The Babel Tower

by J. B. Simmons

  Hunter nodded. “It will be sealed up tight and under constant surveillance. I’ll let you know if anyone even thinks about trying to get in.”

  Liz’s gaze turned again to the desk and the red cord, her head tilting up to trace its long line to the ceiling. When she looked back to Hunter and Jax, her face was calm and focused. She smiled and turned back down the aisle of servers.

  They made their way out of the room and up the stairs to ground level. No one said much. Jax’s thoughts were on the funds—whether and how Liz could get that much money so soon, and whether they could protect her against whatever Katarina was trying to do. At least the Babel data would stay secure.

  Once they reached the surface, Liz turned to Hunter. “You know the farmer who lives over there? The one who won’t sell his land?” Her voice was casual as she pointed to the east.

  “Yes,” he answered. “He’s not much trouble.”

  “Then why did you visit him?”

  For a moment Hunter looked surprised, but he answered plainly. “I wanted to meet the neighbors.”

  “Why?” The word left Liz’s mouth with a blast of steam in the cold air.

  “I’ve dealt with these situations before,” Hunter said. “I thought maybe I could convince them to sell, now that construction is underway with all its noise and annoyance.” The sound of clanging steel from above reinforced the point.

  “And…how did it go?”

  Hunter shrugged. “They said no.”

  Liz studied him quietly. “They? Who’d you meet other than Jake?”

  “His grandfather, Isaiah.”

  “Why did you turn off your Babel for the conversation?”

  Jax noticed a tightening around Hunter’s eyes. Liz must have checked the data. That’s the only way she could know. That meant she could also know Jax had turned his device off—and several times exactly when Hunter or Owen had turned theirs off. Jax felt fear creeping up, and annoyance. This farmer was like a grain of sand wedged in an uncomfortable place.

  “You know these Midwesterners.” Hunter laughed. “They catch a whiff of technology and they won’t trust you. I figured I’d have a better chance if they didn’t see me wearing a Babel.”

  “But the device is almost undetectable.”

  “Almost…” Hunter said. “But folks like the Conrads pick up on these things. It’s not normal to them like it is to us.”

  “Fair enough.” Liz smiled, as if she believed him, but Jax knew better. He knew Liz was onto something, and that spelled trouble.

  39

  Liz parked by the fence and cut the engine. She felt tired. Everything had gone sour since she’d accessed the data. Dylan had confirmed some of her fears, but there was still too much she didn’t know. Jax had been more quiet than normal, like he was hiding something. Hunter Black had revealed nothing except that he’d met with Jake Conrad’s grandfather and that she needed more cash soon. Lots of cash.

  She took a deep breath and stepped out to look for any sign of Jake on the farm. He was nowhere to be seen.

  She looked down at her phone. She remembered the odd texts she’d received from some guy who called himself “the man with the tallest tower.” She felt sure it was the prince from Dubai. Owen had warned her about Katarina’s meeting with him, and his country had the tallest tower, the Burj Khalifa. Tallest for now.

  He’d offered to help. And Liz needed cash.

  She found his message and typed: Man with the tallest tower, the time has come.

  Liz looked out over the empty, frozen soil of the farm while she waited. It must get so boring here for Jake in the winter. What does he even do when it’s winter?

  The response came.

  I knew that it would. Shall we meet?

  You have $4B?

  I have far more than that. Come to London.

  When and where?

  Heathrow Emirates Admiral’s Club, Feb. 28, 5 PM Greenwich time.

  That was five days. Liz could make it. It’s a date.

  An expensive one… you will wear a naqib?

  If you wear pink.

  Done. I will have the 4b.

  See you in five days.

  Liz was breathing fast, plumes of steam rising from her mouth. She needed to collect herself. She needed rest. She turned to the car and put her Babel device and her phone inside. Technology detox.

