Flee The Darkness

by Grant R. Jeffrey

  She dampened a fresh paper towel, then wiped her tears away. The towel took most of her makeup, too, and when Lauren looked in the mirror again, she had to smile at the sight of her plain, scrubbed appearance.

  “Might as well make a fresh start of it,” she murmured, dropping the paper towels into the trash receptacle.

  And as she made her way back to her seat, Lauren realized that her headache had disappeared.

  In the back of the first class section, Kord Herrick lifted his head and watched as Lauren Mitchell stepped over Daniel Prentice and fell, rather ungracefully, back into her seat.

  Kord lifted his newspaper again, concealing his face. Neither Prentice nor the woman had recognized him in the false beard and hat, and Kord had kept to himself as he waited to board the plane. He had been fortunate to get aboard the flight; if a certain Mr. William Geiger had not been quietly attacked in the airport parking lot, Kord would not have a seat at all.

  “Mr. Geiger?”

  The flight attendant’s voice startled Kord, and he glanced up. “Yes?”

  “You pre-ordered a kosher meal. I just wanted to be certain you were in the proper seat. We’ll be serving dinner soon.”

  “Thank you.” Kord nodded and returned to his newspaper. When the stewardess had moved back down the aisle, he lowered the edge of the paper again, just enough to see the top of Prentice’s dark head.

  Romulus had insisted that Kord follow Prentice back to Washington. He was not completely certain of his pet genius’s loyalty, and it was absolutely imperative that Prentice and the woman convince President Stedman to link his Millennium Network with that of the European Union.

  Kord noticed that Prentice had shifted and turned his face toward the aisle. He was awake, then, and deliberately avoiding conversation with Miss Mitchell.

  Kord smiled. This romantic spat was an interesting development, to be sure, and one that might work in his favor. The young woman was a staunch Republican, and that political party was founded upon a platform of American conservatism. Such traditional thinking could only hinder the new community, so the less time Prentice spent with her, the better.

  Satisfied that Romulus had nothing to worry about, Kord lifted his newspaper and chortled at the cartoon antics of Blondie and Dagwood.

  TWENTY-TWO

  11:28 A.M., Friday, February 19, 1999

  “NEVER, NEVER, NEVER!” THE PRESIDENT’S FIST POUNDED THE DESK WITH EVERY word, and Daniel flinched with each separate thump. “Never will I surrender our national sovereignty. You can just go back to Brussels or Paris or wherever that fellow is and tell him that America may stand apart from the others, but she will always stand on her own two feet.”

  President Stedman glared at General Herrick, who had joined the briefing with Daniel, Lauren, and General Archer. General Herrick had graciously opened the meeting, relaying the continuing good wishes of the European Union’s Council of Ministers, and then had stunned Daniel by announcing that the Commission president, Adrian Romulus, wished to invite the United States to join the European Community.

  Herrick had lifted a sheet of paper and read from it as he concluded his greeting. “For years, Mr. President, our nations have been aligned in economic and military treaties through NATO and the UN. We have formed a beneficial partnership, and we have benefited from each other. Since we will be operating on identical Millennium computer systems, both designed and implemented by Prentice Technologies, doesn’t it seem that the time is ripe for our two confederacies to move toward unification?”

  The president, Daniel deduced, was most definitely not interested in Romulus’s offer.

  “Mr. President—” General Archer threw a nervous glance at Daniel, then slid to the edge of the sofa. “Sir, the European Union does not want us to surrender anything. They are asking that we link our Millennium Network to theirs, that we participate in a mutual sharing of resources. Surely you agree that we ought to become part of the global community of nations?”

  Silence reigned in the Oval Office for a moment, then the president leaned back in his chair and pressed a finger across his lips. “No. I don’t like it. I don’t think the American people will like it. Oh, they may be dazzled by the idea of traveling to Europe without a passport, but let’s get real. This arrangement takes far more from our people than it gives.”

  “I fail to see how that could be true.” Herrick, who sat beside General Archer, lifted an elegant silver brow. “Consolidation always simplifies things. For instance, European Union countries now enjoy one citizenship and passport, one high court, one central bank and currency, one foreign policy and army. We have replaced the barriers and confusion of the past with one body to govern political, economic, and military control.”

  “That’s just it.” The president pounded the desk again. “You expect us to give up our Supreme Court, our Congress, and our system of administration? Ha! You folks in Europe don’t know what you’re asking if you want a piece of this American pie.”

  General Herrick looked at Daniel, obviously waiting for him to say something, but Daniel wasn’t certain what Stedman wanted to hear. He couldn’t forget that Lauren was in the room, too, her face pale and drawn.

  Daniel plunged in. “Think of the advantages.” He glanced at Herrick, then gave the president what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “One citizenship and passport—we’re practically at that stage now in our relationship with Canada. Why not include Europe? And one central bank— the world markets are already linked by instantaneous computer transactions, so why not adopt one global currency? A dollar no longer represents its worth in gold; its value is subjective. So why not tie our currency to the one being developed in Europe? Together Europe and North America control over 70 percent of the global economy. If we unite, the Pacific Rim nations are sure to join us.”

