Those of nefarious intent who somehow braved the swimming or sailing effort required to cross the moat in lieu of using the bridge would encounter the next barrier: massive walls that sloped outward, away from their base and toward the outside world. The walls were formed of a composite material designed to resist penetration by rappelling pitons. The surfaces were coated with a slick substance that made a suction-based approach to ascending the walls similarly impossible. Crews were testing the surface even now, and Hope winced as a man atop the wall leaned over to test the slickness… and lost his balance.
Thankfully, his safety rope was anchored on the other side of the wall. His efforts to try to climb back up were futile, his feet slipping and sliding against the slick surface, and he was forced to pull himself up by hand.
Will glanced at Hope. “I guess the slick coating works, doesn’t it?”
She laughed, and then frowned. “What’s to prevent someone from shooting a rope and piton over the wall into something not built of that material, and not covered with the slick stuff, and then pulling themselves up and over, just like that man is doing now?”
They walked over the bridge, hand in hand, imagining the sound of the water once the moat was filled. As they walked, Will pointed to where crews were using jackhammers to drill holes into the top of the wall. “See that? Those holes will be used to support a fence of barbed wire. This is a specialty grade of wire, incredibly sharp. A rope or cable shot high enough to do what you’ve described would be cut in half by the wire before a climber made it very far. They’d just fall into the moat. No threat.”
“What if they use a cable?”
“We tested the barbed wire we’re installing against a steel cable three inches thick. It cut through the cable in about three minutes with fifty pounds of pressure applied. Anyone attempting to climb the wall will weigh more than that; especially given the equipment they’d need to carry with them. And none of those climbers would be able to climb the wall fast enough to avoid having their cable sliced in half.” A devilish look crossed his face. “And even if they did? They’d have to get over the wire when they reached the top. A wire with that much cutting ability isn’t going to struggle with clothing.” He paused. “Or skin.”
Hope wrinkled her face. “That’s barbaric.”
“It’s a deterrent. We’ll very publicly announce some of the defenses this community possesses, and note that we’ve not told the public about all of them. Or the worst of them.”
Will stopped them before they passed through the single gap in the walls. He pointed to his left. “We’ll have two people on duty at all times here at the entrance controlling access. One person will sit in that building around the clock. The construction materials are resistant to flame and heavily reinforced, and the glass itself is bulletproof. If they confirm that the person looking to get in is a resident or an approved visitor, they’ll open one of the gates, depending on whether the person is on foot or in a car. They’ll be called guards, though they’d be powerless against anyone with a weapon who got inside. That’s why we’re making sure nobody gets that chance.”
Hope nodded; she’d watched the videos of Will’s memories of this complex so often that this construction tour was giving her a profound sense of deja vu. She glanced to her right. “What’s that for?” She pointed to the tower rising forty feet off the ground. “I’m guessing it’s not just for decoration.”
Will smiled and nodded. “Another guard—” he wrinkled his nose “—will be stationed in the watch tower around the clock. That guard will scan the perimeter of the community, watching for anyone trying to breach the exterior defenses, and will notify the local police if he spots suspicious activity. The tower guard will also act as the backup to the guard in the ground level station to our left. If the station guard has to leave for any reason, they must wait until the tower guard relieves them. The primary job they have is making sure people who are authorized get in and out in an efficient manner; that’s why the ground level station must be occupied at all times.”
Hope thought about that, and nodded. It seemed logical, and would work—until the Hunters and Assassin arrived. This system hadn’t been designed with men like that in mind.
The moved through the opening and into the community. “What type of gates are they going to install here? Wrought iron?”
Will grinned. “We just walked over the main gate.”
Hope stopped and looked around, consciously avoiding looking at the ground. She’d professed no interest in the details of the access and security processes into the community, preferring instead to focus on the final design and furnishing of their future home. She’d thus have no way of knowing where to look for a gate that wasn’t currently visible. “What? Where is it?”
Will pointed at the ground. “The gate is a steel and concrete slab that can be lowered into the ground and driven over. A car arrives at the gate and stops at a kiosk—like an automated teller machine—with biometric scanners used to identify them definitively to the guards.”
“Bio… what? What are those?”
“They’re machines that can scan parts of your body to guarantee that you are, in fact, you.”
“What?” Hope asked, startled.
“Er… sorry, that sounded worse than I intended. In this case, one scanner will read your palm print and another will read your retina. If they match the prints stored in the computer and the guards have no reason to think anything’s wrong, then the guard in the lower station will open the gate.”
Hope chewed her bottom lip. “The visual inspection from the guard is in case someone… unfriendly is in the car?”
Will nodded. “Exactly.”
Crews were clearing narrow strips of ground in paths leading off from the main drive into the community. The paths would serve as long driveways leading to the five individual home sites. Each site would be isolated; construction had been planned so as to leave the great majority of the large old trees in place, adding to the sense of seclusion that residents of this community would tend to prefer. Each homeowner would be responsible for overseeing the construction of their home, including coordinating the entry and egress of the crews performing the work once the security systems were installed and operational.