  When she came back to the Conrad fence, she spotted Jake in the distance. He was riding a big green tractor in her direction. She climbed over the fence and walked toward him between two fields. The brown grass crackled under her feet.

  Jake stopped the tractor. He climbed down and began to approach. Their eyes stayed locked on each other until inches separated them. Neither knew that their hearts pounded like locomotives.

  “Hey Jake.”

  “I hoped you would come again.”

  Her breath caught. She hadn’t expected that response, or how much she’d like hearing it. “We’re neighbors now, aren’t we?”

  “And you’re just in time for dinner. Will you join us?”

  “I’d like that.”

  He smiled and motioned for her to follow. She fell into step beside him as they walked toward the white farmhouse. Neither of them spoke, but there was communication in their steady pace. The motion settled them into each other’s company. Liz couldn’t tell whether the rich, earthy smell was from the land or from him. Probably both.

  * * *

  Katarina was in her office in San Francisco when she received the encrypted text.

  The target is onsite.

  In moments Katarina had watched the video feed, showing Liz at the Conrad farm. She’d seen Liz texting but not the words. She’d seen her leave her devices in the car and walk toward the farm. Katarina couldn’t stifle a laugh when she saw her boss walking close beside the farmer.

  She texted back: And the other pieces?

  She’ll need the cash soon, and the trip to see the prince. The lawyer is our main threat now.

  Katarina already knew that. She and Owen had been working together on the IPO, and he had started asking too many questions. The wrong kind of questions. Katarina needed him out of the way. Her fingers hesitated over the phone, but then she typed the words: Take care of him.

  Any specifics?

  Any available means. The sooner the better.

  This was business. She was doing what had to be done.

  40

  Liz joined the Conrad family for dinner. There were five of them: Jake, his mom Beth, his sister Annie, Pops, and Grandma in a wheelchair. They crowded around a table covered with a well-worn white linen cloth. The plates had a blue toile design with farmhouse scenes. It seemed authentic and altogether foreign to Liz.

  As Jake closed his eyes to say a prayer, Liz found her hands in the grips of the grandfather to her left and the sister to her right. The bony, weathered hand held hers as tight as the young, smooth hand. Liz looked on them in wonder as they each bowed their heads, eyes closed, in this religious circle. Liz had never experienced anything quite like it. They were so sincere. It was surreal.

  Jake finished praying and met her eyes. His gaze was warm, even friendly. It made Liz feel comfortable, and she remembered how different she’d felt at her dinners with billionaires in Silicon Valley.

  “Bread?” Annie asked. Her green eyes matched the bow in her hair.

  “Yes, thanks.” Liz took a warm slice and passed it on. She did the same with the meatloaf, corn, and peas.

  The family talked about the farm and the day’s weather. Cold but sunny, not much to say. But still they chatted, light and warm, until the grandfather asked Jake, “So tell us more about your guest.”

  The family’s eyes all turned to Liz. “Miss Trammell’s the one building the tower,” Jake said, in about the same tone that he’d used to describe the day’s temperature.

  Liz put on her best smile, refusing to let Jake’s tone bother her. Could he still be so unaffected by what she was doing? “I came to give Jake ano
ther chance to consider my offer,” she said. “He’s a stubborn man.”

  The women at the table broke out in laughter. “He is that!” Jake’s mother took in Liz with a smile. She had traces of grey at the temples of her brown hair. “I’ve heard you’re no pushover, either.”

  “How so?” Liz asked.

  His sister Annie piped up. “You’re the richest woman in America. Richest woman in the world!”

  Liz smiled. It was impossible not to like the teenage girl’s energy. “And now I’m your neighbor.”

  “You wanted to buy our land?” Pops asked.

  “Yes.” Liz found it hard to believe that he didn’t know all about it. “That’s why I came before, with an offer to buy your farm at any price you name.” The older man didn’t react, but the mother’s and sister’s eyes opened wide. “Jake wouldn’t give me a price,” Liz said. “So I suggested one for him: thirty million dollars.”

