The Babel Tower

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The Babel Tower Page 21

by J. B. Simmons


  “You’re saying the bird is my code?” Jax asked.

  “No, it’s not that simple.”

  “The bird is you,” Katarina said.

  Liz met her assistant’s big, dark eyes. She couldn’t say too much. She just needed to put her opponent on edge. “The IPO is just a few days away. I know it’s a tense time. Everyone’s trying to figure out whether I’ll sell my shares, and how much I’ll sell.”

  “And?” Katarina asked.

  “You both care about Babel. That’s why I brought you up here together. I’ve decided to sell all of it. I want to finish my tower and stay here.”

  “Why?” Jax asked. “Keep some of your shares. You own over half the company. If you sell, who knows who will gain control?”

  “Katarina knows.”

  Katarina didn’t deny it. She kept her eyes on Liz, studying her as she spoke. “The sovereign wealth fund of Dubai has arranged to purchase Liz’s shares. The only question was how much. And now we know. You’re going to sell everything?”

  Liz nodded. “I will receive the funds in advance. Four billion dollars.”

  “You can’t…” Jax was shaking his head. “You could lose control over the data.”

  “It’s a risk,” Liz said. “But that’s what it takes to finish this tower, and we’ll still have the code.”

  “For now.” Jax’s voice was rising. “You can’t do this.”

  “I have to.”

  Katarina’s lips had parted, turning up into a hungry smile. “It’s for the good. We can’t keep the data locked up forever. It can change the world.”

  Which is why I can’t let it happen. Liz wanted to tell Jax more, but he hardly deserved the truth after he’d hidden who Hunter was all these months.

  “So the data is the bird,” Katarina said.

  “Maybe,” Liz replied. “It’s complicated.” She stepped away from the column, back toward the stairwell. Katarina and Jax followed. “You know, we can’t say anything publicly about this until after the IPO. SEC rules, right?”

  Katarina nodded.

  “To make it easier, I’m going to start staying in the tower. It’s a safe place. No reporters. No investors.” Liz pulled open the door to the stairs. She motioned for Katarina and Jax to go ahead. “Tonight I’ll sleep on the hundredth floor. It’s the highest floor with finished glass walls. Katarina, have someone send up a bed and some things.”

  “But…”

  Liz smiled. “It’s just a few days. The plumbing and the wireless are working. I’ll be fine.”

  “What about the rest of today’s meetings?” Katarina asked. “And tomorrow we’re supposed to be back in San Francisco.”

  “I know. But you’ll be CEO soon,” Liz said. “You might as well handle the meetings. If there’s an emergency, you’ll know where to find me.”

  Katarina nodded. “We’ll take care of it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Katarina started down the stairs. Jax followed, but turned back.

  “Why?” he said softly.

  Liz clasped his shoulder, looked down into his familiar eyes. Pain swelled up in her. He’d been with her so long, but she’d made a promise. She’d finish this tower no matter what—even if it meant leaving behind everything, even him. “Time will tell,” she said.

  Jax shook his head, confused, then turned to begin the long descent.

  In the hours that followed, Liz found her way to the hundredth floor and began to settle in. An assistant brought up a table, a computer, a bed, and the other things she needed. Liz lost hours in the flow of work before a screen. No disruptions came.

  It was night when Liz finally let herself unplug. She leaned back and let her neck fall over the back of her chair, staring at the ceiling. The unfinished concrete had spray-painted blue lines and figures, showing where bolts and pipes would connect. She heard the distant thrum of work on floors high above, but here it was quiet.

  She looked again at the screen. The glow of it, bright pixels emanating into the empty floor, made her shudder. She was tiring of screens. The billions of configured 0s and 1s fed her snippets of delight—news about her marvelous success, about the tower, and about the ever-rising share price of Babel—but tonight the coded patterns began to feel cold, impersonal. They were no substitute for human connection.

  Liz rose and walked to the wall of glass. Night was so different here than in the city. There were no lights in surrounding buildings, no sounds from the streets. The only things defending against the pitch-black moonless sky and pool of darkness where the land must be below were the stars and the lights of the construction.

