All the children I’d seen die, all that had happened to me, all that had hurt those who had been foolish enough to care about me, and still I had tried to save my enemies even as they hunted and hurt me and those I cared about.
Not today.
I screamed, no words, just the anger taking voice for a moment.
I clamped my mouth shut and held onto that rage. Before the nanomachines could close the wound, I reached down to my quad and rubbed my hand across it. I pulled back my hand. It was slick with my blood. I used the pain to focus, and I told the nanomachines in the blood to stay active. I pointed them at the men on the other side of the lake. I visualized the nanomachines building a massive cloud from the lake’s water. I saw in my mind them using every last drop of it, so that they formed a cloud so big it would rise above the lake and the sand like a mighty black storm, and then I imagined it falling on the men and their ships like a plague. I told them to go. I told them to disassemble everything on the other side of the lake that wasn’t sand—the people, the weapons, the ships. Everything. Then and only then should they stop.
A small cloud formed above my hand as the blood disappeared from it.
A slight morning breeze blew across the desert, but it did not deter the nanocloud.
The cloud moved to the lake and immediately began to grow. It grew wider and taller and thicker as it moved across the lake, slowly at first and then faster. The water level in the lake lowered, and the cloud grew taller.
More shots came from across the lake, and then more shots rang out immediately after them, but now the cloud made it hard to see us, so all of the shots smacked harmlessly into Lobo.
The cloud grew ever faster.
I heard screams and caught glimpses of people running, but then the cloud became so dense I could see nothing through it. It widened and grew taller, a thick black curtain rolling across the desert, and then it left the now dry lake.
The morning breeze turned into a wind blowing from the other side of the lake, but I knew it existed only because of the motion of the sand on either side of the cloud; the cloud stopped the wind, too.
I watched as the nanocloud moved relentlessly forward, over the ships, over the men behind the ships, and then over those who had run the farthest.
Finally, it paused, held for a moment like a dark note in a song of terror, and then it fell, the nanomachines turning to dust.
The rising sun shone brightly through the air the cloud had filled mere seconds ago.
The wind grew in strength and blew the dark brown sand and the black and gray dust into the dry lake, onto the statues and toward me, but the wind’s force was not great enough to bring any of it all the way back to me.
A host of statues stared at me, tears on their faces, tears of sorrow and joy and relief. Past the lake, where our pursuers had been, there was only desert.
“Would you care to explain to me what just happened?” Lobo said aloud.
His voice, gentler than I remembered it, snapped me out of my reverie.
I looked a last time at what I had done, at the emptiness I had left where life had been, and I wondered how long it would be before this, too, joined my nightmares.
“Yes,” I said, only comprehending my feeling as I gave it voice, “yes, I would, but not quite now. Now, we have to tend to Zoe.”
I picked her up and took her to the medbed. I took off her outer garments, peeled off the body armor, and watched as Lobo strapped her into the bed. Probes went into her, sensors ran across her body, and displays danced with information I hadn’t the training to decipher.
I sat silently and let Lobo work.
After a few minutes, he said, “She’s lost some blood from the gunshot wound, but it’s largely superficial. She has some broken ribs, but those are not going to be a big problem. The fall did the most damage and caused a little bleeding in her head, but I’ve addressed that.”
“Will she live?”
“Certainly,” Lobo said, “and with no loss of function. For now, though, she needs to rest. If she were awake, she’d feel a great deal of pain, so I’ve sedated her.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I walked outside and stared across the lake again.
Those few who came to see the statues would wonder where the water had gone, though in time the desert would reclaim it all, and the statues would vanish.
Others would come here searching for their men and for us. The men in the ships had almost certainly relayed their positions to their colleagues. It might take time for the Kang and Pimlani families to send more people, or they might move quickly, but others would follow. I no longer believed they would leave us alone.
We had to go.
We also had to get Zoe to safety.
Before we did, though, I wanted to leave something for those others. I wanted them wondering just what they had unleashed.
“We still have those long-running holo beacons, right?”
“Of course,” Lobo said. “Standard marking and emergency tools.”
“Record this,” I said, “and put it in a beacon, but with some changes I’ll give you.”
“Go,” Lobo said.
I started talking.
CHAPTER 47
Jon Moore
We left the beacon in place but did not activate it yet; I wanted one more review.
We lifted off.
“Where to?” Lobo said.
I wanted to return Zoe to the show, but there was no way we could be sure we would be safe for even a short time back on Haven. We needed to find someone who would take care of Zoe and make sure she made the trip home when she was healed enough to travel, which Lobo said would be in a few days.
“Connect me to Lydia Chang,” I said. Audio only on our end. I was still covered in dust and sand.
She answered the call quickly.
“Lydia,” I said, “this is Jon Moore.”
“Mr. Moore,” she said, “how are you?”
“I’m fine. How are you and Tasson?”
“Wonderful! He remembers almost nothing of what happened.”