  Warming to his subject, Daniel leaned forward and looked into the president’s eyes. At least the man wasn’t pounding the desk. “Within the Millennium Network, sir,” he began, spreading his hands,“are all the tools we need. In less than ten months our system will be operational, and at your urging I designed a virtually identical Millennium system for Europe. Why not link them? The idea is cost-effective, simple, and incredibly logical.”

  The president did not answer but swiveled his chair toward Lauren. She sat at the side of the president’s desk with a polite, frozen look on her face.

  “What do you think, Lauren?” The president’s eyes fastened on her. “You were over there, you have a sense of these things. Will our people take to the idea, or will they think we’re selling out?”

  Lauren lowered her gaze as if gathering her thoughts, then tilted her head. “There is a marked difference between our people and the Europeans. The concept of unity might be more popular in a few years, after our citizens have had a chance to warm to the idea. But right now I believe the average American is more concerned about crime on his own street than political movements coming out of Belgium.”

  Daniel caught Lauren’s eye and grinned, silently congratulating her on her diplomacy. He had not had an opportunity to speak to her alone since he arrived at the White House this morning, but he fully intended to take her to lunch and bury the hatchet—if she’d let him.

  The president’s chair creaked as he leaned forward and folded his arms on the desk. “Well, gentlemen, thank you for your time. But I’ll be honest with you.” His gaze shifted from General Archer to General Herrick. “General Herrick, we’ve heard some disturbing intelligence reports on Mr. Romulus’s activities. For one, we still believe Saddam Hussein is hiding chemical and biological weapons, and I can’t understand why Romulus would want to have dinner with that fellow. Second, some of his personal relationships seem a little bizarre, and I don’t want to align my country’s interests with somebody who ought to be reclining on a psychiatrist’s couch three or four times a week.”

  “I’m certain I don’t know what you mean.” Huffing in indignation, Herrick drew himself upright. “I cannot sit
here and allow you to insult Mr. Romulus.”

  “Well, sir, I can’t help telling the truth. It comes from being a country boy, I guess. But I can tell you one truth, and you can take this back to Europe and repeat it to anyone who’s interested.” He pointed his index finger directly at Herrick, then lowered it to tap the desk emphatically. “The United States will join the European Union in a new world order over my dead body. That’s the end of it, I promise you. You can sweet-talk some senators and congressfolk while you’re here, but I really don’t think you’re going to win many points for your boss. Americans love their country, and they’re pretty darn independent.”

  President Stedman glanced at his watch, then stood and buttoned his jacket. “Thank you, gentlemen, but I believe I have another appointment.”

  Daniel rubbed his hand over his chin, hiding a smile as he stood with Lauren and the two generals. Sam Stedman was not always the most diplomatic man, but he was definitely a man of conviction. If Adrian Romulus wanted to visit the United States without a passport, he’d have to wait at least until after the year 2000 election.

  Daniel followed the others out of the office, then lingered in the hall until Lauren came out and closed the door. “Lunch?” he asked, giving her his most charming smile.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, smiling back, “but I have another appointment. I probably won’t have time for lunch today.”

  “Oh.” Daniel swallowed his disappointment and found it more bitter tasting than he’d expected. He shrugged. “Perhaps later. But I’m not sure how long I’m going to be in Washington.”

  “I don’t imagine you’ll be here long at all.” She took a deep breath and softened her smile. “I’m sorry, Daniel, that sounded catty. What I meant to say was that I know you have a lot of work to do back in New York. And the president was quite firm—I really don’t think this subject is open for further discussion. So unless you have some other great idea to unite the world—”

  “Sorry. Fresh out.” Daniel slipped his hands into his pockets and struggled with the sense of confusion her presence always elicited. “Look me up, then, if you come to New York.”

  “Sure.” She nodded, and he thought he might have seen a faint shimmer of moisture in her blue eyes. Maybe it was the light.

  “See you later, Lauren.”

  Without any further delay, Daniel turned and left the woman of his dreams standing in the hallway outside the Oval Office.

  Kord Herrick picked up the safe phone, then pressed the button that automatically encrypted all calls. The feature was annoying, for the transmission was delayed a few seconds, but in this case, encryption was absolutely necessary.

  Charles, Romulus’s butler, took the call, and Kord leaned back against the leather seats in the limo, imagining the dignity with which the old man carried the phone into the room where Romulus waited.

  “Yes?”

  Kord cleared his throat. “It’s just as you feared. He won’t listen. His exact words were, ‘over my dead body.’”

  The phone line hissed for a moment as the limo passed under a highvoltage wire, then Kord heard Romulus’s low, throaty laugh. “Make it so, then,” he said. “If not dead, then at least nearly so. All obstacles must be removed.”

  Kord waited until he was certain Romulus had finished speaking. “I’ll handle it.”

  He disconnected the call, then dropped the phone back into its leather case. He leaned back against the leather upholstery, then pressed the electronic window switch and let the balmy breezes of Washington blow over his face. Ah, America, the land of the free. Perhaps, one day, Romulus would let Kord live here.

