world leaders during the Rising.” Mr. Perrot removed a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his jacket. “It is a little-known fact that this speech was actually written by Camden’s wife, Cassandra.”
Valerie turned to Logan and smiled.
Mr. Perrot flattened the paper on the podium. “So, with your permission, I would like to read the beginning of what I now think of as Camden and Cassandra’s speech. The words are as relevant and poignant today as they were back then.”
“I remember that speech,” Logan heard Madu whisper to Nadine behind him. “ ‘The sun rose this morning and illuminated the sky with opportunity . . .’ ”
“The sun rose this morning and illuminated the sky with opportunity,” Mr. Perrot said.
Logan turned and gave Madu and Nadine a fond look. After all these years, they still remembered what his father had said, what his mother had written.
As Logan listened to Mr. Perrot read his parents’ speech, he couldn’t help thinking about all the unanswered questions related to his parents that had recently arisen. Who had sent the photos of his parents to Simon? Who was RJ, and what had happened to his mother’s music teacher, Sumsari Baltik? Logan took a deep calming breath. Now wasn’t the time to think about all of that. He turned his attention back to Mr. Perrot.
A woman in front of Logan and Valerie started coughing. The man standing next to her handed her the glass of water he was holding.
The high-pitched beep of Valerie’s PCD indicated that an urgent message had come in. Valerie took her PCD out of her purse and looked at the screen. “It’s from Sylvia,” she whispered. “I have to call her. I’ll be right back.”
As Valerie walked out of the drawing room, Mr. Perrot finished his recital of Camden and Cassandra’s speech. “Thank you,” he said. “With those words, which I have borrowed from two outstanding former Council members, I would like to accept my seat on the Council of Satraya.”
Before the audience could applaud, a loud voice broke in. “Not so fast, sir. I think we should hear from this man standing next to me, who says he has a stronger claim to a seat at that Satraya table than you do.”
Logan moved to his left to get a better view of whoever was talking. Madu and Nadine did the same. The man stood more than two meters in height, was wearing blue jeans and a black leather vest, and had long, stringy brown hair. Logan immediately recognized him as Randolph Fenquist, the head of the Sentinel Coterie.
Randolph had his hand on the shoulder of a much shorter man, who had long gray hair and was holding a silver-handled cane. Logan had seen him earlier in the evening, admiring Deya’s set of the Chronicles. “I would like to introduce my friend Giovanni Rast,” Randolph shouted.
There was a tense silence as the members of the crowd turned to look at the two men. No one seemed to know the second man’s name. But Logan did. Giovanni Rast, one of the original finders of the Chronicles, who’d presumably been killed by Simon’s father. How could Giovanni Rast still be alive? And why did Giovanni Rast look familiar to him?
He was about to speak but was momentarily distracted by the swarm of flies in his face, which he tried and failed to swat away. The woman in front of him started coughing again, this time more severely, and the man who had handed her a glass of water started coughing, too. Logan’s heart was racing as he struggled to hear what Randolph was saying.
Adisa Kayin rushed to the podium and spoke into the microphone beside Mr. Perrot. “The Council does not appreciate your interrupting our ceremony with these spurious claims . . .”
His voice was quickly drowned out by the sounds of more people coughing. The woman in front of Logan collapsed on the floor. The people next to her bent to assist her, but soon they were coughing, too. Logan’s attention was ripped away from Randolph and Giovanni, and he watched in horror as more people fell to the floor.
“Everyone has to get out of here!”
Logan turned at the sound of Valerie’s voice. Holding a tissue over her mouth, she was pushing her way through the crowd, holding out her badge.
“I’m WCF! Everyone has to exit the building right now!”
Most people rushed the door, but a handful of guests were helping the afflicted to their feet or carrying them to the exits. Logan was about to pick up an elderly man who had fallen, when Valerie ran over to him.
“Logan! Grab as many people as you can, and get out of here!” She turned to the podium. “Dad! Adisa! You do the same thing!”
“What’s going on?” Logan asked.
