by Jacob Whaler
“There are a few things we need to explain to you, Ricky. Sorry, but we didn’t have much time till now.” Jedd motions to Qaara. "Be my guest.”
Qaara proceeds to tell Ricky about the Cloud in space and the killer molecule and the acid.
By the end of her explanation, Ricky’s eyes are wide. He shakes his head. “Why didn’t you tell me before? How do you know any of this is true?"
“It’s all on a memory crystal Mercer gave me. He’s keeping it a big secret. We’ve got to do whatever it takes to tell the world.” Qaara lets the rope strand drop from her fingers. “Imagine what will happen when all the structures in the world are coated in that kind of acid.”
Ricky swallows. “The end of civilization.”
“The end of everything,” Qaara says. “Except for Mercer. He’s got a material that withstands the acid, and he’s constructed a large compound in Japan stocked with food, technology, everything he needs to preserve civilization. And he’s going to make it available to a few thousand lucky people he's chosen. Anyone not on his list will die.”
“What’s the point?” Ricky says. “There won't be anything left once the killer molecule does its work, right?”
“Not quite.” Qaara stands and walks to the tent flap, closing it tighter. “The killer molecule eventually burns itself out. What it leaves behind is nothing short of incredible."
Jedd and Ricky sit in silence, waiting for her to continue.
“All the dissolved matter turns into a sort of biological stew that recombines into something new. Something alive.” Qaara turns from the tent flap to face them. "It’s called the Last Universal Common Ancestor. The LUCA. The precursor to all life. Evolution starts over. But Mercer isn’t going to wait another three billion years for that to happen. He's going to try to beat the system. His compound is stocked with basic groups of plants and animals.”
“Like Noah’s ark?” Jedd says.
“Same concept. Billions will die. Only Mercer and his chosen few will survive. They will quite literally inherit a new Earth all their own.”
“So,” Jedd says, “I’ve got a tiny little question. If the killer molecule is going to destroy every living creature not in Mercer’s compound, what can we possibly do? What’s the point of even trying if we’re all going to be dead in a few days?"
“Maybe not every living creature will be destroyed. And there’s no need for all the humans outside of Mercer’s complex to be destroyed either.” Qaara paces the short length of the tent. “We don’t know how the oceans will be affected. Maybe the water will dilute the toxin enough so that it doesn’t kill all marine life. And then there are all the ways that humans might be able escape.”
“I don’t understand,” Jedd says.
“Think about it. The acid ate through 200 feet of bedrock, but what if someone was in a mine thousands of feet below the surface? What if you were in a submarine resting on the bottom of the Marianna Trench in the Pacific Ocean when this all hit? The point is, there may be ways for some people to escape the destruction. The world needs to know about it. All the information Mercer has been hoarding needs to be released to the public on the Mesh where it can get some attention. But that’s only going to happen if we do it in a way that Mercer can’t control.”
Jedd nods. “And the sooner we give the world notice, the sooner people can get to work on survival plans.”
“OK. Now I get it. Access to the Mesh is key.” Ricky stands and joins Qaara in the middle of the tent. “Too bad Moses took my jax. I don't suppose either of you have yours, do you?”
Qaara and Jedd both shake their heads.
“We couldn’t access the Mesh from here anyway. It’s too far away from any Mesh-hubs. The bottom line is clear. We have two choices." Ricky extends his thumb. “Choice number one, escape Moses and the Family, steal the gyropods back and try to make it through the Zone to the Free City of Denver, which was your original plan, I take it.”
“Yes,” Qaara says.
“That’s not going to happen.” Jedd sneaks a peak outside the flap of the tent. “Look at all those soldiers. We’ll never get through.”
“Choice number two.” Ricky extends his index finger. “Go back to the City.”
“With Moses in tow,” Jedd says.
“Not my first choice,” Qaara says. “But the more I think about it, it might be our only choice.”