“I’m very glad,” I said. “I am sorry to bother you, but I must ask you for a favor.”
“You know I owe you whatever you need,” she said, her voice more serious now. “What can I do to help?”
“A friend of mine was hurt,” I said. “I need someone to watch her for a few days until she is enough better to travel.”
“I must know, Jon, if you are asking me to do something illegal.”
“She did nothing wrong,” I said. “The men who shot her, though, definitely did. The police here would probably like to know about this affair, but for her safety, it’s better that they not and that she simply goes home.”
“I understand,” Chang said. “What would you like me to do?”
“Nothing,” I said, “except answer the door when I come to you, and then take care of her.”
“When?” she said.
“Within the next few hours.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“Thank you,” I said. I disconnected. To Lobo, I said, “Here’s what I need you to do.”
* * *
When we touched down in the same public landing zone we’d used before, a private executive transport was waiting. It was a large vehicle, easily big enough to accommodate a party of ten, and certainly spacious enough for one man and a woman on a field stretcher. A man came out of the front of the vehicle and showed me his ID; it matched what I’d expected. He helped me carry first Zoe’s bags and then Zoe into it.
We went straight to Chang’s. The man never spoke.
I sent him to knock on her door.
She opened it before he could.
I stepped out of the vehicle then so she could see my face.
She motioned us inside.
I held up a hand and then waved the man back to me. We carried Zoe quickly inside and put her on a bed in a back bedroom to which Chang directed us.
We put her bags on t
he floor near her.
I sent the man back to the vehicle to wait while I spoke with Chang in the room with the still sleeping Zoe.
I handed her some pain medication and some antibiotics, along with instructions for them should they prove necessary. When we’d gone over Zoe’s condition, I gave her a wallet with an open draft on a small account here.
“This has enough money,” I said, “for you to feed her, pay yourself well for taking care of her, and call a doctor if it comes to that. There’s also enough for her to book passage to the gate on a shuttle, pay for a jump to Haven, and buy a shuttle home from there.”
Chang nodded. “You do not need to pay me for my help,” she said.
“Taking care of my friend—her name is Zoe—will cost you work time. I want to compensate you for that.”
“Thank you.”
I stared into her eyes. “You trusted me to save your son’s life, and I did. You told me what you would do to me if I betrayed that trust. Do you remember?”
“Of course,” she said.
“This woman I am entrusting to you means a very great deal to me. I am trusting you with her life, and one day soon I will check on her again. Do you understand what I am saying?”
“No threat is necessary from you, either, Jon. I will take care of her.”
“As I did your son, Lydia, but still you felt the need to threaten me.”
She smiled. “Love is not always gentle,” she said. “I understand.”
I took a last look at Zoe Wang. I thought of the conversations we’d had and those we had not finished.
“One more request,” I said.
“What?” Chang said.
“I would like you to tell her three things for me.”
“Of course.”
“First, tell her that I saved Tasson and those other children from Kang and his horrible friends. I want her to know that story was true.”
“I have not been able to tell anyone that story,” she said, “because you asked me not to, so that will be a pleasure.”
“Tell her also that I am sorry.”
“Yes.”
I hesitated a long time, staring at Zoe, trying to understand everything I was feeling.
I stood in silence so long that Chang stepped closer to me and said, “Jon? The third thing?”
“Tell her that I loved her.”
I left.
* * *
When the transport dropped me at the landing zone, I waited until the man had opened my door before I left the vehicle. I walked to the far side of Lobo and waved him to follow me. I hadn’t finished paying yet, so he followed me without comment.
“I’ve purged it,” Lobo said to me over the machine frequency.
I took out my wallet and showed the man the tip I planned to give him. He stood a little straighter and paid closer attention when he saw the number. He pulled out his wallet and thumbed it to receive the tip.
“First,” I said, “none of this happened.”
“Nothing on my job ever happens,” he said. “It’s how our clients like it.”
I shook my head. “No, I mean that when you check your logs, you’ll find that nothing ever happened. There’s no record of any of this, no mileage on your vehicle, nothing. You received a call, you came here, no one showed, your firm kept the deposit, and you went back to the dispatch center. That’s it.”
He pulled out a comm and checked on the car.
“Interesting,” he said. He smiled. “Obviously, nothing happened here.”
I transferred the tip to his personal wallet. “As long as my friends never hear from you again, you’ll never see me again. If they do, I will have to come back. Are we clear?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “Nothing happened, and I wasted some time waiting for a client who never showed.”
He turned and left.
As soon as his vehicle vanished from sight, I boarded Lobo, and we took off.
“Has anyone visited the statues?” I said.
“Not as far as I can tell.”
“Take us back there. If you spot anyone near it or think someone might be monitoring it, we’ll leave. I believe, though, that it’s too early for reinforcements to have arrived. They would expect the teams who came for us to have to spend some time tracking us down and extracting me.”