Valerie grabbed the handkerchief from the pocket of Logan’s suit jacket and put it over his mouth and nose. Madu covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief, and Nadine used her shawl. “Sylvia called. They detected a seventy-nine-point-six-five-four-hertz ELF pulse coming from 18th and New York.”
“That’s right here!” Logan said.
Valerie nodded. “Those aren’t flies you’re swatting. They’re killer nanites. We have to get everyone at least fifty meters away from this building and out of range of the ELF pulse.”
Four police officers had arrived and were carrying people who were gasping for breath out of the room.
“Dad! What’s going on?” Logan turned and saw Jordan, Jamie, and Ms. Sally.
“Go!” Valerie said. “Get them out!”
Mr. Perrot rushed over.
“What about you?” Logan asked Valerie.
“I need to find the activation device. Sylvia and Chetan are en route. They’ll be here in two minutes. Now, get out of here!”
“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Logan said. “That device could be anywhere in the building and we have no idea what it looks like.” He turned to Mr. Perrot. “Take the children and Ms. Sally. Madu, Nadine, can you help a few of these people to the exit? Follow Mr. Perrot.”
“And get as far away from this building as you can,” added Valerie. “You have to get out of the range of the signal that is activating these nanites.”
Madu and Nadine nodded, helping an elderly man to his feet and moving quickly, as Mr. Perrot took Jamie’s and Jordan’s hands and led them and Ms. Sally out of the drawing room.
Two more uniformed officers appeared in the doorway.
“You two,” Valerie said, “start checking the other floors. Make sure that everyone vacates the building.”
Logan looked around the drawing room and saw that there were still about ten people on the floor, gasping for air, struggling to breathe. Their faces were turning blue.
“They must have breathed in the nanites,” Valerie said. “And now the nanites are multiplying and consuming all the oxygen in their lungs.”
Logan heard a loud cracking sound to his right. He looked over and saw a woman with an unnaturally flat chest, as if it had caved in. An empty water glass lay next to her. He gazed around again; he saw no sign of Randolph Fenquist or the man he claimed was Giovanni Rast.
“We have to find the activation device. Sylvia said the signal was coming from the Council building and extending approximately fifty meters in all directions.” As Valerie looked
around, she saw an ashy substance floating in the air. “This is what happened in the Chromatography Bubble when Goshi died.”
Sylvia and Chetan sprinted through the doorway, wearing gas masks. “Put these on!” Sylvia shouted, handing a pair to Valerie and Logan.
Chetan bent down next to a woman on the floor who had gone still. “The nanites are creating a vacuum in their lungs,” he said. More cracking sounds could be heard, as chest and rib bones continued to break.
“Should we seal the doors and windows to this room?” asked Valerie. “We need to try and keep the nanites isolated.”
“Too late for that,” replied Sylvia. “I saw nanites everywhere when we entered the building. Even if we could isolate them, it wouldn’t take long for a vacuum to form—these wooden doors and glass windows wouldn’t stand a chance. We need to find the activation device.”
A WCF agent wearing a gas mask entered the room and handed Sylvia a device, which she placed on the floor at the center of the drawing room. The shiny, black, half-meter-tall cylinder had a timer attached to it.
“What’s that?” Logan asked.
“An explosive,” Sylvia said grimly. “If we can’t find the activation device in the next eight and a half minutes, we’re not going to have any other choice. It’s the only way to deactivate any nanites that might be on your clothing or you might have inhaled.”
“You’re going to blow up the Council of Satraya building?” Logan said incredulously.
“It might be our only option,” Valerie said. “These nanites are not going to stop multiplying.
“In ten minutes, all the oxygen in this building will be devoured and a vacuum is going to collapse this room along with the entire building,” Sylvia said with no uncertainty. “The nanites are not going to stop there, they will keep sucking the oxygen from the surrounding area. If we can’t turn the nanites off, we need to neutralize the activation device.”
Another officer came to the doorway. “We’ve put out the order to evacuate everyone within a two-hundred-meter radius of this building. We’re going door to door. It should take about an hour.”
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