“So, we’re back to where we started. Figure out a plan to get Moses close to the City.”
“What about the smallpox virus?” Ricky says. “Are we really going to let him unleash that?”
Jedd purses his lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that the least of our worries?”
“What do you mean?” Ricky says.
“What he means,” Qaara says, “is that the killer molecule will kill everything anyway, including the virus.”
“Exactly,” Jedd says.
“Alright, then, what are you suggesting?” Ricky leans back on his hands.
Almost instantly, a plan comes together in Jedd’s mind. And that worries him. It’s simple. Maybe too simple.
“How about this?” Jedd squats down on the floor between them, lowering his voice. “We tell Moses it’s his lucky day. He has a 48-hour window to get close to the City. We can help him cross the Divide. We’ll scout ahead on the gyropods and make sure the path is clear.”
“And, just supposing we actually get close to the City, what then?” Ricky narrows his eyes.
Qaara motions that she’s going to speak. “We slip away at the earliest opportunity and access the Mesh in a big way. Upload everything on my memory cube. Try to get the word out in a Mesh-blast that Mercer can’t stop.”
“Pretty vague,” Ricky says. “And Moses isn’t stupid. The closer we get to the City, the closer he’ll watch us. Do you really think we’ll be able to get away?”
“The only alternative is to make a break for it now.” Jedd moves to the tent flap to look out. “And that doesn’t look very promising either.”
“So it’s settled.” Qaara rises. “We take Moses back to the City. Starting tonight.”
38
CURRY
“You should have killed them both a long time ago.”
Rika pulls up on a handle attached to a wooden square in the middle of the kitchen. A floorboard moves, exposing a dank cellar under the house. She walks down a narrow set of stairs and returns with a bowl of potatoes, carrots and onions. Then she goes to a pot of water sitting over an old propane stove and grasps a knob. With a flick of her wrist, flames jump up from the stove to lick the bottom of the pot.
Luca moves to the stainless steel counter. “I’ll peel the potatoes and cut the onions.”
“Zero and Giraffe,” Rika says. “They tortured you. They beat the other girls. And you did nothing.” She opens a cabinet and pulls out a weathered bag of rice. Grabbing a cup, she fills it five times, dropping the rice into another pot. “I listened. Heard it all. Mostly in the middle of the night. I could feel your pain and your fear. You never fought back. You never even tried to hurt them. Why?” Rika lifts a small knife, stares at the reflection of her eyes in the blade and hands it to Luca, smiling.
They are fully in each other’s minds. Nothing is hidden.
Luca sees the shallow ocean of rage resting beneath Rika’s words.
Picking up a potato, Luca begins to peel away the thin, brown skin. “Zero and Giraffe aren’t like the superintendent and the others at the Institution. Their minds are different, less complicated. Easier to—"
“Manipulate? All the more reason to kill them.”
Luca shakes her head. “They’ve changed. All I had to do was show them the music of the little ones. The flowers and bugs and animals. After Zero and Giraffe listened, after I opened their minds, their anger drained away. Now they only want to help us.”
“It was easy with my parents. They were so weak.” Rika finds a clear plastic container of water and sinks her hands into it. “I could show you how."<
br />
Luca see images of a man and woman falling asleep, calmness covering their faces as they slowly slip beneath the bath water’s surface. The two humps of fresh earth on the side of the house.
Currents and eddies form in the shallow sea of anger in Rika’s mind. It begins to flow and move.
“Zero and Giraffe don’t deserve to die,” Luca says.
“Of course they do. Anyone who can’t hear deserves to die.”
“Life is precious. All life.”
A long potato peel hangs suspended from Luca’s fingers.
“I see.” Rika chuckles as she pours water from the container over the rice. “All we need to do is help people hear the voices so they'll understand. Then everything will be fine.”
“Right.” Luca dices the potato into chunks. “Most people want to be good. You see it when you look inside their heads. But they get scared. Not enough food or money. They see other people get sick and die. That’s what happened to Mother. When Father died, she changed.”