Will led Hope toward a handful of electric golf carts and the couple climbed aboard the first vehicle. Maynard stood on the back, ever mindful of potential threats to the couple in his charge. Will pressed the pedal, and the cart moved silently forward, crunching the gravel as it rolled. A construction crew worked on defining the boundaries for the gravel driveway that would lead to their future home, and Will swerved off the path. The cart switched from crunchy gravel to silent grass to the slurping sounds of the mud lining the well-worn path the remainder of the way to the home site.
The foundation had been poured for the full basement, a level they’d agreed to finish immediately as a prime area for entertaining in their home. The first floor would include an office for Hope, general living space, the dining room, a library, and the kitchen. The upper floor would include a master suite, an office for Will, and three additional bedrooms… rooms they hoped to fill with children in the coming years.
That plan for the upper floor filled Hope with sadness. She wanted to tell Will that the extra upstairs rooms were unnecessary, that the extensive planning to align the rooms with just the right layout for the expected foot traffic patterns, the attention to detail for the various accessories… all of that was just a waste of time. She wanted to tell him that in just a few years, the entire house be no more than a pile of ash.
In the end, though, she’d realized it was anything but a waste of time. The house represented their idealized view of the future, a future in which they’d have several children running around the house, laughing, full of joy, a future in which they’d have the opportunity to entertain friends in this house that was so very much their own. Did it matter that Hope knew the entire structure would be vaporized in less than a decade? Did
it matter that she knew that only one of those children’s rooms would ever be needed, that they’d spend far less time entertaining in the home than they’d ever expect at this point in their lives, or that their neighbors would be anti-social—at least on the surface? The dream of living the ideal their house represented, however fleeting, made it all worthwhile, and keeping alive the belief that everything would work out just fine, despite extensive video evidence to the contrary, was critical in playing her role in the entire production.
The work crews were beginning to frame the exterior of the upper levels, measuring and cutting the fresh timber, lining the pieces together, fastening the joists and the wooden ribs for the interior of the house together in a symphony of sounds and the faint odor of burning wood. Hope found the process mesmerizing, and stood, watching, as the crew wrestled the first skeleton of a wall atop the plywood flooring. Hammers and nail guns erupted into a cacophony of violence, fixing the wall in place.
Will was watching her when she finally turned to look at him. “What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s amazing, far more than I ever expected growing up.” Until Will had arrived in the North Village a thousand years earlier, the idea that she’d find true love and live a life of perfect health and incredible wealth would have seemed preposterous. And yet here she was, watching the construction of a home larger than all of the buildings in that original Village combined… all just for her and Will. The sheer massiveness of the project, though, paled in comparative importance to the emotion she sensed from the man next to her, emotion that told her that all that mattered was her happiness. That was the man who’d risk his life traversing into the unknown, who’d travel through time and live a thousand years, all to give those he loved a chance to live.
That was what this represented to him. And that was why it was so important to her.
Will watched the work crews in silence. “I’ve always been impressed by people who work with their hands,” he remarked. “The ability to take raw materials, like a pile of wood, and use your hands to mold it and shape it into something like a house… it’s such an amazing talent. It’s a talent I wish I had.”
“Really?” she asked, surprised. “You think you’d enjoy something like that?”
He nodded. “I wanted to take carpentry classes when I was growing up, but my parents refused. Didn’t want me chopping off a finger, they said. So I picked up a wooden bat instead and played baseball.” Will had a love affair with the game of baseball, and had played much of his life. The baseball diamond was a place where he felt he belonged, and it had been a place away from the emotional staleness inside his family’s home during his childhood. He’d played through high school, even after his parents died, always using that wooden bat, until a freak collision had left tendons in his knee in shreds. By the time he’d recovered, the college scholarships dangled before him earlier had been withdrawn, and the orphan had moved on to the workforce.
It had all worked out for the best.
“You should put a batting cage in the back yard,” Hope said. “Teach our children about the game you love.”
A sheepish grin covered his face. “I, ah, already ordered one.”
She smacked his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just ordered it yesterday.”
“Oh.” She turned back to the house, watching as the framing crew hoisted the skeleton of the rear wall of the house into place and began attaching it to the plywood flooring. “This process impresses me, too. I wonder if the approach to building houses will ever change?”
“It changes all the time,” Will replied. “The company we bought last month, though? Nanoscience? I think that what they do will give us the next evolutionary leap in construction.”
“What do they do again?”