  Annie dropped her fork. “You should have told us!”

  Jake shook his head. “We aren’t selling.”

  The grandfather held up his hand. All eyes turned to him. “I must tell you, Jake has the final word here. You understand?”

  Liz nodded. “But you know he should sell at the price I’m offering.”

  “You seem like a smart woman,” he said. “But smarts don’t mean much on their own.” The old man pulled out a handkerchief and coughed loudly into it. The sound was like a death rattle. Then he folded it and continued as if nothing had happened. “I’ve known a lot of folks in my life. Met them in Vietnam, in New York, in Kansas City. And I’ve never known anyone as wise as my boy, Jake.”

  Liz looked to the younger man. His beard mostly hid the touch of color in his cheeks.

  “And this is what Jake knows in his bones. When a family, heck, generations of family, pours itself into a plot of land, that land ain’t no commodity anymore. It’s a part of the family. We are who we are because of this place.” He pressed his weathered finger into the table, as if to emphasize the earth under their feet.

  “But this place is changing,” Liz said. “I think identity has more to do with your genes than your dirt.”

  The old man’s tender eyes twinkled. “It’s all that. The genes, the faith, the dirt.” He glanced around the table, coughed to clear his throat. “Let me tell you my story. Maybe that’ll help you understand.”

  Liz did not object. She was eager to learn more about him, especially after the engineer, Hunter, had admitted to meeting the old man at the farm. Something about it didn’t add up.

  “I was born on this farm in 1929,” the grandfather said, “the year of the market crash. While the country fought the Great Depression and a world war, I learned how to work the land. I chased chickens down rows of corn. I went fishing and picked fresh apples. And in the winters, I helped with firewood and other chores around the house, but mostly, I read. My mom loved books. You can still see a lot of her classics on the shelves here. They filled a farm boy like me with wanderlust.”

  “So you left?” Liz asked.

  He nodded. “My father never liked it, but my mom said I should go off to school. We didn’t have any money, but with all my reading, I got into West Point. I was one of two from Nebraska to start there in 1947. I played football. I wasn’t the biggest, but I hit hard. Second team All-American. I studied hard, too. More of the classics. While my mind went incredible places, my roots stayed planted in this Nebraska soil.

  “It was an odd time to become a soldier. The world war was over, but the military lived on. My first tour was the Korean War, leading men on the front lines. No one remembers that war anymore. But let me tell you, it was awful. There’s nothing worse than a war of attrition. Ground troops like me sat there just waiting for a night ambush or a bomb to drop on us. Anyway, I survived, and they promoted me to colonel. After that I did tours in Okinawa, Germany, and finally, Vietnam. I don’t want to talk much about that. I’ll just say I thought that if we were going to go to war, we had to go all in. I wasn’t in charge, though. It made us lose the war, and it sent me into retirement. And here I am.”

  Liz was quietly impressed. She’d forgotten how many stories came wrapped in old skin. “After all that, don’t you get bored here in the middle of nowhere?”

  The grandfather smiled. “Active minds are not easily bored. I have my family, my farm, my books.” He reached over and squeezed Annie’s arm. “And this young lady keeps me more than entertained.”

  Liz’s eyes stayed fixed on the grandfather. “You traveled the world,” she said. “Great adventures.”

  “You could say that.”

  “With what I’m offering for this land,” Liz said, keeping her voice quiet, “all of you could go around the world twenty times, then you could buy another farm.”

  Silence.

  Liz focused on the old man. “Why did you meet with Hunter Black?”

  He stayed perfectly still, except for the slightest pressing of his lips. Liz had spent enough time reading people that she detected his surprise. Apparently this wasn’t something Liz was supposed to know.

  “Hunter’s an old friend,” he said.

  “From?”

  “He fought under me in Vietnam.”

  “And you stayed in touch?”

  “As much as men like us do,” Pops said. “You picked a good man to build your tower.”