“And decided to sell you to the Institution?”
“She was tired and afraid.” Luca’s eyes cloud over as the old memories rush in. “The money was gone. The food was running out. The Institution offered to pay to study kids like us, the ones who hear voices. They said they would take care of us.”
Rika puts her hand in the wet rice and washes it. “Why are you afraid to face the truth? You know the real reason why you’re mother dropped you off at the Institution."
Shaking her head, Luca wipes her eyes. “It’s not true. Don’t say it. Please.”
“After your father died, she lost her mind.” Rika pours off the excess water into another container. “She didn’t love you anymore.”
“No!” Luca’s white knuckles wrap around the handle of the knife. “She was sick. Her mind wasn’t working. There was no one to help her.”
Rika places the bowl of rice on the counter and stares out the window at Zero and Giraffe as they pitch a tent in the front yard. “You know that’s not true. I saw it. You saw it. When your father died, your mother blamed you. She thought you were a freak. She wanted to get rid of you."
Luca can’t hold back the tsunami of sobs that overtakes her body. “She was so sad. I tried to show her, but she couldn’t hear the voices."
“She didn’t want to hear.”
“No, that’s not true.” Luca wipes the tears away. “She forgot how to listen. I was too young to help. But now I know what to do. When I find her again, I’ll make her hear the voices. Just like Zero and Giraffe.”
“They’ll forget soon. They’ll get angry and scared. And then they’ll blame us.” Rika pulls a bottle of soy sauce from the cabinet. “They’ll start to think we’re crazy because we hear voices. They’ll make fun of us and think they’re better. They’ll forget how special we are. How different we are. They'll want to hurt us again. Put us in places like the Institution. They don’t know the power we have.” She pours the soy sauce into the pot of water, staining it dark brown.
As Rika reaches for a knife to peel potatoes, rage flares up in her mind. Her fingers wrap around the handle like a dagger. She lifts the blade to her eyes.
“No,” Luca says. “People are good. Like animals and plants and insects. They turn bad when they get sick inside.” Luca drops another peeled potato into the bowl. “We could teach them. We could show them. When they hear the voices, when they hear all the life around them, it heals them. Just like Zero. If we worked together, we could do it. It would change everything.”
Rika lowers the knife. “You left the village. You should have stayed with me. It’s been hard to be alone.”
“But we’re always together, even when we’re apart.”
“It’s not the same.” Rika gazes out the window. “We used to play together, but now you have other friends. You don’t have time for me.”
“They need me.”
“They shouldn’t be here.” Rika stares at the knife. “Let me show you how. It’s fun.”
“No, Rika.” Luca drops the potato on the cutting board. “You can’t.”
Rika laughs. “And what will you do if I try?”
“They’re my friends.”
“Even Zero and Giraffe?”
“Yes. And I won’t let you touch them.”
39
HOSTILE TAKEOVER
The technical designer in her white lab coat edges closer for a good look.
“Beautiful.” Mercer slips into the survival suit and admires himself in the mirror. “I like what you’ve done.”
The woman in the black leather suit nods her approval.
“Will you be trying on the helmet?” the designer asks.
“That won’t be necessary.” Mercer draws his hands across his chest. “Are you sure the entire suit is woven from the same material that we used to construct the domes on the Japanese coastline?”
“Yes, sir.” The designer looks down at the slate in her hand. “Based on the confidential reports, once the Materials Department deciphered the atomic structure of the sample, they found the substance to be easy to manipulate and mold into various forms, from building materials to woven textiles. As if it were made for this purpose. For the past six months, they’ve been asking me where the sample came from. They still can’t understand why you won't authorize patent filings of any kind.”