“The produce nanoparticles.” At Hope’s puzzled look, Will explained further. “They’re basically little machines, smaller than our cells. Nanoscience has been perfecting a process to teach those particles how to join together in patterns. Because the nanoparticles are so small, it takes an unfathomably large number of them to produce something physical and tangible, like a wall. What they’ve found is that because those building blocks are so small, because there are so many connections holding the surfaces together, the building materials they can produce are both lighter and stronger than anything else out there today. That’s a big leap forward in construction. But when they add more intelligence to those tiny machines, teach them to recognize gaps in programmed patterns? They can do repairs by adding batches of new nanoparticles to a surface, and gouges and holes will fill in, almost like magic.” He thought for a moment. “They showed me a demonstration in their research lab when I went to visit before buying the company. The lead researcher, a man named David, asked me to look at and walk over a platform. I did; there was nothing on that platform. He had me push a button to start the demonstration. Nothing seemed to happen, but as I watched, I thought I saw bits of dust on the platform. The dust moved, all toward the middle of the platform. And then that dust piled on top of itself, and more of it came out of nowhere, and ten minutes later, there was a wall there, six inches thick, five feet wide, and five feet high. I touched it, and it was solid. I kicked it… and it hurt.” He grimaced. “They told me that the approach they’re creating will be the next step beyond 3D printing, because you don’t need a printer. Size is no longer a limitation. With enough of the nanoparticles, and the right design program, you could literally create a house in a few hours.” His face glowed with excitement. “That is the next evolution in construction.”
His enthusiasm was contagious, and Hope couldn’t help smiling. “And that’s why you bought them?”
He nodded. “They were running low on capital, and I think it’s a technology we need to explore. They’re looking into medical uses as well, turning those tiny particles into robots that can go inside our bodies, find diseased cells, and either deliver medications directly into the sick cells… or, if they’re cancerous, destroy them. Think about it, Hope. A cure for cancer that’s far more reliable, less expensive, and less traumatic than anything available today. I want them to succeed. Humanity needs them to succeed. We have the cash to invest to keep their efforts going until they finish what they started. I’ve worked with Ashley Farmer before; she’s a shrewd businesswoman, no frills, all focus. It was a no brainer.”
“It sounds like it will provide a nice return on your investment,” Hope remarked, watching as the crew lifted another wall into place.
“It might make us some money,” Will agreed. “The health benefits of that technology are staggering. With enough time and research, they might be able to prevent a huge number of diseases by enhancing our natural immune systems with the devices. People will live healthier, longer lives. Can you imagine that, Hope?”
She could do far more than just imagine living a longer, healthier life. Not for the first time, Hope longed to tell “Young Will” the truth. “It’s hard to comprehend all of it, but the potential uses sound nothing short of amazing.”
“There are other possibilities for nanoparticle-based construction,” Will remarked. The sounds of pneumatic hammers filled the air, as crews rushed to get the final first floor wall in place by nightfall. “Buildings could be of any shape. Roads could be repaired by simply driving over the surface and allowing new particles to replace those scraped away. There’d be no need to shut down highways for weeks or months on end. Buildings could even be programmed to change shape and color without expensive remodeling projects.” He shook his head. “The ramifications of this are phenomenal. If these particles, these little machines, can be produced in bulk at low cost… just, wow.”
Hope turned and looked at the city in the distance. “Think of what it could mean to a city like Pleasanton. A local company helps completely rebuild the entire city center in a manner that requires little ongoing expense for upkeep, modernizing the skyline and bringing in investment beyond even what the great Will Stark
can provide on his own.” Will looked horrified at being called great… until she winked at him. “And you could build something unique there, something that really puts the city on the map, that becomes the city’s calling card, because you can build in any shape. St. Louis has the Arch; you can build something here that everyone will remember.”
He nodded, thoughtful. “What would you do? What would you build there that’s unique?”
She thought for a moment. “When I was younger, I remember seeing those little snow globes. Have you seen them? It’s a small, clear plastic globe, with a wintry scene depicted inside. If you shake the globe, little flakes inside get stirred up and float back down to the bottom of the globe. It looks like it’s snowing, like there’s a dome covering the house or the little village depicted inside. It looks like the dome is making the snow.”
“A dome-covered, weather-controlled city?” Will asked, arching an eyebrow. “That sounds impossible, Hope.”
Hope grinned. “Impossible? That word has no meaning to me.”
Will laughed. “Fine, then. If we ever get the chance, we’ll build a domed city with weather control. Think that’s possible?”
Hope thought of the Cavern, and smiled. “If you’re involved, Will? Anything’s possible.”
●●●
Fewer than one hundred guests attended the wedding ceremony the next day. The guest list included Hope’s friends and Will’s business associates.
Neither the bride nor the groom had any family in attendance.
Social media and tabloid articles had proliferated leading up to the wedding. The story of an orphaned bachelor multi-billionaire marrying a woman who couldn’t legally drink champagne at her own wedding provided all manner of fodder for gossip columnists and comedians. Hope was viewed as an opportunist, a gold-digger seeking to take advantage of a lonely man. Will was savaged for marrying one so young, for “robbing the cradle,” a comment which never failed to amuse Hope.
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