  TWENTY-THREE

  FIVE MONTHS PASSED. THE BREEZY DAYS OF MARCH AND APRIL YIELDED TO THE calm warmth of May, June, and July, but Daniel spent little time in anything but the filtered, climate-controlled air of Prentice Technologies. To take his mind off Lauren, he dove into his work for both the American and European Millennium Projects, purposely replicating the parameters in both systems. Even if President Stedman did not want to directly affiliate the American network with the European Union’s, the Millennium Chip would still provide a common code through which all transactions could be easily monitored and recorded. Despite the president’s reluctance, Daniel still fostered the hope that the nations of the world would soon join the Millennium Project. No matter how nervous Adrian Romulus made the NSA, the man had the right idea. The world had shrunk to an amazing degree in the last few decades, and mankind needed a common language and means of trade. The Millennium Chip would provide just that.

  By July first, Prentice Technologies had supervised the production of over 600 million Millennium Chips. Manufacturers in California, Singapore, Munich, and Hong Kong had scrambled to meet Daniel’s demanding specifications, and boxes of the tiny chips were now being stored in local post offices across the United States and Europe. Newly trained data entry specialists encoded the basic data to be keyed into each individual Millennium Chip; bank account numbers, organ donor, medicalert, and health insurance information would be added at implementation time.

  Every American over the age of ten had received a notice to report to his local post office sometime between July 4 and December 31, 1999. And the inaugural implementation day had been a rousing success. On July 4, post offices across the country remained opened with extended hours so citizens could come in and receive their Millennium Chips. Hot dog stands, puppet shows, and balloon vendors lined the sidewalks, offering goodies for the children and fun for all. Several enterprising bankers set up cash receipt booths where newly-chipped clients could turn in their cash and have an equivalent amount scanned onto their Millennium storedvalue cards. Local merchants offered special discounts to those who purchased over fifty dollars of merchandise with a Millennium Card. Since the beginning of July, a host of televised public service announcements featured shots of happy shoppers grinning at the camera and assuring television audiences that the convenience of a Millennium Chip was the best thing since sliced bread.

  Even President and Mrs. Stedman had gone to a great deal of trouble to put the public’s fear to rest. The morning news shows all featured video footage of the White House staff receiving their Millennium Chips. “This tiny white bandage,” the president told a television camera as he pointed to the back of his right hand, “is a badge of honor. Everyone who participates in National Identification Day is joining us as we take a bold step into the future.”

  On Sunday morning, July 18, Daniel and Dr. Kriegel sipped coffee in Prentice Technology’s company cafeteria. They’d just put in an all-nighter double-checking their subcontractors’ delivery dates for the latest European Millennium Chip shipments. Daniel wanted to be certain Adrian Romulus and his fellow European commissioners would have the required number of chips on July 22, the day they were now calling “the birthday of one Europe.” Though the sheer number of Millennium Chips required that they be distributed over a six-month period, early reports indicated that Europeans would follow the Americans’ example and rush to receive their implants. Polls indicated that the only individuals resisting the idea of a convenient identification chip were those who called themselves “born-again Christians.”

  Daniel felt a wry smile creep over his face as he thought of his mother. She would definitely be among the resistant group, but she had been wary of her debit card and the Internet, too . . . until Daniel had demonstrated and explained their convenience. In the same way, time and education would convince all but the most radical Christian holdouts. After all, there was nothing in the law that required an individual to be microchipped. But if a man or woman wanted to work, go to a hospital, receive any sort of government benefits, or shop, he or she would have to be implanted with a Millennium Chip.

  Satisfied that the Millennium Project was safely on course, the professor’s conversation turned to the Millennium Code program. The Y2K fix for First Manhattan had been finished since March, and the bank’s final installment payment had just been sent to Prentice
Technology’s accounting department. Dr. Kriegel assured Daniel that the bank considered their $400 million well spent. “Their mainframes are now up to speed for the Millennium Network,” he explained as Daniel sipped his coffee. “First Manhattan is miles ahead of their competition.”

  Daniel put down his coffee cup and nodded, only half-listening. A CNN report whispered from the wall-mounted television in the corner of the room, and Daniel couldn’t help but notice that the camera was trained on the front of the White House. The president and first lady walked under the portico and waved to the cameras, then Mrs. Stedman gracefully took a seat in the back of the black limo and tucked her legs out of sight. The president paused to wave at a crowd well beyond the barriers outside the White House grounds, then Daniel’s heart lurched when he saw Lauren step forward and tug at the president’s sleeve.

  Daniel felt his mouth go dry. He hadn’t seen her in five months, but every day he had debated whether or not he should pick up the phone, call her, and confess whatever had offended her—he’d admit anything as long as she said she wanted to see him again. He didn’t know exactly what had driven the wedge between them, but it had all begun the day they visited that small church and he told her about Adrian Romulus’s offer.

  The CNN White House reporter was speaking to the camera now, and Daniel interrupted the professor’s rambling by putting his hand on the doctor’s arm. “Hold that thought, will you, Professor? I’d like to listen to this.”