  Hunter had hidden this from her. He’d said that his visit to the Conrads was just about the land, about meeting the neighbors. But he knew this old man. He’d fought in Vietnam and worked in Tehran and…Moscow. The pieces were coming together.

  Liz glanced around at the table, thinking, as the rest of the family watched her quietly. Even Jake seemed mildly surprised.

  Liz turned back to the grandfather. He knew more than he was saying. “I have reason to believe that Hunter is more than just an engineer. Am I right?”

  “Yes.” The old man shrugged. “All I know is that dangerous people are interested in you, but good people are on your side. Hunter is a good one. He’s an honest American.”

  “He didn’t tell me knew you.” Liz leaned forward. “He said he came here just to try to get you to sell your land.”

  “That’s true,” the grandfather said. “He warned me that something was going on and told me I should sell the land and get my family away from here. But he didn’t tell me more.”

  “Who does he work for?”

  “You.”

  “And?”

  The grandfather smiled. “That’s all I know. But I’ll tell you this, connections with the government don’t just go away. Hunter served with me in some rough places over the years. He’s proved himself reliable.”

  Liz studied the old man, considering his words. She believed him, and it mostly made sense. If Hunter was a friend from years back, he’d warn the Conrads but wouldn’t need to tell them the details. They’d be safer if they didn’t know. But that still didn’t explain why Hunter thought they should sell their land, or why the grandfather had refused.

  “So you’ve gotten some kind of warning, but you still won’t sell your land?” Liz asked, wondering what Hunter could have meant. Was someone plotting to blow up the tower or something? “Don’t you believe what Hunter told you?”

  “All he said was there’s a risk. But I think it’s about your tower, not us. There’s no reason for anyone to bother with our little farm. We’re not giving up this land.”

  “If someone tries to hurt my tower, you might get caught in the way. Aren’t you afraid of that?”

  “Everyone’s afraid of something,” Pops said. “We don’t let fears make our decisions for us.”

  Liz caught Jake’s eyes, and a feeling of concern washed over her. “Look, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because of me. I can buy you land somewhere safe, somewhere further away. Please consider it.”

  Jake met her gaze evenly but didn’t speak. His grandfather did. “Tell me, Liz, how did you become a woman who can’t accept no for an answ
er?”

  Liz blushed.

  “She’s from Silicon Valley,” Jake said, after being quiet for so long. “Those people think they can control everything.”

  “No,” the grandfather said, eyes still on Liz. “It was before that. Everyone’s naked and poor when they’re born. Then things start to change. Annie said your last name is Trammell. What were your parents’ names?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It always matters.”

  “My father was an architect. His name was Reg Trammell.”

  “Was. So he’s passed away?”

  “Twelve years ago.”

  “Sorry to hear that. I knew him. Bright boy.”

  Liz swallowed, her throat tightening. “You knew him?”

  “Beth told me you had some family from these parts. There’s only one Trammell family I’ve known. And only one boy named Reg. No one like him since.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He used to come over, play with my son, Titus.”

  “You mean…” Liz’s palms had found their way to the table, seeking something stable. “Jake’s father and…mine?”

  “Yes ma’am. They’d hunt salamanders in the river, chase the chickens, and pick apples out of my orchard. They were good boys. In the evenings we started to see that your dad was different.”

  “What do you mean?” Liz didn’t try to hide her curiosity. Rachel had been her only link back to Nebraska, back to her time here. She was even related to the Conrads. But this old man had met her dad.

  “We kept a lot of books here.” He looked at his wife, whose eyes were closed. She hadn’t spoken a word. His voice rose. “You remember that Betty? All the books?”

  She nodded without opening her eyes.

  “Well,” he continued, “when your dad laid eyes on ’em, he looked like most boys in a candy story. He started staying around more. I’d catch him reading in the middle of the night. He’d been through everything we had in about a year. He stopped coming soon after that.”