  And one other light, burning brightly but further away. Liz leaned closer to the glass. It was a fire near the Conrad farm. It looked like the bonfire that she had stood beside with Jake. She imagined him there now, looking beyond the fire, toward the tower and her.

  She pressed her forehead to the window. The surface was perfectly smooth and lifeless. She imagined the feel of Jake’s hand. Strong and warm, but surprisingly gentle. Deep emotion she scarcely recognized rose up in her, overcoming her loneliness, and extending out in longing like a pier reaching far into the ocean.

  She had reached the end of the pier. Her company was thriving and the tower was nearly finished. She had set the trap to stop Katarina. Now what? Would she stay high in this tower, relishing the generalized adoration of the world and lacking the unique love of one person?

  The prince had been right. There was so much loneliness here, at the top.

  She longed to be with Jake.

  But what was she even considering? What would it look like? Could she abandon all that she had worked so hard for just to be with a farmer? As she looked on the tiny dot of his bonfire, it swelled in her vision and her answer was shockingly clear and immediate. Yes, I could.

  She wanted rest from the tower and the world, and she had seen where to find that rest, with him. Jake could lead her into it, his steady hand leading her.

  She wanted that. But she couldn’t. She stepped back from the glass and turned reluctantly to the glow of pixels. She still owed it to Daddy to see this through. To herself. To Jax, to every employee of Babel, to everyone who believed in what could be done in this Tower.

  She threw her shoulders back, and lifted her weary head by force of will. Only she could do it. She had to keep going. She had to do this.

  51

  Rachel was slicing strawberries in the kitchen when her phone rang. It vibrated on the counter, and the name on the screen was a surprise. Jax had never called her before. She hadn’t heard from Liz or any of the others since the last phone call about Jake.

  She wiped her hands off on her apron, leaving faint red lines. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Rachel. It’s Jax.”

  “Hey.”

  “Sorry this is out of the blue, but I’d like to talk to you.” He paused. “Can I come over?”

  “To my house?”

  “Yeah.”

  “When?”

  “Now.”

  Rachel glanced around the kitchen. The kids were playing in the other room, but it would be time for naps soon. “You’re in Chicago?”

  “Business meetings. They finished early.”

  “You could have given me a little warning.”

  “This is important.”

  “So important that you waited until the last minute? I could have been gone.”

  “You don’t travel much anymore.”

  His words burrowed under her skin. She couldn’t deny it, and she shouldn’t have to defend it. “You can come over. You have the address?”

  “Yes. See you in twenty minutes.”

  “See you soon.”

  Rachel hung up and looked in the mirror. She slipped the apron over her head. She still looked awful. Unwashed hair. Jeans and a shirt with spit-up stains. She spent the next twenty minutes cleaning like a whirlwind.

  By the time Jax knocked, the kids were settling down for naps and at least the living room didn’t
have toys on the floor. She’d have to keep him out of the kitchen.

  Rachel opened the door. Jax was there, looking small. Instinct made her glance past him, as if someone would be watching or suspicious of him entering. She saw no one.

  “Hey Jax. Come on in.”

  “Thanks. Good to see you.”

  They stepped into a cramped living room. Jax sank into the well-worn cushions while Rachel poured tea. Evidence of kids was everywhere. Pictures on the walls, a basket full of pink and blue balls, and a bookshelf full of garish children’s scribbles and colors.

  “How’s the family?” Jax asked.

  Rachel sat across from him—the man whose code had taken her best friend…not that it still bothered her. “We’re good.” Rachel’s voice came out clipped. “Just got the little ones down for a nap. Never a dull moment.”

  “Glad to hear it. And Paul?”

  “He’s fine. Working hard.”

  “And you?”

  “Why are you here, Jax?”

  “I know you and Liz aren’t talking.” He paused, as if waiting for her to respond. She didn’t. “Well, now she’s excluding all of us in one way or another.”

  “Even Dylan?” Rachel asked.

  Jax nodded stoically. “She’s really gone manic about this tower. She found her father’s design, and she’s been building it.”