Mercer steps out of the suit. “I was extremely clear in my instructions. All personnel involved in the fabrication process were required to sign confidentiality agreements. There is to be no public disclosure of any kind, including the filing of patent registrations. The material constitutes a strict trade secret of Genesis Corporation, and it is imperative that Genesis personnel are the only people on Earth with knowledge and control of this material.”
“That’s what I told them.” The designer folds the survival suit into a neat square. “But some of them insist that the material could net the Corporation billions in profits. I’ve already been bombarded with a long list of potential uses, beyond those that we’ve already tested.”
“Yes, I was afraid of that.” Mercer turns back to the hologram machine in the center of the room. “That’s why I’ve had the whole team under surveillance for the last three months. The results were predictable. A few team members have already stolen the specifications for the material and made efforts to market it to third parties. Mostly Brazilian crime lords. It seems they plan to leave the Corporation and set up shop elsewhere. Since no patent has been filed, they believe they will be able to use it for their own profit.”
Color drains from the designer’s face. “I wasn’t aware of any—”
Mercer smiles. “No need to lie.” He pulls a crystal jax out of his pocket. “You should have known of the consequences."
The door slides open. Armed guards rush in and surround the assistant.
“Put her with the others.”
The guards slip a while hood over the assistant’s head and pull it tight around her neck. She collapses into their arms without a struggle.
Mercer watches the guards remove her. “I take it you approve of my methods,” he says to the woman in the black suit.
“It’s not for me to approve or disapprove. Desperate times require desperate measures.” She walks to Mercer. Her fingers slide along the rough, black surface of the suit built for Mercer. “This material you found is incredible. Is it really resistant to the killer molecule?”
“With this suit, I could swim in a lake of that super-acid and be like a fish in water.”
“I can’t help but wonder—”
Mercer nods. “Why didn’t the civilization that invented this material use it to protect themselves?”
“Exactly.”
“Based on the records that were recovered from that little green memory chip, it’s clear. They stumbled on the formula too late.” Mercer points to the black lump on the table next to him. “They barely had time to manufacture this small sample to protect the chip.”
“Makes sens
e. Nice of them to leave it for us.”
“A supreme act of charity. The chip and all the rest of it. When you stop and think about it, it’s almost beyond comprehension why they would leave this for an intelligent species in a future they couldn’t even conceive of.”
“I think it’s simple.” The woman walks to the table and strokes the black lump. “They saw the destruction brought by the Cloud and knew it would be back. The next time around, they wanted to give Earth a fighting chance.”
“A sacred trust that I don’t intend to squander.”
The woman’s voice drops to a whisper. “As long as you’re in control?”
Her words are irritating, as is the woman, but Mercer can’t deny their truth or the superb work she does. If it weren’t for her or others like her, his LUCA project would be an impossibility. Besides, if she continues to stir his anger, he can always delete her name from the list.
Exercising unusual self-control, he says nothing.
She glances at the ceiling, avoiding his steely gaze. “So little time before death falls from the sky.”
“The closer we get, the more important the secrecy of our project becomes.”
“And the more difficult it becomes to maintain it.” The woman stops and gently clears her throat. “That’s why I came. To inform you of a matter with the Chinese.”
Mercer’s eyebrow lifts. “Trouble?”
“Nothing we can’t handle. But it has been costly.”
“Tell me everything.”
“It seems that one of the regular dumping flights out of Beijing happened to pass over your installation of domes in Fukushima.” She walks to a window. “You know how touchy the Chinese can be about territorial matters. They think they own all of Japan. A report on the domes found its way back to the Ministry offices in Beijing. Inquiries were made of the puppet government in Tokyo, but nobody seemed to know anything about the massive purchase of land made by Genesis Corporation a few years ago.”
“We paid good money for that worthless dirt.”
“Yes, I know.” The woman presses her hands against the glass and stares at the City below. “Corruption has taken over the East. The distinction between private and public sectors is all but lost. It’s hard to tell whether the corporations are running the government or vice versa. No one can be trusted. It’s nearly impossible to find out who to pay off.”