“I agree,” Lobo said. “Heading to the statues.”
“Now,” I said, “we talk.”
The beginning
In the Great Northwestern Desert and at the jump gate
Planet Studio
CHAPTER 48
Jon Moore
On the flight there, I told Lobo everything.
I started with growing up on Pinecone Island on Pinkelponker, and I told him about Jennie healing me. I talked to him about learning to fight and kill on Dump, about Benny, about escaping that island only to end up as an experimental subject in Aggro. I told him about my nanomachines and my age. I showed him the note I had found from Jennie.
For the first and only time in my life, I held nothing back.
We talked for so long that we chose to hide again among some weather sats in case someone came to the statues, but no one did.
Then, he showed me the recordings he had made for me. I was amazed at how much he knew and at what I learned about him. I was most amazed at my stupidity in underestimating him and thinking I had covered my tracks so well. I wondered how many others had been able to gain the same knowledge.
“No more secrets?” Lobo said.
“No more secrets,” I said. “A fresh start—for us both.”
“Agreed,” he said. “I suggest we now leave here.”
“First,” I said, “I want to see the recording. I want to experience it the way the next set of people from Kang or Pimlani will.”
“Okay,” Lobo said.
We were both talked out, or at least I was, so we rode in silence back to where we’d been just that morning.
I stepped out of Lobo. The sand and the wind had already covered all signs of our earlier visit.
I walked over to the recording beacon that sat on a metal rod we’d anchored deep in the sand. I touched the beacon.
A holo sprang to life above it. A vague black outline of a man stood there, no face or features, just blackness in the form of a man drawn in broad brushstrokes.
A voice began to speak, a voice that was part human and part metal, raspy and rough yet clear.
“Nothing remains of you in either the figure or the voice,” Lobo said. “No one can trace this back to us.”
“Good,” I said.
This is the simple message the voice delivered, what the voice would say to others who came to hunt us, what the voice would tell tourists and artists who visited to marvel at the statues and their gods above.
If you know what happened here,
if you have any sense of what transpired,
then know also that it was unnecessary, avoidable.
If you decide to follow the path of those who came here,
know that you are choosing the same fate, and
that it is unnecessary and avoidable.
Walk away, and live your lives.
I stared at it and at the desert beyond the dry lake, where not so many hours ago ships had crashed and men had fought, and men had laughed at the pain they caused, and men had died.
I looked then to the sky.
Somewhere in all the worlds, my sister still lived.
I would find her, and in doing so I would in some small measure repay her for all that she had done for me. I would also hope to learn why I could control my nanomachines outside my body but Lobo could not, why I didn’t age, all of it, at least all that she could explain to me.
I had no idea how long it would take, but now that I knew she, too, was not aging and that others would keep her alive so they could use her to help themselves, I knew I had time. We both had time, and I would find her.
“We’re coming for you, Jennie,” I said. “We’re c
oming for you.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
David Drake understands all too well what goes into a novel, and we occasionally commiserate as we work on our respective projects. This time, his sage comments at a few key points helped me stay between the ditches.
Toni Weisskopf, my publisher, tolerated a degree of lateness on my part in delivering the manuscript that was downright criminal. I am appalled at what I put her and the fine folks at Baen through, and she and they have my gratitude. I also must thank her again for believing in the series and helping give it what success it has enjoyed.
To everyone who purchased the earlier Jon and Lobo novels (One Jump Ahead, Slanted Jack, Overthrowing Heaven, and Children No More), I offer my deep and sincere gratitude; you’ve made it possible for me to get paid to live and write a while longer in the universe I share with Jon and Lobo.
My business partner, Bill Catchings, has as always both done all he could to encourage and support my writing and been a great colleague for over twenty-five years. This time, he went above and beyond in giving me the time I needed away from work to finish the book.
Elizabeth Barnes was also instrumental in supporting that time away, for which I am very grateful.
As I’ve done in the course of my previous novels, I’ve traveled a fair amount while working on this one, and each of the places I’ve visited has affected me and thus the work. I want to tip my virtual hat to the people and sites of (in rough order of my first visits there during the writing of this novel) Cambridge and Boston, Massachusetts; Austin, Texas; Las Vegas, Nevada; Portland, Oregon; Seattle, Redmond, and Kirkland, Washington; Barcelona, Spain; Baltimore and the surrounding suburbs, Maryland; Washington, Virginia; Holden Beach, North Carolina; San Francisco, California; St. Louis, Missouri; San Jose and other cities in Silicon Valley, California; Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands; Asheville, North Carolina; Chattanooga, Tennessee; St. Petersburg, Florida; and, of course, my home in North Carolina.
As always, I am grateful to my children, Sarah and Scott, who continue to be amazing and wonderful young people despite having to put up with me regularly disappearing into my office for long periods of time, including during their Spring Break when I should have been spending time with them. Thanks, kids.
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