  “I’ve seen the news, and the show.”

  “Right.” He paused, obviously mulling something. “Listen, what’s the one thing that Liz has never done, unlike pretty much every other woman?”

  Rachel couldn’t remember Jax ever being so serious. “It’s been a long time since she lost her confidence.”

  Jax smiled. “Right, she’s not one to doubt herself.” He glanced past Rachel, to the pictures on the wall behind her. “You and Paul chose a different life. I’m not here to question that. But think about it. Why didn’t you stay with Babel? Make a fortune?”

  “Paul wanted to stay in Chicago, close to our families.”

  “Yes. Why? And why did you stay with him?”

  “Because I love him… What’s your point?”

  Jax studied his cup of tea as he spoke. “I’ve always loved Liz in my way. So has Dylan, and Owen probably did too.”

  They fell silent.

  “He was a bright soul,” Rachel said.

  “We miss him.” Jax’s eyes were on the floor. “Liz hasn’t been the same since he died. It’s like she’s losing it. And now she’s cooped up in the tower, alone.” Jax looked up and met Rachel’s eyes. “Anyway, here’s the point: Liz never really loved us back. Ever since her mom died, has she loved anyone?”

  “Her dad.”

  “Anyone living?”

  “She loves herself.” Rachel didn’t mean to sound harsh, but she felt the old anger swelling up. It didn’t surprise her that Liz would hole up in the tower, claiming the murder as her own personal mark of tragedy, Owen’s death like another merit badge.

  “Well, I think she’s starting to love someone.”

  Rachel set her tea on the table, hands folded in her lap. She remembered her only brief call with Liz weeks ago. Could it be Jake? “I’m not sure Liz knows how to love.”

  “Harsh.”

  “The truth can be that way. Liz won’t give up her own independence.”

  “Yeah, she’d probably give us up before that.”

  Rachel met Jax’s eyes calmly. “People lose their way when they lose their community. We weren’t meant to be alone. We become like unanchored boats in the middle of the ocean.” She paused. “Who’s the guy?”

  “He’s not what you would expect. He’s a farmer…”

  “So it’s my cousin, Jake?”

  “How do you…?”

  “Owen told me about him. Didn’t he tell you we’re cousins?”

  Jax shook his head.

  “He probably didn’t think it was relevant, but it is. I can see why Liz likes him. They’re both stubborn as it gets.”

  “Well she’s been acting weird ever since she met him,” Jax said. “Now she’s agreed to sell all her shares in Babel. Soon she’ll even step down as CEO.”

  “Good. I’ve been telling her to do that for years.”

  Jax shook his head. “Not good. Can you imagine if Babel fell into dangerous hands? I didn’t write a translation code so that the world’s conversations would be eavesdropped. People are after it. I think it’s why someone killed Owen. And my best engineer, Veruca, disappeared for two whole days. The police think she may have been kidnapped. She wasn’t hurt, but she didn’t remember anything about what happened. She must have been drugged or something. She knew things that I wouldn’t want others to know…”

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  Jax shrugged. “I’m nervous. I don’t know what to do, and I’m worried about Liz. She’s not leaving the tower anymore. She’s letting her hair grow longer. She’s even stopped color-coordinating her shirts with the day of the week.”

  “Wow, she’d been doing that for over a decade.”

  “I’m telling you, this is a problem. She needs to get focused on the real threats. You’re the only one she trusts to tell the truth, the brutal honest truth.”

  “She won’t listen to me anymore.”

  “But your cousin will. He’s religious, like you. Talk to him. Make him understand how Liz ticks, how she keeps coming to him just because he’s a challenge. Convince him to sell his land, to get away from her.”

  Rachel sipped her tea, thinking.

  “I think she’s losing it,” Jax added. “You still care about her, right?”

  “Of course. I mean, we’re not in each other’s lives anymore, but I could talk to Jake.”

  “Great, that’s all I’m asking. As long as he’s near the tower, she can’t seem to focus. She needs to get her attention back on the company and the data.”

  And on you, Rachel thought. She had her doubts about Jax’s motives, but she agreed Liz needed help—and Jake probably did, too. She had considered visiting for her grandfather’s ninetieth birthday anyway.

  “Okay,” she said, “I’ll pay him a visit.”

  52

  Tomorrow Dylan would be worth hundreds of millions. From the moment Babel went public, he could sell his founders’ shares and rake in cash like he’d never dreamed. He could buy a mansion in Palo Alto, a new Ferrari, a year in a Spanish villa, whatever.

  He didn’t care. He felt terrible.

  Liz had called him for another meeting. This time in the tower. This time probably worse. He watched the elevator’s numbers flashing upwards—100-101-102-103… It was incredible. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was something amazing about rising this high above the earth’s surface.

  The elevator stopped. Floor 120. When he stepped out, Liz was waiting for him. Her blonde hair was longer than he’d ever seen it. She wore a black V-neck t-shirt. Black was not a color in her weekly rotation.

  “You’re late,” she said, hand on her hip.

  “It’s a long elevator ride.”

  She laughed and led him to two low chairs by the edge of the floor. Glass walls revealed a brilliant view. The sun was low on the horizon. The land flat as a pancake, and just as golden brown.

  A small table sat between the two chairs. It held a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a tray of cheeses.

  “Is this a date?” Dylan asked as he sat.

  Liz shrugged, fell into the seat beside him. Her legs crossed and her shoulders fell back. He hadn’t seen her this relaxed in years. “Katarina picked the cheeses,” she said.

  Dylan swallowed, but kept his cool. “What kinds?”

  “Who knows? Let’s try them. Think they’ll be poisoned?”

  Dylan forced himself to play it cool. “Still think she’s a Russian spy?”

  “If so, I guess this is like Russian roulette. You try first.”

  Dylan eyed the three blocks of cheese. One had marbled blue, one was flaky white, the other yellow. “Seriously
?”

  She poured the red wine into his glass. “This is a cabernet from Napa. Should pair nicely. And yes, seriously.”

  No way any of them were poisoned. Liz had to be joking. Dylan decided to go with the yellow cheese. It was cheddar, probably American. He sliced off a piece, put it in his mouth. Tasted good.

  Liz watched him calmly as he chewed, her face blank.

  “Now the wine,” she said.

  He drank. “Not bad. A bit fruit-forward. Your turn.”

  Liz looked down to the cheeses. “I figure Katarina wants you dead more than me. She needs me, seeing as I’m the one who can access the data. Not sure she ever really needed you. Either way, no one poisons bleu cheese.”

  She pulled off a chunk and dropped it into her mouth. Then she brought the glass to her lips. “Yes, quite nice. And not—”

  Her eyes went wide.

  Her hands went to her throat.

  Dylan rushed to her side. “Lay down,” he said. “Are you okay?”

  She was silent, shaking slightly.

  “Liz? Liz!”

  She burst out laughing and Dylan fell back onto the floor. He felt ridiculous.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, still laughing. “I just couldn’t resist. I’ve never seen you so tense. So you thought Katarina would actually poison our cheese?”

  “No, I mean…” He returned to his seat, trying to act calm.

  “That’s crazy, Dylan. Unless…”

  “Unless Katarina really is a Russian spy,” Dylan finished.

  “Right. So, is she?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

  “You think this is some kind of game?” Liz asked, her eyes boring into him.

  “It’s never been a game. She just wants to make the data public, like I did.”

  “Did?”

  “Still do,” Dylan admitted. “But that’s it, I swear.”

  “You think she killed Owen?”

  “She was in San Francisco when it happened.”

  “So did she pay someone to do it?”

  “No clue.” Dylan met Liz’s gaze, but couldn’t hold it. He stood up and went to the wall of glass and started to pace, thinking about the cheese and Owen and Katarina. He’d realized that Katarina was trying to use him, to get info about the data and Liz. But did she really think he would betray his friend? No, he wouldn’t do that, but he would try to help Liz behind her back. This was bigger than them. It was for a better world. The Babel data needed to be public.

 

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